The Pipes at Alamein

Dedicated to the Pipers of the 51st Highland Division, who made the supreme sacrifice at Alamein.

The Pipes at Alamein

Accustomed from my childhood to the pibroch’s ringing drone from the bracken-covered hillside that’s hard beside my home,

That proud and rousing memory down the years did gleam,

When I heard the old familiar strain, that night at Alamein.

The desert night had fallen, and we stayed for zero time;

The pride of Scottish Regiments, along the northern line;

Silver rays from the rising moon on our bayonet points did gleam,

As we crouched and waited to advance, that night at Alamein.

‘Twas then the guns gave voice, with harsh and searing shriek,

And art our NCO’s command, we started to foot

To advance across the desert sand, behind our barrage scroon

Advancing into screaming hell, that night at Alamein.

Then Jerry set about to give us all he’d got,

With howitzers and trench mortars he opened up the lot.

The tracers from his fixed lines did through the shadows beam,

Red messengers of death — they seemed to sing at Alamein.

‘Twas then heard the pipers, just as we neared the wire,

The ringing, wailing pibroch that sets Scottish hearts of fire;

Above the hellish rackets and dying comrades’ screams,

A glimpse of home stood out so clear — that night at Alamein.

Oh! I love the Pipers’ music, so harsh to southern ears,

With the iron ring of victorious that reach down untold years.

Since the brass of Roman Legions at Mons Groupias did gleam,

And were shattered, as we did their spawn, that night at Alamein.

Sometimes the air can softly sound a lullaby so sweet,

Or perchance a lilting reel, enchanting to feet,

But ’twas a fighter’s challenge came through the dusty scroon

To cheer us on to victory, that night at Alamein.

No need for me to tell you how we broke the German line,

It will many times be chronicled by abler hands than mine;

But now I want to tell you of the greatest sight I’ve seen —

‘Twas a Piper swinging proudly, in the van at Alamein.

Then pause, ye British people, ere to your duties go,

And think once of the Pipers who fell before the foe.

But for their dauntless courage there’s courage there’s another tale I wean,

Not of victory, but of sorrow, from the field of Alamein.

But they have set the deeds to music, as was done in days of yore,

And their comrades laud their glory, to the men they would led before,

And Scotland’s hills and glens ring with all the world’s esteem

Of the mean who gave the music on the Pipes at Alamein.

Freiceadan Dubh

Written by Jimmy Moncrief, Newburgh, Fife, Scotland who was a member of the 51st at Alamein.

Submitted by W Harris