An exhilarating flight up from East Anglia to Cumbernauld, passing the majesty of York Minster, and the North York Moors. The Lammermuir Hills looked an unappetising emergency landing area. Transit through the zone of Edinburgh airport was easier than I had imagined.

The first day saw the group assemble at Glasgow Airport – a variety of what turned out to be complementary backgrounds, we gelled quickly. A shared interest in the history of special forces and SOE being the first bond.  Our first stop was the memorial to David Stirling on the family’s estate (near Stirling), to be greeted by a piper with a bag full of haunting tunes – rapid Scottish cultural immersion. DS was of course the founder of the SAS, and we were fully briefed on his political skills which led to the successful creation of this unit.

Lunch was at the retail emporium that is House of Bruar – mobbed. But it does have the benefit of hosting a memorial to the 51^st Highland Division, which had all but disappeared in the surrender at St Valéry in June 1940, but which was in the second wave at Sword on D Day. Friday night was spent in what was in some senses a prison cell (our rooms at the Coylumbridge Hotel lacked windows – not to be recommended).

Saturday was spent in the shadow of Cairngorm. Aviemore I had last visited for the purpose of trying to ski as a nine year old: my sister got frostnip; I concentrated on survival, not skiing. Now it is a tourist centre, with seemingly a high number of visitors throughout the year, only some of whom know how to conduct themselves in the great outdoors. The scenery is still majestic, even with no snow cover on Cairngorm (a dusting happened a few days after our departure).

Aviemore was the epicentre of the training for the Norwegians who joined the SOE and the Army. The former joined a unit subsequently called Kompani Linge after the death on his second operation of its leader, Captain Martin Linge. Almost all of the Norwegians had of course to demonstrate extraordinary bravery and stamina just to reach the UK (usually in small boats or the so-called ‘Shetland Bus’).  The shore of nearby Loch Morlich also betrayed signs of its wartime use.

Glenmore Lodge near Aviemore is now a youth hostel, but was STS 26 for SOE. A beautiful memorial to the Norwegians is nearby. They of course are known primarily for the extraordinary Op Gunnerside  (to destroy the Norsk Hydro plant that was the source of much of the Nazi’s heavy water).  Whilst walking around the Lodge a rangy family group entered, and I asked if they were by any chance Norwegian, and if they had any family connection. The answer was yes, and yes! The lady’s father had done an operation after Gunnerside. These folk from Bergen  became honorary members of our band of brothers for the day.

Next up was Forest Lodge –  an impressively large lodge built by the Norwegians themselves with local pine, and now in need of some TLC. Explosive storage sheds and guardrooms were in evidence in the woods.

Thence to Drumintoul Lodge, these days a gorgeous if austere shooting lodge in the hands of Johnnie Grant, the laird and 13^th Earl of Dysart. But in WW2 a centre for Norwegian training. We were shown around by Ben the charming head ranger, after a short lecture in the house. There is one remaining barracks wooden hut, which was immensely atmospheric, decaying slowly in the brisk Highland breeze. The steep sided hills of the estate clearly had their uses for training for Gunnerside. That night was spent at Spean Bridge (in rooms with windows).

No lie in on Sunday for we were to recreate (after a fashion) the Commandos’ induction process. Commando  recruits came from around the UK in overnight trains to the station at Spean Bridge. The doors on the platform side were locked. They were told to decant over the tracks, and then given an hour (sans backpacks) to reach the main gates of Achnacarry, the Commando Basic Training Centre.  If they failed, they were unceremoniously told to retrace their steps to the station and RTU. Our target was 1.5 hours for the speed march; it was raining, obviously. Full disclosure – I did not quite make the target.

Our tour was given by Ed, an extremely enthusiastic and knowledgeable ex-Commando. He is an integral part of the team at the International Commando Heritage Trust which is seeking to create a museum near Spean Bridge. There is plenty of evidence around the beautiful Achnacarry estate of the training under live fire carried out there. In siling rain we visited the Commando Memorial , which commemorates plenty of post WW2 Commandos too.

Our last stop that day was at Inverairlort , otherwise known as the Killing House, for this is where the deadly duo of William Fairbairn and Eric Sykes (no, not that one) taught their unarmed combat . It looked like something out of a Hammer Horror film, and was in an advanced state of decay. Moves are afoot  to restore it, with writer Damien Lewis an advocate. But its situation at the foot of a substantial fell means water has been pouring down from the hills to undermine its foundations. I think the technical term for it would be ‘money pit’.

At our abode for the following 3 nights, the Inverairlort Inn (which had its own wartime history), we were treated to some very informative demonstrations and talks on unarmed combat, bladed weapons, and other SOE tools.

The following morning in ‘mixed’ weather we took the ferry from Mallaig to the Knoydart peninsula, whose remoteness meant it was a natural playground for special forces trainees. We looked at  Inverie House (STS 24a), headed by Gavin Maxwell, a centre of French SOE training for such as Yvonne Rudellat, Nancy Wake & Violette Szabo. We had modern outdoor clothing – they didn’t! We also walked to Glaschoille House (STS 24b) west of Inverie itself.  Obviously we had to patronise the Old Forge Inn – the remotest pub in mainland Britain (there are no roads in and out of the Knoydart peninsula). The hardier folk took the ferry across Loch Nevis to Tarbet and walked most of the way back to Mallaig via Swordland (STS23b). Difficult terrain, they reported. I spent the afternoon  doing a  comparative tasting of Knoydart Brewery’s products.  Despite Mallaig being a small fishing port there was a disappointing choice of seafood on offer in the town’s restaurants and pubs.

Tuesday saw us dropped at Glenfinnan station for a short trek to the viaduct to await the Jacobite Express. The hillside was awash with the great unwashed, drawn by the location in the Harry Potter films (when the train had become the Hogwarts Express). I noted a dusky fellow (in his twenties) in full Harry P rig complete with cane/wizard stick/whatever. JKR has certainly done her bit for Scottish tourism.  We were there because it was a location chosen for training SOE operatives in bridge sabotage.

After that, back to more niche locations such as the stunning memorial to the Czechs at Arisaig, in  the form of a crumpling parachute. Nearby at the small but perfectly formed  Land, Sea and Islands Centre, there is a useful museum room devoted to SF training in the area. A quick stop at the graves of (Sir) David Stirling and his wife; they have great views.

The following day saw brief visits to the network of Special Training Schools around Arisaig. Arisaig House (STS 21), the main centre and a magnificent building, was visited by Colin Gubbins and Hugh Dalton on Christmas Day 1940. On its shore we were shown evidence of demolitions training focussed on trains, and the nearby cliff used for abseiling.

We passed by Garramor (STS 25a), Traigh (STS 25c), and Camusdarach (STS 25b), the latter adjacent to a lovely beach used for a location in that elegiac film Local Hero. These schools were instrumental in the training of Czech agents, including those brave men in the famed Operation Anthropoid.

A lunch stop at Fort William allowed an interesting hour at the West Highland Museum, with a useful room dedicated to our subject of interest.

Our last day was perhaps the least stimulating: we passed Glencoe (scene of another childhood survival/skiing ‘holiday’. Thence to Largs where we stood by the former Vanduara Hotel (now a private house) which hosted a D Day planning conference which may or may not have included Winston. A coffee stop at the delightful art deco Nardini’s (the town is not short of Italian cafés), and then a halt at another crumbling mansion, in this case the former Seafield School, which is the unheralded birthplace of the SBS. For the observant, one can see a tell-tale motto on the frontage ‘Per tela hostes impavadi’. We then visited Loudoun Castle, which in its already ruined state hosted Belgian SAS training.

Darvel is a notorious name amongst those interested in the history of the SAS, for it was there that Paddy Mayne chose to base his men for training in advance of D Day. The town is rather down at heel. We drove a few miles to Loudoun Hill which was Paddy’s favourite place to beast his men. Possibly for two reasons – it is steep, and secondly it was the scene of a famous defeat of the English by Robert Bruce, and this may have appealed to Mayne’s Irish roots.

Thanks to our great SOE Expeditions guides Craig and Adèle, it was a terrific trip: much learned, and new friendships forged (only partly due to shared adversity)! It gave me new insights into the rigours endured by those SOE agents who became Lysander passengers that I described in Moonlight Crusaders.

There was a narrow weather window for Friday’s flight home through which I ploughed. There were very strong winds (75 knots at 8,000 ft!), but fortunately more behind me than agin.