A Spanish Girl and Her English Soldier – A Love Beyond Boundaries

The posting was to the First Battalion in Pirbright. I had been promoted to Captain and was to be the Second in Command of number 2 Company (affectionately known as “Taggy 2”). On operations in Northern Ireland (NI), that role included being the Company Intelligence Officer and NI was where we were going on a four month deployment.

Ana was distraught and while I had a sense of excitement about the adventure to come, the dichotomy of the separation also filled me with dread.  Life in Shorncliffe had been good from the point of view of few separations and longish holidays. Suddenly we were faced with not just the operational tour length, but the preparatory training and the pre advance party, which included me, would go out some two weeks early and in reality we were looking at nearly 5 months apart  with a 4 day “R&R’ somewhere near the middle.

Pirbright, especially without a car, which yet again we were, is quite an isolated small Surrey village with the nearest big towns being Woking and Guildford. The army Quarters were mainly occupied by Grenadier wives or wives of officers working at the Guards Depot. We moved in September and the four of us were quickly ensconced in our new home with its bizarre G plan furniture in psychedelic orange and brown, but yet again Ana triumphed and somehow made it our home. And before we knew it, the separations started – courses, training, more courses, more training and then the day of departure, the knock on the door, the tears, the oh so tight hugs, the dreading of letting go and the unimaginable prospect of our longest ever separation.  It is brutal and although I was feeling awful, I at least had the excitement of the adventure to come. For Ana it must have felt so bleak, so interminable. We had hardly had the chance to get to know anyone although luckily Sue lived nearby in Normandy, nevertheless the loneliness factor has to be added, loneliness in a foreign land and had I had a big family, perhaps they could have embraced her, but not even that.

I missed her horribly and she missed me horribly.  There were money worries too and while there were some kind wives around, many would go off to their own families. And there were some that Ana just could not take to. When she had been at Leeds, she had certainly not taken to all Englishwomen and I am afraid that some Army wives did not help improve her impression.  There was a meanness or tightfistedness which was quite alien to her as was a propensity to talk badly of other people. We had very little money but we were never tightfisted and so when others were, it was incomprehensible to Ana. One example was that she went with two wives to Woking.  Those wives were going in any case.  Ana offered to pay for the petrol which they accepted (all of the petrol, not a share) and she also payed for the car parking….. But equally to save money these same women were happy to ask Ana to have their children to save on babysitting! I mention this because I think it increased her sense of alienation. She found English men kinder, she liked their politeness and she liked elderly couples, but of course many of those left behind by the Battalion were unfortunately precisely the ones she found the least easy to get on with.

The gloom of a small English village in late Autumn and Winter, the loneliness, the foreigness could pile onto the depression. And it did. There were thankfully some intervals. People such as Sue and a few others provided breaks. Johnnie and Janie Wardle, now living nearby in Bagshot showed the warmth and concern of true friends and then did something just astonishing, which was to lend us a car for my R&R (my 4 day break).  By that stage Ana’s mother had come to stay with her which for a while at least was brilliant.  And so we had a wonderful 4 days and Ana’s mother paid for a night in a small hotel.  Long separations involve many aspects of missing: just being in the same house, that sense of togetherness, hugging, light touches or caresses, a quick kiss, a long kiss, conversation, shared chores, making plans, going shopping or for a walk, just looking at each other, laughing together or watching the television, supporting each other in difficult moments, making love.  Letters are the main form of communication and they suffer from delay. The occasional telephone call, very occasional as again things have changed so totally today that it must be hard to understand how few phones there were and how the calls were rationed. And in rereading those letters, it is easy to see how all the elements of missing were at play, but we both tried to be brave.  Certainly it gives perspective, a realisation of how some of the small seemingly boring things can actually be rather wonderful, whether just having a simple supper together, watching television or going shopping – we missed them all. And I missed my daughter and she missed me.

The R&R was so special, so lovely and so full of love.  We really did grab every second to enjoy being back together and the night away in the hotel, the quiet dinner with just the two of us and a night that I shall never forget was another leap forward in our relationship, was falling in love all over again, was realising that the dream person of our separation was in fact even better than our dream.  The knock on the door when the transport arrived to take me back was chilling.  And the letters flowed again. And Ana told me something very special.  It was hard for her to explain but she said that for our first few years together, it was as though there had been something in her which held her back, something not yet given, something perhaps not quite decided.  I think to understand this, one has to think of her dreams and her fears, that somewhere she had tried to put up a small defensive shield, almost a pre-emptive defence.  Now for me this was not evident, far from it for the way in which she had loved me and committed to me felt so utterly total.  And perhaps for her this wall was only there in the darkness of depressions, but she felt it had been there.  What she told me in the letter was the most astonishing declaration of total love. The wall had vanished, all doubts had vanished. All she wanted was to be with me and Natalia our daughter full stop.  Now in my mind this is amazing, also full stop. But put into the context of her life at that moment it was incredible and of course for me it simply made me love her even more, although I would not have thought that possible.

Northern Ireland came to an end and Public duties (Ceremonial) became the focus. For me NI had had its fun moments and its exciting moments and its Monty Python moments. Operating in plain clothes and unmarked cars was exciting.  One would hope for an unremarkable car that would not be conspicuous.  So it was with a mix of laughter and incredulity that we discovered that our fleet included a bright yellow VW van and an Imp, neither of which existed anywhere else in the border region where we were operating…………… I remember a conversation one night with the Technical Quartermaster where I asked if we could have a ‘Starsky and Hutch’ magnetic blue flashing light for our ‘covert car’ as it was sometimes hard to identify ourselves if we wanted to pull someone over. He said absolutely not, convinced that we would miss the roof as we hurled it out of the window and that the countryside would end up full of blue flashing lights.

Ana and I were back together, we could lead our life again, but only until September when I was sent on the Signal Officers Course at Warminster for 3 months up to Christmas which meant being away all week and getting a lift home for the weekend that sometimes had to end on a Sunday evening. And to make matters worse, we then had to face a 6 week separation as the Battalion went on exercise to the Sudan in January and February before another tour of Northern Ireland loomed in the autumn.  It seemed that we were being separated all the time and it never got better, it never got easier. But we survived it. What Ana must have thought she had let herself in for in the gloomy depths of darkness is hard to picture and looking back, I can only say thank you again and again for sticking with me. Somehow we led our life of love forward.  We were still living a life of being in love, there was romance and attraction galore. We were best friends. We laughed together and we held together and every second showed me the wonder of this amazing girl – I could not take my eyes off her. And little by little as her English got better, so she started to shine even more for others who might not have been so perceptive as to recognise what was before them.

There were good moments, fun moments, parties and Sunday lunches in the Mess. There were some wonderful wives such as Jenny Clavering and Marie Dominique (French) and some fun officers with whom we would party.  There were the usual financial worries. There was concern for our daughter’s knees which luckily turned out ok and Ana would continue to worry about what was going on with her family in Spain. We managed a trip together out there in the summer and Ana flew back to Madrid while I was in Sudan – that turned out to be  a tense time for her. But by the time we were in Sudan I had had enough. The outgoing Commanding Officer had been kind to me and I did not want to hurt his feelings so I awaited the arrival of the new one before asking to resign my commission. I wanted out. I don’t think he took it very well. And I don’t think he forgot it.

The return from Sudan produced a horrible moment as I arrived back in Pirbright to find an empty house with no Ana there.  She had telephoned the commander of the rear party to explain that she could not get a flight from Spain that day and would arrive the day after – but of course he could not get hold of me as we were flying back on a Hercules (just a bit more quickly than the slow boat from China).  Her return was like the sunlight bursting out of a heavy dark cloud filled sky.  It felt as though we had been apart for ages and the reunion had that sense of the unreal as though floating above the ground, spinning around reminiscent of that wonderful scene at the railway station in “Un Home et une Femme” where the camera spins around the embracing couple.

My resignation led to much discussion ensuing and I was told that I could go to Berlin with the Battalion if I stayed. This was tempting at several levels. It meant we would get overseas allowance and other perks which would ease the financial strain and Berlin was in any case a dream City, encircled by the Wall, full of culture and history – and as fans of the author Christopher Isherwood (“Cabaret”), we both found the prospect irresistible.  We decided to hang on and look forward to our next adventure. The prospect of city life after Pirbright was energising.

The year was busy with ceremonial duties and then the next NI tour of South Armagh loomed.  I have not touched on it before, but a soldier’s wife has to suffer not just the separation but that constant worry, often fear. On this tour 3 Guardsmen were killed in a cowardly ambush. They were from my old Company and two of them I had known at Shorncliffe as well. There is hardly a day that goes by when I do not think of them. Such realities simply heighten the worry of those left behind.  And so on top of the loneliness and isolation there is that constant dread.  Luckily Ana’s parents decided to come over and then drove Ana back down France, along the top of Spain and through Portugal to Madrid where she stayed until just before Christmas. The journey was tense and the stay in Madrid also as her parents situation deteriorated and I think life in the house was cramped which hardly helps.  My tour in N Ireland was foreshortened as I had to go on a command and staff course which started in January in Warminster. Again the weeks would be apart but at least we would get the weekends together. Still with no car, albeit the reality of one was fast approaching, I was lucky to discover a Sandhurst friend was commuting and effectively going past our house to the same course, so travel sorted and weekends back together.  Those weekends were precious and we lived them to the full.

Then one day the deal was done and we were the proud owner of a brand new Alfa Romeo, an Alfetta.  It was tax free and a special deal as it was about to be superseded, but we loved her.  Just having the car outside, knowing that we could jump in and go made an enormous difference. We were due to move to Berlin in July and between April and then would be fairly hectic. I had various courses I was meant to attend. The Battalion had to pack up and move lock stock and barrel.  And despite the car, despite having less lengthy separations, there was a tension. The bombardment that we had both taken over the previous two and a half years was brutal; Ana’s depressions had got worse and she needed a break.  And if I am going to be brutally honest perhaps I did too. The love was undiminished, in fact probably stronger than ever as was the attraction. What had if anything taken a battering was the friendship simply because the arguments had pushed us a little apart. I suspect that I may have misread that and so did she.  In any case, Ana returned to Menorca to work in her father’s hotel.  The two months were indeed hectic, but I missed her horribly and I missed Natalia who was by now three and half years old

So come July, everything was done and I few out to Menorca to rejoin my family, the people I loved most in the world and it was an amazing reunion. It started slightly uncomfortably in the car with both parents who had taken Ana to meet me at the airport. I was not sure of what she had told them. Ana was wearing a dark blue dress with little white polka dots. It was rushed around the waist and top. She was tanned; her hair shone brilliantly and was so silky – she was in short a picture and yet again I found myself falling in love all over again on the Island where we were married. We were able to have a bit of a holiday, going to the beach, evenings in the lovely old port of Ciudadela and we were able to spend time together just the two of us.  And it felt better than it ever had.  I then flew back to England to pick up the car and drive to Berlin through the Russian checkpoint, down the corridor and into that extraordinary city of light.

Berlin was to be the place where the exotic flower that I knew, that I had stolen from Spain was to finally burst into full blossom in an explosion of joyful light and colour, to reveal its true beauty and charm, to bewitch and beguile to enchant and to be fully recognised by all in the way that I had from the very beginning. Three hard years were behind us. We had come through slightly bruised, slightly battered, but we had come through and just as importantly so had our love and so had our fundamental need to be together, because we knew we were in spirit one.  The time in Menorca had allowed us to leap back into each other’s arms with joy, to rediscover our childlike joy and happiness of being together, to prove beyond all doubt that we could not be apart, that we were really all that mattered to each other, a trio of love and playfulness, inseparable, together for life.