27 April 1944

On April 27th we cruised up the Firth of Clyde and dropped the hook off Greenoch, Scotland. I recall -- if vaguely -- one rather besodden liberty made with some war correspondents we brought across and then routine duties until 7th May. On that day and in the company of Chaplain Legg -- my liberty companion for many a subsequent venture -- we took a boat to Helensburg and from there walked via the historic “high road” to Loch Lomond. The hike carried us through the famed Scottish highlands and was punctuated en route by repeated “pulls” from a bottle of altar wine that the Padre had thoughtfully brought along. On arriving at Bulloch at the head of the Loch we had tea with two wee Scottish lassies, took a short row on the Loch and then caught the bus to Glasgow for dinner -- then by train back to Greenoch and home. A most delightful day -- one which set the motif for subsequent trips -- when we concentrated most of our energies on the people and the countryside rather than on the bars and shops. (Not through any temperance convictions, however, but chiefly because we took liberty on Sundays.)

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