Did I tell you that I finished the carving of the plate for Lawrie's
grave last Wednesday, and we got it put up on the very day that we
were ordered to leave that district? I think I did tell you that I
was sending a rubbing of it to his father and another to his fiancée,
and I am sending now to you the roughest possible impression of it.
One is done partly with saddlers' beeswax, but it was so unsuitable
that I had to stop it and finish with pencil. The ones I have sent
are both better than these ones I now send to you.... I wrote a
letter to Mr. Lawrie yesterday. I tried to write it as well as I
could.
[FROM THE REV. J. MACGIBBON, C.F.]
I think the first of our Officers killed was Captain Lawrie... After
Lawrie was buried behind the trenches, Captain Lusk procured an oak
tablet to be placed on the Cross which marked Lawrie's grave. The
carving of the inscription was a labour of love. The proper tools
for carving were not procurable. He began with a penknife and
latterly procured a chisel. Day by day he occupied his spare time
cutting out the letters. Though his tools were primitive the letters
were perfectly formed. When he had finished the whole inscription,
his fastidious taste found that the surface was unequal. He
ruthlessly planed this smooth which involved fresh labour in
deepening nearly all the letters; yet he stuck to it working for
hours on end, to make the whole as worthy as possible of the comrade
who had trusted him. Then he made a rubbing of the tablet to send to
Lawrie's father, trying first one process and then another and
another, until he could get the best reproduction.
Three more letters will bring us down over a month of comparative
quiet to the memorable events of the middle of June:--