Princess Elizabeth - our future Queen - was the King’s pride.

George VI had apparently decided he wanted staff chosen for their fighting record rather than family or regimental connections.Īfter my introduction, down the corridor came two adorable-looking girls Princess Elizabeth, then 17, and her sister Margaret, 14. I had no connection with the Royal Family. I was born in Burma, where my father was a Commissioner, and educated at Haileybury, before joining the RAF. I first set eyes on the Princess on February 16, 1944, when I found myself in the green-carpeted Regency Room at Buckingham Palace.Ī few days earlier, I had been summoned by the RAF’s Chief of Staff and told I was to be redeployed, as an equerry to the King. Unmitigated joy turned - for both of us - into a trial by ordeal. Then she simply said: ‘That is exactly how I feel, too'īut by falling in love, we were to go up against the Establishment and face an international furore. She listened, without uttering a word, as I told her, very quietly, of my feelings. One afternoon we talked, in the red drawing room at Windsor Castle, for hours - about ourselves. Princess Margaret and I found solace in one another’s company. That, incredibly, was the lot that destiny had reserved for me. Her beauty and charm had attracted scores of admiring, faithful friends, yet among none of them had she found the man of her choice. There was already speculation about the man she might fall in love with. That summer of 1951, Princess Margaret was about to celebrate her 21st birthday. Then she took his arm and walked him away, leaving me to my dreams. I whispered: ‘You know your father is watching us?’ At which she laughed, straightened up and went to his side. I opened the other eye, and saw, behind her, the King, leaning on his stick, with a look, typical of him: kind, half-amused. I opened one eye - to see Princess Margaret’s lovely face, very close, looking into mine. Vaguely, I was aware that someone was covering me with a coat. One warm summer afternoon at Balmoral, after a picnic lunch with the guns, I stretched out in the heather to doze. Almost 30 years after its end in 1955, the Battle of Britain hero eventually wrote a book telling his side of the affair that rocked the Royal Family and the British Establishment. The romance between Princess Margaret and Group Captain Peter Townsend has been described as ‘the most tragic royal love story ever’.

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