WITH the sun spilling out of a clear blue sky and the birds singing in the trees, Drumcree Church seemed an oasis of calm yesterday morning. Women in bright summer dresses stretched out on the grass while their husbands chatted on the roadside.
Only a closer look at the soft, rolling countryside betrayed the underlying tension. British soldiers with blackened faces and machine guns crouched beneath the trees. Long lines of barbed wire ran across the fields. A helicopter buzzed constantly overhead.
Still, nobody who had gathered to wait for the Portadown Orangemen was complaining. "We got the right" said a woman. "It was worth all the fuss. And it's a fine day for marching - plenty of sunshine not too warm, and a light breeze. What more could you ark for?"
Around 1,500 Orangemen made their way from Carleton Orange Hall in the town centre, via a non-controversial route, to Drumcree Church accompanied by two accordion bands - Edgarstown and Star of David - playing hymns.
There was a strange mix of people waiting for them at Drumcree Church. Old men in their Sunday best with worn faces and gnarled hands who stood in silence. Noisy kids with bicycles and dogs.
Despite being on crutches Ann Adams hobbled up the hill to wait for the Orangemen. "It brightens my heart to see them," she said. "But all the commotion about the march is very sad. I remember when Catholic families sat by their doors watching the parade. Their kids would run after the bands."
Her husband James didn't think that nationalists had really changed. "They're not against the Orangemen at all. Sinn Fein and the IRA are making them behave like this."
Waving her prayer-book in the air, an old woman called Hester said the Garvaghy residents' behaviour was disgraceful. "What sort of people are they, trying to stop good Christian men walking from their church?" she asked.
Georgia McKerr had travelled from the US for the parade. "I'm here to see the Orange brethren walk along the queen's highway and enjoy the freedom my ancestors won centuries ago.
"I left Northern Ireland 34 years ago. It was a great wee place before the killing and bombing. I blame the communists. They armed the IRA. Russian guns were found here you know."
The Drumcree rector, the Rev John Pickering, had his mind on more mystical matters. "Drumcree, like the tomb of Jesus, can be transformed from a symbol of death into a symbol of life," he said.
"Remember, England was in a very bad way in the 1700s, but a revival of religion led to a change of hearts. We need a revival of religion in Northern Ireland."
Four Union flags fluttered in the wind outside Drumcree Church. Inside, two vases of orange lilies sat on the altar. The church bells rang out as the marching men arrived.
A collection box was passed around. Some men threw in a handful of change; others parted with fivers and tenners.
The Orange brethren were reserved with the press, When asked how they felt about the decision, they all said they were pleased but regretted nationalist opposition to their parade.
No one would go any further. "Obviously, they're under strict instructions not to appear triumphalist," said a disappointed journalist.
After the hour-long service, the Orangemen regrouped outside the church to march back to Carleton Orange Hall, this time via the controversial Garvaghy Road route.
They set off sternly, with unsheathed swords pointing heavenwards, and carefully furled umbrellas by their side, "Left! Right! Left!" shouted the lodge lender, anxious they march in unison as they entered enemy territory.
"FREE THE POWS" and "INLA" graffiti warned that the Garvaghy Road was ahead. "Orange bastards! Orange scum!" shouted the residents, hemmed in their streets by row upon row of RUC Land-Rovers.
They were determined to be heard. They stood on walls, jeered and waved swastikas. They banged bin-lids and saucepans and hurled a torrent of missiles through the air.
The Garvaghy Road was a carpet of bricks and broken bottles, but the Orangemen walked on, their faces immobile, not even turning to glance at the residents, uncomfortable but defiant.
As they neared Portadown town centre, though, the religious geography of their route changed. Thousands of people with happy faces awaited them. The Orangemen looked relieved. They were greeted by continuous cheering and applause.
As they passed through the Orange arch at the bottom of the town, the marchers at last began to smile. "United We Stand. Divided We Fall," it said. "Derry. Aughrim. Enniskillen. Boyne,"