My Dad Eustace (29 Nov 1921-26 Mar 2013) Lalitha D'Souza lalith...@hotmail.com
Eustace D'Souza was born in Bombay on November 29, 1921, the second son of Edmund and Josephine D'Souza of Velsao, Goa. On March 26, 2013, he passed away peacefully at his home in Bandra only a few months past his 91st birthday, having lived a full and truly amazing life. His family, his beloved regiment the Maratha Light Infantry, his school, college, his friends and associates in all corners of the world celebrate this great man's life and mourn his passing. We saw little of my father when we were young because he was posted out at the front defending the borders of the country. Every one of those days without interruption a blue Armed Forces inland letter would come through the door, addressed to my mother in that characteristically neat, bold hand. I can see it even now, the dark blue ink, the neatly folded paper, landing on the coir doormat in the morning light of those Mhow days. To me, a child at the time, that marked my father as loyal, faithful, steadfast, dependable, loving. My mother would save the reading of those letters to the end of her busy day, sitting out in the garden in a wicker armchair. There is no doubt that she gained strength from those daily letters to carry on managing the family on her own until he returned. When he did come home on leave, he would stride into to our typically humble army accommodation -- tall, stunningly handsome, Brylcreemed, uniform and beret just so, bringing with him all we knew him for in his absence and more. Whatever he did and said during those painfully few weeks reinforced the qualities he managed to convey so strongly in his absence and more. He spoke of his Maratha jawans, his officers, the infantry exercises and operations and the interesting places he had been to and his travels, confirming to us his courage, his intelligence, his no-fuss attitude to life. He absolutely stole his young daughter's heart! I do not know any living person quite like my father. To his end, physically frail with age but clear of mind he remained loyal and dutiful to his own -- sons, daughters, grandchildren, friends, neighbours, other family and regiment, no matter our own iniquities, failures and errors. With his passing I miss him more than I would ever dare to say to him in person: he did not encourage weakness among us, he taught us through words and deeds never to stop, never to give up, always to go on no matter what. He will remain an inspiration to all who knew him for the values that he held faithfully to throughout his life: honour, commitment, courage, honesty. All of his surviving children and his grandchildren, particularly my two sons who grew up in his household, imbibed the values he taught us and stood for all his life. That is one of the legacies he has left behind. After my mother sadly passed away in 1996 he took on enthusiastically the task of writing to us with news and views, and carried that on until he turned 90. Most of us welcomed the monthly newsletter most of the time; some dreaded its arrival in the inbox. His memory was phenomenal! No detail was omitted. These newsletters helped us to keep abreast not only of family news but news from Bombay, the world, the Maratha Regiment, neighbours, friends of his and indeed friends of ours, people we had lost touch with. At the end there were the 'Mentioned in Dispatches': a grandchild's battle with pimples, promotions, job changes, his pulse and blood pressure (always perfect!), and a list of those who had not acknowledged his last dispatch. My father was proud of his Jesuit upbringing, having studied in Jesuit schools in Lahore and Bombay, and then graduating from St Xavier's College, Bombay. He maintained his ties with the Jesuit community throughout his life. It is no surprise then that he asked for his funeral service to be held at his old Jesuit school and the service to be led by his Jesuit friend and spiritual mentor of his late years, Fr. Myron Pereira. In an audio recording of his life entitled 'No Regrets' he describes in some depth how his values and faith were shaped by the Jesuit fathers. When he returned to his native Bombay after retirement they often called on him to speak to groups and in seminars on socially relevant topics that he was greatly interested in and concerned about, such as what was happening in the country or society. He was strong in his faith, a fervent Catholic, and attended Friday and Sunday services wherever he was in this world, and well past his 90th birthday. The lovely lady who took the booking for his Month's Mind Mass at St Anne's Bandra spoke in glowing terms about his exemplary efforts to hear Mass even until the weeks before he passed away when he was barely able to walk. His love and dedication to the Army and his beloved Maratha Regiment is legendary in our family. My mother always accepted that his first love was the Marathas. She never fought this and supported his love for them in her own imitable way, cooking fabulous dishes and feeding everyone who came through the door. He remained in close contact with the officers and men who were his age, and even those who joined after he retired. At his funeral a young army officer described how he was inspired by my father's passion for the regiment. The eighty something year old General D'Souza stood addressing his old 1st Battalion the Maratha Light Infantry introducing this same young man as his 'gift' to his 1st battalion. I don't know who was more touched, the young man or his new family! He was Colonel of the Maratha Light Infantry, their godfather, for many years and -- I do know -- gave up that post reluctantly some years after retirement. Listening to the Army citation read out at his memorial service I had to sit up to hear of some of his travels and achievements for the first time. He was commissioned as an officer in the Army at the age of 22 years and soon after was sent off to fight in World War II -- Italy, Egypt, North Africa. He also saw active service in Japan. On his return to India he rose quickly in the Army, going from one key post to another, he fought in in two wars at India's borders with Pakistan and with China. This bright and intelligent officer rose to the rank of Major General and commanded an Infantry Division up in Kashmir. He ended his army career in 1975 as GOC Delhi area. He was awarded the PVSM by the President of India. I can remember him proudly leading the famous Republic Day Parade from an open jeep way back in the 1970s riding towards India Gate. The only time in my life I ever saw him weep was on his very last day in service, after a long procession from Delhi Area offices to Flag Staff House. Anyhow, my father never really left the army; he remained there in spirit right to the end even as the bugler played the Last Post as his coffin was lowered into the family grave. After retirement when I thought my parents would start winding down, they got a new lease of life. He became even more active. He wrote and published books on military history, and got passionately involved in a multitude of causes -- the environment, the neighbourhood, hockey, peace in Bombay, indeed peace across the world. In a very quiet way he was kind and unreservedly generous with those people who cared for him towards his end. Phyllis, our lovely Goan cook did more for him in his last days than all of his family could do -- cooking, serving and more than that listening to him on those lonely days towards his end. A close family friend wrote a touching letter to us ending with 'He had the same care and respect for the Pope or the peon. That is always the mark of a truly great man.' ### Goanet Reader is compiled and edited by Frederick Noronha.