The incredible true story of a bagpipe player who roused the troops invading Normandy by marching along the beach while coming under heavy gunfire is being honoured as commemorations begin.
Bill Millin, born in Canada to a Scottish family, stepped onto Sword Beach helping to lead British Commandos with nothing but his bagpipes and a ceremonial knife.
Known, affectionately as the ‘Mad Piper of D-Day', Pvt Millin was the personal piper to Lord Lovat, a Brigadier leading troops from the 1st Special Services Brigade into battle on D-Day.
Despite coming under gunfire and seeing his friends being killed around him, Pvt Millin marched the beach for 20 minutes in a stirring display of British courage as his comrades invaded French soil.
The Mad Piper of D-Day: The unbelievable story of the man who marched the beach unarmed PA/GETTY
“He saw some horrific sights on the beach,” John Millin, his son who lives in Rampton Nottinghamshire, said.
“Every moment he thought ‘there'll be a bullet coming my way any minute’.”
His commander had convinced him to bring the set of bagpipes despite orders not to play the instrument because it could attract too much attention, endangering the lives around him.
At first, Pvt Millin protested, stating the war office ban on bagpipes, but later recalled Lord Lovat’s reply: “Ah, but that's the English War Office. You and I are both Scottish, and that doesn't apply.”
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Bill Millin in 2004
PA
Millin played ‘Highland Laddie’ and ‘The Road to the Isles’ despite the risks.
Troops landing in Normandy were told to get off the beach because “if you stay on the beach you’ll die on the beach”, says John.
But Lord Lovat “asked Dad to play up and down the shoreline.”
“It was horrendous,” he said.
“He played tunes a little bit faster because he didn't want to get shot halfway through.”
Millin later claimed that a pair of captured German snipers said they hadn’t shot him because they thought he’d gone mad.
John Millin playing on Sword Beach at 70th D-Day anniversary
PA
As D-Day progressed, Pvt Millin and Lord Lovat marched to Pegasus Bridge despite, once again coming under sustained fire from German defenders.
His acts on D-Day were later immortalised in the 1962 film ‘The Longest Day’.
Later in the war, Pvt Millin was part of the forces that liberated Bergen Belsen concentration camp, playing as he marched through the gates.
One prisoner remarked that he thought he’d died, and the angels were serenading him on the way to heaven – he'd never heard bagpipes before.
John says his dad struggled with PTSD that usually coincided with anniversary events and Remembrance.
“The sights he saw all the way from Normandy to Germany stayed with him,” John said.
“He lost a lot of friends. Saw a lot of things he wished he hadn’t”
Memorial service on Sword Beach to Bill Millin after his death in 2010
PA
John grew up in Glasgow to a soundtrack of bagpipes.
“I heard the pipes at home, if not every day, certainly every week.”
“I was born to the sound of ‘Highland Laddie’,” he said. “When my mother was giving birth, dad was outside the maternity room playing the pipes. It’s sort of ingrained in me.”
“At school in Glasgow, all the kids were saying ‘my dad was a paratrooper’ or ‘my dad was a tank commander’ and I said when I said ‘my dad played the bagpipes’ it seemed to cause a lot of laughter.”
Now the story is celebrated as one of the most important in the D-Day landings.
John proudly played the bagpipes at the unveiling of a statue honouring his father's role on D-Day in Colleville-Montgomery in Northern France.
Landing on Queen Red Beach, Sword Area
Getty Images
“I played ‘Amazing Grace’, and I played it quite well. I've not been able to play it that well ever since.”
“I didn’t learn to play the pipes until sometime after he died, with some regret.”
“I know dad would be chuffed. He’d be proud that I picked up the pipes.”
Sadly, his father died in 2010 before the statue could be revealed three years later, but more than 500 pipers attended.
For the 80th anniversary, John and his family are returning to Normandy for events, including a ceremony at the Bill Millin statue.
He’s dedicating his life to ensuring the Mad Piper’s story is never forgotten, nor its significance in remembering D-Day.
“Dad realised that the sound of the pipes attracted people. If they remember the piper, they’ll never forget those that died on D-Day,” he said.
“Everything my father did was for remembrance.”
