Posted on 08/21/2010 3:56:58 AM PDT by csvset
Bill Millin, who died on August 17 aged 88, was personal piper to Lord Lovat on D-Day and piped the invasion forces on to the shores of France; unarmed apart from the ceremonial dagger in his stocking, he played unflinchingly as men fell all around him.
(Excerpt) Read more at telegraph.co.uk ...
Damned excerpts. Anyways, RIP Mr. Millen.
The War Office had banned pipers from leading soldiers into battle after losses in the Great War had proved too great. “Ah, but that’s the English War Office,” Lovat told Millin. “You and I are both Scottish and that doesn’t apply.” On D-Day, Millin was the only piper.
Well said Sir.
His cousin, David Stirling , founded the SAS.
Pres. Reagen described what Bill Millen did in his D-Day speech to Ranger vets at Pointe Du Hoc, 6/6/84.
Millin was surprised not to have been shot, and he mentioned this to some Germans who had been taken prisoner. They said that they had not shot at him because they thought he had gone off his head.
The War Office had banned pipers from leading soldiers into battle after losses in the Great War had proved too great. “Ah, but that’s the English War Office,” Lovat told Millin. “You and I are both Scottish and that doesn’t apply.” On D-Day, Millin was the only piper.
, Lovat stalked him and shot him. He then sent two men into the corn to look for him and they came back with the corpse. “Right, Piper,” said Lovat, “start the pipes again.”
Blue Bonnets Over the Border http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EbQJIM9BCUw&feature=search March, march, Ettrick and Teviotdale, Why the deil dinna ye march forward in order? March, march, Eskdale and Liddesdale, All the Blue Bonnets are bound for the Border. Many a banner spread Flutters above your.head, Many a crest that is famous in story. Mount and make ready then, Sons of the mountain glen, Fight for the Queen and the old Scottish glory. Come from the hills where your hirsels are grazing, Come from the glen of the buck and the roe; Come to the crag where the beacon is blazing, Come with the buckler, the lance, and the bow. Trumpets are sounding, War-steeds are bounding, Stand to your arms then, and march in good order; England shall many a day Tell of the bloody fray, When the Blue Bonnets came over the Border.
Lord Lovat’s piper dies.
Thanks for the ping. May he rest in peace.
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