The real Bob. He can be seen at the National War Museum-Scotland, at Edinburgh Castle

Sticks survived the Crimean War, and came home a hero in his own right.  His comrades in the Scots Fusilier Guards even fashioned a medal for him.  As they made their grand victory march through the London streets, past their beloved Queen Victoria, Sticks led the regiment.

His heroic deeds in the Crimea were legend.  He even disappeared for weeks from the frozen trenches before Sevastopol.  He returned wearing a Russian religious medal around his neck.  The Sergeant Major winked, and said, “Guess the damned Ruskies know a good dog when they see one, aye.  Glad ta hav ye back laddie.”

Private Gorman also survived the war.  He left the Scots Fusilier Guards a few years later, but Sticks chose to remain.  He had found a home, indeed a calling.  Sean knew it as well.  Sticks didn’t belong to him.  He belonged to the Scots Fusilier Guards, and still does – in memory.

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Yes, there was a real Sticks, but his name was “Bob.”  He did belong to a butcher, but may well have chosen the life of a soldier, rather than having been rescued by one, as in my fictional tale.  He fought in many of the battles in the Crimean War beside his comrades in the Scots Fusilier Guards, and survivied the war.

He even survived the freezing trenches of that first winter of 1854.  His mates did fashion a medal for him, and a collar of white belt leather, festooned with regimental buttons.

Unfortunately, the irony of fate caught up to Bob.  On a cold February morning in 1860, he was marching through London in his usual place at the head of the Scots Fusilier Guards.  Outside Buckingham Palace he was run over by a butcher’s cart and died as a result of the accident.

Much mourned, his spirit lives on, even today.  You see his friends just couldn’t let him go.  They had him preserved, and he can be seen by all of you – sitting tall, still on guard duty, at the National War Museum of Scotland in Edinburgh Castle.

I hope you’ve enjoyed my tale about Sticks as much as I’ve enjoyed spinning it for you.

In memory of Bob … a warrior.