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Fokker Triplane at Omaka Wanaka 2008 including the fabric cross cut from the Red Baron’s Fokker Triplane after he was shot down. Peter Jackson is a real enthusiast and has given the centre a lot of backing, with life-like displays from Weta Workshop and more planes brought in,” says Fred. “Omaka now have 12 WWI Fokker Triplanes they can put up in the sky, as well as three others of the same era. It’s become the most extraordinary place. Being in the Catalina Club means it’s a preservation thing – it’s good to see old aircraft restored, it’s better to see them fly, but it’s much better to fly in them.” “Fred always loved to fly,” adds Eileen. “He was flying when I met him, but then a wife and four daughters interrupted that. Now we both look forward to airshows, though we haven’t seen much of them, because we’re always in them, busy talking to people. Flying in the Catalina is an addictive experience and so beautiful, like flying over the whales at Kaikoura, with the mountains beyond.” “A lot of our passengers served on Catalinas during the war,” says Fred. “One man paid for all 10 of his descendents to have a ride on the plane, but when it came to the crunch, he couldn’t make himself get on board. He had been shot down on a Catalina.” Z-CAT is one of only two Catalinas in the world that can take passengers (on cost-share flights). The other is in Holland. This Easter, the Catalina stays home and the Bains plan to stay on the ground, set up the deck chairs and lap up the unparalleled sight of the skies over Omaka filled with venerable ‘Knights of the Sky.’ Vampire Jet flown by Brett Emeny USAF galaxy displays Kittyhawk P40 RAAF F-111 RNZAF C130 Hercules 10 Support your local business www.elocal.co.nz NZ Dakota Society DC-3
Maurice Farr of Pukekohe is in the unusual position of being able to say that his father fought in WW1. Private Edgar Farr was a well known identity at Bombay, where Farr Road is named after him and served in France with the Australian Infantry Forces Battalion 13-23 Reinforcements, embarking on December 16, 1916. “My dad fought in the 1914-1918 War” “Dad was 68 when he married mum. She was a herd tester he met on the farm – she was 28. He had been married before but his first wife died and they had no children. He was born in 1886 in Wiltshire, one of a family of 14, leaving school at 10 to make wagon wheels. He later went to Sydney where he had a cousin in the Irish Guards who used to guard convicts. Dad worked in the Outback, droving and as a groom in stables in Portland, Victoria so when he enlisted in the A.I.F. he was in demand for his skills with horses. He embarked on December 16, 1916. Horses were used to haul heavy artillery, ammunition, stores and the army needed men who understood horses and who could handle them when they reacted to shells exploding around them. Dad was a brilliant horseman. “I remember dad telling me when I was a kid that he could have reached out with his rifle and touched a German trench. He also spoke of seeing his mates drowning in mud. He talked about being taught the three ways to kill with a rifle - shot, bayonet or butt. The soldiers were issued with wooden 303 Smiley rifles and Mack 103 Lee-Enfields – they weighed a ton. He had two years active service in France. We think he was at the Battles of Bullecourt or Polygon Wood near Ypres, before he was wounded. He told me he didn’t understand why he had dropped his rifle until his sergeant said to him “you’re off to Blighty, mate.” He had copped a piece of shrapnel in his right arm. After being sent back to Australia he came to New Zealand to work and found his way to Franklin where he got a land allotment on Pinnacle Hill Road and started farming.” Maurice recalls his father as a true gentleman who never swore, was very laid back, never lost his temper and who liked his whisky. A faded photo shows the pair of them on the beach at Kaiaua, a pipe smoking Edgar dressed immaculately in a suit and tie looking fondly down at a blond two year old Maurice. “We both had snowy hair.” “Dad always wore a poppy on Anzac Day and went to the Dawn Parade at Bombay – I still go there – but like many who were in the thick of it, he didn’t talk much about what he went through. He never let anyone waste food and never complained about anything – he would say things like “I’ve slept in worse places.” He was still cutting barberry hedges with a slasher in his 70s. My mother Patricia was in the NZAF during the second war and I was always interested in the army, joining the Territorials when I was 32. Dad died in 1975, when he was 88. I always looked up to and admired my father, and I still do.” Advertising sales 09 239 1699, sales@elocal.co.nz www.elocal.co.nz 11
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