Another major blow to Philip that year came when it was decided that their children and their children’s children should bear the name Windsor, after the Queen’s family, not his name, Mountbatten. Philip was not just furious, he was deeply wounded. It was emasculating. It was cruel. ‘I am the only man in the country not allowed to give his name to his children,’ he protested.

‘It hurt him, it really hurt him,’ Countess Mountbatten recalled. ‘He had given up everything – and now this, the final insult. It was a terrible blow. It upset him very deeply and left him feeling unsettled and unhappy for a long while. Of course, I don’t blame the Queen.’ It was of course Churchill, encouraged by Tommy Lascelles, who had decided on this, and together they forced the Queen’s hand. She was too young and inexperienced to stand up for what she wanted for her husband, which was the name Mountbatten-Windsor.

Frustration, irritation and disappointment were daily occurrences for Philip, but outside the palace, he soon found roles to which he could apply his energies. The Queen made him Ranger of Windsor Great Park, in effect estate manager. He subsequently took an overseeing role at all the royal estates and greatly improved their efficiency. He was also made chairman of the Coronation Commission, which included the Duke of Norfolk, Winston Churchill, Clement Attlee and the Archbishop of Canterbury. The commission would consider every aspect of the Coronation, including the question of whether to permit the ceremony to be televised. Meanwhile, the Royal Mint had to issue new coins bearing the Queen’s head, and Philip was made president of the committee to advise on the design of new coins and medals.

With the help of Mike Parker, who had become his private secretary, Prince Philip set about the reorganisation of Buckingham Palace, much to the consternation of the old guard. It was a struggle, but slowly he set about modernising things. He initiated a footman training programme. ‘The old boys here hadn’t had anything quite like it before,’ he said. ‘They expected the footmen just to keep on coming.’

He set up an organisation and methods review and he worked his way around every one of the palace’s 600 rooms – discovering a deep underground wine cellar in the process that went on for ‘miles and miles’, with vintages and menus that dated back to Victorian times. He set in hand the redecoration of the private apartments on the second floor, installing a kitchen so that food did not have to be delivered along miles of draughty corridors. It was a massive and important job, albeit largely an unseen one, but it was clear that if he wanted to have an influence on how they lived their lives it would have to be done in ways such as this, as his public role was always going to be secondary to the Queen’s.