Auction Catalogue

13 December 2007

Starting at 11:00 AM

.

Orders, Decorations and Medals

Washington Mayfair Hotel  London  W1J 5HE

Download Images

Lot

№ 60

.

13 December 2007

Hammer Price:
£4,500

The Great War D.S.C. group of five awarded to Squadron Commander W. H. “Old Bill” Wilson, Royal Naval Air Service, late Imperial Yeomanry, a veteran of the fledgling R.N.A.S’s Dunkirk-based operations in 1914, when he gained a reputation for engaging enemy pilots and observers with his ‘pet rifle’: he went on to collect the R.H.S. Medal in bronze for saving his observer after coming down in the drink during the Gallipoli operations, and his D.S.C. for the period ending December 1917

Distinguished Service Cross
, G.V.R., hallmarks for London 1918; Queen’s South Africa 1899-1902, 5 clasps, Cape Colony, Orange Free State, Transvaal, South Africa 1901, South Africa 1902 (Lieut. W. H. Wilson, Imp. Yeo.); 1914 Star, with clasp (Flt. Lieut. W. H. Wilson, R.N.A.S.); British War and Victory Medals (Sq. Cr. W. H. Wilosn, R.N.A.S.), very fine and better (5) £3000-3500

D.S.C. London Gazette 1 May 1918:

‘To officers of the Royal Naval Air Service for zeal and devotion to duty from the period 1 July to 31 December 1917.’

William Hayland Wilson, who served as a Lieutenant in the 25th Battalion, Imperial Yeomanry in South Africa, was a pre-war member of the fledgling Royal Naval Air Service who qualified for his “Wings” in August 1914 (Certificate No. 875). Quickly ordered to Dunkirk, where he joined the the Eastchurch Squadron, under Commander C. R. Samson, the famous aircraft pioneer and pilot, who would shortly establish the R.N.A.S. Armoured Car Section, Wilson rapidly established himself as a determined and fearless aviator, or certainly according to his C.O’s memoirs,
Fights and Flights:

‘Some new pilots arrived shortly after we were installed at Dunkirk, and although at first they were treated with suspicion by old hands, we soon found them to be real stout-hearted fellows: Hayland Wilson, G. L. Thomson, and Butler were the newcomers, each of whom has written his name in large letters in the annals of the Royal Naval Air Service ... Hayland Wilson, who for some reason was called “Old Bill,” developed a great keenness to be taken up as a passenger with his pet rifle to shoot a Hun. He was popularly supposed to be a great big-game shot, and many was the flight we did with him and his rifle patrolling over Dunkirk waiting for a German to come. It was a cold job in winter flying at about 7,000 feet insufficiently clad, and the pain on alighting whilst the blood started to circulate once more to one’s frozen extremities was intense. One day we did come across a Hun, but Bill was too frozen to shoot.

The Maurice Farman was then refilled with petrol, and as other German aeroplanes were reported to be crossing the lines, I ascended as soon as possible, carrying Hayland Wilson armed with a rifle. I sighted seven Huns, and after engaging one which was already over Dunkirk and considerably above me, I got across the bows of two more, and gave chase, engaging each in turn. Their superior speed enabled them to get past me. I then climbed and took up a position to intercept two more who were over Dunkirk. I could not get very close to one of them; but I got directly over the other at very close range, and we had a rifle duel. We were certain that we had hit the observer, as he ceased to take any further interest in affairs. The Biche pilot put his nose down and dived for the lines; I followed; but a Maurice Farman is not a rapid aeroplane at that type of work, and the Hun got away.

The Germans had only hit our aeroplane three times.

As soon as I landed the old Farman was got ready again with bombs put on it; and Collet with Wilson as passenger went to Ostend to pay a return compliment to the Germans with eighteen 16lb. bombs and some rifle grenades. They unloaded their cargo on the docks and railway stations of Ostend. I was always a great believer in quick retaliation. Collet came down fairly low, and had a hot time with “Archie” ... ’

By April 1915, Samson and his pilots were operating out of bases at Imbros and Tenedos, in support of the Gallipoli operations, Wilson flying a sortie on the 25th, the day of the actual landings. Once again he came to the notice of his C.O.:

‘Everybody had been up, of course, and Bill Wilson, who was quite our heaviest pilot, had gone up on a long reconnaissance over Helles at necessarily low altitude with 13-stone Bill Samson [the author’s brother] as his observer on one of the Henri-Farmans. This was a fine performance, as the Henri was very reluctant to leave the ground with two people. They came back very pleased with themselves, with several holes in the plane, and said everybody seemed to have had a shot at them.

Next day we were hard at work keeping up a constant reconnaissance looking for movements of Turkish troops and spotting for the warships’ fire.

This sort of work went on for a long time, and we reported practically every movement of the Turks. We also located the Asiatic guns, which were firing at the Helles beach. This day and the next we could see the Turks digging in all across the Peninsula.’

Disaster was about to strike, however, in an incident that led to Wilson being awarded the Royal Humane Society’s Bronze Medal (Case No. 41,795, 1915 refers). His C.O. continues:

‘At the beginning of July [1915] I lost Flight Lieutenant Bill Wilson and Bill Samson, whom I had detached to Mytylene with a small party and a Henri Farman to carry out patrols over Smyrna. They had a most adventurous time for a period, which was brought to an end by an involuntary fall into the sea owing to engine failure. They had four hours in the water with the wreckage only able to support one. Bill Wilson, being a good swimmer, made my brother, whose leg was damaged in the crash, take his Gieve waistcoat and hold on to the wreckage, whilst he kept swimming. Fortunately, one of our patrol trawlers came up and picked them up just as my brother was practically all in. One of the trawler’s crew got hold of a bomb which was on the aeroplane - you could always trust one of the squadron aeroplanes to have a bomb somewhere - and started to unwind the safety fan. Brother Bill just stopped him in time, and flung the bomb overboard, or it would have gone off any minute. They were both invalided home. Wilson never rejoined again; but my brother came out in September. Bill Wilson richly deserved the Royal Humane Society’s Medal he was awarded.’

And appears to have ended the War attached to
Pembroke as a Squadron Commander on general staff duties.