The following account of the 1944 Annual Muster of the Salonika Reunion Association is taken from The Mosquito, issue 68, December 1944.
Lord Milne talking to his ‘old comrades’ on the occasion of the 20th Annual Muster in London, on Sunday, October 1st, told them this story: One of your members went to the wrong place this morning and asked a sentry where the Salonika Reunion Association was meeting. The sentry replied “I don’t know; I don’t think there is any meeting. There are none left alive.” This caused a lot of laughter.
“Well we are very much alive!” commented “Uncle George,” ” and this is the best parade we have had since the commencement of the war.” He said he thought it a wonderful turn-out after five years of war, and it was typical of the high state of morale of the nation. It was a great pleasure for him to see them again, and if they did not think him rude, he congratulated them on their personal appearance.
… Stating that he hoped this would be our last meeting in war-time, at least during the European war, he looked forward to a real Victory Reunion next year. “Au revoir! Good luck to you! …”
… With the S.R.A. standard and escort in the lead, we marched – a long line of threes, twisting amongst the held-up traffic – until we arrived at the Cenotaph in Whitehall. When we had halted and turned towards the national war memorial we were standing six deep. In the centre, facing the south side of the Cenotaph, stood Lord Milne with our head officials, and they were flanked on their right by a single line of women – our nursing sisters, V.A.D.s, etc..
Then, receiving from our hon. secretary and hon. treasurer, the large wreath of gilded laurels, inscribed “To the Honoured Memory of Our Fallen Comrades. From the Members of the Salonika Reunion Association,” Lord Milne, bareheaded, advanced with Colonel W.R.D. Robertson (president of the S.R.A.) and placed our tribute on the base of the Cenotaph. Colonel Robertson, who was in army uniform, saluted, they turned and resumed their positions. The parade, closely scrutinised by onlookers on the pavement, then did a smart left-turn and marched away. We had paid tribute to those whom we left on the rugged hillsides and the open plains of Macedonia, in city cemetery or in lonely unidentified graves – heroes all! For twenty years we have kept faith with them in this simple ceremony at the Cenotaph. “they shall grow not old . . . . we will remember them” – always!

“… the rugged hillsides …

… and the open plains of Macedonia.”
Photographs taken by the author in March 2016: a view from Castle Hill to La Tortue on the Doiran front (top) and across the Struma valley from the Bulgarian lines (bottom).







