Welcome to the Deep Dive. Today we're peeling
back the layers, the ceremonial layers, on someone
who was right there, wasn't he, through almost
every big moment in modern British history. Yet
he often feels like, well, like an unread chapter.
Exactly. We're talking about Prince Philip, Duke
of Edinburgh. And his title, the longest serving
royal consort for 69 years. It's impressive,
sure. But it doesn't capture the sheer turbulence,
does it? The displacement, the constant need
to reinvent himself. His life from 1921 to 2021
was anything but straightforwardly formal. So
that's what we're doing today. We're unpacking
that complex story. We want to get behind the
public image using the biographical details we
have. Look at that chaotic childhood. You know,
the famous story of being carried into exile
in a fruit box. Incredible. And his naval career,
which was quite distinguished. Very much so.
Then there were those tensions, especially early
on, about his place, even the family name. And
we have to talk about that infamous bluntness,
the gaffes, as the press called them. He even
had a name for it himself. Daunt of pedology,
yes. The science of putting your foot in your
mouth. He knew his reputation. It's really a
study in how character gets forged by, well,
by chaos. Born a prince, then effectively stripped
of everything. And then dedicating his entire
adult life to supporting the crown, an institution
that, let's be honest, wasn't exactly welcoming
at first. So we'll explore how he found his own
sense of worth, not really through the titles,
but through action, through duty. Yeah, through
doing things. Okay, let's dive in. We have to
start at the beginning. And his birth wasn't
exactly a typical royal arrival. No, not at all.
Picture this. Mon Repos, a villa in Corfu, June
10th, 1921. And Prince Philip of Greece and Denmark
is born on the dining room table. on the dining
room table. That detail alone just, it sets a
certain tone, doesn't it? Unexpected from the
start. It really does. And we need to understand,
he wasn't just any prince. He was House of Glicksburg,
a prince of Greece and Denmark. He was actually
in line for two different thrones. His father,
Prince Andrew, son of the Greek King George III.
So the lineage was huge, sprawling across Europe,
but unstable. Extremely unstable. And that became
clear almost immediately. He's not even 18 months
old and disaster strikes Greece. The Greco -Turkish
War. A massive defeat for Greece. Exactly. And
someone had to take the blame. The political
situation in Athens turned really violent. Philip's
uncle, King Constantine the Third, was forced
out in September 1922. And Philip's own father,
Prince Andrew, was caught right in the middle
of it. He was arrested by the new military government.
Yeah, he was basically facing execution. Princess
Alice, Philip's mother, was under surveillance.
It was touch and go. It took diplomatic intervention,
right. King George V in Britain getting involved.
That's what saved Prince Andrew's life. But the
result was still... A drastic banishment for
life. The whole family out of Greece, which leads
us to that famous escape. The fruit box story.
December 1922, he's 18 months old. They're evacuated
on a British warship, HMS Calypso. And little
Philip, well, he's put in an orange box as a
makeshift cot. It's such a powerful image. Royalty
reduced to essentials, carried away by a foreign
navy. No home, no status, really. And that navy,
the British Royal Navy, would become. The defining
structure of his adult life is incredibly symbolic.
They ended up in France first, near Paris, a
relative length of the house. But settling wasn't
really in the cards, was it? This is where the
psychological journey, the instability really
kicks in. Absolutely. He starts school in Paris,
the Elms. The headmaster's description is fascinating.
A know -it -all smarty person, but always remarkably
polite. That combination, confidence and politeness,
you see that thread throughout his life. You
do. But the family unit just... Falls apart.
Between 1930 and 1933, all four of his older
sisters married German princes. They moved to
Germany. And then the most devastating glow for
young Philip, his mother, Princess Alice. She
suffers a severe mental breakdown, diagnosed
with schizophrenia. She's institutionalized in
Switzerland. And the contact basically disappears
for the rest of his childhood. Almost entirely.
And his father, Prince Andrew, most often Monte
Carlo, lives a rather different life. Gambling.
Very little contact with his son. So Philip is
effectively, stateless title aside, an orphan
being passed around relatives. Pretty much. First
to his grandmother at Kensington Palace. Then
an uncle, George Mountbatten. Then, when he's
12, off to school in Germany. Schuleschloss Salem.
Which was run by his brother -in -law's family,
right? Berthold. That's right. But this is 1933.
Germany's changing rapidly. The Nazis are rising.
And the school's founder, Kurt Hahn, was Jewish
and fiercely anti -Nazi. He had to flee. So Hahn
goes to Scotland and founds Gordonstown. And
Philip follows him. He only had two terms at
Salem. It shows an early loyalty, maybe, to Hahn's
structured, challenging philosophy over, say,
family convenience in Germany. But even Gordonstown
doesn't bring total stability. Tragedy follows
him. Oh, absolutely. In 1937, his sister, Cicely,
her husband, George Donatus, who significantly...
was a member of the Nazi party. And their two
young sons. They're all killed in a plane crash
near Sosten. Philip is just 16. He has to go
to Darmstadt for the funeral. Imagine that. A
teenager grieving his sister and nephews, surrounded
by Nazi affiliations, knowing Britain might soon
be at war with them. It's an almost unbearable
wait. Then the next year, his uncle and guardian,
Lord Milford Haven, dies. So the last stable
figure is gone. Until Lord Louis Mountbatten,
his mother's brother, steps in. Dickie Mountbatten
takes over. And all this upheaval. It shapes
his identity. He didn't even speak Greek. No,
he left too young. He said later he understood
a bit, but mostly spoke English. He considered
himself Danish, really, through his father's
line. And the name, Mountbatten. Adopted. An
anglicized version of his mother's family name,
Battenberg. It wasn't Greek. It wasn't German.
It was British, connected to the people who had
actually looked after him. It was a choice, a
way of building an identity out of the fragments.
Brick by painful brick, as you said. And then
comes the Navy. If family life was chaos, the
Royal Navy offered the exact opposite. Structure,
rules. Purpose. He joins in 1939, just turned
18. And this becomes the place where he really
forges himself, doesn't it? It absolutely does.
The timing is incredible. Childhood chaos ends.
Rigid military life begins, just as the world
goes to war. And he wasn't just okay at it. He
excelled. Graduated top of his class at Dartmouth
in 1940. That's earned, not inherited. Completely.
And think about the family situation during the
war. He's fighting for Britain. While two of
his brothers -in -law are fighting for Germany.
Prince Christoph and Brifold. It highlights that
whole tangled web of European aristocracy torn
apart by the conflict. And he wasn't just training,
he was in the thick of it. Straight away. Midshipmen
in 1940, Indian Ocean, then the Mediterranean.
HMS Valiant. Which brings us to the Battle of
Cape Matapan, February 41, his first real moment
of distinction. Yeah, against the Italian fleet.
He was mentioned in dispatches, got the Greek
war cross. What exactly did he do? He was controlling
the battleship's searchlights during the night
action. Now, using searchlights makes you an
instant target, incredibly dangerous. But you
need them to aim. So precision under fire. Exactly.
His calm control helped valiant target and hit
two Italian cruisers. Vital work. And his rise
was rapid after that. Lieutenant by mid -42.
Then, October 42, he's first lieutenant on the
destroyer HMS Wallace. He's only 21. One of the
youngest in the Navy to hold that rank. That
says a lot about how highly they rated him. It
really does. And that command led to another
key moment. Sicily invasion, July 1943. What
happened there? Wallace was escorting a convoy,
came under heavy night bombing attack. They were
cornered. Philip came up with this ingenious
idea. The raft. Yeah, a simple wooden raft with
smoke floats on it. They launched it away from
the ship. The bombers saw the smoke, thought
it was the burning destroyer, and attacked the
raft instead. Allowing Wallace to slip away,
quick thinking saved the ship. That kind of decisive
action under pressure, you can see how that would
shape his later, very direct leadership style.
After the Med, he served in the Pacific. On HMS
Welp, British Pacific Fleet. And this is a detail
often missed. He was actually there in Tokyo
Bay in September 1945. When the Japanese surrender
was signed, wow. Aboard a whelp. His entire young
adulthood essentially spent on the front lines
of World War II. So he comes back a war hero,
and then his life shifts again toward that royal
courtship that had been simmering. Since 1939,
really, that first meeting at Dartmouth, he was
the dashing cadet tasked with entertaining the
princesses. Elizabeth was 13. And reportedly
smitten from the start. They were already related,
of course. Third cousins through Queen Victoria.
Second cousins once removed through King Christian
the X. Very common in European royalty. They
wrote letters all through the war. But when the
engagement was finally announced in July 1947,
it wasn't smooth sailing? Not at all. There was
a significant controversy. The public, the establishment,
they were wary. Because he was foreign -born?
Left money. All of that. Plus, crucially, the
German connections through his sisters. This
was immediate post -war Britain, remember? Feelings
were raw. Even the king's advisors were apparently
quite hesitant. And Elizabeth's mother, the queen
mother, she wasn't keen initially. Sources say
she privately called him the Hun at first, though
later she warmed up calling him an English gentleman.
But Philip had to make some big changes to prove
his commitment. He had to formally become British?
Three major steps in March 1947. Renounced his
Greek and Danish titles, became a naturalized
British subject, and adopted the surname Mountbatten.
And he converted religion, too. Yes, from Greek
Orthodox to Church of England in October 1947.
to fit in with the Anglican monarchy. It was
all part of paving the way. The wedding itself,
November 1947, was a massive public event, wasn't
it? A real boost for post -war morale. Huge.
Broadcast globally. But those lingering sensitivities.
None of his German relatives, including his three
living sisters, were invited. A painful decision,
surely. Must have been. But on the wedding morning,
he got his British titles. Duke of Edinburgh,
Earl of Marianeth, Baron Greenwich. Compensation,
perhaps. Yet, even with this new royal status,
he didn't want to give up the Navy. No way. He
went back to active duty, staffed courses, then
stationed in Malta from 1949, first lieutenant
of HMS Checkers. Even got his own command eventually.
HMS Magpie, a frigate, in 1950. Promoted to lieutenant
commander. He's clearly heading for a significant
naval career. Reached commander rank. But fate
intervened. That career he loved, the structure
he thrived in. It was cut short. Early 1952,
he and Elizabeth are touring the Commonwealth
there in Kenya. And news comes, King George VI
has died. Elizabeth is queen and Philip's active
naval career. It effectively ends right there
on February 6th, 1952. From commander at sea
to consort. A life of action replaced by a life
of duty beside the throne. And that shift from
commanding ships to walking two steps behind.
It must have been incredibly difficult for him.
He thrived in that naval meritocracy now. What
was his role? Which leads straight to that first
big point of conflict, isn't it? The argument
over the family name, the House of Windsor dispute.
Oh, absolutely. Traditionally, the children of
a queen regnant might take their father's name.
So he likely expected the House of Mountbatten
or maybe House of Edinburgh. But the old guard,
Queen Mary Churchill, they pushed back hard.
They saw it as undermining the established British
identity. They strongly advised Elizabeth to
stick with Windsor, and she did, issued a proclamation.
Overruling Philip completely, which led to that
famous raw quote. I am nothing but a bloody amoeba.
I am the only man in the country not allowed
to give his name to his own children. A bloody
amoeba. It's so visceral. It captures that feeling
of powerlessness, of lacking definition, which
must have been terrifying for someone like him.
Someone who valued structure and clear roles
above almost anything. It links the loss of his
career, his name, his conventional status as
head of the family all in one. It took years
to get even a partial compromise, right? Eight
years. 1960. An order in council comes out. It
says Mount Batten -Windsor will be the surname
for descendants not styled as Royal Highness
or Prince Princess. So his name gets carried
down the line, but not for the main branch. Exactly.
A sort of compromise. And it was announced just
before Prince Andrew was born. While that was
going on, Elizabeth did act to solidify his position
legally. Yes, she gave him official place, preeminence
and presidents right next to her, formally making
him second only to her in protocol. And crucially,
the Regency Act. In 1953, Parliament passed a
bill making him regent for Charles if she died
young. Which was important. It bypassed Princess
Margaret, ensuring he'd be the one in charge.
A real statement of his constitutional significance,
even without a formal job. What about the money
side? People are always curious about that. He
received a parliamentary annuity. Since 1990,
it was over £359 ,000 a year. But the key thing
is... It wasn't personal income. No, it was specifically
to cover the costs of his official duties. An
expense account, basically. And, importantly,
any money left over at the end of the year was
taxable. So it functioned like a salary for the
job of being consort, demanding actual work.
Precisely. And he threw himself into the role.
He chaired the Coronation Commission in 53, and
always embracing the modern. He was the first
royal to fly in a helicopter, visiting troops
before the ceremony. And at the coronation itself,
that powerful image of him kneeling. Swearing
to be her liege man of life and limb. A public
declaration of lifelong support. Their marriage,
73 years, withstood incredible scrutiny. Insiders
always described it as strong. And the queen
herself called him her constant strength and
guide at the Diamond Jubilee in 2012. You get
the sense he was the anchor behind the scenes.
But he wasn't just a passive supporter. He actively
carved out his own areas of influence. This is
where he moves beyond being the amoeba. This
is where he becomes a real modernizer. And perhaps
his biggest legacy project. The Duke of Edinburgh's
award. The Dofie. Founded in 1956. With Kurt
Hahn, his old headmaster. Yes. And it wasn't
just about charity. It was about giving young
people practical skills, resilience, a sense
of responsibility, as they put it. It feels very,
Philip, structured, challenging, focused on achievement
and self -reliance, not just passive patronage.
Exactly. It reflected his own values, his own
need to build identity through doing. It's had
a huge impact globally. He also pushed the boundaries
with travel and media, didn't he? Absolutely.
That world tour on Britannia in 56, 57. He went
to the Antarctic, first royal to cross the Antarctic
Circle. He understood the power of showing up,
exploring, engaging with science. And media.
He was quite revolutionary for a royal back then.
A real trailblazer. 1961, he does that panorama
interview on the BBC, the first major TV interview
by a royal. talking about technical training.
That must have seemed radical at the time, humanizing
the monarchy, explaining their work. It was.
And he followed it up, appearing on Meet the
Press in the U .S. in 69. He saw the potential
and the necessity of engaging with modern media.
Then there's his environmental work, co -founding
the World Wildlife Fund, WWF, in 1961. Decades
ahead of the curve on conservation. He was WWF
UK president, then international president, at
a time when environmentalism wasn't really mainstream.
But, and this is the tricky part, he was also
an avid hunter. Yes, the contradiction. Fox hunting,
shooting game birds, that infamous incident shooting
a tiger in India in 1961, the same year he helped
found WWF. How did he square that circle? It
seems he saw traditional country sports as separate
from the need for global conservation efforts,
a kind of pragmatic, perhaps aristocratic distinction
that many people found and still find difficult
to understand. It caused a lot of criticism.
But looking at the sheer volume of his work,
it's staggering. Over 780 organizations he was
involved with. Patron, president, member, and
those numbers. 22 ,219 solo engagements by the
time he retired in 2017. Plus over 5 ,000 speeches.
It's an almost unbelievable workload for someone
who technically had no constitutional role. He
defined his own role through sheer effort. But
despite all that work, for many people, the image
that sticks is the bluntness. The so -called
gaffes. And he knew it. That term he coined,
dontopedology. Yes, the science of opening your
mouth and putting your foot in it. He admitted
in 1960 he'd been practicing it for years. He
even acknowledged later it made him seem like
a cantankerous old sog. So why did he keep doing
it? That direct, almost military way of speaking
just didn't always land well publicly. I think
it's partly that lack of a filter, maybe. What
might have worked fine in a naval officer's mess
or among a certain generation or class just sounded
jarring. Even offensive on the world stage. Especially
with global media broadcasting every off -the
-cuff remark. The China comment in 1986 is probably
the most famous example. Right. Visiting China,
chatting privately with British students in Xi
'an. He jokes, if you stay here much longer,
you'll go slit -eyed. And the British press went
into meltdown. Racial intolerance. Instantly.
But the context often gets missed. Reports suggest
the Chinese officials nearby weren't actually
that bothered. They apparently made similar jokes
about Westerners getting round -eyed. But that's
the point, isn't it? His intent or the local
reaction didn't matter once it hit the global
headlines. It was interpreted literally and the
damage was done. You see it repeatedly. The jokes
about Cantonese eating habits. If it has four
legs and is not a chair. Yeah. Or asking that
indigenous Australian entrepreneur, do you still
throw spears at each other? It seems like a kind
of provocative, maybe awkward attempt at icebreaking
that just misfired badly in a modern, sensitive
context. He struggled to adapt his style, perhaps.
It seems so. But where his directness had arguably
the most significant impact was within the family
during the Charles and Diana crisis. Here, his
role wasn't just public consort. It was patriarch
trying to manage an unfolding disaster. And he
was involved right from the beginning. Early
1981, Charles is dithering about Diana, pressure's
building. Philip writes to him. Not gently, apparently.
No, reportedly quite direct, basically. Decide.
Propose or break it off. Don't leave her hanging.
Charles felt pressured and he proposed. And later,
when the marriage was collapsing. He and the
Queen tried to mediate. Hosted that difficult
meeting in 1992. It didn't work. But then he
wrote directly to Diana. Those letters, they're
fascinating. What was his approach? He expressed
disappointment about the affairs on both sides.
He wasn't just blaming Diana, he told her Charles
had faults too. He asked her to try and see it
from the other perspective. Classic Philip. Trying
to impose rational order on emotional chaos.
How did Diana take it? Sources say she found
the letters very tough, very direct, uncompromising.
But she also apparently appreciated his intent
was good, that he was trying in his way. it was
maybe the wrong approach for what she needed
emotionally but it was his approach logical analytical
like a commander trying to write a ship exactly
and that pragmatic Protective instinct came to
the fore again after Diana's death in 1997. The
immediate aftermath. The Queen and Philip kept
William and Harriet Balmoral, shielded them from
the media frenzy for five days. A controversial
decision at the time, the public wanted to see
the royals grieving, but crucial for the boys'
well -being. And then the funeral, the walk behind
the coffin, the princes were hesitant. Understandably.
teenagers grieving, about to walk in front of
the entire world. Philip's intervention was key.
He spoke to William directly. Yeah. If you don't
walk, I think you'll regret it later. If I walk,
will you walk with me? Wow. Not an order, but
an offer of solidarity. From his own experience
of loss, perhaps. It made it possible for them.
He walked with them, Charles and Earl Spencer,
a grandfather supporting his grandsons in the
toughest moment imaginable. Of course, after
Diana's death, he got dragged into those awful
conspiracy theories. Muhammad Al -Faiz claims
that Philip had ordered her death. Utterly baseless.
But Philip had to endure years of that speculation.
Until the official inquest in 2008. Which completely
exonerated him. Found absolutely no evidence
of any conspiracy. But it shows the kind of relentless,
often unfair scrutiny he faced. And he just kept
going, didn't he? He became a symbol of sheer
endurance, outliving expectations, setting records.
He joked about not wanting to reach 100. But
in April 2009, he officially became the longest
serving British consort, overtaking Queen Charlotte.
Then, February 2013, the oldest ever male British
royal. And that platinum wedding anniversary
in 2017, 70 years. married to the queen unprecedented
for a british monarch he did start to slow down
eventually said in 2011 age 90 he'd done his
bit but official retirement from solo duties
didn't come until august 2017 he was 96 after
those 22 000 plus engagements even in retirement
he made headlines that car crash in january 2019
near sandringham thankfully he wasn't injured
but it sparked a big debate about elderly drivers
he did give up his license voluntarily a few
weeks later good responsibility yes Though apparently
he could still drive on private estates, that
little bit of independence maintained. His health
was generally robust, but he had procedures later
on, heart issues. Coronary angioplasty in 2011,
another heart procedure in March 2021, just weeks
before he died. He passed away peacefully at
Windsor Castle, April 9th, 2021, just shy of
his 100th birthday. Age 99. The official cause
was simply old age. His daughter -in -law, Sophie,
described it as so gentle. Like someone just
took his hand. The funeral was quite stark, wasn't
it, due to COVID rules? Only 30 mourners. And
the queen reportedly refused an offer from the
government to relax the rules for her. Insisted
on sticking to them, like everyone else. A very
Philip -like sense of duty, perhaps. He was initially
placed in the royal vault. But after the queen
died in September 2022, they were buried together
in the King George VI Memorial Chapel at Windsor.
Side by side. Beyond the duty, his personal interests
really show his character. Giving up polo. And
then throwing himself into carriage driving.
Helped develop the rules. Competed internationally.
He won a world championship with the British
team in 1980. Typical Philip, if you do something,
master it. Absolutely. And aviation. He was a
passionate pilot. Logged almost 6 ,000 flying
hours in 59 different aircraft types. Retired
his license only in 1997. And that amazing detail.
1959, he flew solo in a Druin Turbulent, the
only Royal ever to fly a single -seater plane.
That says so much about his need for hands -on
action, for testing himself. He was also an artist,
a writer. Painted oils, collected contemporary
cartoons, wrote 13 books on conservation, carriage
driving, his speeches. There was a thoughtful,
creative side, too. His painting of the Queen
at breakfast is quite tender. And then those
extraordinary footnotes to his life. The DNA
link. To the Romanovs. In 1993, his mitochondrial
DNA was the key to identifying the remains of
Tsar Nicholas II's family members. His lineage
literally helped solve a historical mystery.
And the other end of the spectrum, the Tana movement.
In Vanuatu. Islanders who worship him as a godlike
figure believe he's the son of a mountain spirit
who married a powerful lady overseas. They have
portraits, feasts on his birthday, it's incredible.
Shows the almost mythical status his image achieved
in some corners of the world. Which makes the
final point even more striking. The secrecy around
his will. Sealed by the high court for at least
90 years. Why? Officially, to protect the dignity
and standing of the sovereign. It means his personal
wishes, his bequests. Completely hidden for almost
a century. A final act of control, ensuring privacy
after a lifetime in the public eye. Hashtag tag
outro. So... What a life. From that Greek prince
born on a dining table, exiled in a fruit box.
To a decorated war hero, then a longest serving
consort, clocking up that mind -boggling number
of engagements. What was it? Over 22 ,000. He
was clearly shaped by that early instability,
always seeking structure, purpose, merit. Absolutely.
He wrestled with the vagueness of his consort
role. The bloody amoeba comment really shows
that frustration. But he didn't just complain.
He acted. He carved out his own significance.
The Dofie Award, the WWF pushing the family towards
modernity with media and travel. He became this
force for often blunt, pragmatic change within
a very traditional system. A legacy of incredible
endurance, service, and maybe necessary friction.
And yet, after that lifetime, lived under the
microscope performing that duty, his final personal
testament, his will, is locked away. Sealed for
90 years. Yeah. Which leaves us with a really
provocative thought for you, the listener. If
his public life demanded such transparency, such
relentless service. What does this final act
of mandated secrecy tell us? About that balance
the monarchy tries to strike between its public
role, its dignity and standing, and the modern
world's desire to know everything. How much of
a public life is owed to the public, and how
much remains private, even in death? Something
to definitely think about. A fascinating, complex
figure. Indeed. That's all we have time for on
this Deep Dive. Thanks for joining us. Join us
next time on the Deep Dive.