Think of Me When the Daffodils bloom - Part1

 Think of Me When the Daffodils Bloom

My father was a career officer in the British army during World War Two. He was born in the Channel Islands and had been sent to private military schools and groomed for a military career.

He was stationed in Aldershot, just outside the environs of London, prior to being sent overseas. One day, while flat on his back under a car he was repairing, he saw a pair of attractive ankles attached to a pair of attractive legs pause beside his vehicle. He rolled out from under the car and looked up into huge dark brown eyes and fell in love in a heartbeat. According to the lady's memory, (my mother) she looked down into beautiful blue eyes and fell in love completely and for all time in that moment.

My mother was a private in the ATS ( Auxiliary Territorial Service...whatever that means) and was stationed at the same army base. She was primarily an ambulance driver and later became a staff driver....that is, driving officers, from majors to generals, all over England to secret meetings. A few times she had the honour of driving Montgomery himself. At that point in time courtships were conducted rather hurriedly because soldiers could be shipped off somewhere almost without warning. Their courtship was no exception.

They met whenever they were both off duty and went dancing with friends or for a few drinks at the officers' club or the local pub.They tried to squeeze as much pleasure as they could into their brief times together. Everyone seemed a little desperate to enjoy themselves during those dark and terrifying times. They could often hear the bombs dropping over the sound of the music.
They knew from the first that they would marry and saw no reason to wait. My father, who was a major at that time, knew he would be sent away shortly and wanted a hasty wedding so he could spend the last week with his bride.

They married and their best man, Jack, a Canadian soldier, later became my uncle by marriage.Their honeymoon was, according to them, very romantic and very intense. They had to pack a lot into a week. I never pressed for details.

My father was sent away to India to train Indian soldiers and my mom continued with her duties. Sometimes she would visit her family in London and take Jack, who was lonely and homesick, with her. It was a dangerous thing to do. London was under constant bombardment but they seemed to live charmed lives. My mother had five sisters and a brother in London and was always worried about them. When Jack met her younger sister, he fell head over heels for her but the wedding didn't take place until the war was over.  At this point it was in it's second to last year.

She didn't see my father again for two years. It must have been an eternity to them. She wrote to him often but a lot of those letters never reached him. She sent him a photograph and a lock of her hair and he sent her a portrait of himself (both of which can be seen at the conclusion of this post). He too, sent a lock of his hair. The two curls of hair one dark brown and one black now lie entwined in a family album.

When he finally got leave and knocked on her door in London; it was like meeting a stranger.They felt a little awkward and since they were both shy people, they couldn't find the right words for a time and just gazed at each other, looking for the magic they had felt at first meeting. Of course, as soon as they fell into each other's arms, the magic began again and stayed with them throughout a long and happy marriage of fifty five years.

My father had been offered a colonelcy if he agreed to stay in India. He did not know what he wanted to do. The course of their lives and later, mine, would be changed irrevocably if he accepted......
To be continued.