'As Thou didst help our fathers. Help Thou our host to-day! * * * * Jehovah of the Thunders, Lord God of Battles, hear!
What a Sabbath it was! The earth seemed full of anger; and as morning began to dawn, and the thunder of the guns died away, we thanked God for the lives of those we cared for in the trenches; very few of our men were hit, and not a single Officer in our Battalion. Unfortunately it has been otherwise with several of the other regiments in our Brigade.
I am not at liberty to give you the military result of this fighting for our portion of the line. Conditions here are more normal and now we realize how very different the mere holding of the line is from a definite battle. The former means desultory firing only on the part of artillery, machine-guns, and rifles;--the other is something else.
In the 'Big Fight' of May 9th, the 6th Scottish Rifles had been singularly favoured in losing none of their Officers. It was not to be expected that such immunity would be long continued. The first to fall, just a week later, was one for whom Captain Lusk had a specially warm regard. The loving care which he bestowed upon the memorial to mark his resting-place was wholly like him. His own account, which follows, is supplemented by one from the Chaplain of the Battalion:--
The Sabbaths seem to be memorable days with us here. Sabbath the 9th of May was the battle day--our first big fight. Yesterday, in the comparative quietness of the afternoon, we lost our first Officer. Captain Lawrie, our Machine Gun Officer, was shot through the head when going along one of the communication trenches from one of his guns to the other.[4] He had stopped to speak to two men, and had possibly straightened himself up so that his head showed over the parapet. I was especially fond of Lawrie.... He had such a nice face and was just altogether such a nice soul. Oh, it is so sad that one should be taken and another left. It happened yesterday afternoon. I went up at about 6 o'clock. A grave had already been dug in a little soldiers' cemetery just behind the trench lines, where men of other regiments had been laid, and this one was for Allan Lawrie. Mr. MacGibbon our Chaplain was with us, and we were glad of that. He was brought on a stretcher, wrapped in a waterproof sheet and with his head covered. We fell in behind,--Colonel, Major, Doctor, Adjutant, Chaplain and myself. The stretcher was laid alongside, and he was lifted from it and laid to rest. Our heads were bared, and in the midst of the cracks of the rifle shots the Chaplain stood at the head of the grave and prayed. It was 7.30 on Sabbath Evening, May 16th.... We could have missed many another better than him. His horse will miss him too.... God is over all and His ways must be Best. And we must 'carry on.'