Chapter 18: Farewell

Getting posted away from a unit was always the consequence of bring caught 'hiding the sausage' with a comrade's wife, and although Ffion and I had not been actually discovered in flagrante it was now common knowledge at Trenchard Barracks that she and I had been conducting an illicit sexual liaison. It was also standard operating procedure (sop) to post a man away from his battalion should he be reduced to the ranks, as old scores may have been settled by the junior ranks he had disciplined when a NCO. So I was a two time loser, and I soon had my kit packed, ready to head off to a new posting. My most probable destination would be 2 RGJ, but they were in the process of returning to the UK from Cyprus, so I wouldn't be able to join them until the battalion arrived back at their base in Catterick.

Meantime, I was something of an embarrassment to 1RGJ, and was 'invited' to take some leave to get me off camp. Although I was back in contact with Miriam (presents and cards at Christmas had been acknowledged and appreciated), it was still too soon for me to forgive or forget what she had said to me, and I expect the same held good for her, so spending my leave in Plaistow wasn't an option.

Fortunately, Franklin and Celeste came to my rescue and insisted that I stay with them in Celle until my posting came through. During my stay with them I hardly left the flat, but I did go and have a farewell drink with the lads from my old platoon. Several were clearly upset that I was leaving them, especially young Jazzer Cartwright, who after a few drinks hung on my neck and said that I'd saved his career and had introduced him to the best girl in the world, and that I was the best Sergeant that he'd ever served with (and the first), and generally made a bit of a prat of himself. I returned to Franklin and Celeste's flat feeling a bit sorry for myself; they were a good bunch of lads, and I knew that I had let them down and left them in the lurch, by allowing myself to get into this position.

During all this time, starting from the day after me punching Gareth Probert, I suffered the most horrendous withdrawal symptoms, from not seeing Ffion. I'm not exaggerating. I missed her smell, her smile, her voice, but most of all the adrenaline rush I got when we had sex – or made love, as I now regarded what we had had together. My head and guts ached, my heart ached, and my balls ached; it was like going cold turkey not to be with her. The agony of giving up smoking was nothing to what I was going through, and I now have some sympathy for drug addicts.

It was an afternoon about a week after the night out with the boys. Franklin was on duty, Celeste was just home from her job as a part time nurse, in a care home in Celle, and I was reading the local paper, when the doorbell rang. Celeste went to answer it and came back a few moments later with a strange look on her face.

"Ffion Probert wants to talk to you, shall I let her in?"

My whole being shouted 'Yes! Yes! Yes!' But for the first time in my life my head ruled my heart, or rather ruled my prick.

"No" I said, "It's all over between us."

I knew that if I did see her I would be hooked for life, and although it broke my heart to turn away from her my head knew it was the correct thing to do. Celeste gave me a huge smile and left the room. I heard voices out in the hall and then the sound of the front door closing. Celeste came back into the room.

"She's gone David, and you know you've done the right thing."

I nodded bleakly "Yes I know, but why do I feel like a grade one shite?"

Celeste came over and gave me a hug, and I breathed in her fragrance. We stood for a moment then she said, "Ffion gave me this to give to you," and handed me an envelope.

My mind shot back to the time when Ffion had handed me an envelope. That had contained a full frontal nude photograph of her, with the instructions for our first meeting, but I quickly banished that picture from my head. I opened the envelope and read the letter. I'm not going to give a verbatim account of what Ffion wrote, as it was very personal, from one lover to another on the sad moment when they had to part. As I read it I realised that Ffion had come to say goodbye, and that she had been quite prepared for not actually seeing me. The relevant part of the letter said:

Des, my love. I love you and always will. However I also love Gareth, not in the way I love you but more like the love a mother has for her disabled child, and make no mistake, my poor Gareth is disabled. He is a coward, a homosexual and a drug addict; how can I leave him to face the world alone? He will be in the military prison at Shepton Mallet for at least 6 years, I will wait for his release and try and rebuild our life together.

I knew that he was bisexual when I married him, but thought that my love, and I did love him, would lead him to become completely heterosexual. The first two years of our married life were great, but then I had Geraint and things changed. Gareth needed to be the centre of my life, but when I couldn't give him all my time and attention he returned to having affairs with men. He has not slept with me from that time on. I am a passionate woman, who needs plenty of physical sex, and I found willing partners wherever we were posted. You are the only man who I fell in love with, I want you to know that, and that you are a very special sort of man, who I will remember forever. I hope in time you will forgive me for what I have led you in to.

Gareth had joined the army the year before we were married, but he was totally unsuited to army life. Although he looks and acts the part of a professional soldier he is terrified of getting shot and maimed, and did everything in his power to avoid going to Northern Ireland, even dropping a weight on his foot, breaking several bones. He admired you so much; he wanted to be like you, brave and courageous, in fact you are his hero. Gareth managed to keep his homosexuality well hidden, only having affairs with non-military men. When we were posted to Celle he joined the motor cycle club and fell in love with one of the members, Zander Kohl. They used to do drugs together and Gareth became hooked on cocaine. You know that the army have frequent checks for drug taking amongst the ranks but as a Staff Sergeant he was never checked. Kohl was killed in a road accident last month and Gareth went off the rails with grief. He blamed me for Kohl's death, I've no idea why he would think that, but I suppose that is why he hit me. Gareth is not a wife beater, that was the first time he had ever laid a finger on me and it was totally out of character.'