Picture this. Standing on a street corner and hearing the tune Rabbie Burns in the distance. Looking to the horizon and seeing the khaki of "The Brits" heading towards you. Amazing sound. Amazing vision. The thud of the "Hack Drum", the tap of the lead tip, the shrill of the flutes, all in unison to the tune of Suicide Battalion.

The band halts at the roadside. Members one and all marching with military precision on the spot. The shriek of the band sergeants whistle to summon the end of the tune. The single tap of the lead tips drum. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. A shout comes up from the back of the band. The lead tip beats the drum introduction to Wolverhampton. On there way they go. "The Brits" in full glory. On the march with one of there finest renditions. They pass to a clap from the watching crowds, a deserved round of applause.

The shout for The Armagh Brigade is given by the sergeant. Glory! Glory! to "The Brits". Straight into An Englishman's Betrayal. Nearing the end of the parade. Up ahead the saluting party awaits. "Eyes Right" comes the shout. "The Brits" walk past, heads held high, Songs That Won The War the tune they play.

They turn the final corner, the "Hack Drum" thudding to the tune Londonderry. Drummers drumming. Fluters fluting. Londonderry may be on the Foyle but, the Cambuslang Britannia Flute Band are on the streets.

The band come to a halt to the sound of Company B. A chill runs through the air. In the distance you can still hear the echoes of the Y.C.V. Brigade. Silence..........A whispered cheer goes up as the call to Highland cathedral is given. Members of the public stand amazed. Dignitaries stand with pride. Band members shine.

Three weeks from this parade a wee boy stands on a street corner shouting "Ma, here they are "The Brits"".