TO THE BOYS WHO HAVE STAYED AT HOME

Evening Post, Volume XC, Issue 38, 13 August 1915, Page 4

TO THE BOYS WHO HAVE STAYED AT HOME

' A CALL FROM A DECEASED SOLDIER. Mr. and Mrs.' R. C. Kirk have received a further cable that their son, Gunner Edward Richmond Kirk. No. 2 Battery, Field Artillery, died on the hospital ship Siciha fend was buried at sea on 21st July. ' The laite gunner was always keen on guns and soldiering, and began military duties in tho Wellington College Cadets, being the lieutenant of a winning squad in musketry exorcise competition. At the inauguration of the Territorial movement he joined the Petono Navals, of which his father, Major Kirk, was for years commander In that company ho was a very keen gunlayer aud declined offers of promotion as an officer, preferring to serve and lay his gun. At the outbreak of war he went at once with the com pany to the forts and remained on duty till five days before the First Expeditionary Force sailed, when there being a vacancy in tho Field Artillery, he jumped at the offered chance of enlisting, with the full consent of his parents, who were proud to let- him go. He is the first of the Petone Navals to lose his life in this war. As a good French scholar he had a great time in Cairo (where that language is universal), as evidenced by his 'interesting letters, and there passed further examinations, specially in gun-laying. A characteristic letter from him, dated 14th June, and written in his " dug-out ", in GaJlipoli behind his gun, was received this week, three weeks after his death from typhoid. While describing his surroundings with a soldier's humour, it contains pointed references to those who have stayed behind and should go. This gunner was a keen motor-cyclist, golfer, and tennis player. How many sports will answer the dead boy's call and help take Constantinople ? GUNNER KIRK ON GALLIPOLI. . Tll e letter (omitting family references) is as follows :— ' „,. "Monday, 14th June, 1915. My Dear Mother,— We were lucky to-day, and got a sheet of paper and an envelope each, so I am writing straight away. Not, mind you, that I have anything to write about. It is hot and the flies are fearful. How's that for an interesting item? "You just^ ought to see me now. lm as brown as a berry (all over), and very fit indeed. One of our favourite occupations here is planning dinners. Another fellow and I plan some most gorgeous repasts. We imagine— excuse the break, but a thumping big shell has just gone over our heads— that we are in Cairo for the evening with plenty of money, and plan some most astonishing dinners. Wo had bread again to-day— that' s the second time in ten weeks. "I couldn't help noticing a good many fellows in that photo, of the golf crowd that ought to be here breaking their teeth on biscuits: When we get back to real meals again, everybody that didn t come will gaze in wonderment and envy at the mess wo shall make of them. It is really rather a disti-acting place to write; there is a miserable brute of a gun just behind us that will persist in firing, and it makes a most irritating noise. Yesterday they lugged another one up, and it is a case of ' hold your cap on' when she coughs. The whole show leaves much to be desired in the way of peace and quiet. " As an offset to the flies and all the things, both large and small, that fly in the ait' here, we find excellent relaxation in swimming. I have only missed one day in three weeks, and then it wasn't the flies that stopped me — it was the other things. They have quite a variety of names. Lizzies, Willies, Baby Bliss, ' and lots of others that are. not considered quito polite. This applies especially to the names that have been given by the Australians, who show quite marked ability in giving names to things; but even if I didn't mind repeating the names myself, there is Monsieur le Censeur. "It is really astonishing what a lot of live things there are in this place. Lovely bumble bees nearly as big as a ping-pong ball, and ants that carry immense weights with consummate ease. It is quite a common thing to see one carrying a whacking big blue-bottle that he has slain, and I saw one trying to tako a burning cigarette end Rome for firewood. I have just been having ago with one who has an insatiable curiosity to know what lam writing about. I flicked him off three times, and then he came back again, so I simply had to finish him. Wo had a most diviuo tortoise for a while, but he escaped out of our am-, munition pit. We called him Horace Senior. Horace Junior was a large lizai'd we had in Zeitoun. Tortoises are quite tame round here, and they'll even let you stroke tHem, but it is not a, very pleasant operation. Then one fellow got a snako four feet long yesterday, and pulled his fangs out with a pair of pliers —after he had killed him, of course. There is another insect here — though I'm sure they wouldn't like to be called by that name— that are becoming quite fashionable as hat badges. Thoy arc like an Egyptian scarab, only twice as large. All the best people use them. 1 am going to bring home a selection of the inhabitants of this place, and keep them in the pantry. I'm afraid, though, that the snake and our vats wouldn't mix very well. Of course, there are lots of little ants, too ; most of them live in my jam. Oh ! I'm sure you'd love this place. I want to make my bed now, but some of my flics have got in ahead of mo, so I suppose I'll have to sleep outside. " I wish you'd have a dinner party some time and invite all the boys who stayed at home. . . 4 'J.