Forres, Scotland
Since we were staying in Forres, I wanted to take a stroll through town to get my bearings in this cool little town in the North of Scotland. I had already walked around the Burn of Mosset, but I decided to take a solo stroll through town to get some insight into the place where we were staying for a few days.
I first walked up the hill to what was the town’s main church, St. Laurence. Like the lyrics, “I stopped beside a Sunday school, Listened to the song they were singin’,” however, there was no song. It was hard to believe that the main church in a town of over 9,000 people would not have a service, but surprisingly, the church ceased operations in 2024. It was not just the main church; I also walked past the former Castlehill Church, a building that once served as a United Presbyterian Church and is now attached to St. Laurence. This building, too, was locked and silent on a Sunday morning.
Leaving the churches behind, I walked towards the war memorials in town. In my previous trips to the United Kingdom, it has always been sobering to see the number of monuments dedicated to soldiers who paid the ultimate sacrifice in World War I. Forres was no different when you read the staggering number of names of World War I dead from this small town in Scotland. It is estimated that over 26% of all Scottish soldiers who served in World War I perished in service to their country. Another staggering percentage of soldiers also perished in World War II, and their names, while fewer than the list for World War I, were still a staggering number of losses for such a small town.
A name on a plaque by itself on the war memorial stood out to me: Private Neil Donald, a soldier who perished in the Gulf War in 1991. Reminders like this show that the United States has long had allies who have fought and died beside us in all of our wars, and we are very foolish to attempt to throw away any of our allies thanks to the misguided mental gymnastics of our politicians. Learning that Private Donald was only 18 when he was killed by friendly fire two days before a ceasefire to the war was signed makes those mental gymnastics played by politicians all the more sickening. Neil Donald was not much older than me; I was 11 when the first Gulf War was fought, yet he never got to live a full life. His death is just as sad as all of the other names on the war memorial.
What is even more sobering is when I walked onto another war memorial in the town, one dedicated to Assistant Surgeon James Thomson. When you first approach the monument, you wonder why there is a huge monument in Forres for a single soldier. When you approach the monument and read the inscription, you begin to learn why Dr. Thomson was so revered.
Dr. Thomson was attached to the 44th East Essex Regiment of Foot when he was sent to Malta in 1850. At the time, there was a major outbreak of cholera, which cost the lives of many troops and every other surgeon in the regiment. Dr. Thomson survived the outbreak and helped heal the remaining troops. Dr. Thomson’s experiences carried over four years later when the British became involved in the Crimean War. The 44th Regiment took part in the Battle of Alma, a victory by English, French, and Ottoman Troops over the Russian Empire, fought in Crimea. At the end of the battle, Dr. Thomson volunteered to remain with over 700 Russian prisoners of war to nurse their wounds. This was an extremely difficult assignment, as Thomson was cut off from the British troops, with no provisions or food, and enemy troops in range. The situation was about to become worse as the dead were festering around the injured and dying Russians, meaning that disease could threaten to eliminate all of the troops. While Dr. Thomson and his assistant buried many troops, he nursed about 340 Russians back to health. This was all the more impressive as they did not speak English and Dr. Thomson did not speak Russian. These troops made it by ship to Odessa. Sadly, a few days after the movement of the troops, James Thomson succumbed to Cholera, but not without saving the lives of hundreds of men. Wars often give us ready examples of inhumanity, so it is remarkable when tales of basic human decency emerge.
Making the walk back to the tavern reminded me of the final lyrics to the song, when Kris Kristofferson wrote:
“There ain’t nothin’ short of dyin’
Half as lonesome as the sound
On the sleepin’ city sidewalks
Sunday mornin’ comin’ down”
I reflected on the names read, memorials seen, and the scenes witnessed. Villages, towns, and cities everywhere have stories of closing churches, memorials for the dead, and parks that aren’t used to their full potential. Forres, however, is seeking to update its parks, repurpose its closed churches, and continue to honor its long-ago war dead, including Neil Donald and James Thomson, two brave soldiers who were taken long before they had a chance to fulfill their lives. Life is fleeting, and we should always remember to value and cherish all of our experiences.