A Letter from Sling.

Levin Daily Chronicle, 13 February 1917, Page 4

A Letter from Sling.

FIR/OM AX EX-LEVIN RESIDENT. The following is au extract from a letter received last week by Miss E. Lovejoy from her cousin, Private I l ', T. Lovejoy, who left New Zealand with the 18th [Reinforcements: —"We had a very nan-ow escape at sea, a native transport that was six or seven miles away from us was sunk by a German raider. Subsequently the German raider was sunk by a French cruiser. Very soon after that we received a wireless message to call at the neaerst port for safety which happened to be . So now we are safo at Sling Oamp in 'England. He also send the following verses: — SLING GAMP WILTS. Of all worst places God l hath made Or human feet had ever strayed, I speak the truth, I'm not afraid — It's Sling. ; It is no place to laze or lurk, j Your duties there you cannot shirk, ' From morn to eve it's naught but \ work— j It's Sling. You cannot see a house for miles, No cats are prowling on the tiles, There's neither hedges, gates, nor stiles— At. Sling. There is no climbing bedroom stairs. The beds axe single, not in pairs, And sometimes e'en a soldier swears— At Sling. There is no church wherein to pray Or sing "The Green Hill Far Away," All we, like sheep, have gone astray,— At Sling. There are no clubs or music halls, There are no : shops or market stalls, But when it i-ains, the water falls, — At Sling. ( There is no German sausage here, Nfo "Black and White," no Allsopp's Beer, / It makes you feel so dull and queer— At Sling. There are no girls to catch your eye, To give a kiss upon the sly. For them y-ou have to pine and die, — At Sling. There are no gardens for the spud, There are no roads, it's only mud: It's either wind, or rain or flood. At Sling. Oh! could I sling my hook from here; Enraptured would my heart appear, For thee I would not shed one tear— Oh I Sling!