Places > Book of remembrance for Tweeddale > Burgh and Parish of Peebles

BURGH AND PARISH OF PEEBLES. 3 1 7
256. private fl^war£> (Srabam vBorman.
General Service flDe&al.
Hiring Service Corps.
1918 — December 18.
GRAHAM GORMAN was born in Peebles, and educated at Kingsland
School. Thereafter he spent a short time in March Street Mills as an
apprentice at tweed manufacture. But his inclination lay toward
engineering; so after an interval he departed for Edinburgh and took
up motoring. He became proficient in time; thenceforward cars and
their mechanism formed both his vocation and his hobby. His first
situation was with Dr Gimn at Peebles, where for a considerable period
he drove the car with the Doctor and himself, by night and by day,
in summer and winter, along the main roads and hill-roads of
Tweeddale. For a short time thereafter he assisted a brother-in-law
on his farm in Essex ; but when the war broke out in 1914 Graham
Gorman heard the call, and hastened to place his experience and
skill in motoring at the service of his country. He was employed in
France during the whole period of his enlistment, and was seldom out
of the danger zones, conveying officers in cars to the front. He
received the 1914-15 Star, and for his services was awarded the
General Service Medal. He experienced many risks, and underwent
much exposure. From his most serious accident, when his car by
night disappeared into a deep shell crater, he never fully recovered.
The hardships he had gone through weakened his constitution and
opened the door 10 serious infection. He returned home to Peebles in
bad health, where he was affectionately nursed by his sister, Mrs
Hunter, Oak Cottage, Old Town, whose husband had already lost two
gallant sons in the war. He bore his prolonged sufferings silently
and bravely, and the end for this world came on the 18th December
1918. The following hymn pleased him much in his latter days: —
Brother, now thy toils are o'er,
Fought the battle, won the crown,
On life's rough and barren shore
Thou hast laid thy burden down :
Grant him, Lord, eternal rest
With the spirits of the blest.
Angels bear thee to the land
Where the towers of Sion rise,
Safely lead thee by the hand
To the fields of Paradise.
Grant him, Lord, eternal rest
With the spirits of the blest.