Part 3

It said that the Brigade would be moved to a certain place given by a map reference, at a time not definitely known, and that I was to get into touch with the Brigade and arrange for the bringing up of rations. It was getting dark by this time. I sent round a message to all the Transport Officers to have everything ready to move up when I gave the order, and I set out to find the Brigade. I took my fastest horse and had with me the Transport Officer of the Second Battalion Scottish Rifles and three mounted Orderlies. What a relief to get something to do! Off we went down the road towards the trenches at a gallop. My horse,--bought at Carluke,--was the fastest of them all and I led the way. Within about half a mile of the trenches we dismounted, and, leaving our horses at a farm in charge of the orderlies, we--that is Stirling (the other Officer's name) and I--went forward on foot. The positions of the different roads and fields were quite familiar to us, as we had been there many times before under the comparatively peaceful conditions of merely holding the trench line, and we knew approximately where the Headquarters of the Brigade might possibly be.

It was by this time 9 o'clock, and the night was dark. We had to turn along a road that ran parallel to the trenches, go along it perhaps a quarter of a mile, then take a track across fields in the direction of the trenches till we struck a second road, also running parallel with the trench line. Then the next thing to be done was to go along this road, and try to get touch with the Brigade by field telephones, which are laid between Brigade Headquarters and Artillery Batteries.

Crossing these fields the fire had been bad enough, but when we reached this second road there was a perfect inferno round about us. There were our own guns in every field along its length shooting across the road just over our heads, and the German shells were searching for them. Flash followed flash lighting up the darkness,---bang followed bang with terrific force, as shells went from our side and shells burst from their side, and rifle bullets pinged and whistled through the air. There were blazing hay-stacks on one side of the road, that lit up the darkness with a weird light. Along it we went from battery to battery. The first one told us that they had been speaking to our Brigade, but that the plug had now been taken out. On we went to the next one: 'Sorry, the wire must be cut,' they said. On to the next: 'Can't do it, sir,' they said. Then on again. The firing was getting worse, and we doubled to the next place, where they had their telephone down in a cellar. This time they could do it, and I sent a message down to arrange a spot to which I would bring rations and water for the Brigade. Then we set out again on that same road to order up the Transports of the six Battalions. When we were about to leave the shelter of this place on the backward journey, the shells were bursting so near us and in such rapid succession that I said we must wait till this quietens a little. We made certain arrangements between us about the carrying back of the message, that, if either of us was knocked out, the other would 'carry on,' and then we started and ran for about half-a-mile--then lay down flat on our faces to recover breath--then up and on again, stopped under cover of a farm building to get breath again, then started down that track across the fields once more, and here we walked, for there were too many telephone wires about the height of one's chin across the pathway to make running much good. By now we had got out of the hottest part of it, and it was only an occasional shell that came across us and an occasional bullet that whistled close.

At last we reached our horses, but how we ever returned alive from our journey on that open road, where cover there was none, God knows. It must be that He honours the prayers of those at home who care for us. I was given a feeling of quiet confidence that we would get through, and all fear seemed to be taken away.

'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:--

MONDAY MORNING, MAY 17, 1915.

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.

MONDAY NIGHT, MAY 24, 1915.

One of Lawrie's men has made a wooden plate to go on a cross which we shall put at his grave, and I am trying to carve an inscription on this piece of wood. I have begun to do it myself with what tools I can get, and I hope I shall have time to finish it properly. I would like to do it myself. It is better and more permanent to cut the letters on the wood than simply to paint them.

TUESDAY NIGHT, MAY 25, 1915.

I am using any spare time I have in carving an inscription on a piece of oak wood to put on a Cross on Allan Lawrie's grave. Did I tell you this already? I have got a small chisel and my penknife, but am getting on wonderfully with it, though it will take several days to finish.

FRIDAY MORNING, MAY 28, 1915.

I am still busy in spare moments working at the cutting of the letters on the plate for Lawrie's grave. It takes time, and, as Lawrie himself was an artist and drew well, I do not wish anything unworthily done to mark his resting place.

WEDNESDAY MORNING, JUNE 9, 1915.

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:--

FRIDAY NIGHT, JUNE 4, 1915.

They told us on Tuesday afternoon that our Battalion would be relieved in the trenches that night (which made only five days instead of six), and further that we were to move the next day, Wednesday, away from our 23rd Brigade and 8th Division, and join the 154th Brigade of the 51st (Highland) Division. So we got everything ready, and the whole Battalion and its Transport started on a ten mile 'trek' in a South Westerly direction. After about four hours' marching, we reached our destination, and while on the march our two travelling kitchens were working, and water was being boiled for making tea, so that the whole Battalion got a hot meal served out to them immediately they reached their billets. On these 'treks' there is always a good deal for me to do after the march is over, as kits and mails and blankets and rations require to be distributed to the different Company billets, and they are often scattered, so that the furthest of them might be a mile or so apart. These I have to find as best I can, generally in the dark and over unknown roads, so that on Wednesday I was in the saddle continuously,--with the exception of a few minutes now and then--from 2 p.m., till midnight. When midnight came and the work was done, I lay down on my valise in the open field beside my horses, pulled off my boots and jacket, and got between the blankets and slept till 6.30 a.m., when it was time to get up again to water the horses. This has to be done at a Canal half a mile away, as there is no water nearer.

... This new Division appears to be entirely Territorial, but, notwithstanding its name, there are a good many English Regiments mixed up with Scotch ones in it.

MONDAY MORNING, JUNE 7, 1915.

Yesterday we had a large Communion Service in a field. Almost the whole Battalion was present, as we were back six or seven miles from the firing line. It was drawn up in the form of three sides of a square, and the fourth side consisted of the Officers, in the centre of whom was the Chaplain with a little table covered with a white cloth. On the table was a single Communion Cup. The wine used was the red wine of the country. The bread was ration bread cut into little pieces. After the first portion of the Service was over, the Colonel took round the bread to every Officer and man, and the Chaplain and Major Shaw took the wine. To every man both were personally handed. We sang--'The Lord is my Shepherd,' 'God is our Refuge and our Strength,' 'Twas on that Night,' and 'O Thou my Soul;' and 'God save the King.' I raised the tunes, 'Wiltshire,' 'Stroudwater,' 'Communion;' and then the tune I wanted for 'O Thou my Soul' was St. Paul, but I forgot how it went, so I just took another that I didn't know the name of. I wonder if it would trouble you to send me my Psalter with the tunes? I sent it home from Falkirk in my long uniform box.

That afternoon the Battalion moved off to the trenches--a dusty march of several hours. My transport went by a different route. One gets plenty of practice in leading troops over unknown country by the map alone. Even in daylight one makes mistakes, and it is more difficult in the darkness. I got my column to the point indicated in the map reference, and found the field I was to occupy in possession of another unit's transport. This is what is known in the army as 'bad Staff work.' So I had an argument with the lad who was answering for the Staff Captain, and gently pointed out that I was right; and after gaining my point we got into the field and took the loads off the weary animals. But the work was not yet done for the day and it was already 8.30 p.m. Coke had to be taken to the trenches, so we set off at 10 p.m., with 'four mule burdens of coke,' again over several miles of unknown road, and handed it over to some members of the Battalion quite near the trenches. We got back to our field at 2 a.m. this morning, and thus ended our Sabbath.

FRIDAY MORNING, JUNE 11, 1915.

The Battalion is having a rest in billets, but the billets available in this part are too small and there are not enough of them for all the troops in the district, so that things are very much crowded. Did I tell you about this billet of ours? It is the dirtiest we have yet been in. Four of us (including Mr. MacGibbon) occupy one room and the family occupy the other. The family consists of a dirty old woman, and a daughter not much cleaner, and three lads. We have our meals in the room that we sleep in, and the family do their cooking in our room which has the only available stove! The Interpreter sleeps on the table and the rest of us on the floor, which is of stone and very uneven. There is a 'midden' just outside our windows, and we try to persuade the lads to do something to improve it, but the need for improvement does not appeal to them. Fortunately we have plenty of chloride of lime, and the eau-de-cologne you sent me has been very useful as the flies are legion. The horses and wagons are in a field behind, and the rain has made it very muddy.

III

FESTUBERT

_Chevalier of the Legion of Honour_

June--November, 1915

III

FESTUBERT

_Chevalier of the Legion of Honour_

June--November, 1915

The dark hour came for the 6th Scottish Rifles on June 15th, and in it Captain Lusk found his great opportunity for the service which he was at all times so ready to give. It was for that service that the French Government afterwards honoured him, and for it he is remembered by many in the Regiment and beyond it.

His own account is contained in a letter to Colonel Kay, who was wounded at an early stage of the engagement:--

THURSDAY, JUNE 24, 1915.

DEAR COLONEL,

You must be wearying for news of the Battalion, and I seem to have allowed far too long a time to pass without reporting to you what happened after you left. Truth to tell there has been little inclination to write to anyone these last days, and a real shrinking from having to tell all that must be told. First of all let me say how glad I am to hear that you are getting on well. Colville writes to me to say that you and Hill and he are at the same hospital. We have been anxious about Hill, but later news seems better. I don't know what news you have already had about things, so will you forgive me if I repeat things you already know?

It had been arranged that on the night of the fight Hamilton and I would bring up water in dixies to the reserve trenches after dark, and furnish a carrying party for this from the transport men.

I got together thirty men for this, took both watercarts down to the cross roads in the ruined village of ----[1], filled the dixies there, and I reached the reserve trenches with the first lot about 10.45 p.m. How I wished then that we had come earlier, but we had purposely come about one hour later than the usual time. I found the Doctor in his dug-out doing simply splendid work, and it was from him that I learned the state of affairs--how that so many of the Officers had been killed and so many more wounded. The Sergeant-Major was wrestling with an ammunition party, and they were dropping shells pretty thickly round us.

[1] Festubert.

I arranged with Hamilton that he would go back with the transport and its carrying party, and I would go on and see what I could do to help. It took some time to reach the fire trench, as the communication trench was very crowded with stretcher-cases coming back and wounded being helped back on other men's shoulders, and as you know well, it is very narrow.

I got up at last and found the 8th Liverpool Regiment holding the fire trench, with what was left of our men dotted in between them. I made my way along, asking for Officers of the 6th, but for a long time there was not one to be found. I had passed Stewart on the way going out wounded, but he didn't seem to be badly hit. Then at length I found Ralston and later Campbell and Hay. They seemed to be quite certain that there were no other Officers left except Wishart, who had been badly wounded. A great many of our wounded men were being taken out, and it was a difficult business in so narrow a trench. In some parts stretchers were of little use, and waterproof sheets had to be used instead. We soon came upon Wishart being carried along on a sheet. His face was very pale; I gave him a drink from my water bottle, but I scarcely think he knew me. About 3 a.m. I got the reserve trench on the telephone, and tried to get somebody on the Brigade Staff to speak, but there was no one there except a Major of the Liverpool Regiment, who told me that the Brigade had sent a message that the 6th Scottish Rifles and the 'King's Own' were to reform in the reserve trenches, and were to move out _via_ M 6.

It took some time to get them all collected. I started down the communication trench. Ralston led the way and they went in sections, and I waited until everyone I could find had gone,--all except two wounded men whom I left in charge of a Sergeant and two stretcher-bearers, who brought them out in course of time.

It was about 5 a.m. when I reached the reserve trenches. There I found a Brigade message--this time a written one--waiting for me. It bore the hour 4.37 a.m. 16/6/15, and was as follows--'As many Officers and men of your Battalion as can be collected should be taken back to Le T----,[2] where arrangements are being made for food and rest A.A.A. As two Battalions are remaining as trench garrison, you should not crowd trenches by waiting A.A.A. As soon as small parties are collected they should start at once for Le T----.'[2]

[2] Le Touret.

The Doctor was still sitting in his dugout with the blood stains round about him, in the quiet calmness that has been his strength these days. What a night he had had, and what news of the fate of his friends he had had to: listen to in the midst of the strain of that night's work! The shells had not been few, and some had struck the back of his dug-out, but through it all his devotion to duty was beyond all praise.

He had a specially good word to say for the two stretcher-bearers Craig and Hannah, who had brought out Erskine Hill in the afternoon of the 15th. It had been specially difficult work. Sergeant Hillhouse of 'B' Company died beside the 'aid post,' and we buried him near by. By Companies we marched down the road towards Fes----[3] and the last was clear by 6 a.m.

[3] Festubert.

I went back to the Brigade Headquarters and saw the General and some of his staff and told him as much as I had by this time been able to gather of what had happened in the attack.

The Battalion had done superbly! They did what was required of them; they took what they were told to take; and tried hard to hold it alone.... At last an order came to withdraw; it came from the right, but from whom no one knows. Then they came back--all that was left of them.

'A' Company who went over the parapet first have had the heaviest losses, Murray, Macdonald and Kennedy all killed, McLean's nerves completely shattered, and every Sergeant gone save Downie.

Of the other Companies, Brown killed, J. H. Keith twice buried in shell holes and dug out with shattered nerves, and Capes in much the same condition. Poor Pat Keith killed, Stewart, Brown and Logan all wounded. Young J. B. Wilson killed, Wishart very badly hit, died later, and Major MacKenzie wounded.

Poor Major Shaw! it is so sad about him, Ralston bound up his first wound on the chin, and still he cheered on the men, and got well forward when he was shot dead. Ralston succeeded in getting one of his guns planted right in the German lines, when it was put out of action by shell fire. His other gun under Sergeant Thompson got into difficulties at a ditch, and was splendidly led on by J. B. Wilson, who came across it after being cut off from his own men. Wilson did splendidly in taking that gun forward till he was shot dead. Sergeant Thompson was also killed, and the gun is reported to have been smashed by bombs.

In a field opposite the Transport lines the men were fed and rested, and that same morning before noonday the Companies held their roll-call. Out of the total number of Officers and men who went into the trenches on Sunday night, 13/14th June, exactly half answered their names.

That same afternoon orders came for the Battalion to move back to the same billets at Le C---- M----[4] as had been occupied before the fight. That was Wednesday afternoon.

[4] Le Cornet Malo.

What haunted me most was the thought of those still lying out in front. Another attack had been ordered for Wednesday night, and that made a search party out of the question for that night. The attack took place with much the same result as on Tuesday night. The Battalion that attacked was cut to pieces like one man. On Thursday afternoon I asked permission from the Brigade to take up a party of volunteers to try to bring in wounded. Leave was granted and there was no lack of willing men to go. We set out in the early evening and Ralston and Hay came too. Fifty men had been selected, _i.e._, ten from each Company and ten from Transport, &c.