From lawless warzones laced with landmines to cruising the Med with Dodi and the princes, Diana was always the main attraction
Sun photographer Arthur Edwards looks back at Diana's final few months through his lens and words
YES, at 19 Diana was gorgeous – but at 36 she was stunning.
She did fall in love again, with heart surgeon Hasnat Khan and visited his family in Pakistan Sadly, the relationship didn’t last.
Another thing that didn’t last was her attempt to stay out of the limelight. In January 1997, eight months before she died, we went on another massive trip to Angola.
I’ve never been so scared in my life as I was in that lawless African country and I have been in a couple of war zones.
Diana was there to campaign against the use of landmines in war.
Wearing just slacks and a white shirt with a red cross, she visited a little girl lying in hospital who been blown up by a landmine.
Diana was close to tears.
This poor youngster was exposed below the waist and before I took the picture Diana said: “Just hold on a minute.” She lovingly covered her up and made her look decent.
Holding the girl’s bandaged arm, a clearly moved Diana listened intently as the doctor explained what had happened to the child.
Then half an hour later we went to a supposed minefield where she donned safety kit.
I remember as she was putting on the helmet, Diana was giggling like a schoolgirl because she knew there were no landmines where she was going to be walking through.
But the pictures we took that day had a massive effect in publicising the damage these evil weapons can do.
That last summer she spent much of the time hopping around the Mediterranean, even taking William and Harry on holiday to the South of France, as a guest of Harrod’s owner Mohamed Al Fayed. At the time we didn’t know she was seeing his son Dodi
The British press hired a boat and moored off the Fayeds’ luxury villa.
It was a circus and Diana was the main attraction. There were boats jam-packed with photographers from all over the world.
It was a circus and Diana was the main attraction. There were boats jam-packed with photographers from all over the world.
William was swimming and Harry was whizzing around on his jet ski.
Suddenly, Diana came over in a small dinghy, asked how long we were going to be and pleaded with us to give William and Harry some space.
Tearfully, she told us William was upset and he didn’t want her to have to live abroad to escape the media attention.
I said I’d ring the editor and get us pulled out if that’s what she wanted.
As our boat backed off, I said to her: “Don’t let it get you down. I’ll speak to my editor and pull out.”
But she said: “I don’t want that. It’s fine.”
And then she did an amazing thing. She went back to the jetty and wearing a one-piece bathing suit did a perfect dive into the Med.
Diana swam around for a bit then got out and she swam across to Harry on his jet ski. She got on the back, put on her life-jacket and then roared round our boat — not the Italian boat or the French boat but our boat.
I have still not worked out quite what went on that day because she came over to the boat appealing for some sort of peace, quiet and sanity to return to her life and then provided us with the most amazing set of pictures.
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Every weekend that summer she was going somewhere, flitting around the Med but I couldn’t go because I was exhausted.
She was having fun with Dodi but I didn’t think it would last. He had his private plane, he was filthy rich and obviously she loved that. But I don’t think she was happy and I saw that.
One minute she was down and the next minute she was up. She just was not settled.
My luckiest picture ever
CHARLES, Diana and the boys were on a yacht in Majorca. One day we took a boat out and came across them.
Diana was stood in a gorgeous red bikini and picked up an apple.
But camera equipment was not so good in those days. I had a long 800mm lens and the boats were rocking up and down in the swell.
I took just two frames.
When the film was developed, the first cut off her body. Then I saw this one – probably the luckiest picture I have ever taken in my life. I’ve never been so delighted.
I was driving home with my wife, Ann, from a wedding in Kent at one o’clock in the morning when the phone went in the car.
My son John, The Sun’s deputy picture editor, said: “Dad, Diana has had an accident in Paris.
“We don’t think it is too serious but can you get to France first thing in the morning.”
I turned the radio on to hear Dodi was receiving treatment beside the car and he could already be dead.
Just before two o’clock the phone rang again. John said: “The office have chartered a plane out of Heathrow at three o’clock. Get there now.”
As we landed at Le Bourget, a private airfield in Paris, the phone rang again.
Diana was dead. I told the other passengers on the little plane. Everyone was in total shock to hear this terrible news.
I went to the Pitié-Salpêtrière Hospital where Diana had been taken. I was told to go to a side entrance of the hospital at 4.30 in the afternoon.
I then managed to speak to Diana’s chauffeur who was inside. He said: “President Chirac has just been in to see her.”
Then Diana’s butler, Paul Burrell came on the line.
“Oh Arthur,” he said. “We have just lost the captain of our ship.”
Where do you want me Arthur?
Unexpectedly, Diana went on a tour of Egypt on her own.
At a reception in the British Ambassador’s residence on the banks of the Nile, I asked her: “Are you going to the polo this year?”
She replied: “I hate the game. William and Harry hate the game and I’m not going to go again. It takes up too much valuable family time.”
The following month she turned up at the first polo game of the season.
She was telling me one thing then doing another. I figured there was some sort of a problem.
Rumours began circulating about Diana having boyfriends — James Gilbey then antiques dealer Oliver Hoare.
James Hewitt was the love of her life, I think. He even took her to spend a weekend with his mother at her cottage in Devon.
But when we went to Brazil in 1991 Prince Charles and Diana seemed so happy together. Charles even called her darling and I thought it can’t be like that.
After photographing the State Opening of Parliament in June 1991 I met someone who worked for the Princess.
He said: “Arthur, it’s all about Camilla. Look no further. She’s the one.”
It shook me.
The following February, Charles and Diana went to India and he played a polo match in Jaipur.
It was 38C (100F) and the press were jammed in so tightly together that if you did not have your camera up to your eye you could not move to take a picture.
Whenever Diana was presenting a prize to the Prince at polo, they would kiss each other on the lips.
But this was the day of the kiss that missed. He went to kiss her but she deliberately turned her head away. It was the first sign to me that the marriage was over.
Also during that visit we went to Agra but before she went to the Taj Mahal she visited the Red Fort.
All the other media rushed to get a spot in front of the Taj Mahal except me.
I remember climbing up to the roof of the Red Fort with Diana.
She saw me and asked: “Where do you want me, Arthur?” I thought it would make a really nice picture with the Taj Mahal out in the distance.
James Hewitt was the love of her life, I think. He even took her to spend a weekend with his mother at her cottage in Devon
I love that picture. She smiled and looked so happy. I grabbed a cab to quickly get to the Taj Mahal.
But when I got there she looked unhappy. I couldn’t get over the change in her in just a matter of minutes.
Now she was sitting very pensive and all alone on that seat in front of the iconic Taj Mahal, built in the 17th century by a Mughal emperor in tribute to his wife.
Diana was obviously feeling the pain of a marriage that was coming to an end.
That was the image she intended us to see. Later that year, we went to South Korea, the last tour the royal couple would do together.
It was so utterly miserable it became known as the “Glums Tour”.
They just could not stand the sight of each other.
The spark had gone.
On Diana’s solo visit to Paris in November 1992, I suddenly got a call from an aide, who said: “The Princess would like to see you.”
When I arrived at the Ambassador’s residence Diana was sat at the piano playing a duet with her sister, Sarah.
She was so happy.
“Do you like my barnet, Arthur?”
Then she looked at her shoes and playfully asked: “Do you like my tart’s trotters?”
Then out of the blue she said something very strange: “Are you coming to Nepal with me, Arthur?”
No one knew anything about the Princess’s forthcoming visit to Nepal.
I stuttered: ‘Yes, Ma’am, of course. Is the Prince going?
“No,” she said, “he is not. It’s time for me to spread my wings.”
She was telling me the marriage was as good as over and just a month later Prime Minister John Major announced to the House of Commons that Charles and Diana were separating.
The Prince’s staff and friends were so loyal to him that they could not speak her name — their nickname for Diana was Doris.
But after the separation the Prince wrote to all his friends and told them: “I do not want any of you to say anything disparaging about my wife.
“If you do that you will lose my friendship for ever.”
But Diana was so angry and hurt.
Feeling she’d been rejected she then did two things which, looking back, I think she probably regretted.
First she poured her heart out in a book with Andrew Morton. At the time she said she hadn’t but I knew she had.
And the reason I knew was because the pictures in the book had not been seen before. They came straight out of the Spencer family album.
Then came the infamous Martin Bashir interview which was probably the most riveting television I have ever seen.
I remember watching it in The Sun offices and every time she spoke she confirmed, one after another, that our stories about her were true.
She looked so unhappy as she talked about three people in this marriage.
And then Diana said she didn’t think Charles would be King, which I thought was pretty disloyal.
In my view he is a fine person and is a great man but when marriages break up it is often acrimonious.
She didn’t even tell her press officer at the Palace about the Bashir interview. He resigned the next day.
There was a generous divorce settlement worth millions.
Camilla was a married woman but Charles was obviously smitten by her.
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'THE DIANA I KNEW': READ MORE FROM SUN ROYAL PHOTOGRAPHER ARTHUR EDWARDS
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