A particularly fine and well-documented Second World War North-West Europe operations M.C. group of seven awarded to Major A. Ritchie, Royal Engineers, a Troop Commander in 6 Assault Regiment whose specially adapted Churchill tanks proved instrumental in the capture of Boulogne in September 1944: equipped with spigot mortars that fired concrete-shattering 40lb. projectiles (a.k.a. “Flying Dustbins”), they were nonetheless vulnerable to the enemy’s much vaunted Panzerfaust - so much so that by the end of his 48-hour M.C. winning exploits, just one of his troop’s six Churchills remained

Military Cross, G.VI.R. reverse officially dated ‘1944’; General Service 1918-62, 1 clasp, Palestine (1869123 Spr., R.E.); 1939-45 Star; France and Germany Star; Defence and War Medals; Army L.S. & G.C., G.VI.R., Regular Army (Capt., M.C., R.E.). mounted as worn, minor contact marks, generally good very fine (7) £2200-2500

M.C. London Gazette 21 December 1944. The original recommendation states:

‘On 17 September 1944, Captain Ritchie was commanding a troop of six Assault Vehicles, Royal Engineers (A.V.R.E.) supporting the North Nova Scotia Highlanders in an attack on “Mount Lambert”, one of the defences of Boulogne. The approach was covered by a large number of enemy weapons in concrete, and the advance was frequently held up by big casualties to the Infantry from shell and automatic fire. Captain Ritchie supported the attack, pressing on despite casualties to his Assault Vehicles and attacked each emplacement in turn with “Petard”, subduing the fire and allowing the Infantry to get forward. By nightfall he had run out of ammunition, but remained with the Infantry half-way up the slope throughout the night under shell and mortar fire. He was replenished in the early hours of 18 September and later went on to attack emplacements with his “Petards”. His troop was now reduced to two Assault Vehicles, but he went on attacking enemy strongpoints until 1900 hours on 18 September, when after the positioned was captured he was relieved. Captain Ritchie’s personal effort and leadership throughout the action, were of a high order, and contributed greatly to the capture of a vital enemy position.’

Andrew Ritchie was born in Colchester in October 1914, the son of a Gordon Highlander who was killed in action just three weeks later. Having attended the Army Technical College at Chepstow in the late 1920s, where he excelled in rugby and boxing, young Andrew joined the Royal Engineers, in which corps he served in Palestine 1936-37.

Commissioned soon after the outbreak of hostilities, he remained employed in the U.K., where he was appointed a Troop Commander in 6 Assault Regiment, R.E., a component of the 79th Armoured Division, 2 (Canadian) Corps, on the eve of the Normandy invasion. As such, he had command of six Assault Vehicles, Royal Engineers (A.V.R.E.), in fact Churchill tanks fitted with a spigot mortar called a “Petard”, which fired a 40lb. demolition charge specially designed to shatter concrete over a distance of 80 yards - a charge nicknamed by A.V.R.E. crew as the “Flying Dustbin”. Thus equipped, Ritchie’s troop landed on D-Day, but as described above, it was for his subsequent part in the assault on Boulogne that he won his M.C.

As confirmed by his own account of the proceedings on the 17-18 September, his troop quickly suffered fatalities, his Second-in-Command’s tank being hit by three rounds from a Panzerfaust, killing four of the six man crew - ‘these were vicious little rockets fired by the enemy infantry. When they struck a tank they punched a hole no thicker than a pencil through the armour and poured in fire and steel fragments more deadly than any shell.’ One of his Sergeant’s tanks was also put out of action in this firefight, but his four remaining Churchills continued on their way, ‘knocking out several gun positions in pill-boxes and destroying many houses’, and thereby enabling the Canadians to continue their advance to “Mount Lambert”. The slopes of the latter feature were heavily defended by a series of concrete gun emplacements, each connected by underground tunnels, and in the ensuing action two more of Ritchie’s tanks were knocked out - one to a Panzerfaust and the other to a mine. Nonetheless, he insisted on remaining in position overnight, under constant shell and mortar fire, until fresh ammunition could be brought up in the morning, at which stage he went forward to meet the Canadian commander to recce the latest enemy positions:

‘He led the way to a communication trench and we crawled along to the end. He cautiously lifted his head and looked over the top and then withdrew to let me have a look. I eased my body up until I could just see over the top of the parapet. Everything appeared very quiet. About 150 yards ahead was a large emplacement with a large gun pointing out of the embrasure and machine-guns each side. A similar strongpoint was situated about 70 yards to its right and the ground was heavily cratered by the bombing. I slid down and told the Canadian that I had seen enough and suggested that my two tanks took on a strongpoint each and hopefully silence the guns. His troops would then follow and then make the final attack on “Mount Lambert”. He agreed and said he would have another quick look at the position in front so that he could finalise his plans. He had only just moved his head up when a single shot rang out and he collapsed back in the trench. A sniper’s bullet had got him straight through the forehead and he was dead before he slumped down.’

Notwithstanding this unhappy interlude, Ritchie went straight into action:

‘It was slow and rough going as the shell holes were quite deep. My gunners fired their machine-guns directly into the embrasure to distract the enemy gunners but I wanted to get a shot in with the “Petard” as quickly as possible. I was peering through the periscope and after climbing out of a shell hole saw the enemy position in front but still out of range. They opened up with their guns and I felt several thuds as we were hit by shots from their big gun but luckily they ricocheted off the curved turret. Our constant machine-gun fire was obviously affecting their accuracy. We started to make better progress and when about 70 yards from the enemy position I told the driver to stop and the “Petard” gunner to aim and fire when ready. He quickly sighted on to the front of the position and I kicked the large lever which fired the “Petard”. We could see the charge flying in an arc through the air and it hit the narrow embrasure dead on - this is what we call “posting a letter”. The gunner reloaded and hit the front again with another shot higher up. Hardly had the noise and dust died down when a hoard of German soldiers rushed out from the back of the emplacement with their hands in the air. I contacted my other tank commander and he said that after he had “petarded” his position the Germans came streaming out to surrender too. I notified the Canadians and they advanced to take prisoners.’

But one more rude shock awaited the gallant Ritchie atop “Mount Lambert”:

‘While I was talking to my C.O. over the radio I felt a terrific thud on the front of the turret and the tank was plunged in darkness. When I jumped out to see what had happened I found a shell, fired from a German 88mm. gun in the port or town, a considerable distance away, had hit the turret and ricocheted off. When we checked the damage we found that the turret was jammed and the whole electrical system out of order.’

Thus, after 48 hours’ fighting, Ritchie’s troop was left with just one operational Churchill. And of his subsequent part in the Commando-led assault on Walcheren on 1 November 1944, a local newspaper reported:

‘Tanks under the command of Captain Ritchie acted as “pathfinders” during the landings on Walcheren Island. Under heavy fire the tanks found themselves pinned on the beaches and faced with a deep enemy minefield holding up progress. The tank crew had already undergone a heavy “stonking” from well placed enemy guns while trying to make an initial landing, and had twice to put back to sea. While the squadron was organising on the beach, Captain Ritchie was told that Churchill tanks would have to act as “pathfinders” for the others which would not be able to negotiate the sand dunes without them. The Churchills moved forward, and when they entered the village of Domberg they found it was held by the enemy, but giving close support to the Marine Commandos, they were able to clear the enemy out of the village and enable the advance to proceed. The O.C. Tanks said: “These men who acted as “pathfinders” in a difficult and delicate operation, deserve high praise for a task which was dangerous but vital if the remaining tanks were to get through.” ’

Ritchie, who was released in the honorary rank of Major in February 1946, was subsequently awarded the L.S. & G.C. Medal (London Gazette 23 May 1952 refers).

Sold with a large quantity of original documentation, much of it contained in a scrapbook, and including the original card requesting ‘Boy Ritchie’ to report to the Recruiting Office, Colchester for his medical, dated 19 December 1927; his 2nd and 1st Class Army Certificates of Education, dated 23 April 1929 and 22 March 1933; assorted ephemera and cuttings from his time in the pre-war Palestine operations 1936-37; Royal Life Saving Society Intermediate Certificate, in the name of ‘Andrew Ritchie, 9th Field Company, R.E.’ and dated July 1937; his handwritten account of the Boulogne operations 17-18 September 1944, together with a typescript of same; an old typescript copy of the recommendation for his M.C., together with congratulatory letters from Major-General Sir Percy Hobart, dated 16 December 1944 (‘I enclose a piece of ribbon which may be useful and which I shall hope to see you wearing when we next meet’), and the C.O., No. 6 Assault Regiment, and a quantity of related newspaper cuttings; several wartime photographs; around a dozen or so invitations and menus for the period 1945-46, several of them bearing autographs; his Officers’ Release Book; War office ‘release from military duty’ letter, dated 6 February 1946, in which he is granted the honorary rank of Major; War office letters forwarding riband for his Defence Medal, dated 4 July 1946, and L.S. & G.C. Medal, dated 18 June 1952; and photographs and press cuttings regarding his subsequent career in the Civil Service, from which he retired in 1978; together with his identity discs and beret.