China's Victory Day: Behind The Scenes

Victory Day for me started with a 1.30am alarm, and then a cycle through the back streets in the darkness, navigating around police road closures to the office.

Flashing blue lights lit up otherwise deserted streets.

In the shadows, some of the 850,000 'capital security volunteers' lined up for the start of their shift.

Security has been heightened at shopping centres and transport hubs across the city.

We had been told to report to a car park in West Beijing - to be escorted on buses to Tiananmen Square.

4.30am, and we had completed the security check - which was basically airline level security; no liquids, all belongings through the X-ray machine, everyone scanned and patted down.

Then another queue to board the legion of buses that had lined up to transport us, and inevitably another two checks of our accreditation.

The night was so clear you could see stars.

It turned out we had plenty of time to do so.

The best part of an hour later we watched the dawn come up over the car park while still waiting to leave, which was honestly slightly nicer than it sounds.

And then finally we were off, in convoy to Tiananmen Square.

Along empty roads, past pavements completely clear of normal people, all approaches to the square heavily controlled, we saw military vehicles and police stationed along the route.

People who live around here had been told not to open or even look out of their windows during the event - so much for the people's parade.

We pulled up outside the Forbidden City in the early morning sun - in front of the famous portrait of Chairman Mao.

From the windows of the bus, we saw some last minute rehearsals - soldiers marching past in tight formation, their commanding officer bellowing instructions, presumably fine-tuning every last detail.

We rushed out to film, but managed about 20 seconds before we were politely, but firmly escorted back behind a red velvet rope and into the gallery set up for foreign press.

Media organisations had drawn lots for the one metre square positions - sadly ours was at the back, but with a great view at least of where the foreign dignitaries, including Vladimir Putin would sit.

The organisers had left us each a small bag with a poncho, baseball cap and a small Chinese flag - presumably in case we were suddenly overcome with patriotic fervour, and felt the urge to join in.

Across the square, the first of the spectators were taking their seats - at one point I saw them being shown how to wave their flags.

These were not just random members of the public - every one will have been carefully vetted and ‎security checked.

Overhead, a perfect, clear blue sky - on Chinese social media they’re calling it 'parade blue', it doesn’t normally look like this.

Factories have been shut down, construction stopped, and car use restricted around the city, in an effort to‎ engineer this idyllic, pollution-free backdrop.

Chinese media reported, variously, eagles and falcons being used to patrol the skies, and monkeys - specially-trained macaques - deployed to destroy birds nests along the route.

Nothing was being left to chance; perfection clearly the order of the day.

Today's national holiday, and much of the military hardware on show may be new, but the choreography could have been for any communist leader past‎.

President Xi Jinping emerged from the Tiananmen Tower to review his troops, from an open-top, Chinese-made car, repeating the well-rehearsed lines expected of him.

Addressing his 'comrades', the commander-in-chief thanked them for their hard work.

"We are serving the people," they shouted back.

Although in reality the People's Liberation Army is loyal to the party first.

And then came the first of the 12,000 troops, marching past with robotic precision.

Followed, in a cloud of engine smoke, by the columns of tanks and artillery.

You could feel the ground vibrate as they rolled past.

The symbolism of tanks rolling through Tiananmen square will have been largely lost on a population that is denied much information about what happened here in 1989.

‎Chinese-made jets roared overhead, and then a swarm of attack helicopters - looking like a scene from Apocalypse Now.

‎It was technically spectacular, and an impressive display of modern military force - amongst other kit on display the so-called ‘carrier killer’, a supersonic, anti-ship missile, that is said to be capable of destroying a US super-carrier in a single strike.

But the atmosphere in the square felt slightly muted, the spectators I could see waved politely, but it was all so carefully controlled it seemed a little sterile.

As soon as it was over, the buses rolled back up, people filed out to depart as they had arrived.

Within an hour the square was back open to traffic, just the rows of empty seats left behind.