Monty and Harry Tate

‘Blast!’ Monty cursed when he realised he would have to take his ’arry Tate down! They were well behind enemy lines and after reading the pilots’ notes on the R.E.8, he knew the front main thrust bearing must be lubricated or he and Buck, his observer, wouldn’t make it back to the British lines! Despite the disparaging talk about the biplane, Monty was quite happy, even thrilled to be flying it. He knew pilots mocked it in rhyming slang, naming it after the music hall comedian, he knew too they called it ‘an incinerator of pilots’ or a ‘flying steamroller’, but Monty had always been a cocky bugger, full of the confidence of youth. He also possessed an uncommon aptitude for flying.

Kiwi-born Monty, was brought up on a cropping farm at Leeston, where his father had patiently instructed him in the art of mechanicing, about the need for thorough machinery maintenance including lubrication, the key to keeping machinery operating smoothly. Monty had spent hours in his father’s workshop, tinkering with motors. At the outbreak of war in Europe, he went along to enlist. The enlisting sergeant happened to come from the nearby settlement of Lincoln, and had his traction engine maintained by Monty’s father. So in no time, Monty found himself along with his toolkit, fixing airplanes based at Brooklands airfield in Surrey.

Unsurprisingly, Monty itched to fly one the magnificent machines he spent so many hours doctoring – he just wanted to have a go. One frosty, moonlit night, after too many pints and a ten bob bet with his new mate, Buckley, he took off in a newly repaired Sopwith! He wobbled in the air until he figured out how to handle the machine and then flew around the county in a clockwise direction, not knowing anything about navigation! Unfortunately he couldn’t quite work out the lie of the land or exactly where the landing strip was, so decided it was best to put down in a flattish field in preference to running out of fuel in mid-air! Morning revealed he hadn’t missed by much, he was only short by about a mile. Of course the CO was ropable about the missing airplane and Monty’s role in its disappearance, but in the cold light of day he had to be impressed with Monty’s ability to fly and land at night. They were desperate for pilots, and young Monty looked to be a good’un, so after just a week’s training he was shipped to France, to be based at Vert Galand.  

Monty flew his first reconnaissance mission above the Hun line and received two bullets through his left wing for his efforts! The danger charged him with adrenalin and cockily, he flew low over the enemy hoping it was his best chance of not being hit. The trouble was, flying low didn’t give him enough of a perspective to provide any useful intelligence to the commanders on the ground. The debrief turned out to be a disaster, and Monty was tuned up,  but he managed to point out that flying the airplane over enemy territory was a task on its own, he told them he was lucky there were no enemy airplanes to harass him, next time could be different. He suggested that a two-seater would be ideal so he could take an observer with him. But he received only stern looks and bottom lips up.

After three more successful missions Monty had identified where the enemy artillery were positioned, where machine gun pillboxes were placed and on the last he was able to inform the commanders that the Hun were bringing up reinforcements from the North and East. It was on that fourth mission that he encountered his first enemy airplane! It was a triplane with a gunner! All Monty carried was his service revolver! The triplane swept down from above and came alongside the surprised Monty, positioning, so the gunner could fire on him! He glimpsed its approach and in pure reflex, swung his craft hard left and dived hoping the bullets would pass above him! They did! The triplane seemed not to be very manoeuvrable, and by the time he had turned for another run at him, Monty had full-throttled towards base.

Two days later, the ‘Harry Tate’ arrived! The smiling CO told Monty to take it for a spin, maybe circle a couple of times over the base. This airplane seemed somehow heavier than the Sopwith, but he soon got the hang of it feeling excited and reasonably comfortable. He couldn’t resist passing low over the watching CO! Back in the CO’s tent, Monty was pleased to see Buckley standing there, grinning like a ninny! They shook hands warmly and the CO explained that Buck was to be Monty’s observer, but unfortunately they were still waiting for the machine gun to arrive due to some clerical hiccup! Meantime, in response to reported Hun activity to the Northwest, he wanted the pair to fly a reconnaissance at first light. Monty spoke to the mechanic after the meeting to discuss the quirks of the R.E.8 and he checked her over. He took the clipboard of pilots’ notes to his bunk that night.

There was low cloud the next morning, perfect cover for Monty and Buck as they flew in a Northwest heading. Monty wanted to gain height before they crossed the enemy front line, and as far as they were aware no shots were directed towards them, there was no sign they had been sighted! Despite a thorough and prolonged search, the pair saw no extraordinary Hun activity other than two small foot patrols, so Monty tapped his fuel gauge and turned to head back to base.

As he banked the ’arry Tate to turn South, a slight change in the pitch of the engine alerted him! The main front thrust bearing was dodgy, which is why he took the decision to land in the field below. There had been no sign of the Hun close by, so he signalled his intention to Buck who thumb-up acknowledgement. It was a bumpy landing but once on the ground, Buck took the chance to dump last evening’s macaroni cheese under the hedge on the Northerly boundary of the field! He’s been uncomfortable for the last hour!

Monty had completed his procedure, and as he turned to stow his equipment he spotted seven or eight German soldiers running toward him! They had been asleep in a nearby barn and were alerted by the sound of the airplane. Buck was too far away for Monty to wait, besides his trousers were still around his ankles! Anyway, perhaps the soldiers hadn’t noticed him! Monty taxied toward the Southern hedge, hopped over it and waited, idling in the centre of the next field. Like the Keystone Cops, the soldiers came running probably planning to capture his airplane! When the soldiers were within thirty or so yards, Monty again opened the throttle and taxied to the next hedge and hopped over it. The soldiers’ Keystone-esk routine seemed to be wearing them out, their legs weren’t pumping as fast. This time Monty saw three of them unsling their rifles and kneel to shoot, so he quickly taxied off and hopped the next hedge. He stopped again, tempting them.

When the first of the soldiers appeared through the hedge behind him, Monty took off and in a sweeping turn he returned to pick up Buck, who hurriedly and twice relieved, climbed aboard and settled in. As they flew over the soldiers, Monty waved his wings at them in mock salute! All of them were lying on their backs, apparently too exhausted to lift their rifles. Buck said later that some were shaking their fists!