9.25 a.m.
Orangemen fill Carleton Street. Already it is clear there are far more than last year. It is cloudy and very breezy. A young guy in a suit passes through the crowd carrying a sleeping bag and a duvet. His friend carries a hold-all. A frail elderly man sits at his front doorway, greeting passers-by. He is wearing an orange lily.
10.10 a.m.
Carleton Street is packed tight with Orangemen. The District Master, Harold Gracey, addresses them from a first-floor window of the Orange Hall. He expresses deep appreciation for the brethern from all over the province who have turned up to support the Portadown members. "We will be going to Drumcree and we will be staying as long as it takes", he tells them. They respond with wild applause. He advises them not to listen to rumours circulating in the town. It is the Sabbath, he reminds them, emphasising that no one wanted trouble.
"Listen to me, I'll tell you the truth at all times", he advises the crowd.
10.15 a.m.
The Portadown standard-bearers take their place at the head of the parade. They are three older ex-servicemen. Willie Percy explains that he is the "number three sword-bearer". He carries a ceremonial sword, raised vertically. "I'm the number one standard bearer", explains Alexader Hyde, who carries the Portadown standard. "And he is the number two sword-bearer", he says, indicating Fred Oliver, who also carries a vertically-raised ceremonial sword vertical before him.
10.25 a.m.
The parade sets off from Carleton Street, 10 minutes behind schedule. It curves towards the town centre behind a media posse. Cheering, applauding, tightly-packed crowds line the street.
The parade turns and passes by the other side of St Mark's. A hymn chimes out. "It's on the second side of the Van Morrison album Hymns To The Silence", says a reporter, trying to recall the title of the track. He can't.
10.40 a.m.
The parade turns into Corcrain Road. The breeze has now become a wind and tears at the Ulster flags above. They hold firm.
The first soldiers of the day are at the junction with Edgarstown Road. No police have yet been seen. The crowd has thinned. Three elderly women standing on the grass margin giggle as one shooes away a photographer with her straw hat. Families line the margin at Hampton Court.
Bonfire material awaits the eve of the Twelfth, stacked on the grass of a common. Wooden pallets, tyres, old chairs, couches. "No Talking to McKenna's Bigots. No Surrender" reads a large painted sign. "Smash Pan-Nationalism. Forward Brethern" reads a mural on a wall. Drumcree Church is painted in its centre.
10.50 a.m.
Army Saracens and RUC LandRovers guard the junction with Charles Street. There are cheers and applause from a small crowd as the parade passes. Similarly, Saracens, Land-Rovers and rolls of barbed wire block the entrance to the nationalist Obins Street opposite. Residents from there look on impassively.
The parade passes the fenced-in, boarded-up, closed Corcrain Orange Hall and dips through a hollow to rise again. Looking back, it is Orangemen all the way and more behind. The parade rises past a blocked-off nationalist Ballyoran towards the Dungannon road and St John's Catholic Church.
10.58 a.m.
St John's is fenced in. RUC men stand inside facing towards the crowds of youths who fill its grounds. They move back from the fence. Some go into the church. As the parade gets closer, the band stops playing. All that can be heard is wind, a muffled drumbeat, shuffling feet.
There's a smattering of applause from a small group gathered along the roadway opposite the church. The parade continues along the Dungannon road by the Catholic graveyard.
RUC men move among the headstones. No music is played until the band gets beyond the Maxol garage. The marchers are headed in the direction of Drumcree Church, which can now be seen for the first time.
11.10 a.m.
The parade turns into Drum goose Road, applauded by a crowd gathered across the Dungannon road. The police and army presence is very conspicuous. The parade stretches way back to the turn into the Dungannon road. "It is a halfmile, surely", suggests an eldery white-haired woman.
And still the Orangemen come. Passing Drumcree Rectory, beech and horse chestnut trees create such noise in the breeze that they muffle the music from the parade behind.
11.20 a.m.
The parade turns off towards the church. The huge barricade on the way to the Garvaghy Road can now be seen for the first time. It must be 20 feet high. Three rows of coiled barbed wire cross the fields close to the barricade. At intervals, what look like car-bomb disposal robots are lined along the middle row of barbed wire. They are spotlights.
A deep trench has been dug in front of the fences. Soldiers and lines of army jeeps are in other fields. There is a crowd some distance away on the Garvaghy Road side.
11.25 a.m.
The gates at the Church of the Ascension in Drumcree are opened to allow the Orangemen to enter. Orangemen also fill the parochial hall nearby, where the service is to be relayed by video. Loudspeakers will carry the proceedings to the crowds outside. Someone now says there are between 5,000 and 6,000 people in the parade.
11.40 a.m.
The service begins, 10 minutes behind schedule. The Rev John Pickering, the Rector of Drumcree, reminds the congregation that they are remembering the 300 men of the 9th Royal Irish Fusiliers who died at the Somme, "most of them killed by one machinegun". A mist descends. Orangemen sit along walls, lined like birds perched on a wire before a storm. Other Orangemen begin to arrive across the fields.
"It's ridiculous", David Jones, the Portadown District press officer, tells a BBC reporter. "Do you think Tony Blair would have put a barrier across that gay parade in London yesterday? Even if heterosexuals on a street said they didn't want it?"
Noon
Robert Saulters, Grand Master of the Orange Order, arrives to prolonged applause and makes his way to the church gate. He is quickly ushered inside for the remainder of the service. The sky begins to clear. A British army helicopter hovers noisily overhead while a small plane circles the area.
12.05 p.m.
The Rev Pickering begins his sermon. July 1995 was a bad experience, he says. So also was July 1996 and July 1997. "But July 1998 is undeniably worse. I never thought I would see what I see in Drumcree this morning. I see barbed wire. It has become the symbol of our land. It makes me very sad."
12.22 p.m.
The service ends with God Save The Queen. An ambulance arrives through the crowd. Its siren drowns out the anthem. Harold Gracey addresses the congregation inside. He thanks the Rev Pickering and the rector's wife, Olive. "To us, they are the rock standing on the hill", he says. He is delighted at the attendance of the Grand Master.
12.31 p.m.
Members of Portadown District begin to gather along the sloping hill in front of the church. It is cloudy again. Orangemen line both sides of the narrow road and more are lined up behind a hedge.
There is a heavy aroma of freshly-cut grass. A man with three small children is persuaded to move from the front of the parade. The three standard-bearers take their places in front. Everyone is calm, although there is tension in the air.
Orange dignitaries line up behind the standard-bearers, including the Grand Master, Robert Saulters, the County Master, Denis Watson, and Harold Gracey.
12.47 p.m.
The parade moves off to a shout of "Quick march". It is cheered down the hill towards the dark green barricade below, rolls of barbed wire placed in front of it. It takes about two minutes for the standard-bearers to reach the barricade.
They move right up against it. the Portadown District secretary, Nigel Dawson, calls out: "Will the senior officer in control present himself at the barrier?" There is no response. "There is obviously no senior officer around", says Harold Gracey. "It is a total disgrace, stopping Orangemen from walking the Queen's highway."
12.52 p.m.
The standard-bearers do an about-turn and go back up the hill. The remainder of the Portadown District approach the wire and then follow their leaders back up again. Other Orangemen approach to investigate the barricade and its barbed wire. More spread out across the field beside the barricade. Some lie on the grass. A Union Jack is planted on a freshly-dug mound beside the trench.