WAKING up on the Twelfth morning is akin to being a child on Christmas morning.

Although now 28-years-old, I still get that same sense of excitement and intrigue as to what the day ahead might have in store – even though essentially it is the same as every other year.

As secretary of a pipe band in Fermanagh, to which I have been a member for 12 years, my ears tend to be still ringing from the night before as the skirl of the bagpipes and the tap of the drums fill the air at our final practice before the big day.

While Drumharvey Pipe Band may never win any coveted trophies on the competition stage, we are still immensely proud of our existence and what we represent.

Celebrating our 75th anniversary next year is a significant achievement bearing in mind our rural location and the voluntary commitment required to keep such an organisation 'on the road'.

After a traditional Ulster fry – which sets me up for the day – band members congregated at the Orange hall from a very early 9am (I know marching bands in Belfast are already half way to the field but this is Fermanagh time after all!).

The pipers are the first to arrive, given that our instruments require a hefty amount of TLC and are very temperamental. Our band tutor, Ossie, is a Godsend as he diligently tunes our pipes individually and has a unique talent of twisting drones and replacing reeds until the collective sound is one of unstinting harmony.

Meanwhile, our friends in percussion are making their final adjustments and adorning the bass drum with fresh orange lilies while our companions for the day, the members of Drumharvey LOL 159 (not forgetting the women) are slowly congregating outside.

As is traditional in Fermanagh, lodges and their bands parade their home towns and villages before making their way to the county demonstration.

Our short parade in Irvinestown allows the band a gentle warm up so to speak before the main event.

This year we were lucky in that we only had to travel a short journey to the nearby picturesque village of Kesh for the festivities.

As we marched to the assembly field, the sense of atmosphere was building. Red, white and blue bunting was on full display with a traditional arch adorning the main street.

Maybe I am biased, but in my view Fermanagh is the true family Twelfth.


People of all ages, from the youngsters in their buggies to pensioners on the sidelines, still wearing their sashes with pride; this is a day where everyone just wants to enjoy themselves.

It is also a chance to meet up with old friends and relatives and have a good old yarn.

As we left the field and filed into the main procession, the sound of the band reverberated off the walls as we turned the corner onto the packed main street.

The hair on the back of my neck was standing as the crowd cheered to the harmony of our music. The pipe major had chosen popular marching tune 'Killaloe' and it was going down a treat.

Before we knew it, we had marched our way along the short one mile route to the demonstration field.

Half-time provides a welcome breather as well as the opportunity for a burger and some liquid refreshment with fellow band members.

Brethren are soon forming again for the return parade and following a quick tuning, our bagpipes are ready again as we prepare to leave Kesh.

The orange lilies on show may have started to drupe but the enthusiasm of the bands, marchers and crowd certainly was still in full bloom as we all went out in style before going our separate ways.

After leading the lodge members around their home town on our return, it was a relief for everyone to retire to the Orange hall and reminisce over a great day aided by some tea and sandwiches.

Our ears were ringing and our feet were sore but we were already looking forward to next year to do it all over again.

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