Orders, Decorations and Medals

A superb Second World War fall of Singapore operations D.S.M. group of six awarded to Stoker P. A. H. Dunne, Royal Navy, for a motor launch versus Japanese destroyer action of “Li Wo” proportions: few escaped the resultant carnage inflicted by several point-blank hits on H.M.M.L. 311’s hull and upper deck - and those that did had to endure over four years as a P.O.W. of the Japanese, the wounded Dunne among them

Distinguished Service Medal, G.VI.R. (Sto. P. A. H. Dunne, P/KX 132616); 1939-45 Star; Atlantic Star; Pacific Star; Defence and War Medals, mounted as worn, minor contact marks, good very fine or better (6) £4000-5000

D.S.M. London Gazette 19 February 1946:

‘For great gallantry, although wounded, in keeping the engine room services of H.M.M.L. 311 in action after an attack by a Japanese destroyer on 15 February 1942.’

The original recommendation states:

‘During the engagement between H.M.M.L. 311 and a heavy Japanese destroyer on 15 February 1942, when the remainder of the Engine Room personnel had been killed, and heavy damage sustained in the Engine Room, the above rating continued to keep the Engine Room services in action, under the most trying conditions. Throughout the engagement, being himself wounded in the leg, Stoker Dunne worked in close proximity to blazing petrol tanks, and in additional danger from pans of live Lewis gun ammunition bursting into flames, some of which penetrated the Engine Room. He remained carrying out E.R. duties until the order to abandon ship was received.’

Percy Albert Holmes Dunne, a native of Whitley Bay, Northumberland, who was born in November 1921, was recommended for his immediate D.S.M. by Commander V. C. F. Clarke, D.S.C.*, R.N., in October 1945, when the latter, the senior surviving officer from H.M.M.L. 331, submitted his official report of the action to Their Lordships:

‘I have the honour to submit the following report of the passage of H.M.M.L. 311 from Singapore to Banka Straits and her sinking there by enemy action. This report is forwarded by me, as Senior Naval Officer on board, in the absence of her Commanding Officer, Lieutenant E. J. H. Christmas, R.A.N.V.R., whose subsequent fate is unknown.

I embarked on H.M.M.L. 311 on the afternoon of 13 February 1942, as a passenger. Orders were later received from R.A.M.Y., through Commander Alexander, R.N., to embark about 55 Army personnel after dark, then proceed to Batavia via the Durian Straits ... At daylight on the 15th, we sighted what appeared to be a warship from 2 to 3 miles distant, almost dead ahead, in the swept channel, at a fine inclination, stern towards us and to all appearances almost stopped. We maintained our course, being under the impression that this was probably a Dutch destroyer. When about a mile away the destroyer altered course to port and was immediately recognised by its distinctive stem as a Japanese destroyer of a large type. At Lieutenant Christmas’ request, I took command of the ship and increased to 18 knots, maintaining my course, to close within effective range.

The enemy opened fire and, with the first salvo, scored two hits, one of which penetrated the forecastle deck, laying out the gun’s crew, putting the gun out of action and killing the helmsman. Lieutenant Christmas took the wheel, and I increased speed to approximately 20 knots, and made a four-point alteration of course to starboard to open ‘A’ arcs for the Lewis guns, now within extreme range. This brought me on a course roughly parallel and opposite to the enemy enclosing the Sumatra shore, which, in the almost certain event of being sunk, should enable the crew and the troops to swim to the mainland. On my enquiring, after the alteration, why the 3-pounder was not firing, I was informed it was out of action. By constant zig-zagging further direct hits were avoided for a short time, during which the light guns continued to engage the enemy.

The enemy, however, having circled round astern of me, was closing and soon shrapnel and direct hits began to take their toll both above and below decks. The petrol tanks were on fire, blazing amidships, and there was a fire on the messdecks. The engine room casing was blown up and two out of three E.R. personnel had been killed, whilst the third, a Stoker [Dunne], was wounded in the leg. The port engine was put out of action. The E.R. services as a whole, however, were maintained throughout the action. Finally, Lieutenant Christmas at the helm reported the steering broken down with the rudder jammed to starboard. We began circling at a range of about 1000 yards. Further offensive or defensive action being impossible, with all guns out of action and the ship ablaze amidships, I stopped engines and ordered ‘abandon ship’.

Casualties were heavy. I estimate that barely 20 men, including wounded, took to the water. The Japanese destroyer lay off and, although the White Ensign remained flying, ceased fire but made no attempt to pick up survivors. I advised men to make for the mainland shore but a number are believed to have made for the middle of the Strait in the hope of being picked up. The action lasted about ten minutes. The captain of the Mata Hari (Lieutenant Carson), who witnessed the action, states that the Japanese ship fired 14 six-gun salvoes. There were four, or possibly five, direct hits, and, in addition to the damage from these, most regrettable carnage was caused on the closely stowed upper deck by burst from several “shorts”. The ship sank not long after being abandoned, burning furiously.’

Other than Dunne, no other officer or rating appears to have been decorated for the action, Clark’s D.S.C. and Bar having stemmed from acts of gallantry in the Second Battle of Narvik and during earlier air attacks off Singapore; sadly the fate of Lieutenant E. J. H. Christmas, R.A.N.V.R., was never fully established, and he is assumed to have died on 15 February 1942.

Sold with the recipient’s original Buckingham Palace returning P.O.W’s message, dated September 1945, together with a quantity of related research and a copy of Commander Victor Clark’s memoirs, Triumph and Disaster, in which he describes the demise of H.M.M.L. 311 in detail.