Orders, Decorations, Medals and Militaria

A good Great War anti-U-boat operations D.S.M. group of seven awarded to Seaman Rigger A. L. Levin, Royal Navy

Distinguished Service Medal, G.V.R. (J. 14107 A. L. Levin, A.B., H.M.S. P. 32, 1917); 1914-15 Star (J. 14107 A. L. Levin, A.B., R.N.); British War and Victory Medals (J. 14107 A. L. Levin, A.B., R.N.); Jubilee 1935, privately inscribed, ‘J. 14107 A. L. Levin, Sea. Rig., H.M.Y. Victoria & Albert’; Coronation 1937, privately inscribed, ‘J. 14107 A. L. Levin, Sea. Rig., H.M.Y. Victoria & Albert’; Royal Navy L.S. & G.C., G.V.R., 2nd issue, fixed suspension (J. 14107 Smn. Rgr., H.M.Y. Victoria & Albert), the first with officially corrected number, contact marks, edge bruising and polished, otherwise about very fine or better (7) £800-1000

D.S.M. London Gazette 8 March 1918:

‘For services in destroyers and torpedo boat flotillas for the period ending 31 December 1917.’

Alexander Louis Levin was born in Holloway, London in February 1895 and entered the Royal Navy as a Boy 2nd Class in September 1911. He subsequently witnessed active service aboard the destroyer H.M.S. Fearless in the Home Fleet from August 1914 until October 1915, when he came ashore to an appointment at Excellent, and afterwards in the patrol boat P. 32 from April 1916 until the end of hostilities.

During this latter period, the P. 32 was present at the demise of the UB-81 off the Isle of Wight on 2 December 1917, an incident that may well have contributed to Levin being awarded his D.S.M. Certainly it was a most unusual affair, seven Germans making their escape via a torpedo tube, but not their captain, Oberleutnant Reinhold Saltzwedel, who had in his previous command fought a famous pitched battle with Q-Ship legend Captain Gordon Campbell. Keble Chatterton’s Beating the U-Boats takes up the story:

‘When Captain Gordon Campbell had his memorable duel in the Bay of Biscay against UC-71 on the occasion of his last tussle in a Q-ship, his opponent on that day - Saltzwedel - was a clever submarine captain and very tough and was about to take command of UB-81. A memorable occasion, for on this, his first and only cruise in her after completing trials at Kiel, he proceeded down the coast to Zeebrugge and left there on 28 November via the Dover barrage, but on 2 December was operating on the surface between the Owers Lightship and Dunnose until 4.30 p.m., when he hit a small mine. Probably this accident was caused by her cable having fouled some mine moorings; for while weighing anchor at six o'clock that morning, the cable parted and 164 feet of it was lost or at least a certain amount of it was in tow; for the boat henceforth steered very badly. Now when UB-81 was at 83 feet near Dunnose, a dull explosion was heard aft for she evidently fouled with this cable the small mine 10 1/2 miles S.E. of Dunnose. Trouble began quickly and two of the crew came running forward with the report that water was entering the stern compartment. Although watertight doors were then closed, the force of the explosion had started a number of rivets and water burst its way into the second compartment. It was a cheerful outlook, yet land seemed not so far distant. Then a desperate effort was attempted. Even the duel with the Dunraven seemed mere child's play now. The stern was resting on the bottom in 15 fathoms, but from the upper starboard tube was extracted the torpedo, and the sea-cap was opened when it was found that the mouth of the tube was just a foot above the level of the water. UB-81 was 180 feet long and with her stern on the sea-bed she lay at an angle of about 53 degrees. Three men were rammed through this tube, in fact altogether seven men were thus hauled out, a line having been taken up; but they also fired Very's lights to attract attention from passing vessels. The German crew were planning their suicides: so terrified of life and death were their thoughts. Those three men who with difficulty had been rammed outside now found the December cold so severe that they preferred to die in warmth rather than freeze to death outside. A well-known method of self-murder was to use the oxygen flasks, and as in a kind of Theatre Guignol Play the climax was terrible with suspense. Saltzwedel was having a fierce task to keep the men away from the flasks. Death seemed so difficult yet so easy. Discipline was almost gone, and one wonders indeed how many of these Huns were gazing into death, feeling its outstretched chilly fingers and remembered all the deaths of others at which they had assisted. At the height of this terrific suspense, about an hour after the first man had emerged from the torpedo-tube, suddenly, as in a piece of fiction, the tenseness was relaxed. Rescuing vessels which had been attracted now began to arrive about 10 p.m. H.M.S. P. 32 was the first, but the Hun had become notorious with all his false cries for help that of course the P-boat suspected a trap and for some time circled continuously around. "Some dirty work here?" she wondered. "You bet the Hun is up to some trick." Perhaps it was an ingenious 'wheeze' to entice a British warship on to mines? But when at last it was deemed advisable, P. 32 came close enough on the weather side to take the Germans on board. Of course it was a risk: the enemy could not be expected to behave decently. Yet still British sailors would save lives if allowed.’

Levin joined the Royal Yacht Victoria & Albert in July 1924, was awarded his L.S. & G.C. Medal in February 1928, and was still aboard the Victoria & Albert at the time of receiving his Jubilee 1935 Medal (accompanying verification refers); sold with copied research.