Journal 2008 - The Journal Royal Highland Fusiliers - The Royal ...

various regimental and staff appointments in Aden, Malta, Iserlohn,Borneo, Singapore, Northern Ireland, Scotland and England.At the end of his career on the Active List Donald held twoGeneral Service Medals. One medal has the clasps “Malaya”,“Cyprus” and “Arabian Peninsula”. The other medal has theclasps “Borneo” and “Northern Ireland”. In modern currency thiscould amount to at least three or four separate campaign medals.He also held a United Nations (Cyprus) medal.Donald was an outstanding military historian with anencyclopaedic knowledge of regimental dress, customs and music.He was also a gifted artist and cartoonist. Many of us will havefond memories of him drawing caricatures on menu cards, beermats or sketch books. Much of his work is preserved today inour regimental archives. Above all, he conveyed the image of thearchetypical regimental officer who lived for his regiment and allthat it stood for. As many of his cartoons imply, he did not alwaysapprove of some of the post-war Army reorganisations.After his retirement Donald became the Assistant RegimentalSecretary at Regimental Headquarters. Unfortunately, his careerwas cut short when he suffered a series of strokes. In his latterdays he was a resident at the Erskine Home where the burden ofhis illness was lightened by a devoted staff. He died on Sunday13th January 2008.Those of us who had the privilege of serving with Donald willsalute the passing of a well-remembered colleague and friend.Major Alan Robertson adds:Having served with his younger brother Alastair in 1 HLI atLuneburg during 1958, the Battalion’s final year, it was with eageranticipation that I looked forward to meeting Donald. This I wasto do when those who had remained reported to Redford InfantryBarracks to become Royal Highland Fusiliers on 20th January1959. From the time of our first encounter, I was to relish DonaldMack’s friendship in a variety of situations as we served togetherand indeed long after I and later he had left the Active List.During the years I was living and working in London, Donaldoften stayed with me for one night, outward to the battlefield tourshe so enjoyed and about which he knew so much, those of the GreatWar and Second World War Northwest Europe, Crimea, Peninsula,American Civil War, South Africa, – and for another night (or more,if he thought I could tolerate him!) on his return. He steadfastlyrefused to travel to and from Glasgow except by coach, so I becameaccustomed to doing duty as his Orderly, helping him manhandlehis impedimenta (no light traveller he) between my Pimlico flatand Victoria Coach station, fortunately no great distance.An incident from these distant early Edinburgh months of 1 RHFis one I cannot forget. Under the leadership of “Colonel Mike”,light hearted and yet demanding, the Mess began a punishinground of Regimental Guest Nights and Dinner Nights, aimed atwelding us into a cohesive entity and getting the Regiment known.After dinner, rough games usually subjected our new Mess Kitto demanding troop trials. In the space between Anteroom andDining Room lay a large thick carpet. On the evening of whichI write, it was decided to topple Donald to the floor, after whichthe carpet was rolled up, he inside it. A good number of us wereneeded to shoulder the carpet, carry it out to the edge of thesquare, and unroll it. That done, Donald was seen lying there,supine and absolutely motionless.While the rest looked on with mounting sense of alarm, our RMO(who had been one of the carpet carriers) knelt down and madeto give mouth to mouth resuscitation, whereupon Donald sat boltupright. Glaring up at us with that familiar slightly wolfish halfsmile, he said, “Well, you buggers, bet that scared you”.Later in 1959, after the Battalion’s baffling move from RedfordInfantry Barracks to the Cavalry Barracks, and when it wasproviding its first Royal Guard at Balmoral, we were all delightedby Donald’s elaborately illustrated verses ‘The BalmoralHighlanders’. This masterpiece was prompted by the need tosend an additional officer (2Lt R H de R Channer) up to Ballaterto help out with the burdensome duties. Donald however knewbetter; poor Ronnie was there “to clear the blocked and smellydrain, and wind the Prince of Wales’s train, and while theothers fish for trout, he mounts the guard and turns it out”! Themanuscript was taken to Balmoral, where it was reportedly seenand enjoyed by members of the Royal Family.Sadly, it was long afterwards destroyed in an outbreak of fire atRHQ. So far as I know, only a single poor photocopy existed,which I last saw hanging in The Bothy, Wormington Grants,where Colonel Mike Evetts and his wife were living when theyhosted the last of the Founders’ Luncheons before his death in2001, and which Donald and I both attended.As OIC Officers’ Mess scrapbook from the start until just afterthat spectacular Queen’s Birthday Parade of 10th June 1961 inMalta, it was my duty to see the very best of Donald’s elaboratecartoons inserted, where they remain as witness to his rare talent:“Pay no attention, it’s just Frobisher talking cock as usual” (thecontent of which is best left unstated) and, when we had all beento see the film, “Dinnae worry, Sir, they’re no’ queer. They’vejust been to see ‘Psycho’.” (this from grizzled Battalion OrderlySergeant to horrified young Orderly Officer, whose torch beamilluminates a single barrack bed wherein sit two pyjamas cladJocks, arms round each other, their eyes wide with terror).Some modern phenomena were sure to merit a cartoon. One such(reproduced in the Journal, Vol 23, No 1, Summer 1999) wasdrawn after Donald had seen an officer of the Regiment wearing anabhorred baseball cap. In this scene, the moon is up. On the groundlies a prone, crumpled figure. Kneeling beside him is a Corporal,clad in combat kit and TOS, as is the young sentry (usual roundface, wide-eyed). The sentry cradles a well-drawn SA 80, while slimyoung Officer (Glengarry, blue patrol, dirk, strap trews, cane) holdsa gloved hand to his lips in surprise. The Corporal is saying “MrYoonylad, Sir, dead as a doornail” while the sentry is addressing theOfficer: “Aw Sir! Ah could see wis a baseball cap an’ a dirty semmit.Thought he wis a Bosnian spy and shot him... not an officer, Sir”!In September 2000, for the Regimental Dinner and Luncheonhosted by 1 RHF at Fort George (coinciding with UK-widecar fuel shortage), thanks to a lucky thankful of diesel, I haddriven Donald to Ardersier, where we shared a hotel room. Theweekend sparked two fine cartoons. In the first, with the Fort inthe background, an elegantly-suited and hatted figure (DIAMhimself?) faces with evident dismay an uncomely officer of the16 THE ROYAL HIGHLAND FUSILIERS