
So another two British soldiers have lain down their lives in the service of Queen and country in Iraq. You may well think "What on earth does that have anything to do with a Scottish island??" I'll explain.
In the First World War, 1,000 men from the Isle of Lewis alone perished. From a population of about 25,000, six thousand joined up for the armed forces. That's about HALF of all menfolk. Of those, 1 out of every 6 never came home again. 200 drowned within sight of home at the sinking of HMY Iolaire, on the Beasts of Holm, 2 miles south of Stornoway.
The First World War was a politicians' war, a conflict that had been brewing for a long time before the fuse was lit in Sarajevo, in 1914, when an Austro-Hungarian archduke was shot and killed in the street. A long litany of alliances between various European states then rolled into action, with war being declared in August 1914. I am convinced (personal opinion) that the man in the street at the time wasn't that fussed with a nobleman being assassinated in the street of some Balkan town. There had just been a bloody conflict there, again, only a year or so before. The story of the Christmas truce has surfaced increasingly frequently in recent years. It was touch and go whether the war would have fizzled out at that point. It was very, very near. But it didn't, and after a year of atrocities there was no truce at Christmas 1915.
Scotland generally and the islands in particular have always loyally provided cannon fodder for the forces. The economic situation in the islands was so dire that the honour, glory and payment associated with the colours was a powerful lure. Others joined the merchant navy, which suffered harshly under the U-boat campaign in the Atlantic. Naval reservists were called up and were transformed into foot soldiers under Winston Churchill, a pretty bad decision by all accounts. They were sent to defend Antwerp against the Germans, to no avail. I've described in a previous post that 100 Lewismen ended up in a Dutch internment camp for the rest of the war.
In 1914-18, people did not openly question the politicians' decisions about going to war. These days, we do. ]]>









In Lewis, the Sunday is still very much the way it used to be: nothing moves. After 10 a.m., those going to church move around the town, and after lunch people go for a walk in the Castle Grounds. Until about 10 years ago, the swings and roundabouts in the playpark at Bayhead were chained on Saturday night, to be unlocked on Monday morning. 

Last spring, I visited the Seallam! (exclamation mark part of name) Centre at Northton, 50 miles south of Stornoway in South Harris. This is the place where Bill Lawson set up a centre for genealogy in the Western Isles. There is a definite market for this; in the centre hangs a world map which shows all the places in the world from where people have launched a query with Seallam! It includes unlikely spots such as Papua New Guinea. Here in Lewis, there is a strong seafaring tradition, and there is a saying that when a Lewisman goes ashore in any port in the world, he is likely to encounter a fellow islander. 


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Bus drivers will drop you off outside your door if the route goes past. 



On Wednesday afternoon, I also went to the clarsach competitions. Competitors included school girls singing along whilst playing the Gaelic harp, which I found quite a feat. Apart from the girls, there were three groups of clarsach players, the largest comprising 14 harps! 

















Writing this on Wednesday morning, which appears to be fairly calm. If look at the diary entries for yesterday and Monday, they are full of references to high winds. The strongest winds experienced yesterday was a hurricane force gust, 70 mph, towards midnight. That was nothing compared to the winds out on North Rona, some 60 miles to the north. At 9pm, they had sustained winds of 75 mph and gusts up to 111 mph. Still, not as serius as last year's hurricane when gusts went up to 134 mph. In the Western Isles, this sort of thing is not as rare as elsewhere in the UK. Yesterday evening, police relayed a warning through local radio for severe weather. 


Unfortunately, it does not adequately show the crests on the waves in the Newton basin. 




