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War Memorial
Australia

Eric Tate was well known in the district as an accomplished sportsman and an excellent judge of livestock. The Tate family ran the “Oakdale” estate in the Valley and rightly were regarded as district pioneers. They featured their dairy cattle regularly and successfully at many agricultural shows including the Royal Easter Show. He was engaged to Miss Florrie Evans at the time.

He was 23 years of age, the son of (late) George and Emma Tate. A tall man at 5 feet 11 inches (1.8m) he was bound to become known as “Longun” and “Lofty”.

Eric enlisted at Kangaroo Valley on 17 August 1915 and went into the Liverpool Camp for basic training. His first months included a spell in hospital thanks to a bout of the measles. The Army lost track of him during this spell in hospital and duly reported him as a deserter, Eric making the NSW Police Gazette before it was sorted out.

Eric also began his letter writing here and often wrote home with care and interest on farm matters and the prospects of their stock at the upcoming shows.

He embarked on the HMAT Euripides on 2 November 1915 from Sydney along with Tom Brooks, Fred Wright, Bill Mathers and Bill Walker. His older brother George had taken the trouble of hiring a motor launch to circle the Euripides the evening before their departure but Eric was unaware of this gesture. Bill Mathers had seen them.

At sea Eric proved a good sailor, not experiencing any of the effects of seasickness. However the other Valley boys had been going at it hard. Eric made matters worse by relishing the onboard menu of rabbit, bacon, lambs fry and plum duff.

Their passage to Egypt was eventful according to Eric’s many letters to home. He contracted mumps while onboard and spent his 24th birthday in hospital at Suez. He was nonetheless enjoying the work and company in camp and by 8 December wrote that he had put on one stone (6 kilograms) since recruitment.

Eric recognised that Kangaroo Valley was a small community where news spread quickly to all homes and families. Accordingly he took the opportunity in every letter to mention others:
“Phil Lid [Lidbetter] and Cox have landed.”
“Walker and Raw have both gone with mumps …”
“Brooks is still serving his time…”
“Bung (William Mathers)… says he was never better in his life.”
“Bung, Wright and Raw have taken a move.”
“I saw Cox and Phil on Sunday.”

He also sent home a photo of himself and four of his tent mates from Cairo on 18 December 1915.

While in Egypt the troops were all to receive Christmas Billies from patriotic donors in Australia. Eric had received his package from a Queensland woman Corinne Watt Dalby who had made a request of Eric in her enclosed note. Eric wondered that she wasn’t:
“ … a bloodthirsty little wretch as she had a note enclosed requesting who got it to take her back a Turk’s scalp.”

While in camp Eric was assigned to the “A” Coy of the 20th Battalion. The battalion subsequently was mobilised in early March and boarded the HMT Ingoma at Alexandria bound for France, disembarking at Marseilles on 25 March 1916. He was at the front the next week.

Eric’s first night in the trenches on 4 April at Bois Grenier passed quietly but the next day started a pattern of constant shelling and daily casualties. 5 May was most memorable, with Eric writing:
“It was simply hell let loose for two and a half hours. Brooks and I were on the same post and neither of us feel any the worse for our experience.”

This was no exaggeration. The Gallipoli men amongst the 20th openly admitted they had never been through anything as severe while on the Peninsula.

As extreme as this experience was the 20th had yet to be thrown into a major offensive. This was not to last, and Eric wrote to his brother George on 2 July 1916:
“ … we have orders to be ready to march off in 12 hours and as big things [the Battle of the Somme] have just about started along the British front I expect by the time you get this I will have been through some pretty stiff work.”

It was almost 6 weeks before he wrote again. The 20th was moved into the Somme sector in early July in preparation for the Pozières offensive. Eric went over the top at 0321hrs on the morning of 26 July and in his words got to their objectives “in a canter” despite being shelled for a time by their own artillery. But holding the Pozières gains was always said to have been more arduous than the taking. Enemy artillery smashed the Australian trenches for weeks and Eric was buried several times and knocked unconscious by flying debris. His encounters with the Germans troops during these advances were savage, the Australian bayonet work being especially brutal.

His letter to George on 11 August was lengthy and chronicled the Pozières attack, the thrill of survival, and the bitter cost:
“… I have been through a lot of what they say is the hottest fighting ever in France. I am not able to say where I have been, but I guess you’ll be able to make a guess at our position from the papers.
“… I met a chap out of the 2nd Batt and he had seen Bung [William Mathers] and Fred Wright that morning and they were going strong ..”

Eric felt the loss of his mate Tom Brooks:
“ No doubt … you’ll have heard of poor Tom Brooks’ fate. We were to charge at midnight on the 28th July. Well we were out in No Man’s Land … when the Huns got sight of us and the next thing we got their artillery fire …. Well we got a bit mixed up and Tom and I got separated. A friend of ours ... was in the same shell hole with Tom ... when a shell came and killed him instantly.”

Tom’s death also struck Eric as being for nought:
”Well so much for the attack. It was a failure …”

He described now how a German shell had smashed into the trench, killing two and burying him. Dug out ten minutes later he was then knocked out by a flying sandbag. Optimistically he wrote:
“I am none the worse for the experience, so I reckon I am meant to get back again.”

Pozières had shown Eric the savagery and human cost of modern warfare and the tone of his letters began to reflect this harsh learning:
“Well old boy … I think there will be a hell of a big change in the war during the next couple of months and of course a hell of a lot of slaughter.”

He had by now also learnt of the wounding of Bill Mathers and Fred Wright at Pozières and seemed to become fatalistic about his chances in this war:
“Well old cock what do you think of the war now and when is it going to finish.
It certainly is quite amusing to be soldiering. We have had a pretty good fly at the game now and have been through a charge, but we still have the same old game every time …”

By September Eric reported that the battalion was in a much quieter sector [Ypres] and was not unhappy that the approach of winter would make further attacks unlikely. His appointment as Lance Corporal had been confirmed. Several of the Valley boys were in close proximity and he wrote:
“I saw G. [George] Randall a few days ago. He is tip top and had seen W. [Bill] Cox a week or so ago.”

At home the first conscription vote was being put to the Australian public and Eric offered little chance of its success, writing to his brother George:
“I think they’ll get a shock when they count the votes from the infantry boys here. Judging by our own crowd I think there will be very few in favour over here.”
In the field the continuous rain was causing the trenches to collapse and fill with water and knee deep mud. This freezing winter of 1916 now began to take its toll on Eric as he suffered tonsillitis in October 1916. His visit to the Field Ambulance also exposed him to the German measles and he was admitted to hospital:
“.. waiting for all the germs to blow off me.”

Ready to leave five days later his departure was further delayed when another man in the ward went down with the infection. Eric wasn’t overly distressed describing this as:
“… easy time.” While enjoying the comfortable bed, food and the evening stout ration Eric took the time to write Tom Brooks’ father Alf with the sad details of Tom’s passing.

The conditions in the trenches at Montauban were now intolerable with daily evacuations to hospital. He wrote his mother on 8 December:
“The continual cold and wet weather here now has made the trenches harder to put up with than the Fritz himself is.”

It is no surprise that he was one of five evacuated from the line on 26 December 1916 with trench feet and shipped to the 1st Southern General Hospital at Birmingham.

Any such “blighty” leave was welcome to the troops and Eric was soon of a mind that he would stay at this hospital until he was kicked out. A piano was banging away in the next ward, the nurses were easy on the eye, and the meat and vegetables diet was streaks better than anything in the field.

His lengthy letter on 30 January 1917 was an opportunity to more openly share many of his experiences as the censorship of mail was not as strict in England:
“.. it is practically an impossibility for anyone to live through the hell of our artillery fire”
“.. it will be pretty lively work digging him [Germans] out.”
“I’ve changed my opinion of the Tommie … they are certainly cool and game fighters.”
“.. the daddies of the lot are the Scotties and they think a hell of a lot of us and would rather have us joining them in the line than the English.”
“Tommie takes too many prisoners for Jock’s liking. If Jock gets hold of them they have a bad habit of dying from exhaustion as they are passed back.”
“.. the French people … and they are a robbing lot of buggers with special prices for the Australians and I even know them to take the handles off the pumps when they see us come into town, so we won’t get a drink of water.”

Recovery in England took almost five months with the later time spent at the Dartford Convalescent Hospital and Perham Downs. Despite being granted two weeks furlough after discharge from Dartford the A.I.F. charged Tate with being AWOL when he dutifully presented himself at Perham Downs on 19 March. During these two weeks he had gone out to farms in Scotland and visited the best of the milking shorthorn breeders in England. He was, after all, a farmer. He was due for court martial on the alleged offence until the approval of the furlough was confirmed. Chastened by the slight he took a day of overtime two weeks later, copping a reprimand and two days forfeiture of pay.

Eric knew that the war had some time to run yet and was willing to admit that he:
“..was beginning to feel like another bit of a scrap with Fritz.”

Eric had been a Lance Corporal since May 1916 and on his return to the battalion in early May was made Corporal. Perversely this promotion was the consequence of the death of his best friend Cpl. Ted Smith. A further promotion to full Sergeant was confirmed in August 1917.

He took the opportunity to record the promotion in a photograph sent home. The stress and fatigue of two years of war shows in his eyes.

He was happy for the good weather and to meet Bert Parrish and Mark Fleming while at Perham Downs. His long letters home now focussed on “Oakdale” and the breeding stock, but frequently reflected on the losses that this war was inflicting on the Valley. He took an almost paternal tone when he wrote on 8 August:
“I saw Kenny from Berry yesterday. He is in the 45th and told me Jack Huxley and Jim Gordon had been killed and Bill Lid. wounded. My word the Valley boys are being cut about. It seems a shame that such young boys as Huxley, Gordon and the Scots should be sent here.
I don’t think they are nearly old enough in the head for this game.”

Active service on the western front was the Devil’s lottery. The 20th Battalion “A” Company Operations Report for 29 September to 10 October details the confluence of planning and circumstance that brought about Eric’s death:
“We moved over to the left side of Daring Crossing … we were to support an attack made by the 18th and 19th Battalions.
At 1pm on the 9th we received word that we were to attack in place of the 18th and 19th.
Zero was 5.20am. At 5.16am the preliminary bombardment started. It was supposed to fall 400 yards in front of the tape but instead fell on them. At 5.20am the Company moved forward… Hereabouts Lt McGill was badly wounded and we also lost Sgts. Wheate and Tate killed.”

Prophetically Eric had written home to his family on 11 August 1917 of action during the earlier Pozières fighting:
“The trouble is the shells, no man can fight them.”

A fellow soldier in the same trench had later related:
“Poor old Tate, I left him back there, a shell got him and knocked him out.”

So severe was the campaign on the 20th Battalion that the already depleted “A” Company returned to Ypres after 10 October with 1 Officer, 1 NCO and four men. It had entered the action with 50 officers and men.
Charles Bean’s Official History of the A.I.F. in the War of 1914-1918 account of the action records at pp892:
“The 20th Battalion, which was not originally to have taken part, had brought in most of its junior officers to give them experience. Immediately after the start, part of the barrage seemed to shorten or to remain stationary, and the 20th found itself beneath it, and suffered loss. The line also came under deadly enfilade from a German post firing across the railway from the first objective of the 66th Division. Many casualties were suffered.”

Eric’s name appears in the footnotes of this page as being one of the losses to this action. On the account above he was only there as a spectator, and worse may have been killed by friendly fire.

From the time of his entry into the war Eric was recognised as a fine and respected soldier and at the time of his death was due to receive his field commission to Second Lieutenant.

Sgt. Herbert Inman wrote to Eric’s mother soon after his death:
“This war has claimed some fine men, but not one better than your son, and his death has cast a gloom over all of us who are left.”

Passchendaele was widely regarded as hell on earth, and was to take the lives of Peter Scott, Fred Wright and Eric Tate from the Valley. Eric’s body was lost to the earth and so he has no known grave. His name appears on the Menin Gate Memorial at Ypres with three others of the Valley Boys – James Gordon, Jack Huxley and Peter Scott.

His death had a profound effect at home.
His (late) pioneer father George had founded the historic Shorthorn milking herd at “Oakdale” in 1860 and by the turn of the century this bloodline had found its way into most of the herds in the State. Eric’s death precipitated the break-up of the 500 acre farm on 14 April 1920 and the sale of its valuable stock. His mother Emma had managed the farm until her death in September 1919 after which family members instructed the executor to sell. Buyers from all States and as far away as South Africa paid record prices for the 230 cows and 37 bulls.

In its 11 January 1918 copy The Nowra Leader offered its deepest sympathies to Florrie “in the sad trial that is hers.”
Eric, until now listed as missing, had been confirmed as killed in action.

Eric’s story later made press in the first edition of the Australian War Memorial publication Wartime, in November 1997. His death at Passchendaele likely qualified the article as this corner of Belgium has been a byword for incompetent military planning and senseless slaughter ever since.

Copies of the text of some 36 letters and postcards written by Eric Tate during his war service are held at the Australian War Memorial, Canberra. The following are excerpts from his letters that variously demonstrate the brutality and senselessness of war and the bravery, conviction and strength of the fighting men. Certain passages from these letters are included below and are best read as they are written, without the interpretation or comment of another author.

I am going away feeling well and I always feel that I am going to see things through and get back again.
At sea, 8 November 1915

The people over here would make you burst your sides with laughter and they all seem to be darned robbers and I think they are the most dirty crowd on earth.
Suez 1 December 1915.

Here I am on the firing line with a whole skin once more. ..On Friday night the 5th it was anything but quiet. It was simply hell let loose for two and a half hours. Brooks and I were on the same post and neither of us feel any the worse for our experience. The Gallipoli boys all admit that they never went through anything near so severe while they were on the Pen [peninsula].
France 9 May 1916.

We were to take their second line. Well we got there in a canter and went to buggery over it and I think could have been going yet had it not been for own artillery getting on to us on account of us advancing further than we were s’posed to …Well you have heard a lot about the Huns as fighters. The (word deleted) won’t fight. If you can get within bayonet distance of them they’ll drop their rifles and throw their hands up crying for mercy (some of ’em get it).
France 11 August 1916 re Pozières.

One shell that killed two and wounded a third buried me. I had been dug out about 10 minutes when another one got the parapet and smacked me in the jaw with a sandbag and outed me, but here I am none the worse for the experience, so I reckon I’m meant to get back again.
France 11 August 1916 re Pozières.

Well old cock what do you think of the war now and when is it going to finish? It certainly is rather amusing to be soldiering. We have had a pretty good fly at the game now.
Belgium 8 September 1916.

We had our vote on the conscription question the other day. … I think all the boys will be against it. If conscription is carried out and any of the boys have to come they want to get in anything but the infantry.
France 21 October 1916.

I’ve changed my opinion of the Tommies … they are certainly cool and game fighters, but the daddies of the lot are the Scotties [Scottish troops] and they think a hell of a lot of us. Tommie takes too many prisoners for Jock’s liking. If a Jock gets hold of them they have a bad habit of dying from exhaustion as they are passed back.
France 29 October 1916.