Poetic secretary was just my type

WHILE serving with the Army in what was then Malaya in 1961, I used to read the Daily Sketch (which went on to merge with the Daily Mail). One particular feature caught my eye: three squaddies from the Royal Signals, based at Catterick, Yorkshire, had said they would marry any girl who bought them out of the Army for £250. Three days later, there was a follow-up — a centre spread showing a photograph of six typists who had composed a poem in response to the squaddies, saying they were off to look for someone better. The typists were pictured on the roof of their workplace, and the company’s address was included in the article. I told my mate I liked the look of one of the girls, Rosemary. So I wrote to her, hoping for, but not expecting, a reply. A couple of weeks later, I got one. My regiment came home and landed at Southampton on Friday, February 16, 1962. I caught the last boat train to London and went straight to Rosemary’s home address, where I met her family. On the Sunday, we went to London, and on the Monday I went to work with Rosemary before going home to Frinton in Essex to see my parents. On the Tuesday, I was back in London to meet Rosemary from work. Our romance continued with me seeing her most days and her meeting my family. When I was posted to Northern Ireland, we phoned each other most days, she using the call box at the end of her road. We were married on March 23, 1963, and have just celebrated our 55th wedding anniversary. We have two sons, a daughter and eight grandchildren, and are for ever grateful to Shaun Usher, the reporter whose feature brought us together.

Wally Wash, Fareham, Hants.