“Were you a soldier?” I asked, losing some of my fear as Glen sniffed at my hand.“I was,” Donald said, standing more erect as old memories returned. “79th Foot, Cameron Highlanders.” He threw a smart salute, then took hold of my hand. “Come on little Ellen and don’t be scared.”
“I was,” Donald said, standing more erect as old memories returned. “79th Foot, Cameron Highlanders.” He threw a smart salute, then took hold of my hand. “Come on little Ellen and don’t be scared.”Donald led me to small lean-to shelter in the lee of a dry-stane dyke, with a couple of old blankets inside and a fire outside against the nip of April’s wind. “Here’s home,” he said. “It’s not Balmoral Palace but better than a scrape under a hedge.”
Donald led me to small lean-to shelter in the lee of a dry-stane dyke,
