This Friday just past, Christopher and I wore kilts of Black Watch tartan to our friends' wedding. C looked very smart indeed. I wore it by choice, and am proud to have done so.
My Uncle Iain also wore it by choice, though in circumstances as far removed from a wedding as you can get. He wore it as a member of the Black Watch, having (if I recall the family stories correctly) lied about his age to join up. He then volunteered to join the Parachute Regiment, which was then in its infancy. Just over 70 years ago (28th March, 1943), he was killed in action in Tunisia.
I am glad that I have never had to join the Forces - with absolutely no disrespect to those who have - I really do not think that I am made of the right stuff for it, for a start. I am not a brave man. Then again, I have read many stories of ordinary people who did extraordinary things in extraordinary times - perhaps I could have measured up. I doubt it, but perhaps. I am glad that my Uncle, and many thousands of others did, but deeply saddened that they had to. And, because they did, I am free to choose to not join up, free to choose to wear the Black Watch tartan, and free to hope that my son will know a better world than even I have...
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