I have known Neal since we were at secondary school (Hardye’s) in Dorchester, Dorset when it became a comprehensive school.  I came from the “farmers” school, Puddletown.
 
Neal was the cleverest person I know. And yet he could quite easily reduce his intellectual capital down to my juvenile level to entertain me, and he did that in bucket loads.

Although sharp minded across virtually any subject one would care to raise as a topic, he particularly shone when it came to boats, ships, cricket, rugby, ordnance of various kinds but especially (to the concern of many) domestic (firework) rockets, salt and pepper squid, cider and, decent sauvignon blanc. A true renaissance man.

He loved music but there our paths generally parted ways and whilst Steel Panthers is fondly remembered, they still won't make my playlist I’m afraid N.

Entering Neal's Fantasy La La Land online kept the World spinning and some days it was difficult to type responses from the tears of laughter as we jousted for the most ridiculous imaginary memories of places we'd never been and people we'd never met.

One hears the phrase "naturally gifted / intelligent" thrown around a lot but I can say that Neal worked hard for his intelligence. When fellow "Clan" members were using their "free lesson" time to plan parties, Neal would be sitting at the back of the unused classroom (see photo below) to steadily work his way through his class work. He'd occasionally take a pickled onion monster munch “acquired” from the tuck shop and throw a comment into the conversation but the academic mind was always ticking over.  That brain was always ticking over.

And that followed into Neal's Work - you knew this was serious stuff. Rarely talked about, certainly not in detail. Both in and out of work he was good at distilling data into information; very good. Attention to detail with a focus on the key elements was a given.  I would occasionally ask a general management level question and get a rather general answer back (comparisons?  “Use Pairwise Dear Boy”.  End of conversation) but when advice was sought, useful stuff came back.

His love for Anna was all consuming.  The way they interacted was a joy to watch.  Two determined people, meticulously planning their lives together.  Even so, differences of approach could exist and that could be eventful, particularly when Neal overstepped his “authority”.  His knowledge of armaments from WW2 onwards appeared unlimited but even Neal knew that when deployed from Anna's hand, "The Spoon" was the most effective weapon NATO don’t have in their arsenal and was certainly enough to calm him down.

Most will know that Neal loved cricket. He spoke enthusiastically about his games with the beloved RAMS and he was proud to be on their team and of his stats. He was equally as enthusiastic about Somerset though possibly not so proud of their abilities. One of the last communications I had with him was when he, brother (Stuart) and dad (Alan) were at Edgbaston to watch Somerset progress further in the Cup than Neal expected. I also happened to be in Edgbaston but not at the cricket so he was relaying the ebb and flow of the matches with an occasional expectation of imminent disaster at the crease.

Rugby, particularly Bath RFC in previous years was a source of constant consternation to him but he did at least get to witness an almost perfect season last year. The agony he would regularly express on Barf's shortcomings and particularly their management / coaching over recent years was calmed only by the knowledge they would never be as bad as my (now disbanded) team, Worcester, which he regularly reminded me of.

Looking at the photos Anna has posted online, his love for the coastline, especially that of "The Shire" (Dorset) but particularly being there with Anna shines through. If there was a navy ship in sight plying the waves all the better. He would love to make fun of my appalling command of the French language by using a favourite marine based statement exclaiming "Mr G! a l'eau c'est l'heure!"

It is difficult to imagine the pain that Anna and Neal's family are feeling. The postings recently made are I hope a source of comfort; of the warmth and love that so many felt for Neal and now express that to his family.

I find it practically impossible to accept he is physically gone. We were in communication virtually every day. His voice is in my brain; when I write something in our whatsapp group I expect to see (sometimes with trepidation) "Neal is typing". Few could match the speed of response that was Neal. The voice will be there for ever but the typing no more.
 
Lawson N, 57 Retired.  Very much missed.