DAVID THORNE

David Calthrop Thorne (much loved husband of Anne, adored father of Edward, Georgina, Laura, distinguished soldier, citizen leader, a force for good in the world, and talented sportsman) was born in 1933 in Hertfordshire, the son of a Colonial Policeman. Although he spent some 5 years in Tanganyika, he was brought up mostly in Devon. His mother largely attended to his early upbringing, with his identical twin brother and right hand man Mike. She instilled in her boys a love of animals, joy in the countryside and plain good manners. It was, perhaps, during the war years, surrounded by the machinery of war, soldiers and uniforms that the idea was sparked for a life of military service.

David was commissioned from Sandhurst into the Royal Norfolk Regiment in 1954 and from the beginning, he established himself as an outstanding young officer who simply adored soldiering. His men loved him and he looked after them as if they were his own family. He added to his stature by playing county-level cricket for Norfolk and he won his operational spurs early in his service during the EOKA campaign in Cyprus.

He was soon selected to be the ADC to one of the Army’s senior officers. They obviously got on famously. The General was enchanted with this young man. He saw David as intensely keen and energetic, throwing himself wholeheartedly into everything he did, loyalty and integrity absolute, well mannered and helpful, very good on the wireless set, full of enthusiasm, with a loud and ready laugh. But he also told David he was impetuous and apt to rush in without due thought, was inclined to muck in too much with soldiery and was a poor checker who didn’t know what to look for when inspecting a house.

In this assessment, the general captured the essence of David, for many of those same characteristics shone brightly throughout his career. And as Anne and the family will confirm, he had that happy knack of disappearing just as the washing up had to be done and was completely incapable of closing a door.

And so onwards and upwards through a classic but highly successful series of appointments. He had a particularly happy time as Adjutant of the 4th Battalion of the Royal Norfolks, based in Britannia Barracks in Norwich. This was a job well within his competence and he was able to make the most of the social life in Norfolk and Suffolk. Indeed, it was on one such social occasion in 1962 that the young Miss Goldsmith was to accidentally nudge his much-prized red sports car. Within 3 months, after a whirlwind courtship and an acceptance by Anne that, in this case, the marriage vows included the dog, David and Anne were married and were setting up home in the first of many married quarters in Norwich.

Their first posting together was to the Staff College at Minley followed by two years at the RAF Cadet College Cranwell as an instructor. Edward arrived courtesy of the Louise Margaret Hospital, and together they made many friends amongst staff and students alike. David left Cranwell and in early 1966 rejoined his battalion, by now The Royal Anglian Regiment as a company commander. It was also at this time that I first met David, in what I was later to discover was as powerful a team as any battalion could wish for. David Commanded A Company and Mike commanded B Company - under the hand of one of the most noted battalion commanders of his day – Lt Col, later to be General, the late Tim Creasey.

I joined Mike’s Company and soon realised that the sooner I could recognise my own company commander, the faster my military career was likely to progress. It took about a month and I found that looking for the dog in the first instance would often save embarrassment, but David was always marvellous – never making one feel inadequate for the same mistake again. And I know the same was true of Mike for the subalterns in other companies.

It was as stimulating and exciting a start as anyone could have in Regimental life. We learned about being an officer and above all we learned about integrity and leadership. And we learned all of this from these two brothers who came from the same stable. You can just see David, as we did, after a serious accident in his Scout Car, discharging himself early from hospital and then, whilst still recovering and ignoring the pain and his disabilities, lead his Company on the 100 km Nijmegen Marches. And it was during this tour that Georgina was born.

There followed a six month course at the Joint Services Staff College before the first of many postings to the Ministry of Defence and it was a surprise to no one that he was selected at the earliest possible age of 36, for promotion to Lieutenant Colonel. So, at the beginning of the 70s he found himself as an instructor at the RAF Staff College at Bracknell, where he made many friends in the RAF.

In June 1972, in Cyprus, David achieved one of his greatest ambitions, which was to command his battalion. He was immediately dubbed "Action Man" - stemming from his opening address which he gave atop a six-foot table with a radio in one hand, a rifle in the other and a pair of boots beside him. It was here, too, that his famous butterfly net first came into action, often with the help of the young Edward. He realised immediately that the sunshine posting had dangers for the battalion, which could only be avoided if it trained hard. And this he set about with his usual determination and boundless energy.

Every available square inch of Cyprus, the deserts of Sharjah and the central uplands of Kenya echoed with the sound of his boys and their endeavours. Those same boys loved him. They should have grumbled - but they didn’t. He knew his battalion inside out. They knew that he would never ask them to do anything he wouldn’t do himself. He always took great care to explain down to the rifleman in the section exactly what he was trying to achieve and why. Of course we had to win everything – not just because he said we must, but because we didn’t want to let him down.

We heard that, on return to England at the end of 2 years in Cyprus, the battalion was given the role of the cold weather warfare battalion. Although the Army’s involvement in Northern Ireland was in full swing, the battalion was to be exempt operational duty there on the basis that teaching 800 infantrymen to ski and then fight on skis was no mean task and they weren’t to be distracted from it. David set about training us for skiing by having a dry ski slope built. He opened it formally by being the first man down. He set off from the top and over a distance of about 30 metres fell 20 times. We never saw him on skis again.

Arriving back in England, David determined that there was still time to take the battalion on operations. He slipped up to London quietly one day to see an old friend in the MoD and somehow persuaded him that the battalion should be given a 4 month operational tour in Northern Ireland. On return he said to me : 'Mike, get the Battalion on parade at 3 o’clock this afternoon.' So, on that dull, overcast summer’s afternoon he announced the news to an unsuspecting battalion formed upon the square at Tidworth. The news was met with a stunned silence, which I think threw David at first. But, within 2 days the battalion came to life and the buzz of a forthcoming operational tour lifted its collective spirits, made it sail through a major colours parade and embarked it on its operational tour in cracking form. David was awarded the OBE for his time in command, to wide acclaim.

After another stint at The Ministry of Defence, during which time Laura was born, David was selected to command 3 Infantry Brigade with responsibility for military operations in support of the RUC in the centre and south of the province. It was an old team reunited. The GOC was Lt Gen Sir Timothy Creasey and David one of his Brigade Commanders. He took over at a time in the campaign when terrorist activity was at its height. In 1979 David’s brigade suffered more casualties than in any previous year of the campaign and more explosive was being used than at any time since the early seventies. For David, the most serious day was 27 Aug 1979 when Lord Mountbatten was murdered and 18 soldiers were killed at Warrenpoint, including David Blair the Commanding Officer of The Queens Own Highlanders. It was after this major incident that he briefed Mrs Thatcher for the first time and presented her an epaulette with the words : 'Madam, this is all I have left of a very brave officer, David Blair.'

David was a brilliant field commander. There was no other time in his career when he had to draw as heavily on his reservoirs of resilience and stamina, which never ran dry. His unfailingly prompt arrival at every incident, time and again, day or night, served to calm emotions, to bolster morale and to ensure that effective follow up action was quickly mounted. Everyone saw that he scorned physical danger, that he radiated an air of cheerful confidence and he exhilarated and inspired people in the aftermath of disaster.

In these strained circumstances, Anne had created a full and happy family life for him and was a constant source of support. Edward and Georgina providing the normal in an abnormal lifestyle - Laura coming down to help him with his paperwork at 5 am in the morning, the sheep, ducks, dogs and cats and the young NCOs on his personal staff. Under the most exacting of operational conditions, David had emerged as one of the Army’s leaders of the highest quality. He was awarded a CBE for his time in Command, which extinguished the OBE he had been awarded for his time in battalion command. It should have been a DSO.

In the following year, whilst at the RCDS (Royal College of Defence Studies) and having installed Anne and the family in The Old Rectory at Stanton, he heard that he was, at 47 years of age, to be given accelerated promotion to Major General. He was to be responsible for the logistic support systems for the Army. When he reported for duty, he could not have known that in the next 2 years his and the family’s life were going to be dominated by events some 8000 miles away in the South Atlantic.

On 2 Apr 1982 the Argentineans invaded the Falkland Islands. There was no contingency plan on the shelf for this eventuality. The force would need ammunition, clothing, equipment and rations if it were to succeed. It was David’s intuitive feel and determined drive to deliver these requirements that allowed the logistic system to hold and Port Stanley to be taken on 14 Jun some 10 weeks later.

Just after the victory, David heard that he had been chosen to become the first post-war Commander of the Falkland Islands Garrison and its Military Commissioner. The glamour of war was over. The aftermath would fill with recrimination, there was true military chaos to be sorted out in the middle of the severe South Atlantic winter and the end of hostilities had not been declared. This was a potential poisoned chalice for any military commander.

The story of David’s achievements over the next nine months deserves a tribute on its own. His highly professional development of a concept of operations to defend the islands against further attacks. His successful repudiation of the siren calls for precipitate reductions of force levels in the face of a continuing and real threat. His methodical and determined clear-up of the debris of war and the rebuilding of the facilities on the island, including the important airfield. His recognition of the need to work with Sir Rex Hunt to allow the civil community to recover from its trauma with dignity and without being swamped by the military. His love of the incredible wild life and his endeavours to help with its conservation. His attention to the morale and the motivation of his troops both at the individual and unit level. His care and sensitive handling of the war dead, on land and at sea, and the visits of their relatives. His need to work in harmony with all 3 services, as he became the Joint Commander – indeed he made many lasting friendships with all ranks from both the Royal Navy and Royal Air Force. And his steadfastness in the face of an irrational media hostility when they decided that a trip by Anne and some of the family was a 'General’s Perk' - not accepting that, unlike his soldiers, he would not see the family for 9 months.

The Prime Minister, Mrs Thatcher, described her visit as one of the most wonderful experiences of her life. In her letter to Anne after David’s death she said : 'Our way of life in Britain has a habit of bringing forth heroes, and David was one of them.'
I remember taking off from Stanley Airfield having said goodbye to him, and seeing, as the aircraft turned on its long flight back to Ascension Island, this tiny figure precariously suspended on a rope underneath a helicopter over the South Atlantic. It was David being lowered onto the tug towing an accommodation ship taking a navigational and weather gamble to get round the island to where the soldiers desperately needed somewhere to live. David was going to support the skipper on his journey. And another occasion when he alighted from a helicopter to visit his engineers building the San Carlos cemetery with a bottle of champagne for a corporal whose birthday he’d discovered it was.

David was a soldiers’ general first and foremost. He had under command the 1st Battalion of The Queens Own Highlanders, who had been under his command before in Northern Ireland when their CO, David Blair, was killed at Warrenpoint. As they left the Falkland Islands, their signal to him exemplifies the profound respect and affection that David earned from his soldiers. It read: 'For CBF from All Ranks. Job 10 Verses 12 and 13, Highland Version. Thou hast granted us life and steadfast love, and thy care has preserved our spirit. We know this was thy purpose. [Caber feidh]'  He was awarded a knighthood for his work at the behest of the Prime Minister. As before, it extinguished his CBE. But such awards did not honour David, it was David who honoured the awards.

David’s next appointment was as a Divisional Commander in Germany - one of the Army’s premier commands. At this stage David was en route to the Army Board and had been told so by a number of senior officers. But David had not served in Germany for 17 years, had never cultivated those above and the fresh ideas of this widely experienced general, with public acclaim for his achievements, were not welcomed. At this stage, too, his most dominant personal characteristic, that of uncompromising determination, loved by those below but difficult for those above, began to colour his relationships with those in the high command. It was made clear to him that his face did not fit.

But David was never one to let his personal fortunes take priority.

With his usual dose of bubbling and dynamic enthusiasm, he attended to the training of his Division, focussing on the young, encouraging professionalism, technology and the development of mental and physical robustness through adventure training and sport. He added hashing, cross-country skiing and sailing to his portfolio of sporting activities. His family life with Anne and the children was central to all that he did there and the Villa Strube became a Mecca for the young who enjoyed generous hospitality and friendship there. His Division prospered and David was one of those rare commanders who was known by his name and style throughout. To this day the porcelain Ptarmigan centrepiece sits proudly in Little Lodge as a tribute to his success in trialling the Army’s communications system of the same name, that has been used to such effect in all operations since.

David’s last job in the Army was to be the Director of Infantry. A post that could be influential but that could also be bypassed if the Director was not respected, robust, well informed and organised. He knew, too, that if the infantry was well and efficient the Army prospered – if it was off form the Army suffered. It was, indeed, off form and, not surprisingly, subject to a proposal to change the way it conducted its business. David believed passionately that the change would destroy the Regimental system. He saw more clearly than anyone that the Regimental Spirit of the British Army was the single most powerful factor in fighting spirit that no other Army in the world could match.

Single-handedly, he gripped the infantry by the scruff of its neck. Over two and a half years of hard and determined personal effort he swung the tide of opinion in his favour and won his battle for the soul of the infantry. When he left he was presented with a huge silver salver, subscribed to by all the Infantry Regiments in recognition for what he had achieved – a priceless and unique tribute – for no other Director of Infantry had ever received such an accolade. His immediate superior at the time said at his farewell that he rated David as being the outstanding Director of Infantry since the war and probably of all time.

On leaving the Army at the end of 1988, David became Director General of the Commonwealth Trust, a new charity being formed to administer the two ailing charities - the Royal Commonwealth Trust and the Victoria League for Commonwealth Friendship. In essence his task was to rescue the charities from bankruptcy and reverse the decay in their charitable activities. It became a remorseless nine-year drive to confront and to overcome a constant flow of crises involving people, money and buildings, as demanding as any of the challenges he’d faced in his Army career.

It took 6 years of David’s life - stretched to the limit and often working in the small hours of the morning until late at night - before he was able to enjoy the fruits of success again in the last 3 years of his time at the RCS. He was awarded a CVO for his work. He could not have done it without the genuine comfort of a strong family. Edward had achieved a 1^st Class Honours degree at RMCS, Georgina was reading her degree at Ripon and Laura was prospering at school. Nor could he have done it without the bonds of friendship he forged with those with whom he worked, as Helen will later describe. And he continued to relish the unspoken companionship of his wider family of animals, and Anne's regular reports on their welfare kept his heart in Suffolk and his feet on the ground.

And then finally, working with the Princes Trust for a short while before becoming Vice Chairman of the International Alert NGO – both organisations giving David the opportunity to contribute to yet other forces for good in the nation and the world.

It was not as if during his post-Army life he was doing nothing else either. For five years he was a Deputy Colonel of the Regiment and for the last 12 years of his life was a much-revered President of the Regimental Association. He was also the Chairman of the Trustees of the Royal Norfolk Regimental Museum and President of the Association. This was a particular labour of love for him - for he felt that the Regiment was part of the Thorne lifeblood. His grandfather, his Uncle Gordon, David himself, his brother Mike and his son Edward had all had served with the Regiment. After years of hard work and fund raising, it brought great pleasure to David that the museum was opened in the Shire Hall in Norwich by HM The Queen Mother in 1990.

During this time, too, David was a Non Executive Director of the West Suffolk Hospitals NHS Trust, a trustee for Falklands Conservation, a governor of Langley School, Chairman of the Bury St Edmunds Cathedral Millennium Project, and worked with Coutts Consulting Group.

David’s sporting links continued well past the time that most of us have hung up our several pairs of boots. Having been a key member of Army and combined service teams for cricket and squash throughout his Army career as well as playing for Norfolk, he continued playing both games until he was no longer able to do so and he continued to Hash right up to his death. In 1993 he became the President of the Norfolk County Cricket Club – which was a source of deep satisfaction to him for his grandfather had been President some 46 years previously. He was deeply honoured that he was asked to serve for three years rather than the normal two. He felt able to give back some of the pleasure he had drawn from his early years when he played with such fine cricketers as Bill and John Edrich, Peter Parfitt and Clive Radley. And the club benefited from David’s uproarious laugh and the occasional arrival of the Regimental band to play at the Annual Cricket festival.

As if all this was not enough to keep him busy, David and Anne moved from Stanton to Framlingham with the major building developments that followed, whilst Little lodge was transformed into the lovely family homestead that so many of us know.

Throughout his life, David needed, relished and responded to challenge. He felt that the best and happiest moments in his life came when he was under pressure in a good cause, with just sufficient people with him to give him an outside chance of success. During the many such occasions in his life, he learned that what truly mattered to him was his immediate family, his close friends and those who relied on his judgement and integrity.

We salute a great soldier who held many cards of quality in his hands. Prime amongst them, were his own proven physical and moral courage, his boundless intellectual and physical energy and abilities and his profound understanding of his officers and men. His loyalty to the Army and his Regiment were absolute. To both, in that generation of officers and men touched by him, he left the legacy of a true understanding of the nature of military leadership. He always led from the front, he never spared himself, and he inspired confidence and raised morale wherever he went.

People were one of David’s principal currencies and young people were his affinity. What shone through every facet of his extraordinary life was his ability to imbue everyone with enthusiasm for whatever he did. And he had a natural flair for that special brand of leadership, which brings out the best in people. He was an exhilarating man to be with and had a real zest for life. He always accepted every individual on his own merit. And everyone left David’s presence feeling better for having been in his company. Allied to his personal warmth, his patent integrity and his radiant good cheer earned him the deep affection and respect of all who ever worked with him.

David bore the knowledge of his cancer and his approaching death with extraordinary strength. This was another challenge to be faced with dignity and steadfastness. The key was the comfort of family and friends in Little Lodge. Indeed, it was perhaps the first time that Anne had really had the chance to catch up with David in their 38 years of marriage. He lived life to the full - often on the edge -and was fuelled by a rare octane. He was, quite simply, a unique, special and uncommonly great man; which is why we have gathered here today to join Anne, Edward, Georgina and Laura and give thanks for his life and its memories. He would want this occasion to be a positive and uplifting meeting of his family and friends. We must not let him down.