The Skirl o' the Pipes

Richard Thomson over at Scots and Independent has an interesting post all about his weekend with the Huntly Pipe Band. It reminded me of just one of many incidents I was involved in with a pipe band - back when I had a proper job, although quite how proper job and working with a pipe band appear in the same sentence I'm not so sure. British Caledonian Airways was, because of its Scottish heritage, in love with all things tartan, which of course meant that the female staff uniforms were just about the best there has ever been. The site of a girl standing at the top of the aircraft steps, ‘somewhere in Africa’, in her crisp white blouse and her kilt has been known to make many a grown up ex-pat go weak at the knees. Anyway I digress, because what BCAL also had was its very own Pipe Band. At the drop of a hat, or the start of a new route to some far flung corner of the world, the Pipers were dispatched to stir the hearts of everyone to hopefully make them buy more tickets.

When a new route was started the Pipe Band became a focal point of the airlines activities in the new destination city. The Pipe band were clever, they always learned a new tune with particular links to that city for playing at events and so on around the new route start up. When BCAL began flying to Houston they played The Yellow Rose of Texas while walking along the main street of the downtown area. Next thing you know they are all over the TV with local stations oooo-ing and ahhhhh-ing over this wonderful new Scottish/British airline.

When BCAL began flying to Atlanta I was asked to ‘keep an eye on them’ during their time in the city while the more important BCAL employees got on with the job of schmoozing the local big-wigs and the guests on the inaugural service, which included the late Labour Party leader John Smith. A huge reception was planned in the ballroom of the Omni hotel, so the band and I went through what it was they were going to do. Most of the talk surrounded how they were gong to walk around the balcony area before descending the steps of the ballroom to properly entertain the one thousand or so guests. We didn’t talk about what songs they were going to play. That was my big mistake.

That night, with the great and the good of Atlanta, including the Reverend Jesse Jackson, assembled in the ballroom, it came time for the band to enter. I was standing next to BCAL's chairman, Adam Thomson. First we hear the muffled strains of the pipes, they are playing Scotland the Brave as the enter the top level of the room. As they got to the staircase and started to descend to the room in which we were standing the Chairman turned to me and said.
“Well done Richard, aren’t they marvelous.”
As I was about to reply the pipers and drums segued into the special song they had learned especially for Atlanta.
“Oh my God.” Was all I could say.
“What? What is it?” says a worried Adam Thomson.
“This song, you know what it is don’t you?" I asked him
"No, No, what is it?
"It’s Marching Through Georgia, the song the Union troops whistled and sang as they burnt Atlanta during the American Civil War.”
I thought he was going to have a seizure. I was lucky to survive that one, because somehow it became all my fault.