Gurkha Highlander - Day 8

The last day started well. It wasn’t raining, but the clouds meant that the day would not be too hot. Breakfast at 7:30am and we were bowling along the roads by 8:05, with about an hour to where I had picked everyone up the night before. Walker John had estimated about 7 miles to Bridge of Dye, and then another 18.
“ We’ll do 4 mph over this - we’ll be with you at 11:15” I had my doubts because they were traversing a forest, and the tracks are really windy.
There were again no packed lunches, so I took the decision to go into Laurencekirk. It took about 30 minutes to get there from Milden, through the countryside that resembled the Home Counties.
I parked up beside the Coop and made my way in. Bananas, yes; crisps, yes; sandwiches… hmmm. So I asked the nice lady on the check out where the sandwiches were.
“ The breads there the butters there and there’s ham and suchlike there.”
“ Ah well, I should have said where are the made up sandwiches”.
She looked at me as if I had two heads.
“ What, can you not make them up yourself?” I guess there isn’t much demand for made up sandwiches in Laurencekirk.
What I did spot was some small packs of chicken satay sticks, with either curry or sweet chilli sauce. There were only 20 odd so I bought them all - it was the last day and would be a treat for the boys.
When I got to the check out, the lady looked at me strangely.
“ Could you not find the bread?”
I made it back to RV1 at Bridge of Dye by about 11:15.
No sign of the boys. I wandered up and down the verge, peering up the track. No sign.
There were some raspberry bushes with fruit on them growing wild by the road. I pulled one. It was the most delicious raspberry I have ever tasted. It was completely wild. I picked as many as were ripe and put them in my cap with a view to giving the boys a few.
So I sat there until 12:35, when I spotted Rajif loping towards me from further along the road.
“ Mr Lear Sahib, we came down another track. And Walker John Sahib made a mistake with the distance..” and he roared with laughter.
We were on a tight schedule as we had wanted to get to Stonehaven for about 5pm, but my bet was now it would be nearer 7:30 pm.
I drove up the road and pulled the van in beside the lads.
“ I totally underestimated the distance through the forest, “ said Walker John, which caused gales of laughter from the Gurkhas. They tucked into the satay sticks, and were ready to move again by 1pm. And what about the raspberries? Well, whilst I was waiting, one of them looked particularly juicy so I ate that one. Then there was the one that didn’t look too good, so I ate that.. Anyway, by the time they turned up there weren’t any left. They got the bananas instead. Better for them.
The clouds were deepening their dull greyness, which threatened rain. The boys would be walking about 18 miles in about 6 and a bit hours. I had about 80 miles to do, so I got to Stonehaven around 3:30. I went in to a coffee shop and asked for a coffee to go.
“ Sorry. You can sit in but you have to eat something.. And we’re too busy to do a take-away coffee.”
I couldn’t see very many customers in that particular place.
I went into the Royal British Legion to be told they weren’t expecting us. I phoned the newspapers that were coming and was told if we weren’t arriving at 5 they couldn’t send anyone. I phoned the local MP’s PA, and was told he had other appointments and couldn’t possibly be there at 7:30pm.
But I did get a phone call from the Gurkha Welfare Trust offices in Salisbury, saying the Sunday Times article had produced a rush of interest, and also people wanting to know what time the boys would be arriving.
I nipped into the local library to use their Internet ( no wifi in Stonehaven that was accessible) and managed to get a coffee there. I drove out of town to recce where the boys would be emerging onto the roads, and plotted a course through the town that would be easy for them.
I made my way back to the RBL for 5pm, as that had been the original ETA, and I expected some people would be there. By now it was raining heavily again.
There was quite a number of people waiting, and I had to tell them that the boys wouldn’t be in until 7:30. Some said they would have to go but Mike Robins, who had seen us off in Mallaig, said he would be back. Several people pressed large notes into my hand, and one couple were very interested to see the actual route as they had walked some of it. They paid me £25 for one of our “Gurkha Highlander 08” caps - I had said £5. I filled the flasks with tea.
By the time I had done all that it was time to return to RV2 and wait for them for the last time. They duly appeared just before 7, I ladled tea into them, and then started to lead them into the town.
“ Hurry up!” shouted Capt Rajen.” My wife is pushing me from behind, my daughter is pulling me by the left hand, my son by the right, and I AM FLYING!” They had about 3 miles to walk, and I drove to each of the turns and waited to show them which way to go. I can tell you that after 190 miles they covered the last three in 31 minutes.
They marched down to the sea.
“ Tenshun!” yelled Walker John.” Dress to the right! Abooouuut turn! Forward march.!”
By which time the Gurkhas could hardly stand up they were laughing so much. WJ was walking them into the sea, so there was NO doubt they had walked coast to coast.
We walked back to the RBL, where the local MP, Sir Robert Smith, shook their hands. The photographer from the Press and Journal had managed to get there, so lots of photos got taken. Capt. Rajen had developed a war cry which I think was supposed to be “ GURKHA HIGHLANDERS! “ but which now had degenerated into what I took to be a Gurkha battle cry. He had explained to me that it made him feel better. I ordered the drinks - I could do it blind now,2 large brandies, 3 large Jack Daniels and coke, a Magners cider, a red wine, and a J20 for me - and before I could pay the tab, four of the locals had not only paid for that round but were setting up three more. Fortunately I stopped them and got them to make donations instead.
We had had a message that we were to drop in on Forfar Royal British Legion en route back to Edinburgh. We hurtled down the road and got to Forfar at about 8:45. Charlie Brown shook us all by the hand and them introduced us to his wife Margaret, who was in full Army combat fatigues with the big boots.
“ I’m Army Barmy” she said.” I look like this every day.”
Another round of drinks was bought for us and then 7 hot Forfar Bridies were produced. I got a packet of crisps - they only knew about the 7 walkers.
Then Charlie shouted out “ Bit of hush PLEASE!.. We have here tonight six serving Gurkhas and an ex-Gurkha officer who have just walked 200 miles from Mallaig to Stonehaven in aid of the Gurkha Welfare Trust. We in Forfar decided to get right behind them, and we had a Beating of the Retreat, from which we hoped to raise about £500. I’m delighted to say that with various other donations we managed to raise FIFTEEN HUNDRED POUNDS! John come up here and get the cheque!”
Needless to say, Walker John was quite emotional about such a large individual donation, but managed to say a few words. Another round of drinks then back in the van. The rain was still tumbling down, and we didn’t get to Edinburgh until well after 11. I had 7 snoring companions all the way down.
We were greeted by WJ’s wife and daughters, and by Mrs. Lear and the Dog, who immediately adopted Rajif, the youngest and quite possibly the toughest. Green Thai Curry had been prepared for us, along with extra rice and chillies.Nothing would do but the boys wanted the Memsahibs to see the pictures of the walk and one of the cameras was linked up to a laptop, and we had a slide show with great hoots of laughter over various events en route.Mrs. Lear presented them all with cashmere Black Watch Tartan scarves - and some shortbread.
By 12:30 I took the decision that I needed to get going, as Walker John had to be in his office for 9am. I shook hands with the boys for the last time, and Mrs. WJ gave me a big hug and whispered in my ear “ Thanks for keeping John going. He loved it.”
I climbed into the van for nearly the last time, and got back home about 2am.
AFTERMATH.
The boys had a slow start to their day, but went into the town in the afternoon. They met up with Walker John at the Gurkha Brigade, a Nepalese restaurant in Edinburgh just off Leith Walk. One of Rajif’s mates was playing the pipes at the Tattoo, so he joined them for supper. Capt Rajen disappeared for a few moments and came back with the proprietor. “Sahib, may I present my boyhood friend. We have not met for 20 years.”
WJ had managed to get tickets for them all at the Tattoo, which delighted them. What they weren’t ready for was the spotlight suddenly transfixing them and a shout over the tannoy “GURKHA HIGHLANDERS! ATTENSHUN!” They leapt to their feet, and the voice named them all individually, said what they had been doing and why, and asked for a round of applause.

It rolled round the esplanade, sounding like thunder.