Millin initially began playing as the Allied boats sailed up the River Hamble towards The Solent. The music was relayed over a loudhailer so troops on other transports could hear it. Former Commando Roy Cadman described the scene, ‘As we pulled out with Bill Millin playing his bagpipes, all the boats started tooting their hoots and all the men on the decks were cheering. It reminded us of footballers playing for England against Germany, coming out of the tunnel onto the pitch, where all the crowd all cheered as they came out. It was just like that…I’d seen some very tough lads there, the tears were running down their face due to the emotion that was being stirred up.’

Many more would be moved by Millin’s music later that day. One of his fellow Commandos, Tom Duncan, would later state in an interview what the sound of those pipes meant to him on the beaches. ‘I shall never forget hearing the skirl of Bill Millin’s pipes. It is hard to describe the impact it had. It gave us a great lift and increased our determination. As well as the pride we felt, it reminded us of home, and why we were fighting there for our lives and those of our loved ones.’

For Millin, the pipes gave him something to focus on, to distract him from the horrors around, as well as providing relief after suffering terrible seasickness on the crossing over.

‘I enjoyed playing the pipes, but I didn’t notice I was being shot at. When you’re young you do things you wouldn’t dream of doing when you’re older,’ he said. ‘I was concentrating on my bagpipes and Lovat is a bit of a critic of bagpipers, so I had to watch what I was playing, so I had no time to think about anything else.’ He would later recant that in the midst of battle, Lovat once turned to him and said, ‘you missed out three notes there piper!’

After the first song had been completed, Lovat asked Millin to move into a rendition of ‘Road to the Isles’, which he did as he slowly walked up and down the beach, lifting the spirits of those around him. Some even stopped what they were doing to wave their arms and cheer at him, although one soldier called him ‘the mad bastard.’ The legend of the ‘mad piper’ had been born.