When I was 15 or 16 I had made a kilt for myself out of hesian bags(I was brought up on a farm,plenty of old feed bags about) where the tartan was hand sewn wool stripes or spray paint for the broader bands,a couple of targes,two basket hilted broadswords and a claidhmor,with a pair of dirks for good measure(all out of wood with copper wire bindings). I also boasted a philemor made from two grey blankets from the ex army shop,sewn together.

With a mate similarly mad for the Scottish background in our families, we used to transform into clansmen and run up to this hill we called the highlands to ding seven colours of hell out of each other with these weapons.Once as we closed in and pushed our targes against each other in something similar to what you see mountain goats do when they butt heads on a nature documentary,I like a dafty angled my targe slightly,allowing his to skate up over the brass studs they were both covered in and ram the hard edge straight into my eyebrow.

I writhed about in the long grass for a while holding my eye and cursing,then we resumed our clan warfare.I was quite pleased with my black eye!Now that,Jockscot,was playing at being a Scot!