They had some unusual customs – none of them were allowed to own land, and they worked the land on a three year rota – two years farming, then a year at war. The whole family went to war, so this was the last time they would see this particular piece of land, another family would move on to it when they departed. Wives and children went in the waggons. If the men retreated from a battle, their wives would be waiting for them. Standing on the shafts of the waggons, they would cut their husband’s throats, hang their children from their plaits, then kill themselves. A tough lot.

They wore few clothes, and in battle went naked, which for some reason terrified the Romans who often refused to fight them. Caesar has a wonderful account of the naked Suevi sliding down the snow-covered Alps, using their shields as sledges, uttering blood-curdling cries. The Romans turned and ran.

The French suffered more from the Romans than the Germans, and in a tight spot would often send to German tribes to come and help them, but avoided asking the Suevi, as they would take one look around, decide to stay and turf the French out.

This warlike and uncompromising attitude was at the heart of Wolfram’s character. On the other hand he could be the tenderest and most loving of men. But compliments? Forget it! He would not dress anything up, and called a spade a spade.

Our early sex life was a farce. Wolfram liked to sleep naked, even in winter, preferably with the windows open, and covered only with a sheet. If snow drifted through the window, so much the better! I lilked to huddle beneath a mountain of blankets, in thick pyjamas, with several hot water bottles. Sex therefore became a tug of war, with Wolfram trying to pull me out into the cold, and me trying to drag him into the warm.

Wolfram had a thing about knickers – he thought they should be sweet and sexy – I preferred something warm. One of the first things he did was examine my knicker drawer and recommend improvements. One pair in particular puzzled him, they were covered in green paint. The answer was simple – someone, picking them up off the floor, thought this was an old cloth, and used it to hold the pot of paint they were using. Frugal to the last, I am a Yorkshirewoman after all, I saw no reason to stop wearing them. What’s a bit of paint between friends?

Wolfram had a good joke about Yorkshirewomen – he said they didn’t so much have a menopause as a mean-o-pause.

Wolfram was born in a little village called Ringsheim, on the borders of the Black Forest. He spent most of his childhood with his grandpa, as his parents both worked, and the whole family lived together. It was from his grandfather, Anton Weber, that Wolfram got his deep love of nature, of gardening, and of animals. He told me when he was little his family kept a dog which was crossed with a Wolf. Whenever our Wolf had been naughty, he would creep into the kennel behind the wolfdog, and stay there until the anger died down. The dog would let no one near him.

Punishment, if caught, was severe. Wolfram told me his mother had broken several wooden spoons over his backside when he was little. But he was proud of the fact that it never made him mend his ways. To the end he refused to compromise. He had a great sense of honour and duty.

At eight his sight had deteriorated so far that he had to attend a school for handicapped students, many miles from his village home. He suffered from bullying because of his regional accent, "Black Forest boy" – but being Wolfram he did not bow down under this treatment. Making a vow to beat the biggest bully within two years, he used his pocket money to pay for martial arts lessons, and achieved his target.

He was full of stories about his escapades, and no doubt you have heard some of them. He was full of adventure and fun, and loved a challenge. Perhaps that is why our marriage lasted so long – we were a challenge to each other. Even after our breakup three years ago we were a comfort and support to each other, always at the end of a phone. He would help anyone in need, always had time to listen, and a deep store of wisdom.

We shared a love of gardening, cycling, walking and dogs. His greatest achievement was when we cycled to Germany and back in the summer of 1995. He always insisted on riding his own bike, though his sight problem made this difficult. All attempts to get him on a tandem failed, I was still pushing for it while he was in Ireland. He always said he would not put his life in the hands of a lunatic – ie me!

His mother and sister in Germany would have been here, but his mother has been prostrated by her loss and cannot travel. His many friends in England are shocked and devastated, and many would have been here but for the short notice we had of this tragic event. You all I know are showing your sympathy by being here today and making this remembrance possible. As for me, I loved you to the end, Wolfram, and still do.  As we always said, "Call me, and I will come, even though it be to the ends of the earth."