Halt - Who Goes There? The Nicked Keys

#1
Intruder breaks in and steals Tower of London keys

An inquiry is under way after a person broke into the Tower of London and stole a set of keys.
The incident took place in the early hours of 6 November and the intruder got past the first gate, a spokeswoman for the Historic Royal Palaces said.

Keys for a restaurant, conference rooms and an internal lock to the drawbridges were on the stolen set. The locks have now been changed.

Security was not up to "the expected standards", the spokeswoman said.
The Tower, which houses the Crown Jewels, is guarded by the Yeoman Warders or Beefeaters.
The Crown Jewels were not at risk and "at no point was the security of the Tower at risk", the spokeswoman added.

The spokeswoman for the Historic Royal Palaces said the intruder was found on site by security guards, but refused to reveal further details. The Metropolitan Police said no arrests had been made as yet.

'Security robust'

The Historic Royal Palaces spokeswoman added: "We can however confirm that during this incident, keys for a restaurant and conference rooms were taken together with a key to an internal lock to the Tower drawbridges that is not accessible from the outside.

"It would not have been possible to gain access to the Tower with any of these keys. All affected locks were immediately changed."

The spokeswoman said an internal investigation found that "our well-established security systems and procedures are robust".

"However on this occasion, these procedures were not carried out to the expected standard," she said.
"A staff disciplinary procedure is under way to address this issue."

The Metropolitan Police said: "We have received an allegation of theft and this is being investigated by Tower Hamlets CID."
I do hope they were G4S guard.
 
#2
Halt ! Who goes there ?
The keys
Who's keys ?
The Queens' keys.

My Dad was escort to the keys when he was in the Welsh Guards back in the 1960's. That's how I know the refrain.
 
#3
Halt ! Who goes there ?
The keys
Who's keys ?
The Queens' keys.

My Dad was escort to the keys when he was in the Welsh Guards back in the 1960's. That's how I know the refrain.
Well he was obviously at the port when he told you that...

IFAIK, the procedure is:

Halt ! Who goes there ?
The keys!
Who's keys ?
Queen Elizabeth's keys!
 
#4
I was at Buck house and Clarence house When we did it in the 70's but the story was, "halt, who goes there! The keys! Whose ****ing keys! The Queens ****ing keys!"

I do know that tourists, the postman and uncle Tom cobbley and all got the present arms just to pass the time and get the stag over with! :)
 
#6
Sorry to be a pedant but a few years back it was......

(High port)
Halt!
(Escort to the keys halts on the strip of light along the cobbles)
Who COMES there?
The keys!
Whos keys?
Queen Elizabeths keys!
(Return to slope arms)
Pass Queen Elizabeths keys, all is well!
(Present arms)


Although I last did the challenge in '04 so it may have changed!



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Only in this case it wouldn't be, would it?

It'd be "Pass Brenda's Keys, Some pikey's had away with the keys for the restaurant/conference centre."
 
#8
Sorry to be a pedant but a few years back it was......<br />
<br />
(High port)<br />
Halt!<br />
(Escort to the keys halts on the strip of light along the cobbles)<br />
Who COMES there?<br />
The keys!<br />
Whos keys?<br />
Queen Elizabeths keys!<br />
(Return to slope arms)<br />
Pass Queen Elizabeths keys, all is well!<br />
(Present arms)<br />
<br />
<br />
Although I last did the challenge in '04 so it may have changed! <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Posted from the ARRSE Mobile app (iOS or Android)

Still the same
 
#10
Book Tower Green for a ceremony, dust off the block, sharpen axe, inform Headsman that leave is cancelled.
 
#11
Sorry but this just has to be posted here

It was an old custom, centuries old, and in the summer a few tourists would hang around towatch it, but the Ceremony of the Keys went on every night in every season. Mere ice, wind and snow had never stopped it. Bledlows in times gone past had clambered over tentacled monstrosities to do the Ceremony; they'd waded through floodwater, flailed with their bowlerhats at errant pigeons, harpies and dragons, and ignored mere faculty members who'd thrown open their bedroom windows and screamed imprecations on the lines of 'Stop that damn
racket, will you? What's the
point!'
They'd never stopped, or even thought of stopping.
You
couldn't stop Tradition. You could only add to it.

The three men reached the shadows by the main gate, almost blotted out in the whirlingsnow. The bledlow on duty was waiting for them.

'Halt! Who Goes There?' he shouted.

McAbre saluted. The Archchancellor's Keys!'

'Pass, The Archchancellor's Keys!'

The Head Bledlow took a step forward, extended both arms in front of him with his palms bent back towards him, and patted his chest at the place where some bledlow long buried had once had two breast pockets. Pat, pat. Then he extended his arms by his sides and stiffly
patted the sides of his jacket.

Pat, pat.

'Damn! Could Have Sworn I Had Them A Moment Ago!' he bellowed, enunciating each word with a sort of bulldog carefulness.

The gatekeeper saluted. McAbre saluted.

'Have You Looked In All Your Pockets?'

McAbre saluted. The gatekeeper saluted. A small pyramid of snow was building up on his bowler hat.

'I Think I Must Have Left Them On The Dresser. It's Always The Same, Isn't It?'

'You Should Remember Where You Put Them Down.!'

'Hang On, Perhaps They're In My Other Jacket!'

The young bledlow who was this week's Keeper of the Other Jacket stepped forward.
Eachman saluted the other two. The youngest cleared his throat and managed to say:

'No, I Looked In . . . There This . . . Morning!'

McAbre gave him a slight nod to acknowledge a difficult job done well, and patted his pockets again.

'Hold On, Stone The Crows, They Were In This Pocket After All! What A Muggins I Am!'

'Don't Worry, I Do The Same Myself!'

'Is My Face Red! Forget My Own Head Next!'

Somewhere in the darkness a window creaked up.

'Er, excuse me, gentlemen—'

'Here's The Keys, Then!' said McAbre, raising his voice.

'Much Obliged!'

'I wonder if you could—' the querulous voice went on, apologizing for even thinking ofcomplaining.

'All Safe And Secure!' shouted the gatekeeper, handing the keys back.

'—perhaps keep it down a
little—'

'Gods Bless All Present!' screamed McAbre, veins standing out on his thick crimson neck.

'Careful Where You Put Them This Time. Ha! Ha! Ha!'

'Ho! Ho! Ho!' yelled McAbre, beside himself with fury.

He saluted stiffly, went About Turn with an unnecessarily large amount of foot stamping and, the ancient exchange completed, marched back to the bledlows' lodge muttering under his breath.

The window of the University's little sanatorium shut again.

 

sirbhp

LE
Book Reviewer
#12
oo allo, oos that?
ooh allo dearie , its queenies keys.
Ah well lets ave a vada then
OOh you are a troll its me dearie here every night except Tuesdays when i have me feet done .
Ok mince on then .
Gawd save the queen , and her majesty whilst hes at it .

ooer you are a one , pink gin and a stiff one laters ?
oow yew should be so lucky dearie .
limp right, limp right thats it swing those hand bags ...
 

sirbhp

LE
Book Reviewer
#13
Seriously , i seen the keys loads of times , and they always say no photos or film recording . Its as if the world will end . This ceremony has NEVER been filmed if you see it on the tele its only the rehearsals.
Oh really ?? One beefeater nearly had a corona on the spot when a tourist snapped away , yet since the invention of movies people HAVE been filming the bloody ceremony .

Its like you cant photograph your grand kids in the school panto , but bloody pervs can order up a photo of them from the local newspaper who have been sent pics by the school or had the scoop photographer in ! ( in sarfend that is ) I am so angry i am orf for a shit !!!
 
#14
I got tickets and took my old man one November evening back in the 80's. He was CG from 1940-45, did Buck House whilst he was in (Coats Mission) but had never done the Tower.

Being there for the Ceremony of the Keys was very atmospheric - it was a cold, damp night (**** off Tropper), and no-one else was around in the Tower. You got a real feel for what the place was about.
 
Z

Zarathustra

Guest
#15
So we are to believe that someone broke in and stole the keys to a restaurant and a conference room?

If I were a betting man I'd put money on someone taking them home by mistake and either being too scared to bring them back and admit their mistake or crying wolf to cover it up. A bit like people who have an ND on stag and then shout contact blat a few more rounds and swear blind they saw something move.

I don't know the ins and outs of security at the Tower but it's not like someone rocked up with a ladder and hopped over the wall.
 

TheIronDuke

On ROPS
On ROPs
Book Reviewer
#16
A bit like people who have an ND on stag and then shout contact blat a few more rounds and swear blind they saw something move.
You really must try to stop talking gibberish sweet pea. If one has a stag in ones sights, one goes for a lung shot if it is clear.

The people guarding the Tower when the keys were nicked were the Brit arm of a Cloggie security firm.

They do not have stags in Holland. On account of there are few bonnie banks or brea's for stags to scramble about on.
 
#17
You really must try to stop talking gibberish sweet pea. If one has a stag in ones sights, one goes for a lung shot if it is clear.

The people guarding the Tower when the keys were nicked were the Brit arm of a Cloggie security firm.

They do not have stags in Holland. On account of there are few bonnie banks or brea's for stags to scramble about on.
I was on a mate's stag in Holland, I can't remember much after we stopped for tea and cakes after we arirved.
 
#19
You really must try to stop talking gibberish sweet pea. If one has a stag in ones sights, one goes for a lung shot if it is clear.

The people guarding the Tower when the keys were nicked were the Brit arm of a Cloggie security firm.

They do not have stags in Holland. On account of there are few bonnie banks or brea's for stags to scramble about on.
Don't you believe it. The number of stags in Amsterdam on a Saturday night doesn't bear thinking about.
 

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