Chapter 15: The Beginning of the End

A few days after Annabel's visit Pippa received notice that her thesis had been approved and that she would be awarded a Doctorate of Philosophy in Social Anthropology. She organised a night out to celebrate with her university friends and work colleagues, I was invited to join them but had declined.

"This is for you Academics to celebrate; I would stick out like a sore thumb amongst you. Go and enjoy it with those who've helped you with all the research and such, anyway I'm on duty that night." I wasn't but I had my reasons for saying that.

Pippa tried to persuade me to join them; she said that I was probably more responsible than most for the award, but I sent her off with the injunction to enjoy herself. I thought it might be on the cards that she and Hugo would end up sleeping together and I didn't want to be in the way.

I had finally faced up to the fact that she and I would part when the battalion moved on, and it was obvious to me, if not to her, that Hugo loved her. They were really made for each other and I couldn't understand how such a smart and savvy person like Pippa hadn't yet realised it. Or perhaps she had already but was keeping it from herself until such times as I had left; it was out of a sense of loyalty that she denied the obvious ... what a woman!

Two weeks later, at the beginning of July, I accompanied her to Cambridge University to see her take part in the ceremony of the awarding of Doctorates. When she went up to the podium to receive her scroll I was so proud of her, and for her, that I had tears in my eyes. Doctor Phillipa Goddard, PhD, MA, BA (Hons)!

After coming down from off the stage clutching her diploma, she had been surrounded by well-wishers. I looked at her and knew that without a shadow of a doubt that Academia was her life, as the army was mine, and our two lives were not and never would be compatible. Pippa suddenly looked up and saw me looking at her. The smile she gave wrapped me in a blanket of warmth and love and gratitude, and that picture of her, with shining eyes, gorgeous in her gown, with the swathe of coloured silk over her shoulders denoting her faculty and grade, and her Doctors cap worn at a rakish angle, is the picture of Pippa that I will carry with me to my grave.

I went over and hugged her. "Which one of these Fellows deserves having his lights punched out?"

"Oh Dewey, you remembered" she said, slightly tremulously, "the fact that you remembered and came ready to do it is something I'll always treasure."

I hope she still does.

On the 2nd of August 1990 Saddam Hussein invaded Kuwait, and the world was never the same again. I didn't take a great deal of notice of it at the time. As far as I was concerned it was just one bunch of foreigners chopping up another bunch of foreigners. It's what they did in that part of the world; it was practically the national sport. They were doing it long before the arrival of the British in the area, and when we arrived they stopped chopping up each other and turned to chopping us up instead. As soon as they got their 'independence' they went back to chopping each other up with renewed gusto.

Pippa didn't approve of my non PC description of the combatants, which wasn't 'foreigners'. If I used the term here that I had used to describe them to Pippa I would be dragged off by the PC Gestapo. Isn't it wonderful to live in a land that defends free speech!

Of course, as time went on, it looked like someone would have to go down to Kuwait and persuade Mr Saddam to leave, probably accompanied by an army in order to influence his decision. It turned out that 3RGJ were among those invited to attend and we were to fly out to Saudi Arabia sometime in November.