AND SUCH IS WAR—GRIM WAR.

Gisborne Times, Volume XLV, Issue 3982, 15 July 1915, Page 6

AND SUCH IS WAR—GRIM WAR.

BURIAL AT SEA IN AUSTRALIAN BIGHT.

IMPRESSIVE LETTER FROM TROOPER GEORGE BARTON.

Writing to a friend on “Tiro Gisliorne Times” Trooper George Barton of tlie Field Engineers, says:— On Monday morning, June ‘2l, wo were battling across the great Australian Bight. I say “battling,” for wo wore not able to make more than eight knots owing to the head wind and heavy seas which we had experienced ever since leaving Wellington. We were almost duo south of Adel- ) aide. The bugle had sounded’“stab-' les” (a call very familiar to us by this time) and wo all trooped to the lower deck as it was impossible to fall in on the upper deck owiii" to the heavy seas occasionally breaking over the ship. After roll call and various tasks allotted the order came “all men bar the horse picket fall in on the after deck at 10 a.rn., full dress uniform.” “What is the matter?” could lie heard on all sides. The answer came slowly and impressively, “a burial at sea.” For the first time we learned that a member of the Army Service Corps had died of ptomaine poisoning and an abscess on the brain. At 10 o’clock all hands lined both sides of the after deck. On a table wrapped in canvas and covered with the Union Jack lay the body of Private .J. .1. Herrick. Only a few days previously he had marched out of camp with the rest of us to the cheers of the “Sixth,” the “Trents,” and every man left in Trentham camp, riile on Ills shoulder and sea kit under his arm. in the very best of spirits to light for King and country. Now wrapped' in canvas lay his body about to be committed to the deep. Signals passed to the Managuawi and Tahiti, which were not far away on our port how. Both transports stopped and our vessel soon came to a stop ,-ind rode the waves like a yacht at anchor.

The captain of the ship read a short burial service, the Union .Jack was slightly lifted and the body slid quietIv into the sea, whilst bis comrades forming the bring party fired three volleys and the bugle sounded “The Last Post.” We had paid the last tribute of respect to the memory of our late comrade. It was impressive ■ —very impressive. I am afraid a much more impressive ceremony than many ol those who were standing round will receive. A few afterwards the bugle again sounded “stables” and the men trooped below to continue the cleaning and feeding ol the horses under their care. And such is war—grim war.