The unvarnished truth about the inaugural balls that you didn’t see on TV: Paramedics, women collapsing, phone signal JAMMED… and why, for MAGA world, it was all worth it!

As the clock ticked past 11pm on Monday, even the hardiest among the MAGA stock in Walter E Convention Center Hall A had begun to fade.

The hodgepodge of political A to D-listers, Trumpy out-of-towners and die-hard January Sixers who had flocked to DC and convened to celebrate Donald Trump’s inauguration as the 47th president, were nearing collapse.

Some gave way entirely. Occasionally, a paramedic would dash through the concrete ballroom, illuminated by strobe light, to render aid.

Even Trumpettes in the ladies’ room were complaining about the long wait to see the new first couple (scheduled to arrive between 7.30 and 8.30pm).

Suddenly, an announcer’s voice cut through the late 70s greatest hits soundtrack.

‘Ladies and Gentlemen, the United States Air Force Band.’

A frisson of excitement licked through the room. Cell phone and Wi-Fi signals dropped – a good sign, said those in the know: ‘They’re jamming the signals. He’s near.’

Then: ‘Please welcome the President of the United States Donald Trump and his First Lady, Melania Trump.’

Next, a surge of exhilaration and a sea of cellphones held aloft as President Trump and Melania belatedly took the stage here at the Liberty Ball to gasps of delight. And boy, did these people deserve the thrill.

With the center of DC shut down, high-heeled women in gowns and patent-shoed men in tuxedos (and more fur coats than I could count) had already trudged through biting, sub-zero temperatures for several blocks from where their Ubers had dropped them off. At the gates to the convention hall they found a heaving mass of humanity.

It wasn’t a ‘line’. It was a ‘sh**show,’ said one frozen attendee.

A hardy woman (surely, from Kansas, as they don’t grow her stock inside the Beltway) took off her shoes and put her gloves on her feet. Husbands and boyfriends held places while their grateful wives and girlfriends took refuge in the lobby of the nearby Conrad hotel. Opportunistic street hawkers sold hand and feet warmers for $20 a pop

The swarm looped clear around a full city block.

There were rumors that a gate had been kicked in and that was the source of delay, but the truth was more prosaic. There were three balls across DC – The Commander-in-Chief, the Liberty and the Starlight – and all the ‘VIP’ guests, several thousands of them, were stuck in a bottleneck, funneling through a single gate.

In all, it took more than three hours to reach the front of the horde. But once inside…. well, it was all rather underwhelming. Tacky, triumphant and slightly unhinged.

Cash bars served drinks in plastic cups and buffet stations dotted around the vast convention center hall featured hot plates of tepid meatballs, gyozas and barbecue chicken biscuits with slabs of room-temperature cheese.

The sound system pumped out all the greatest hits of Trump’s rally playlists – Queen’s, ‘We Are the Champions,’ Oasis’s ‘Wonderwall’ and Elton John’s ‘Rocket Man,’ an ode to Elon Musk perhaps. A Billy Ray Cyrus music video flashed up on the screens that wrapped around the room.

One on side, there was a wall of ‘entertainment.’

Sebastian Gorka, Trump’s pick for senior director of counterterrorism, was taking a swing at one of two golf simulators set up, perhaps, to distract partiers from the quality of the food and drink.

Coats that went unchecked – few wanted to stand in yet another line – were discarded on the cornhole sets placed in a mock American backyard, complete with a picket fence and faux grass.

Those who needed to take a load off sat in cream leather easy chairs and watched the Notre Dame v Ohio State (of which new Vice President JD Vance is an alum) game.

Others waited to have their picture taken against a variety of Trump-themed backdrops; the desk in the Oval Office, a McDonald’s drive-through window out of which the President waved, his mugshot.

It was a MAGA-world amusement park complete with Americana and kitsch with a healthy dose of hubris.

Harriet Hageman, Congresswoman for Wisconsin stood near the entrance. Her takeaway from the day, she told Daily Mail, was, ‘Hope and excitement. America is back and better than ever.’

Another political big hitter – with a key national security job and who declined to be named – spoke of the thrill of the task ahead: ‘A chance to save Western civilization.’

Texan Congressman Chip Roy was there in the thick of it, surrounded by women in sequined Stetsons and men still wearing their MAGA hats from earlier in the day.

Then pyrotechnics and the announcement that Jason Aldean was taking to the stage. The singer, who once prompted a liberal meltdown with his song, ‘Try that in a Small Town,’ played for more than an hour. During his high-octane set someone collapsed at the front of the stage. He called for paramedics and signaled, ‘Cut the music?’ to the sound desk.

‘No need,’ came the response and the music played on. It was the first of many moments when EMTs and security rushed the convention room floor.

As the night stretched on a line formed at a first aid station near the back of the room. Everyone was here for Trump, and none intended on leaving without being able to say they were in the same room as him, if only briefly – medical emergencies be damned.

When the 47th President did finally take the stage – joined first by a mesmerizing Melania, then Ivanka and Jared Kushner, Don Jr, Kai, Tiffany and all the glittering brood – the pain of the previous hours was forgotten.

Behind me one man summed it up, breathless and excited, he hollered into the night, ‘I can’t believe we’re finally back.’