Grim death, to please his liquorish palate Has taken my Lettice to put in his sallat. Raymond Lamont-Brown: Scottish Epitaphs. Chambers; Edinburgh, 1990
Bodies washed ashore
It was a cold and cloudy morning in the beginning of October 1942. Few men had remained in the village of Lower Breakish. The war wore heavy on the people of Skye. They did not know what waited for them at the beaches of the island. They did not know, what they would soon have... Continue Reading →
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