Heroes of Strathkerbet (pdf – 17.5MB) - Get a Free Blog

A Sergeant’s Voice
Now a Sergeant’s voice is a thing that’s renowned
It shatters the air and makes holes in the ground;
He opens his mouth, gives vent to a roar,
Down crash the houses from ceiling to floor.
To hear that brave voice engaged at its best
Is to find for its efforts a really good test;
Artillery, massed bands, with thunder thrown in,
Would have a hard task if they wanted to win.
One day our battery broke down on the way,
As the Huns were advancing to engage in the fray;
But our Sergeants were ready, each roared at those Huns;
They fell down in thousands, as though swept by guns.
The Huns that were captured will ne’er hear again,
Their nerves were all shattered, they wish they’d been slain;
They tremble each time they think of that roar;
They say it killed thousands, and paralysed more.
Nothing on earth can compare with that voice,
It’s a gift, or affliction, according to choice;
So if to three stripes your ambition should soar,
Remember it’s useless unless you can roar.
Composed by Corporal Milligan (6th. Dorsets).
On Sunday night there was a mighty stir around Forfar Railway Station. Above the sound of the howling wind
could be heard the skirl of bagpipes, a chorus of excited voices and the tramp of a company of men. On to the
platform there confidently strode soldiers and officers about to board a train taking them on their first journey
towards the War. Music and dancing, hand shakes and kisses – this send off was a last salute to their parting
heroes who were off to an unknown world; a world where these lads from the Braes of Angus, before their return,
were to experience untold danger as they passed through the valley of the shadow of death.
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