“I saw an Italian soldier coming along on a pushbike. He slowed up when he saw me, staring at me very hard. Then he got off his bike and came over to me leaving his rifle on the crossbar. He indicated to me that I was his prisoner and that I had to go back with him to Benghazi. This I had no intention of doing, so we got to wrestling. I got my hands round his throat and strangled him”
Extract from The Phantom Major, by Virginia Cowles.

The important Second World War ‘L Detachment’ M.M. and post-war B.E.M. group of nine awarded to Regimental Sergeant Major E. T. ‘Bob’ Lilley, 22, later 21 Special Air Service Regiment, formerly Coldstream Guards and South Staffordshire Regiment, a member of No. 8 Commando who joined the S.A.S. on its formation as one of Lieutenant Jock Lewis’s legendary ‘Tobruk Four’, whose tactics honed behind the lines at Tobruk were adopted by David Stirling - He was awarded his M.M. for single-handedly strangling an Italian soldier and making good his escape after the raid on Berka Aerodrome in May 1942

Military Medal, G.VI.R. (2660913 L. Sjt., C. Gds.); British Empire Medal, (Military) G.VI.R., 2nd issue (2660913 A/W.O.Cl.1., M.M., S.S.R.); 1939-45 Star; Africa Star, with 8th Army bar; Italy Star; France and Germany Star; War Medal 1939-45, with M.I.D. oak leaf; General Service 1918-62, E.II.R., 1 clasp, Malaya (2660913 W.O.Cl.2., M.M., B.E.M., S.A.S.); Coronation 1953, some contact wear throughout, generally nearly very and better (9) £40000-50000

M.M. London Gazette 26 November 1942.

The following is extracted from the original recommendation for an immediate M.M. which was made by Lieutenant Colonel David Stirling. The recommendation is additionally endorsed ‘Most Secret - Not to be Published’:

‘Lance Sergeant Ernest Thomas Lilley, ‘L’ Det S.A.S. Bde (Coldstream Guards). This NCO was cut off and captured by the enemy when returning from a raid on Berka Aerodrome, in May 1942. Although completely unarmed he subsequently managed to surprise and strangle his guard and to return by himself to the RV. He has distinguished himself by great coolness and calmness in other raids.’

B.E.M. London Gazette 1 January 1952.

The following is extracted from the original recommendation which was made by Lieutenant Colonel A. C. Newman, V.C., Commanding 21st S.A.S. Regiment:

‘RSM Lilley was appointed RSM of this unit in September 1950 and for some considerable time before his appointment was carrying out the duties of acting RSM under difficult circumstances in connection with his taking over the appointment. He weathered this period in an extremely resourceful manner.

RSM Lilley has served with SAS troops since they were first formed in 1941. He has a very distinguished war record and was awarded the Military Medal for outstanding bravery in the field, by this outstanding example he has contributed to a very great extent to the reputation earned by SAS troops during the war.

His name is legendary throughout the Regiment and since taking over RSM of 21st SAS Regiment, his qualities of tact, understanding and unswervable loyalty combined with firmness, have been invaluable in a unit combining the SAS role with the previous traditions of the Artists Rifles and containing ranks representative not only of all corps of the Army but of other services and other countries and including a high proportion of ex officers.

He has carried out the difficult job of RSM to a TA unit magnificently and continues to be an example to all ranks. I strongly recommend that he be awarded the BEM for his outstanding services to the Regiment

M.I.D. London Gazette 13 January 1944 ‘In recognition of gallant and distinguished services in the Middle East.’

Ernest Thomas Lilley was born at Wolverhampton in February 1914. During the Second World War he enlisted into the Coldstream Guards in September 1940 and was one of the founding members of ‘L’ Detachment, having joined from No. 8 Commando in September 1941, as one of the Tobruk four (the others being Pat Riley, DCM, Jim Almonds, MM & Bar & Jim Blakeney) under Lieutenant Jock Lewes, who was killed in December the same year and of whom David Stirling later wrote: ‘Jock could far more genuinely claim to be the founder of the S.A.S. than I’. Post War Lilley continued to serve with the S.A.S., including at least two operational tours in Malaya, his parent unit changing to the South Staffordshire Regiment. Prior to taking his discharge in 1958 he served seven years with 21 Special Air Service Regiment and died in August 1981.

The following is extracted from the book, Daggers Drawn: Second World War Heroes of The SAS and SBS, by Mike Morgan:

‘Former Commando, Sgt Bob Lilley was one of the toughest original members of L Detachment. He possessed an instinctive mastery of the deadly skills of unarmed combat – and was well prepared to use them. He had lightning speed of thought and reactions and the determination and ability to fight harder than any opponent he was likely to meet. As a fully trained Commando, Lilley was intensively schooled in a variety of lethal martial arts, silent killing with the knife and a host of ‘dirty tricks’ moves designed to get a hard pressed SAS raider out of a tight corner. He and his superbly trained fellow SAS original NCOs from the Commandos, including Bennett, Cooper, Rose and Seekings, were among the first volunteers when Sterling formed L Detachment of the SAS. All subsequently won decorations and became experienced veterans who helped train and guide the new recruits in later vital areas of SAS operations.

During a spectacularly successful series of raids along the Axis-dominated coast of North Africa under Jock Lewes and later David Stirling and Paddy Mayne, Lilley helped set the desert ablaze with consistent deeds of bravery, particularly evident during raids at El Agheila, Nofilia, Berka, Tripoli, Fuka and the big Benghazi raid, which was held in conjunction with the major, disastrous raid on Tobruk. The tough and unyielding Commando training that had been so much a part of Lilley’s early Army life was to come to his aid and save his life on one memorably brutal one-to-one occasion, when courage alone was not enough and instinctive fighting skills were all that stood between his return to safety and oblivion.

In June 1942, Stirling was summoned to headquarters in Cairo and ordered to step up his SAS raids and destroy as many enemy warplanes as possible, as the pressure on the key Mediterranean island of Malta was mounting to such an extent that convoy supplies were reaching a critically low level. A further series of co-ordinated raids were planned and unleashed on the Benghazi area, Derna and Barce.

A mainly French SAS party was nearly wiped out by a full German company after being betrayed, despite putting up a fierce resistance, but Stirling’s group wreaked havoc at Benghazi, blowing up numerous aircraft and spare engines in hangars and workshops. Other SAS groups of raiders destroyed more aircraft and stores and inflicted casualties in savage firefights, but were soon hotly pursued by large enemy forces intent on tracking down the British phantoms and annihilating them. A brief passage in Philip Warner’s superb history The Special Air Service makes it abundantly clear that the raiders could not always use their weapons to fight their way out to freedom and that sometimes more sinister, silent methods had to be employed. These unconventional methods were often frowned upon in regular Army circles where a code of chivalry still existed, even in the heat of battle. But behind-the-lines raiders were often forced to live, or die, by different rules. The iron-hard Lilley was one of the prime exponents of this deadly art of self-defence:

In making their exit, the SAS ran into different problems, but one of the most interesting escapes was that of Sergeant Lilley. Looking for a way back, he wandered inside the perimeter of a large German camp. After a short time, he realised that it would be impossible for him to slip unnoticed through the German lines, so he stood up and walked for two miles. He was dirty and no one noticed he was not a German until he met an Italian outside the perimeter; the latter unwisely tried to arrest him but had his neck broken for his trouble. Lilley kept on walking. A dozen miles later, he ran into other members of the expedition and soon after linked up with the LRDG at the appointed rendezvous.

It does not take much imagination to conjure up the primeval, life-or-death struggle that must have taken place in the midst of the enemy encampment, as both men grappled violently for supremacy, the enemy soldier desperately trying to bring his weapons to bear, or shout to his comrades to come quickly to his aid and kill the intruder. Lilley had been surprised literally in the midst of the enemy lion’s den, surrounded by numerous foes. Any alarm raised by the guard would almost certainly have spelt his sudden death, preceded probably by some very unpleasant treatment at the hands of his captors. However, his quick reflexes and deadly Commando training gave him a swift, decisive victory.

As Lilley made his way back to the main SAS group, the reunited raiders should have, at this point, returned to base. However, Stirling and Mayne could not resist going to have a look at the extent of the damage done by their men’s deadly bombing attacks. A truck was borrowed from the LRDG’s Capt Robin Gurdon, as their own transport had been destroyed, and off they sped for a recce. However, the raiders were quickly thwarted in their scheme to view the destruction at close hand as they approached Bernina airfield, near Benghazi, which they had earlier devastated. They were halted abruptly by enemy troops at a road block within a few hundred yards of their goal. They were all in British uniform and the heavily armed guards were turned out, headed by a German NCO brandishing a grenade menacingly in one hand and a pistol in the other. He appeared to become suspicious, even though one of the SAS, a German-speaker, was shouting in German that it was OK to let them through. An impatient Paddy Mayne menacingly cocked his pistol as the guard approached to look into the truck. Immediately, the rest of the SAS in the back readied Tommy guns and grenades for what seemed like a desperate shoot-out. But the startled German NCO abruptly changed his mind and quickly withdrew, deciding correctly that, as he was nearest, he would be the first to die and that his life would be preserved longer if he waved the truck on its way.

The SAS men shot up and bombed a few opportunist targets before they headed back into the desert pursued by what appeared to be a German patrol of trucks or armoured cars. To Mayne, always a fast and at times reckless driver, it was like a red rag to a bull and he floored the accelerator as the LRDG truck attained a speed over rough ground that it had never reached before. At a breakneck rate of knots, the SAS band lost their pursuers and luckily found the wadi they were aiming for, or they could have been helplessly stranded, away from their intended route. Then suddenly, Lilley shouted a desperate warning for everyone to jump out of the truck.

Lilley had detected the distinctive smell and heard the click as acid started to eat through one of their time pencils – not a recommended occurrence as they were still carrying upwards of 40 lb of high explosive. All the raiders jumped out and ran frantically to reach a safe distance away from the truck when, just seconds later, the bomb went up, setting off a tremendous explosion and blowing the borrowed LRDG truck to smithereens. The rest of the journey back to base had to be covered on foot until they met some Senussi Arabs who sent a message to the LRDG, who motored out to collect the dishevelled SAS party, minus, unfortunately, their shiny LRDG truck.

The SAS men returned via the Siwa oasis, with Stirling planning to make amends for the loss of the precious LRDG transport by ordering a gigantic round of drinks for his fellow desert raiders in the bar at the famous Shepheards Hotel in Cairo!’

Sold with a comprehensive archive of original documents and artefacts, comprising:

i. M.I.D. Certificate (Sergeant (A.Q.M.S.), Coldstream Guards, dated 15.1.44); together with enclosure letter.

ii. Specially printed medal entitlement certificate as issued by ‘Paddy’ Mayne at the end of the war to members of 1 S.A.S. and bearing his original signature in ink.

iii. Named certificate thanking Lilley for his part in the Liberation of Norway 8th May 1945.

iv. Certificate of service ‘Red Book’ (2) both of which give his military conduct as ‘exemplary’.

v. Soldier’s Release Book, dated 6 January 1946.

vi. Army Commandos Old Comrades Association membership card.

vii. A small quantity of original photographs.

viii. Four hand written letters written by Lilley to his wife whilst he was serving with 22 Special Air Service Regiment in Malaya, dated 29 May 1957 (3 pages), 11 May 1957 (4 pages), 18 April 1958 (3 pages), 21 April 1958 (3 pages).

ix. A hand written letter to Lilley from David Stirling (two pages) on White’s Club headed paper, undated but envelope franked ‘August 1981’: ‘I am very sorry to hear from Pat Riley that you have had a turn. Recently quite a few friends (during the last 3 or 4 years that is) had a heart attack - provided they obeyed the doctor - regarded it as a working notice to take things easier and are living very full lives and will I suspect survive individuals like me, who have had no such warning...’

x. Eight Army Service of Thanksgiving program.

xi. Army Certificate of Education, First Class, dated 19 March 1953.

xii. National Registration Card and three cancelled passports.

xiii. Corresponding set of miniature medals, lacking 8th Army bar and M.I.D.

xiv. 21st Special Air Service Regiment peaked cap, complete with cap badge, this with moth damage.

xv. Presentation pewter half-pint tankard, engraved with S.A.S. and Artists Rifles badges and further inscribed: ‘R.S.M. E. T. lilley, M.M., B.E.M. 1947-1954 from the Permanent Staff.’

xvi. A brass presentation ornament in the form of a compass, mounted on an oak base on top of which sits a Dinky toy army jeep, the compass inscribed at the four points ‘Rome, Paris, Cairo & Piccadilly’, and to the centre ‘To SSM Bob Lilley, MM, BEM, May 1941 - 31 August 1958 in appreciation - 1 Special Boat Service, 1 Special Air Service, 22 Special Air Service, 21 Special Air Service - Western Desert, Yugoslavia, Greece, Crete, Italy, Sicily, Holland, Belgium, France & Germany’, the compass detached from the base and the jeep in distressed condition.

xvii. Hand painted plaster figure in the form of a WWII period S.A.S trooper, the base inscribed in pen ‘To Bob Lilley, in memory of 21st S.A.S. Regt. (Artists) T.A. and happy days with many friends at Dukes Road, from Brian Gallagher, S.B.S. 1944/5 - Artist Ken Piper 1954 - Xmas 1966’, some minor damage to this piece overall.