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Updated: May 23, 2025
Other boatmen were sent on a like errand to Toward, Dunoon, Largs, and all other villages and castles upon the banks of the Clyde, while a special messenger was sent into Scotland to warn King Alexander. For three days and nights there was not a man in Bute who was not occupied in some fashion in preparing to meet the expected enemy.
Sore as my grief was, stricken as I was, I could comfort her as no one else could hope to do, and she could do as much for me. We belonged together. I can scarce remember, even for myself, what happened there at Dunoon. I cannot tell you what I said or what I did, or what words and what thoughts passed between John's mother and myself.
Some were from boys who came from aboot Dunoon. I'd known those laddies since they were bits o' bairns, most of them.
Could I guess that the very next time I set out from Dunoon pier the peaceful Clyde would be dotted with patrol boats, dashing hither and thither! Could I guess that everywhere there would be boys in khaki, and women weeping, and that my boy, John ! Ah, but I'll not tell you of that now. Peaceful the Clyde had been, and peaceful was the Mersey when we sailed from Liverpool for New York.
It was in November of 1913, and I was setting forth upon a great journey, that was to take me to the other side of the world before I came back again to my wee hoose amang the heather at Dunoon. My wife was going with me, and my brother-in-law, Tom Valiance, for they go everywhere with me.
The idea that one might send a torpedo after us popped into my mind once or twice, but when it did I looked out at the destroyers, guarding us, and the airplanes above, and I felt as safe as if I had been in bed in my wee hoose at Dunoon. It was a true highway of war that those whippets of the sea had made the Channel crossing. Ahm, but I was proud that day of the British navy!
When I've an engagement there, in the halls or in a revue, 'tis weel enow, and I'm happy. But always and again there'll be somethin' tae mak' me mindfu' o' the Clyde and ma wee hoose at Dunoon, and ma thochts wull gae fleein' back to Scotland. It's ma hame that's ane thing. There's a magic i' that word, for a' it's sae auld. But there's mair than that in the love I ha' for Dunoon and all Scotland.
Side by side with the Dragon was the Eagle, the galley of Sir Piers de Currie, having on board young Harald the hostage; and in their wake sailed two other ships of Arran and four of Bute, one of Dunoon, and three of Galloway, and they were the stoutest and tallest ships that had ever sailed in those deep blue waters. On the /Kraken/ of Rothesay was Allan Redmain.
We sailed on nearly due north, until the channel gave a sudden bend, just after we had passed the town of Greenock, a busy-looking place, with shipbuilding yards, and smoking chimneys, interesting to us because Watt was born here; near it we had seen on the opposite shore the village of Dunoon, a pretty watering-place.
He told it to me as we sat before the fire in my wee hoose at Dunoon, just a few nights before he went back to the front for the last time. We were talking of the war what else was there to talk aboot? It was seldom that John touched on the harsher things he knew about the war.
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