<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Maryhill Barracks, Glasgow, May 21st 1941<\/strong><\/p>\n Mary MacLeod was busy restocking the shelves of the shop in the NCOs\u2019 canteen. She liked the job well enough, though the walk to work through mean streets was hard to bear on a May day that put her in mind of happier times back home in Skye. Stacking the cigarettes, she was interrupted by a Very Important Person, Sergeant-Major Andrew Marshall:<\/p>\n \u2018Mary, lassie, drop wit you\u2019re doin\u2019 an\u2019 come along wi\u2019 me tae Major Drummond\u2019s office.\u2019 He quickly continued, \u2018You\u2019ve done nothin\u2019 wrang, lassie. But we\u2019re needin\u2019 a translator to help wi\u2019 a new recruit frae Skye. He makes oot that he only speaks Gaelic and, if so, he\u2019s nae damn use in the Army. But the major an\u2019 me, we think maybe he\u2019s a damn liar.\u2019<\/p>\n The Sergeant-Major, very properly, held Major Drummond\u2019s door open for Mary, and \u2013 small and dark, neat and timid \u2013 she tripped into the office. Very properly, Major Drummond rose from his desk to greet her. Nothing so far was setting Mary at her ease. The major indicated the private standing to attention on the other side of the desk:<\/p>\n \u2018This is Private MacKinnon, Mary. We need you to help with some questions we have for Private MacKinnon.\u2019<\/p>\n And so the interrogation proceeded. Yes indeed, he told Mary, he had been taught English at school. But the school had been a long way from the croft in the winter time. And his mother had often needed his help in the croft in the summer time. Forbye, truth to tell, he wasn\u2019t a great scholar. The private answered all her questions with a gentle smile. Mary felt a rush of homesickness and she warmed to the boy, an emissary from her own people.<\/p>\n The question-and-answer session took a while, and was periodically interrupted by the sergeant exclaiming, \u2018My God! Wit\u2019s that oot the windae?\u2019and \u2018Good Grief! Wit\u2019s that thing crawling up your sleeve?\u2019 To all of these interjections, Private MacKinnon would react with just a puzzled frown.<\/p>\n At length, the major leaned back in his seat: \u2018What do you think, Sergeant-Major?\u2019<\/p>\n \u2018Sir, a man that cannae follow orders is nae more use than a chocolate teapot in the Army.\u2019<\/p>\n \u2018My view exactly. We\u2019ll discharge him.\u2019<\/p>\n The major shuffled some papers. The Sergeant-Major led Private MacKinnon away. In the doorway, the private turned back to Mary. He gave her a slow wink and walked away.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n Michael Bloor<\/strong> is a retired sociologist living in Dunblane, Scotland.\u00a0A published poet and essayist, he has recently discovered the exhilarations of short fiction, with pieces published or forthcoming\u00a0in Ink Sweat & Tears, Breve New Stories, Fictive Dream, Platform for Prose, The Flash Fiction Press, Flash Fiction Magazine, <\/em>and Scribble.<\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Maryhill Barracks, Glasgow, May 21st 1941 Mary MacLeod was busy restocking the shelves of the shop in the NCOs\u2019 canteen. She liked the job well enough, though the walk to work through mean streets was hard to bear on a May day that put her in mind of happier times back home in […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":4,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_et_pb_use_builder":"","_et_pb_old_content":"","_et_gb_content_width":"","footnotes":""},"categories":[7],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-14580","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-prose-poetry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/14580","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/4"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=14580"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/14580\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":14581,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/14580\/revisions\/14581"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=14580"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=14580"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=14580"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}