Front Our Own Correspondent GLASGOW.
To the saga of the fighting clansmen of the western isles of Scotland will probably be added the story of 20-year-old Neil Campbell, soldier of a Scottish regiment, native of Lachboisdale, South Uist, whom, although disarmed and captured by the Germans, succeeded in making his escape, breaking through their lines, and reaching this country.
Campbell. with a companion of the same age as himself, was captured at one of the battles of the .Somme. To a clansman capture is something unspeakable, and on their way to the concentration camp the men talked in their own Gaelic tongue. They were working out a plan to frustrate the Germans.
Their opportunity came when the column
was passing a deserted farmhouse. Like wraiths the two highlanders slipped from the ranks and into the house, They went out through a back window and away across the fields.
Skilled countrymen, they took advantage of every trick of the soil, every runlet and gullcy. After nightfall, and moving like shadows, they rounded a bend. Both men stood still. They were looking into the face of a sleeping German sentry.
RUM AND RAW POTATOES For the first four days of their twenty-one days' trek the men never broke their fast. On the fifth day they came across a deserted lorry which yielded a bottle of rum. On that and raw potatoes they made a merry, ightthey came upon a deserted farmhouse. Their joy was eomplete when they found a comfortable bed. They were asleep in seconds.
Some sixth sense shrilled a warning, and both men awakened to hear harsh German voices. A heavily armed German unit had stopped at the house to bed down for the night. The men silently slipped out of and under the bed. Thus they lay for hours until the unsuspecting Nazis left. They then continued an their journey.
Days later they came across a deserted chateau. its larders held plenty of food, and there were cows to be milked in the pasturage. The starving men could be forgiven for resting up there for a day or two.
OVER THE SEA
It was nightfall when they reached a tiny port where fishing smacks rolled in a gentle
swell. Silently the men slipped aboard a vessel, weighed anchor, and so out on the Channel where for eighteen hours they forged towards England. In semi-consciousness the men heard a voice roar a challenge, a challenge that broke on a note of admiration, and ended in a cheer. " Berney, these Scots are running an evacuation on their own."
At the Methodists'. National Conference at Sheffield last week a memorial was submitted from the Holmfirth circuit, Yorkshire, asking the conference to endorse the five conditions of peace set forth by the Pope in his address to the Cardinals last Christmas, " so that the Christian Church might speak with one voice on the subject of peace."