WITH the vote for Scottish independence drawing near, I recall a fond and amusing memory.
During the winter of 1952, the final year of my two years of National Service, I was a patient in a ward at the old military hospital on Catterick Camp.
One of the other lads in the ward was a Scot, and we became fairly good friends.
He was an intelligent lad and he taught me the fundamentals in the game of chess.
On receiving a bagged-up haggis from home he gave me a portion of it, of which I found quite reasonable to the taste.
That Scots lad never failed to shout “Home rule for Scotland” in a perfect Scotts burr every night and his cry was answered in chorus by the other lads, with “Oh, pipe down haggis”.
GH Grieveson, Richmond.
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