I have started this thread so that we may share happier times, no sadness please there is plenty of that to go around.
When I met Mary I was serving in the RAF. On 31st August 1957 I was told that I would be going to the Christmas Islands for 9 months to take part in the H-Bomb tests and that this would be an unaccompanied tour of duty, i.e. no wives would be accompanying us. We were getting married on 14th September following. Since this is to be a happy thread I will skip the anguish this caused.
We decided that since we would be apart for 9 months and I would have little use for money we would blow all our "wealth" on a honymoon in Paris for a week and save for the time we were apart.
Three days into the honymoon I was taken ill with a very nasty tummy bug which weakened me consideraby. On our return we were met by friends at the railway station with Mary striding along carrying two suitcases and me dragging myself ten yards behind looking very pale and weak. Our explanations were brushed aside with knowing looks and we were the butt of many jokes for years after.
On returning to my unit two days later I was given the news that my posting to the Christmas Islands had been cancelled and that I was going on a training courses instead. So there we were, flat broke, nowhere to live and deliriously happy.
Who said life is cruel?
When I met Mary I was serving in the RAF. On 31st August 1957 I was told that I would be going to the Christmas Islands for 9 months to take part in the H-Bomb tests and that this would be an unaccompanied tour of duty, i.e. no wives would be accompanying us. We were getting married on 14th September following. Since this is to be a happy thread I will skip the anguish this caused.
We decided that since we would be apart for 9 months and I would have little use for money we would blow all our "wealth" on a honymoon in Paris for a week and save for the time we were apart.
Three days into the honymoon I was taken ill with a very nasty tummy bug which weakened me consideraby. On our return we were met by friends at the railway station with Mary striding along carrying two suitcases and me dragging myself ten yards behind looking very pale and weak. Our explanations were brushed aside with knowing looks and we were the butt of many jokes for years after.
On returning to my unit two days later I was given the news that my posting to the Christmas Islands had been cancelled and that I was going on a training courses instead. So there we were, flat broke, nowhere to live and deliriously happy.
Who said life is cruel?
