In solemn ritual, sailors commit fallen to the deep

ABOARD THE GUNSTON HALL

In the middle of a busy day training off the Virginia coast, about two dozen sailors stop what they're doing, change into their dress whites and gather in the well deck - a cavernous space at the rear of their ship that opens to the sea and the sunlit sky.

Five small metal containers sit on a table, holding the ashes of four men and a woman. The sailors know nothing about them except their name and rank. They've gathered in response to a simple command: "All hands, bury the dead."

Osama bin Laden is perhaps the most famous recipient of a Navy burial at sea. But the ceremony is conducted far more often to honor military veterans, active-duty or retired, and their family members. Civilian mariners from Military Sealift Command also are eligible.

Earlier this week on the Gunston Hall, an amphibious dock landing ship homeported in Virginia Beach, sailors lowered the stern gate and placed a table covered in a royal blue cloth at its edge, a few feet above water frothing in the ship's wake. They set the remains of Chief Petty Officer Marion Tisdom on the table next to a folded American flag.

Cmand Master Chief James Yee and Senior Chief Petty Officer Jason Whiteford stood at attention on either side of the table.

"God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble. Therefore, we will not fear, though the earth do change and though the mountains be shaken into the hearts of the seas," said the chaplain, Lt. Jeff Augustin. "For this is our God forever and ever. He will be our guide, even unto death."

Yee picked up the flag and walked back into the well deck to stand before the ship's commanding officer, Capt. John Meier. They exchanged salutes, and Meier took the flag.

"Unto God Almighty we commend the ashes of Chief Ship's Serviceman Marion Tisdom to the deep, in sure and certain hope of the resurrection unto eternal life, through our Lord Jesus Christ," Augustin continued. "Amen."

Whiteford lifted one end of the table and the container slipped into the waves.

David Harper, a tall, ramrod-straight chief petty officer, called out, "Firing detail, order arms!"

Seven sailors raised their rifles at Harper's command, then fired three shots. The shells clattered to the steel deck.

Through it all, Yee, Meier and the chaplain held their salutes. Taps sounded over two loudspeakers. After the last note played, the ship's second-in-command, Lt. Cmdr. Shawn Bohrer, said, "This concludes the committal of SHC Marion Tisdom. At ease."

For all its ceremony, the service took no more than about 10 minutes.

Because burials are done when ships are under way, relatives and friends cannot attend.

To make up for that, sailors collect the spent shells from the three-volley salute to be sent to the family along with the flag from the service and a nautical chart marking the location of the burial. Meier also sends a note.

"It's very distant, but it's very meaningful," said Augustin, the chaplain. "You definitely see the personal side of the Navy.... We're constantly go, go, go, do this, do that. But to stop and pause and watch the casket of someone go off... I think it's a necessary tradition."

Meredith Kruse, (757) 446-2164, meredith.kruse@pilotonline.com