Before all that, he was Philip SchleswigHolstein-Sonderburg-Glucksberg, Prince of Greece and Denmark, born in the Greek royal residence on Corfu in 1921.

His mother was a great granddaughter of Queen Victoria and as such, the Greek royals were distantly related to the British monarchy. When a revolutionary Greek court overthrew the monarchy in 1923, George V dispatched a royal navy warship to evacuate the family, who moved to more modest surroundings outside Paris. The flight from Greece and the subsequent downgrading of the family's lifestyle was too much for Philip's mother, who split from her husband in 1930. Philip, doted on by his English grandmother, was sent to London to live with her, and from there to Cheam, the celebrated Surrey preparatory school.

His secondary school career began in Germany, under the educational pioneer Kurt Hahn. When the Nazis came to power, Hahn took his radical ideas and what pupils would follow him to the safer pedagogic arena of Scotland, where he founded Gordonstoun. There . . . as he had done at Cheam . . . Philip thrived, distinguishing himself both on the playing fields and as a keen sailor, navigating the perilous waters between Scotland and Norway. Anglicised by his grandmother, gentrified by his long name and disciplined by the Spartan regime at Gordonstoun, a career in the Royal Navy was a no-brainer.

He joined up in the year that war broke out. Two months into his training at Dartmouth, the Naval College received a visit from the Royal family and Philip received his first introduction to 13-year-old Princess Elizabeth. By all accounts, she was smitten; he, five years older, was said to be charmed by the young princess, but was far more interested in girls his own age. Still, they began a correspondence that lasted through the war and Philip's postings to the Mediterranean and, later, the Pacific. He had already received a chestful of awards as a cadet; in battle, he was mentioned in despatches for bravery, but, tellingly, his duties never really placed him in the firing line . . . setting a precedent that his grandson, Prince Harry, is currently feeling the weight of.

After the war, under the guidance and a certain amount of persuasion on the part of Earl Mountbatten, Philip's uncle, the relationship became royal romance.

He had spent Christmas of 1943 at Windsor and the chattering classes had been whispering his name in connection with the young princess ever since. In 1946, back in Britain and now a First Lieutenant who had witnessed the signing of the Japanese surrender, the war hero seemed almost an appropriate suitor for the future Queen.

The public certainly took to him . . . a European prince covered in medals was just what the spin-doctors ordered for a Britain still dusting itself off from war . . .

but Philip's lack of a home or a throne presented a problem at court. Eventually, advisors suggested that his best chance of marrying Elizabeth lay in his becoming a naturalised Briton. On 18 March, 1947, he became Lieutenant Philip Mountbatten.

There were still reservations at the palace. Elizabeth's parents felt that, at 19, she was too young to marry, and senior courtiers expressed concern about Philip's tendency to speak his mind and his refusal to follow convention. Others muttered about mistresses, while some suggested that Philip wasn't a proper Englishman because he hadn't been to Eton. Ultimately, though, the public's love affair with the Windsor love affair sealed the deal: their engagement was announced on 8 July, 1947, Philip was elevated to Duke of Edinburgh, Earl of Merioneth, Baron Greenwich, and on 20November, they were married in a ceremony straight out of Hollywood.

He continued to rise up the chain of naval command, instructing at the Petty Officers School and attending the Naval Staff College, but his ambitions were relegated by his new duties as husband of the heir to the throne. "In 1947, I thought I was going to have a career in the Navy, " he later said, "but it became obvious there was no hope."

Thwarted in his chosen career, he immersed himself in charity work and sporting organisations that inspired his love of outdoor activity. "I did my own thing, " he has said of his early years in the House of Windsor. "Got involved in organisations where I thought I could be useful."

His most successful initiative was undoubtedly the Duke of Edinburgh's Award Scheme, which in its 50-year history has enabled more than two-and-ahalf million 15- to 25-year olds to engage in outdoor activities designed to promote teamwork, resourcefulness and a respect for nature. His enthusiasm for nature was further channelled through his patronage and later presidency of what is now the World Wide Fund for Nature . . . though some have questioned the wisdom of appointing as custodian of endangered species a man who once shot a Bengal tiger.

He rates action above intellect but is far from stupid . . . and he famously has little time for those he regards as mentally inferior. He thought Princess Diana was beautiful but mad, and according to Mohammad Al Fayed, he had her murdered. Back in the real world, it is certainly true that his relationship with Prince Charles has moved from distant to polite with a stop-over for fraught in between. As to his relationship with his wife, their marriage has been dogged by rumours of his affairs and sexual highjinks almost from the start . . . and if the incident with the intruder in the Queen's bedroom amounted to nothing else, it let the world in on the sleeping arrangements of the British First Couple.

But somehow they have prevailed; if not happy and glorious, then certainly with the sort of public reserve and dignity their offspring have so frequently and conspicuously lacked. Which is not to say that the Duke of Edinburgh hasn't had his share of tabloid slings and arrows: his unfortunate habit of speaking his mind has resulted in litanies of ill-judged comments while about his public engagements. Google "Prince Philip" and "gaffes" and you'll find gems such as:

"you managed not to get eaten, then?" to a student returned from Papua New Guinea; "how do you keep the natives off the booze long enough to get them through the test?" to a Scottish driving instructor; and "deaf? No wonder you're deaf, " to a group of deaf students, referring to their school's steel band. "I've become a caricature, " he said recently.

"I've just got to live with it."

He didn't let the side down in Dublin . . .

which will have disappointed many . . . but he did demonstrate that a high-profile British royal can enjoy a quiet and dignified visit to Ireland without provoking a riot or a rising. Next time he comes, he might even bring his wife. Just don't expect him to sleep with her.

CV
Occupation: Husband to the head of the British royal family
Educated: Cheam Preparatory School, Surrey; Gordonstoun School, Elgin Moray, Scotland;
In the news: On a recent flying visit to Dublin . . . a dry run for a visit by his wife . . . the famously gaffe-prone royal failed to make any headlinegrabbing pronouncements