David Vansittart
November 29, 1931 — March 15, 2013
David Arthur Nicholas Vansittart was born on 29th November 1931 into a very different world from the one that we inhabit now. His parents, Peter Vansittart, a World War One veteran and Doreen, a former ballerina, were independently wealthy and lived a privileged life of grace and ease in London tended to by numerous servants and staff. David, like many from similar backgrounds, was essentially brought up by his nanny, Nanny Day, who would present David to his parents at 5 o'clock every afternoon for him to give a recital of whatever was considered appropriate; the alphabet, the times tables, an improving poem. After which David's mother would request Nanny to remove David and back to the nursery he would go, parental contact done for the day. A lot of David's character could be traced back to this moneyed but somewhat stark upbringing. Inevitably David was sent to boarding school at an early age. Highfield School, Liphook, Hampshire was a classic of its kind. Cold baths, long runs in the winter country-side, beatings from a Headmaster who was also a Church of England vicar. But David, drawing on the reserves of character that grew in him from an early age, flourished ending up as both Head of School and Victor Ludorum. In 1945 he went on to Charterhouse, one of the great "public" (PRIVATE SCHOOL) schools of England. In many ways Charterhouse provided the happiest days of David's youth and childhood. With his athletic figure and gold-blond hair David cut a considerable dash on the soccer field and hockey and cricket pitches. He was Captain of Hockey and played 1st Eleven soccer for the school and often delighted in regaling others with tales of how he "nodded it in against Shrewsbury" (scored a goal against Shrewsbury School) whilst some attractive young lady he was wooing looked on. He was Head of Corps and as such began his lifelong passion for the Army. It was also at Charterhouse that David developed his fondness for good clothes. His vivid waist-coats and suede shoes became legendary at the school. David also did well academically and was considered for Oxford University until the Army lured him away. He was also in line to be Head of School, until, that is, his House-master caught him smoking in his study-bedroom. As a result, and despite this transgression, David still became Deputy Head of School. The 1950s in England were an austere period, still very much post-war. National Service was in operation and David, like other young men, was going to be called up. But being called-up was not really David's style. He volunteered instead and joined up as an officer cadet training at the Royal Military Academy, Sandhurst in the summer of 1950. Not surprisingly he did well and at his Passing Out parade he was a Junior Under Officer. There were a number of regiments that David could have entered but with his speed and athleticism the Light Infantry was an obvious choice. He was commissioned as a 2nd Lieutenant into the 43rd and 52nd Oxfordshire and Buckinghamshire Light Infantry one of the crack Greenjacket regiments of the British Army. He served in Suez and West Germany as well as in the United Kingdom and the fund of stories he had to tell of his time serving the Colours was testament to how important and enjoyable this period of his life was to him. Many, many years later, after a long campaign for recognition of what the troops went through in Suez, the British Government finally ordered that a Suez Campaign medal be struck for those who had served there. David, with pleasure, and a certain sense of irony, received his medal, through the post, some fifty or so years after finishing his Suez service. Having spent nine years in the Army, David, now a captain (Training Major 4th BN TA) resigned his commission and became a poultry farmer in the South-Eastern county of Surrey in England. With his then wife, Betsy, he moved into an old, cold but beautiful Tudor farmhouse called Great Garsons surrounded by fields and streams, nestling at the foot of the Surrey Hills. This idyllic setting was to be his home for the next five years until warmer climes called and he and Betsy and their young son, Rupert, emigrated to the then little known country of Portugal. This began a huge and transformative period of David's life that ultimately culminated in his move to America with all that followed. Initially David went to the seaside resort of Cascais, a few miles North of Lisbon. Here he opened the Bull Dog, the first English pub in Portugal where David was in his element dispensing drinks and bonhomie to the many and eager customers. However life running a pub soon palled for the former infantry officer and he looked for pastures new. An old school friend from Charterhouse was involved in developing a golf course in the then very undeveloped Algarve province of Southern Portugal. The golf course, Vale do Lobo, needed a manager. There was no one in Portugal more suited to the job than David and for ten happy and productive years he ran Vale do Lobo, almost like his own personal fiefdom, turning the development into one of the most sought after leisure venues in Western Europe. However, in 1974, Portugal had a revolution and, virtually over-night, the tourist industry came to a halt. Vale do Lobo went into receivership and David needed a job. This came in the form of the managership of the Creek Club, Locust Valley, Long Island, NY and in April 1977 David, by now divorced and with his son making his own way in England, set off on his great American adventure. David ran the Creek Club for three interesting, if challenging, years during which, as he put it, he learnt what the word Wasp meant. With some relief he moved to Florida to take over the running of the Turnberry Isle Country Club in North Miami. But this appointment was far more than just the managing of a country club for it was here that David met, and married, his wife of over thirty years, Joann. Together David and Joann moved from Turnberry Isle to the Mariner Sands Country Club near Palm Beach before deciding that it was time to make the great trek West. Like many before them they moved to California where David managed La Quinta Country Club in the Desert. They then moved on to the new and hugely opulent Sherwood Country Club in Hidden Hills, Ca. where your fellow lunch guests were as likely to be President and Mrs Reagan or Tom Selleck as any tired out old golfer who'd just broken 100 on the sprawling championship golf course outside. David's final job was the managership of North Ranch Country Club in Thousand Oaks from where he retired in April 1996. David and Joann remained in California until 2003 when they decided to move nearer Joann's family in Texas. In April of that year they moved into Marietta Lane in Schertz, suburb of San Antonio, where they were able to give family and friends that phenomenal and generous hospitality for which they are both renowned. It was especially nice for David to take on the role of step-father to Joann's sons, Matthew and Kevin to whom he became very close and to be a superb grand-father to their children, Zachary, Abbagail, Coleton, Lexi and Ava as well as being a friend and counselor to Matthew and Kevin's wives, Carrie and Jill. A memorial service will be held on Saturday, March 23, 2013 2:00pm, at the Schertz Funeral Home Chapel.
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