Abigail Sannoh, a nurse corporal in the Royal Air Force, had spent years trying to get a few tickets to Wimbledon for herself and her father, Mohamed Sannoh, an avid tennis fan like his daughter. But the attempt proved fruitless. So she found another entrance to the ground that would allow Sannoh to attend all 14 days of Wimbledon, with an excellent view of Center Court.
She applied and was hired as a service steward, part of a program in which 477 members of Britain’s three military branches work on the world’s most famous tennis tournament as stewards, what Americans call “ushers.”
“My dad got a ticket and could watch me work here,” Sannoh said last week. “It was so exciting for both of us.”
Since 1946, when World War II demobilized soldiers were first commissioned, warrant officers (mainly corporals and sergeants) have been stationed at the many entrances to each section of Center Court and Court 1, with strict orders to be helpful, talkative . and look good in their crispy uniforms. It’s one of the features that makes Wimbledon such a distinct event, and there are also 250 members of the fire service serving as stewards on a handful of the outside grounds.
Their only weapons are a disarming charm and a polite eagerness to help both the fans and their fellow Stewards. There are no snarling dogs, body armor, boots, camouflage gear, or any of the intimidating regalia often seen at major sporting events elsewhere. While these sailors, soldiers, and cadets are on duty, they are not technically on active military duty.
“We’re here to make people happy,” said James Brooks shortly after snapping a photo for two fans in front of Center Court as he walked in to take his position.
Brooks, who has served in Afghanistan three times and served around the world, is one of the most prominent stewards, with a role arguably closest to police work. During changeovers, he and the other service stewards keep their eyes on the field, looking back at the stands, to deter would-be intruders from the field.
Sitting next to him on Friday was Miriam Charlton, who spent 37 years in the Navy. She started at a difficult time for military women, who received little or no attention when they had children, sometimes being transferred from one base to another until they quit. She was sent to the Falklands for six months from 1994 to 1995 after giving birth to two children, and was only allowed one three-minute phone call a week.
She remained in the military and attitudes changed to such an extent that she was asked to form a small parental support unit to help parents in the Navy. Charlton said the Navy now detains more than 90 percent of women after they have children, up from 52 percent when she started the program seven years ago. She received an MBE (Member of the Order of the British Empire) award from Princess Anne for her work.
To be honored in that way is fine, but to see Wimbledon up close on Center Court for 14 days in a row?
“It doesn’t get any better,” she said. “It ranks among the pinnacle moments of my career.”
About 1,000 members of the military apply for the coveted positions each year, and 40 percent of the stewards are new each year.
“I don’t want it to be a club where some people feel like they’ll never get a chance to do it,” Lieutenant Cdr said. Chris Boucher, the officer in charge of all stewards. “No one has the special right to be here.”
There is also no rank at Wimbledon, said Boucher, whose job in the Navy is to mobilize personnel for everything from the Queen’s funeral to tactical operations around the world. The stewards address each other by first name in an informal, collegial and respectful atmosphere, except for a few rare instances over the years.
“There’s no rank unless it’s necessary,” he said.
The other highly visible military stewards, especially on television, are the three stationed in the Royal Box, which is run entirely by the service stewards. They all dress impeccably, as if presenting for inspection. There isn’t, but it’s almost unheard of for anyone to be seen with spaghetti sauce or coffee stains on their bright white, blue, or khaki shirts.
“Millions of eyes are on you,” said Boucher. “Don’t be that person.”
Katie Patterson, a Corporal in the Royal Air Force Police, was stationed at 6 Gangway at Court No. 1, where she helped spectators find seats and politely asked loud fans in the hallway for “a little quiet.” Spectators are happy to ask about her RAF duties and ask for photos.
One little girl was particularly beaten, so Patterson gave her rank (the insignia on her shoulder that indicates her rank) to the girl, who was overjoyed. Patterson also had a chance to fall in love when Nick Grimshaw, a popular television and radio personality, was waiting in line at Gangway 6. They chatted for minutes and, like many fans, he wanted to know more about her life on air. power.
Navy’s George Fynn Carr teamed up with Patterson on Gangway 6 in one of the many inter-service partnerships forged during the tournament. Pairs alternate in their positions, one at the bottom of the stairs to help people in line, and another at the top, who can show fans their seats and then watch the action. They should also be attuned to stray or unruly fans, or any situation that requires attention.
A huge tennis fan, Carr emigrated from Ghana 14 years ago and joined the navy after obtaining British citizenship. Much of his time at Wimbledon is spent posing for photos in his white and navy blue uniform and hat, and answering questions on all of his broadcasts – Crete, Guam, Kenya, the mainland United States.
“On a ship, you’re on a metal container on the ocean and you have to be a team,” Carr said. “It’s the same here at Wimbledon.”
As Carr spoke, an Army NCO from another gangway told him that “two guys” were hopping across rows of seats, clearly without tickets. Carr immediately left to investigate.
To join this elite force, stewards must use their furlough, which eats up two weeks of vacation time. But one of the rewards comes on the first Saturday of the tournament each year, when an announcement is made recognizing their contributions. Fans rise to a sustained ovation in an emotional show of appreciation.
“It’s a privilege to be here, even though we’re on the job,” said Suen Simpson, an Army staff sergeant, who declined to reveal the locations of her deployment. However, these two weeks she is stationed at Gangway 22 on the No. 1 track at one of the biggest sporting events in the world.
“It’s a blessing that I was selected,” she said.