In March, Zero Alpha's* bloods came back "perfect" (our GP's words). In May she walked the Moonwalk marathon for breast cancer around London for the third time. In the summer, the heat wearied her. She developed a phlegmy cough that wouldn't shift and she was exhausted.
In October I convinced her to see a GP. They took bloods, which led to a CT scan.
It is with a heavy heart and a tear in my eye that I have to tell you the CT scan revealed advanced incurable metastatic colon cancer.
Yesterday morning, after a short but devastating battle, she was taken from me. Mercifully she got the chance to put her affairs in order, and after her lifelong best friend got to see her on Moday, she slipped away peacefully yesterday about 0500 TCT.
A favour, if we all wouldn't mind. 21st December will be about 45 years since I met Sue at the Unit Paymaster's house.
As his navigator of choice in the regimental yacht racing team, he and his dear wife had joined me at my table in the Schützenhalle Bad Lippspringe for the recent 1980 Corporals' Mess Christmas Draw (I had just returned to a squadron after three years in Command Troop, and was in a bit of limbo). He'd employed a new nanny and wanted a trustworthy soldier to show her round Paderborn. I told him I'd see if I could find him a trustworthy soldier.
45 years later the exact date is gone when I first met Sue on his doorstep, just over the road from camp, but it was within a day or two of the Sahagún festivities. The 1808 battle of Sahagún was essentially a 15th Light Dragoons (Hussars) only battle (on our side: don't remind the French about the cavalry brigade our boys smashed) and the big day of the year for 15th/19th The King's Royal Hussars and their successors, The Light Dragoons. Sahagún day has always been robustly celebrated, in particular, the eve of the battle, the evening of the 20th.
Since all my 15/19H buddies will all have their own drinking to do on the 20th, and since the 21st is otherwise memorable to me, close enough and at the weekend, I'd like to ask Torn a favour (and share the word with their friends).
Sue set me on the path to a successful life (sadly away from my 15/19H buddies, but I doubt we'd have made it this far together had I not moved on) and we very nearly made it to 45 years together, having become engaged within weeks.
In memory of Sue, on 21st December between 8pm TCT (which would have been 1960 were there more than 60 minutes in the hour) and 8.25pm (2025) I shall slowly savour one drink to celebrate the life of my one true love, taken young.
I'd be honoured if all my Torn friends join me in a virtual toast to "Loved ones. You never know when they'll be taken from you." Give your loved ones a hug and tell them you'll love them forever.
If I can get all my various groups to do this, maybe there'll be a little more love around this crazy, angry world.
Thank you for bearing with me. I hope you can spare 25 minutes of your time to join me, even if it's full of Elimination and Xmas Town and stuff.
_____
* For the non-military.
Until July 1982, Zero Alpha was the radio callsign of the senior command vehicle on the battlegroup command net. Obviously then, if the callsign Zero Alpha was heard, it was clear to eavesdroppers that they were listening to a battlegroup command net, which might be lucrative.
In July 1982, British military voice procedure and callsigns were given a major shake-up to reduce information such as this being of use to enemies. Thereafter, the senior person on any net, took the callsign Zero Alpha.
In either case, on the domestic command net, Zero Alpha was the boss, and to any British soldier, Zero Alpha refers to the Long-haired General. The boss.