"An Instrument of War" (Written by Sam Skinner)

**SPEAKER_1** (0:01)
This title is narrated with Virtual Voice, computer-generated narration for audiobooks.
An Instrument of War by Sam Skinner One Bloody Sunday, 1900 Pardeburg, South Africa The Argos were fed up with being used for target practice by the Boars. There had been grumblings in camp by Pate and some of his fellow Highlanders about how to take the Boar trenches.
To hell with close order in-line volley fire was the general sentiment.
Pate advocated for cover, shoot and move. Get out of these damn compact formations and take the initiative, he railed.
Spread out and keep pressure on the Boars. Watch for and avoid pockets of heavy fire. Try to get around their flanks. Look for weakness that only the front-line soldiers could detect and exploit it. Don't wait for the officers to make a decision. Take the fight up into the Boars' faces.
The men that lay on the ground unsheltered by the rise were taking casualties. The officers and NCOs were waiting for orders. Pate grabbed Billy's arm. I think we can get around their flank if we move hard right, Pate said. Billy looked at Pate questioningly. Pate knew what the look meant. After a moment, Pate nodded affirmatively.
Without hesitation, Billy breathed life into his pipes, stood up and struck up the regimental quick march, the camels are coming, and the two of them moved off to the right.
Pate was right beside Billy. Other battalion pipers began to sound their pipes. The battalion rose and followed the piper. By the second measure, they were moving quickly. The boar's rifles stepped up their rate of fire. Shells exploded among the argols as the boar big guns came into action. The twins were at the forefront of the move right. Pate was moving and firing quickly, but was not in a full-on charge. The rest of the battalion was right with them, all bravely pressing the advance under tremendous fire from the boars. Shot, shell, flying dirt clods, dust and smoke were heavy all around them.
Blood was pouring from Patey. He had taken wounds from small shrapnel on his legs, face, and arms. Billy also had taken some shrapnel. His khaki tunic had blood seeping into it from his right shoulder. A bullet hit Billy hard. His pipes began to fade. He stumbled and went down. When the sounds of the pipe music stopped, the battalion faltered. Patey stopped to render aid to Billy. He knelt down to see if Billy was alive or dead. As Patey knelt over his twin brother, he could sense an increase in fire from the enemy. Bullets were kicking up dust all around him. He could sense the line hesitating.
He knew that now was the time. Any hesitation in the advance could turn into a route. Any wasted time or wrong decision could be disastrous. He wanted to comfort his brother. A thought flashed in his mind. Our mother would expect me to help my brother. Patey knew he needed to do what he could to get the Highlanders moving. Now was the time to push. He knew in an instant what was expected in this moment. Expected by himself, his brother, be he dead or alive, by those present and by all those that had gone before him.
He dropped his Lee-Enfield rifle and began to stand upright. As he did, he reached for his brother's bagpipes. He held the chanter and drones in his right hand and swung the bag under his left arm as he laid the three drones on his left shoulder.
Bullets sang close by. Dust kicked up around him. A cool breeze momentarily blew on his sweaty neck and face. Time seemed to slow down. He took three quick deep breaths, and between each one he exhaled mightily into the bag of the Great Highland Warpipe. As the bag filled, the drones began to sound, and as he pushed the bag firmly under his arm, the chanter sounded. He went straight into the famous tune Black Bear. The other pipers up and down the line, including pipers from the Black Watch and then the Seaforth Pipers, stood and began to pick up the tune. The regiment rose again and surged forward with a yell. When he got to the part of the tune where the troop is supposed to yell, he could hear another roar up and down the line. Pate left Billy where he lay and played the battalion forward. The roar of the men, the sound of shot and shell, nearly drowned out the sound of the pipes, but Pate played on, moving forward and hoping the rest of the battalion was following. They were with him. Inspired by the pipes, the Highland Brigade moved faithfully forward.