“One day during our visit I was taking Harry to see the grave of his only child, Capt. John Lauder, of the Argyle and Sutherland Highlanders, as fine a lad as ever wore a kilt, and as good and brave a son as ever a father loved. As we were motoring swiftly along we turned into the town of Albert and the first sharp glance at the cathedral showed the falling Madonna and Child. It was a startling and arresting sight, and we got out to have a good look. The building is crowned by a statue of Mary holding out the child Jesus to the world; a German shell had struck its base and it fell over, not to the ground, however, but at an acute angle out over the street. “While we lingered, a bunch of soldiers came marching through, dusty and tired. Lauder asked the officer to halt his men for a rest and he would sing to them. I could see that they were loath to believe it was the real Lauder until he began to sing. “Then the doubts vanished and they abandoned themselves to the full enjoyment of this very unexpected pleasure. When the singsong began the audience would number about two hundred; at the finish of it easily more than two thousand soldiers cheered him on his way. “It was a strange send-off on the way that led to a grave—the grave of a father’s fondest hopes—but so it was. A little way up the Bapaume road the car stopped and we clambered the embankment and away over the shell-torn field of Courcelette. Here and there we passed a little cross which marked the grave of some unknown hero; all that was written was ‘A British Soldier.’ He spoke in a low voice of the hope-hungry hearts behind all those at home. Now we climbed a little ridge and here a cemetery and in the first row facing the battlefield the cross on Lauder’s boy’s resting-place. “The father leaned over the grave to read what was written there. He knelt down; indeed, he lay upon the grave and clutched it, the while his body shook with the grief he felt. “When the storm had spent itself he rose and prayed: ‘O God, that I could have but one request. It would be that I might embrace my laddie just this once and thank him for what he has done for his country and humanity.’ “That was all, not a word of bitterness or complaint. “On the way down the hill I suggested gently that the stress of such an hour made further song that day impossible. “But Lauder’s heart is big and British. Turning to me with a flash in his eye he said: ‘George, I must be brave; my boy is watching and all the other boys are waiting. I will sing to them this afternoon though my heart break!’ Off we went again to another division of Scottish troops.