Paul “Kiwi” Campion

Today I am saying goodbye to one of my oldest and dearest friends. For nearly 50 years, from Rhodesia to present day, he has been my friend and a constant presence in my life. He was a great friend to Boo Boo, Godfather to our eldest son Ryan and when Shaun and Paula arrived in the UK, he took them in and gave them a job and a roof over their heads. For Robyn he has been a rock and her champion. I can't quite imagine my life without him in it - also without the nonsense and chaos that only Paul could cause! I will miss his great shout of laughter and I will cherish our friendship forever Paul. Go and ride your bike up in the sky - sunrise to sunset.

Paul was a truly wonderful man who played a significant role in our lives. When we arrived in the UK in 2003, he gave us our very first opportunity, offering us work at the Birdcage and Rising Sun pubs in Thame, along with a place to stay. His kindness and generosity meant so much to us. He loved riding and going on trips, embracing life with a sense of adventure. He was a special part of our family, and he will be deeply missed.

May the road rise gently to meet you, Paul.

I remember Paul well. We were mates at Devonport School.we were in a little gang of kids, John Prentice, Joe Brown, Alan Ayres, the ferryman boys, Dennis Rowbotham Martin Wynyard, Roger Jarrett, and others.
1960 was a great year for kids then jumping off Devonport Wharf, sneaking into the Pictures, stealing fruit from peoples properties, nothing illegal , just naughty. Paul used to take us to the Peter Pan and his mum would give us free cream doughnuts. We loved going there. I remember going upstairs above the shop and using the grandmothers bed as a trampoline. Paul was a great and honest friend, sadly we lost touch and I often wondered what happened to him. Now I know. RIP Paul my dear friend.

Tomorrow we say our final farewells to 'Grumps' Paul Campion. He has been the most flakey reliable step-dad figure in my life since I was 18 years old and I shall miss his huge presence.
Despite never wanting to fully commit to anything, whether it be a Sunday lunch invitation or an airport drop-off favour, he never once failed to be there for me when it mattered most.
We had a beautiful understanding of each other in how we often both struggled with the ways of the world and I couldn't be more grateful for the unconditional love and support he relentlessly gave me and gave Mum too.
I'm already missing his "Good morning sweetheart" messages that he would send, full of positive affirmations even when I knew how much he was suffering. Don't get me wrong, he'd be sure to call later and spend 20 minutes telling me all about whatever new ailment or 'label' he'd discovered he had too!
He was Grumps to Finn and Molly, ever-present and inspirational. Though we've been reflecting back wondering why he was called Grumps because he actually wasn't grumpy.
His stories of his military years and indeed all his colourful life experience anecdotes never failed to leave us jaw-dropped.
What a unique, interesting, artistic, loyal and adventurous man he was. No beating around the bush, he wasn't everyone's cup of tea but he was ours. Our Paul. Our Grumps. Our family. Ride forever free without pain. xxx

Will miss you, Grumps!
R.I.P.

5 La Barre
Chalais
France


A few years ago Paul and I were serving in the Rhodesian SAS. One day we had to jump ( parachute) into a terrorist base in Mozambique. The base was empty, but another active one had been found and we were moved there by helicopter. On the way the choppers came under fire from a hill top and had to take evasive action. This led to the following misunderstanding. We stayed the night at the base of a hill and at first light moved in a sweep line to the top and waited for air cover. I was on the very right of the sweep line, with my back to a tree, thinking there must be an easier way to make a living. Paul was on the other end. Not long after two Hawker Hunters of the Rhodesian Air force arrived on our right, they then flew in front of us and then to the back of us. A short while later I heard the sound of a jet engine getting closer, I looked to my left and just got a glimpse of a bomb just before it detonated. ( Rhodesian 450kg Golf bomb with a kind of stick in the front of it) Even where I was, the shrapnel was tingling through the trees. Paul and a comrade were not so lucky, our comrade later died from his wounds and Paul getting a large chuck out of the back of his leg.
Sometime later I was in our Barracks, called Kabrit, after the first SAS barracks in Egypt during WW2.
Paul was still semi mobile and he roped me in to take him to Cranborne barracks medical clinic ( I couldn't say no, as he was my sergeant) On getting there Paul had to lie on his stomach, so I had a birds eye view of the whole show. The back of his leg looked like a piece of beef tied up and ready for a Sunday roast. Inside was a perforated tube with a suction bag to take out any puss. This was then removed...not a pretty sight. I said to Kiwi that he was lucky he couldn't see the whole performance.
Paul served two tours during the Vietnam war with the NZ Army artillery. I think he was a forward observer. He was wounded of both occasions. The one time when he was in an armoured personnel carrier which hit a land mine ( probably boosted). Paul flew through the air and landed at the bottom of a water filled crater. He later told me that the only reason they found him was that they saw his blond hair floating on the top of the water.
Paul suffered from PTSD right from his first tour of Vietnam and more or less for the rest of his life. Not an easy thing to handle. Over the years he used to visit me on my farm in France. He would just jump on his bike and ride over. He would stay one or two nights and ride back. We didn't talk much about the war, but there is always something special about two old comrades being together.

Paul, I’m sorry I cannot make the service, but my thought and prayers will be with you.

RIP Buddy, I will miss you.

We didn’t always see eye to eye but I loved how fiercely you loved Mum & for that, I will always be truly grateful. The partnership that the two of you had was beautiful, if not a little frustrating, but the loyalty that you shared and the love you had for one another was irrefutable. You will be missed, never more so than at Birthdays and Christmases. The biscuit barrel will be a little fuller from now on but our hearts will be a little more empty. We will fight the battles for Mum that you fought so passionately. God speed and ride free 🏍️

Paul, Alison and Robyn

Farewell daddy, you taught me so much and we’ve had so many good times together. You are our chosen family in the most unexpected way. We will miss you forever. ❤️

Met Paul on the ROC Ireland trip. Great chats, full blown character and none of us will forget the trike greenlaning with pillion in tow. Rip, from Smiler

Kiwi and I crossed paths in the 70's in C Sqn Rhodesia. Here is one photo from 2nd September 2002 with some Rhodi old and bold at Jock Hutton's funeral.

I knew Paul for years, firstly as the Birdy Landord, then as a biker. I bought his 1973 HD Heritage from him and spent many years riding it. I saw him often over the years at various places, the last time at the 2023 RTTW where he was proudly the only Vietnam vet there. RIP Paul, dry roads.

I was in the bike group Rider of Charity with Paul and this is what I remember about him.
Certainly took no shit and definitely told you straight how it was, that’s 1 thing I liked about Paul, plus that can am spider trike was a beast that he had, tearing up the green lanes we did.
You will be missed Biker Brother Paul.
AKA Too cool Ralston.

Paul was the very definition of ''LIFE'' ... and I for one already really miss him.
R.I.P. Paul ...
David (or ''Big Dave'', as he often called me).