Abstract

Lossiemouth

Lossiemouth, so the invaluable gazetteer testifies, fronts Moray Firth, looks out hopefully upon the portentous German Ocean. There the inconsiderable Lossie, coming north out of the Highlands, falls into the sea. Here, is the single golf club between John o'Groats and Land's End where the Prime Minister of Britain may not play. To understand the fact one must travel in thought backward into the darkness which was the World War, to that moment when all Britain was authentically shaken, its eyes fixed upon flanders and Picardy battlefields. Lossiemouth proudly divided world interest with Ypres, Salonica, even Verdun; India, Ireland, Canada, Australia, islands and continents all around the seven seas murmured its name. The comet of a summer night, trailing its glory as it sped, such was Lossiemouth, then, ere the northern fog shut down and blotted it out not unkindly but inexorably.