The Oban Times - - THE GREAT WAR -

The Glory Sons of Scot­land, The Story Songs of Scot­land. We shall hear them on the west­land breeze that sings across the heather; And the pass­ing clouds shall waft Them o’er the meadow and the sea, The no­ble songs of rights and wrongs, And brave loyal men.

Oh, the Daunt­ing Songs of Scot­land – The Haunting Songs of Scot­land, They’re swelling by the moun­tain side, And deep within the glen, The Is­land Songs of Scot­land, The High­land Songs of Scot­land! - Mur­doch Ma­clean.

The world is a hap­pier place to-day than it has been for four ter­ri­ble years. It breathes the air of free­dom. It re­joices in its se­cu­rity. Not only has the pa­gan creed that Might is Right been ut­terly over-thrown, but an ar­ro­gant men­ace to the lib­erty and peace­ful de­vel­op­ment of na­tions has been swept away. All the things that the proud and boast­ful mil­i­tarism of Ger­many stood for have dis­ap­peared. The world-plun­der upon which the rulers of Ger­manys had so long set their hearts has passed out of their reach for ever. To-day the gospel of greed re­coils upon the head of Ger­many with over-whelm­ing ef­fects. The mar­tyr­dom of Bel­gium, or North­ern France, of Ser­bia, of Rou­ma­nia the Gar­man peo­ple es­cape, but if they have any con­science or any mem­ory, they will walk humbly in the rec­ol­lec­tion of the des­o­la­tion that neigh­bour­ing na­tions have suf­fered at the hands of the schemers of Ber­lin, who of de­lib­er­ate pur­pose plunged Europe into blood.

It does not lie in the mouth of the Ger­man states­men to com­plain of the Al­lies’ terms.

Th­ese have been de­scribed from Ber­lin as “fear­ful”. They are not so fear­ful as the “fright­ful­ness” with which Ger­many for more than four years has sought to ter­rorise the peo­ples of the Al­lied coun­tries on land and sea. They are not so fear­ful as the terms that Ger­many would have im­posed upon the Al­lies had she won the war. Let Ber­lin re­mem­ber the mer­ci­less, un­scrupu­lous and hu­mil­i­at­ing Treaties of Brest-Litvosk and Bucharest, and let it be thank­ful. Ger­many is re­ceiv­ing from the Al­lies the just rec­om­pense of her deeds, with­out vin­dic­tive­ness and with­out the taint of re­venge.

The Vic­tory of the Al­lies has not been lightly won. The price is high. The hour of tri­umph has only been reached through a long trail of blood and tears – a via dolorosa. So vole a train had Ger­many laid against mankind that life and trea­sure beyond imag­in­ing have been poured out to achieve its de­feat. Only the re­ward is the mea­sure of the sac­ri­fice. The Al­lies dared not lose the War, and now that it has been won there is a deep­ened con­scious­ness of the vast and crit­i­cal is­sues that hung in the bal­ance so long.

The High­lands and the Isles may hon­ourably claim their share in the Vic­tory. The High­land Reg­i­ments are the glory of the Bri­tish Army. From the first day of the War they have done grim and stern work, their deeds of hero­ism and self-sac­ri­fice will en­dure in the his­tory of the Empire, and will glow with pride and af­fec­tion in the hearts and the homes among the hills and the glens and the isles of the High­lands.

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