Five Lads in Cairo 1925

In the year 1925, the bustling streets of Cairo were a swirl of sounds and colours—a melting pot of cultures, where ancient traditions met the encroaching modernity of the new century. Amidst this vibrant cityscape, five young soldiers found themselves far from their native Scotland, clad in their kilts and chequered bonnets, the unmistakable regalia of the Highland regiments.

They were a motley crew, drawn together by the circumstances of service but bound by a camaraderie forged in the crucible of war. The war that had ended nearly a decade ago still cast long shadows, and though these young men had not seen the worst of the trenches, they carried the weight of their nation’s legacy on their shoulders.

James "Jimmy" McAllister, seated in the front row to the left, was the oldest among them—a quiet man, whose stoic demeanour hid a heart full of stories. He was a thinker, always lost in thought, contemplating the world around him with an intensity that belied his youthful face. Jimmy had grown up in the Highlands, where the lochs and glens were his playground. The war had taken him away from the misty mountains of his home, and now, here in Cairo, he found the desert heat both fascinating and oppressive. His eyes, though sharp, held a distant look, as if he was always half a world away, wandering through the heather of his homeland.

Beside him, on the right, sat Alistair "Ally" Mackenzie, the joker of the group. Ally's infectious laugh could lighten the mood in any situation, and his quick wit made him popular among the troops. He had a knack for finding humour in the bleakest of circumstances—a skill honed in the dark days of war. But beneath the surface, Ally was a man of deep emotion, and the horrors he had seen haunted him more than he cared to admit. He often spoke of his love for the sea, reminiscing about the days he spent fishing with his father on the rough North Sea. Cairo, with its dry, arid air, was a far cry from the windswept coast of Scotland, and Ally longed for the salty spray on his face.

Standing tall in the back row, centre, was William "Bill" Fraser, the natural leader of the group. Bill had the broad shoulders and strong jawline of a man born to command. His presence was a source of reassurance to the others, and his calm, steady voice had guided them through many a tight spot. Bill came from a long line of soldiers, and military discipline was in his blood. Yet, beneath his tough exterior, he was a man of surprising tenderness, with a soft spot for poetry. At night, when the others were asleep, Bill would often take out a worn notebook from his kit and scribble down verses inspired by the strange and exotic world around him.

On Bill’s left, stood Thomas "Tommy" Campbell, the youngest of the five. At only 19, Tommy was full of boundless energy and enthusiasm, always eager for adventure. He was the one who pushed the group to explore the city during their leave, dragging them to the bustling souks and ancient mosques. Tommy had grown up in a small village near Inverness, and the vastness of Cairo amazed him. Every day was a new discovery, a new story to tell. But beneath his exuberance was a young man still trying to find his place in the world, struggling to reconcile the romantic tales of war he had grown up with, with the stark reality he now faced.

Lastly, to the right of Bill, was Duncan "Dunk" MacLeod, a giant of a man with a gentle soul. Dunk was the muscle of the group, always ready to lend a hand or shoulder a burden. Despite his intimidating size, he was a man of few words, preferring to let his actions speak for him. His comrades knew they could rely on Dunk in a pinch, whether it was lifting a heavy load or standing watch through the night. Dunk had come from a farming family on the Isle of Skye, and he missed the simple, rugged life of the crofter. The hustle and bustle of Cairo was overwhelming at times, and Dunk often sought solace in the quiet corners of the city, where he could find a moment of peace away from the chaos.

In Cairo, they found themselves both enchanted and bewildered by the city. The call to prayer echoed through the narrow streets, mingling with the chatter of vendors selling spices and silks. The pyramids loomed in the distance, silent sentinels of an ancient civilization, a reminder of the fleeting nature of time. The city was a far cry from the green hills of Scotland, yet it held a strange allure that captivated their hearts.

The five of them, Jimmy, Ally, Bill, Tommy, and Dunk, would often spend their evenings in a small café near their barracks, sipping on sweet mint tea and sharing stories of home. It was in these moments that they found comfort in each other's company, a brotherhood that transcended the uniform they wore. They were more than soldiers; they were friends, bound by shared experiences and the unspoken understanding that they were each other's lifeline in a foreign land.

As the sun set over the Nile, casting long shadows over the ancient city, they would sit in silence, each lost in his own thoughts, yet comforted by the presence of the others. They knew that their time in Cairo was but a chapter in their lives, one that would eventually close as they moved on to new adventures. But at that moment, they were content, five lads from Scotland, finding a piece of home in the heart of Egypt.