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.'
[4] Near Le Tilleloy.