Archives » War Memorials
Arbuthnott is a village in the Mearns, the area south of Aberdeen and north of Montrose.
It is most famous for being the home of writer J Leslie Mitchell (Lewis Grassic Gibbon.) Its War Memorial is on a wall of the local hall.
In Arbuthnott graveyard there is a memorial to Lt Col Hew Blair Imrie who was killed in Normandy 1944. His name does not appear on the main memorial though.
This is in the form of a Celtic Cross and stands in a small gardened area just off the main street.
Reverse view looking on to Main Street:-
The Names on the Memorial include a staff nurse, only given as Staff Nurse Macbeth:-
A new addition to the small memorial garden, to commemorate the 100th anniversary of the Great War, is a pair of memorial benches of which I photographed one. Both benches have inlays of soldiers, barbed wire and stylised poppies.
This one is in Station Square, Inverness, facing on to Academy Street and seems to commemorate both the Anglo-Egyptian and the Mahdist Wars. The front is marked for Tel-el-Kebir.
These two sides are marked with Khartoum, Egypt and Ginniss:-
As well as Tel-el-Kebir we have Atbara and Khosheh:-
The Memorial has a sphinx squatting at the soldier’s foot.
St Augustine’s Episcopal Church, Dumbarton (above; dedicated to St Augustine of Hippo) is possibly the most important building in my life. Not just because it was where I got married – though that can’t be minimised. It was the church where my grandfather (the original Jack Deighton) was the incumbent Rector in the 1930s and 1940s. The Episcopalian ministry was more or less the Deighton family business. Not only my grandfather but his brother (my great uncle,) his son (my uncle,) and his grandson (my brother) took up holy orders – or as I used to put it, “I come from a long line of penguins.” My generation was where the tradition ended though.
The church was where I spent a fair part of each Sunday in my youth as a member of the church choir. There were two accompanied services each Sunday; Matins/Morning Prayer or Sung Eucharist in the morning and Evensong in the evening.
More germane to its importance to my life is that it was where my mother first laid eyes on my father as he entered church in the choir procession and she told herself, “I’m going to marry that boy.” At the time they were both aged nine! My mother was a strong-willed woman and knew her own mind from a young age: her mother said she was so thrawn she’d walk on the other side of the road because she didn’t want to walk with the rest of the family. My father never had a choice. Still, without that I wouldn’t be here.
Since I moved to Fife the only times I have entered St Augustine’s have been for family funerals or as in Saturday’s case a memorial service for an old family friend who died earlier in the year. It was a chance to see how cruel time is to us all. One woman said to me, “I know you,” but couldn’t work out who I was till she was told. Mind you I didn’t recognise her either. My excuse is that she’d changed her hair colour.
I took the photograph below of the chancel, high altar, reredos and stained glass window at the east end; now all much more visible from the nave since the rood screen was removed during restoration. (The pictures on the lower altar are from the life of the old family friend.) The reredos is a particularly fine example of the form.
The War Memorial to St Augustine’s congregation members used to be to the right of the entrance door. When the church was refurbished with heritage funding – the church is a grade A listed building – it was relocated to halfway or so up the left hand side:-
It only occurred to me when I got home that this was probably the last time I’ll ever attend St Augustine’s. With the loss of that old family friend I no longer have a connection to the church and none with Dumbarton – except for the glorious Sons of the Rock of course. I’m kicking myself that I didn’t take more photographs, especially of the stained glass windows facing the High Street.
Invermoriston lies near Loch Ness, in the Highlands, 7 miles from the loch’s foot at Fort Augustus.
Apart from some Highland cows in a field by the car park and its War Memorial (which I featured here) its most interesting feature is the bridge built by engineer Thomas Telford in 1813.
The bridge was superseded by a new one in the 1930s and its approaches are now in considerable disrepair:-
This is taken from off to the right of the one above:-
Viewing it from down on the river from the other side of the bridge reveals its two arches:-
This very modern Memorial Bench is near the path from the visitor centre to the battlefield at Culloden:-
The inscription is in Gaelic but an English translation is given on the smaller extension, “We followed you, Prince, to this ocean of flatness and bullets.”
Another grave marker refers to the “English” dead. Many in the Duke of Cumberland’s victorious army were actually Lowland Scots. The Jacobite Rebellion of 1745 was of course a Civil War.
To the foreground below is a reconstruction of the sort of house that would have been present on or near the battlefield of Culloden as shown on maps from the time. In the background is the modern visitor centre. These buildings make the scene much less bleak than it used to be.
This is the back of the cottage:-
Side view of cottage:-
Front of cottage:-
As the wording on the cairn at the centre of the battlefield of Culloden on Drummossie Moor says, the graves of the clans are marked by the names of the clans.
Mixed clans. The graves go all the way to the back of the mound:-
Clan MacKintosh. Again, the graves go all the way to the back of the mound:-
Clan Cameron. Yet again:-
Clan Stewart of Appin:-
Clans McGillivray, MacLean, MacLachlan and Atholl Highlanders. Nearly three hundred years on and floral tributes are still being paid:-
Well of the Dead. Here the chief of the McGillivray fell:-