One recent weekend afternoon our reporters rang the doorbell at Premier Hau Pei-tsun's residence in suburban Shihlin for a prearranged photo call.

Due to a delay at a Legislative Yuan session Premier Hau was unable to make it back in time for our appointment. But his absence gave us the perfect opportunity to look around for ourselves.

The garden was very nice with a medium lawn surrounded by tall banyan trees, palm trees and willows. In one corner stood a white swing, no doubt regularly used by Premier Hau's grandchildren. What a pretty picture it would make to see the premier himself pushing them on the swing! Little chance of that in this rain, though.

The reception room was laid out rather formally, with a suite of Ming-style rosewood furniture with red damask cushions. An ink painting of lotuses by Chang Ta-chien hung discreetly on one wall. In another corner, mounted as a souvenir, stood an artillery shell from the Kinmen Bombardment of August 23, 1957, a hint of the owner's glorious military past.

Due to her husband's unavoidable absence, Premier Hau's wife Kuo Wan- hua came out especially to greet everyone and offer her apologies. In fact we were very glad she did appear because we all very much wanted to ask her about Premier Hau's relatively unknown private family life.

"At first my idea of a military man was probably much like your view today, but after getting to know him better I discovered I was quite wrong." Madame Hau had just sat down, and despite her soft speech and warm smile, betrayed a hint of nervousness as she faced the unaccustomed sight of cameras flashing busily away. She recovered her composure as she talked about why she chose to marry a military officer. "There's a lot to him, and he's really very kindhearted."

Madame Hau was orphaned young and lived with her grandmother and uncles in a large family. Premier Hau's parents also died early, so once they had met he channelled his affection for his lost parents into respect for Miss Kuo's family. Three years later he gained the support of all six of her uncles for their marriage.

Only the grandmother expressed reservations. She had reared this granddaughter with her own hands and had never let her out of her sight. How could she follow a roving military man when they might never see her again?

In order to calm the grandmother's fears, Premier Hau played down his military ambitions and acted the dutiful son by applying for transfer to the staff of Ku Chu-t'ung. The marriage then took place.

Not that Premier Hau stayed behind a desk for long. With the government's withdrawal to Taiwan he served on the Strategic Advisory Commission, went to America for training, and upon returning to Taiwan took up an army posting again. This was the making of Hau Pei-tsun, whose fame was born with the 1957 Kinmen Bombardment.

Everyone in the armed forces, from top brass to private soldier, holds Hau Pei-tsun in awe for his military prowess. What is he like with the children at home?

"Oh, he's not at all fierce," laughs Madame Hau with a shake of the head. "You'll never believe it, but he's fonder of children than I am!"

Once their eldest child was born, "it was always he who picked him up and comforted him" when he cried at night. Madame Hau recalls vividly, "it was mid-December, and all he was wearing was his cotton long-johns!"

In the Hau family it was a case of a kindly father and a strict mother. Premier Hau and his wife liked going to the cinema, and when the children were small they went along too.

"I would warn the children before-hand that we were going to see a film, and they weren't allowed to have drinks or go to the toilet." Madame Hau chuckles as she explains that once inside the cinema the children got up to all kinds of tricks, especially at the best moments in the film.

"When daddy went along, they could have anything; he would alway-buy them soft drinks or take them to the toilet." Madame Hau shakes her head, "so our littlest one would never have to walk when daddy was there."

That little girl who always wanted daddy to carry her is now a grown woman with children of her own. A simple phone call and the two daughters, both living in Taipei, will come over with their children for a visit to grandpa and grandma.

Of the four Hau grandchildren, only one is a boy. He likes playing with airplanes and used to wear a smart pilot's outfit which he clung on to long after it great too small for him. His parents have had to make him another military outfit, this time a sailor suit, so he can play at each service in turn.

Stepping from military service into civilian shoes was a big change for the Hau household. A family conference was held on his taking up the premiership. "None of us approved," says Madame Hau. "I didn't approve of his becoming defense minister either. He has always been a soldier, and everyone respected him in the army. But look how they question and berate him in the Legislative Yuan. It's hard to take."

But once Premier Hau had said "the country needs me now," Madame Hau put her reservations to one side and threw herself into helping him in his new life.

"Will you move house with this new appointment?"

"No," laughs Madame Hau as she looks round the house they have lived in for the past 20 years. "We're used to it here. And why move when we have no idea how long his new job will last?!"

[Picture Caption]

The Hau grandchildren are blissfully unaware of Grandad's fearsome reputation in the outside world.

After 40 years of marriage, Madame Hau is accompanying her husband into a new phase of life.

After 40 years of marriage, Madame Hau is accompanying her husband into a new phase of life.