Orders, Decorations, Medals and Militaria

A fine Second World War Malta convoy B.E.M. group of six awarded to Able Seaman C. N. Owen, Merchant Navy, who, although wounded, manned his gun under heavy fire aboard the M.V. Pampas during “Operation M.G. 1” in March 1942, bringing down at least one enemy aircraft

British Empire Medal, (Civil) G.VI.R., 1st issue (A.B. Charles Noel Owen); 1939-45 Star; Atlantic Star; Africa Star; Italy Star; War Medal 1939-45, extremely fine (6) £600-800

This lot was sold as part of a special collection, A Collection of Awards to Merchant Seamen and D.E.M.S. Gunners.

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B.E.M. London Gazette 24 November 1942. The original recommendation states:

‘Able Seaman Owen was in the gun’s crew of the 12-pounder gun, and although wounded, remained at his station on the gun which scored a direct hit on a torpedo bomber making a determined short range attack on the ship. He also gave valuable assistance in putting out the fire on board the vessel when she was bombed and set on fire in Valetta harbour.’

Charles Noel Owen, who was born in the Rhondda Valley in December 1917, had been in the Merchant Navy for about nine years by the time of his gallant deeds in the course of “Operation M.G. 1”.

A full account of the extraordinary punishment meted out to Pampas during - and immediately following - Malta convoy “operation M.G. 1” is recounted in an article by Graham Knight, published in The Review, Winter 1998 edition (The Journal of the Naval Historical Collectors & Research Society), from which the following extracts have been taken:

‘During the afternoon of the 23 [March 1942] a torpedo bomber came in close to the Pampas, the gunners after aft, the cadets, on the bridge, and the troops with their Bren guns let go with all they had. The combined fire of the Pampas and the Talabot was effective. The raider swerved past the stern of the Pampas towards the Talabot, went into a quick turn, and dived into the sea. Another torpedo bomber attacked the Pampas at close range, received a direct hit on the nose from the 12-pounder gun and fell shattered into the sea. The score to the Pampas that day was certainly one and a half, and possibly two enemy aircraft destroyed.

As night came down the ships’ companies were glad to see darkness fall and the gunners, having manned their guns for twelve hours, could relax at last. In accordance with a pre-arranged plan the convoy scattered at dusk. The intention was that a destroyer should remain with each merchantman. The Pampas by now was rolling and pitching in the heavy seas and was taking on board a great deal of water.

Captain Ingram’s report says ‘Having evaded the enemy, the next consideration was navigation. So many alterations had been made it was difficult to fix the ship’s position so that a course could be set. By careful judgement, calculation, and, I suppose, some element of luck, we set course for the point of arrival. During the night a few minor incidents occurred. The steering gear went out of action, constant use of the helm hard over one way and hard over the other, so frequently, to avoid torpedoes, had finally told. We lost sight of our escort and never saw him again. With the log carried away and the echo sounder no longer functioning due, I think, to damage from the machine-gun bullets hitting vital parts, our navigation was therefore of the “By guess and by God’ variety.” ’



When Monday 23 March dawned the Pampas was still many miles away from Malta and visibility was poor. Despite this, enemy aircraft found the Pampas at the very crack of dawn and attacked with dive bombers. The first aircraft received a direct hit and blew up. Another aircraft was hit and smoke was seen streaming out of one of the engines. Pampas had now shot down at least three enemy aircraft and dumped two others. An aircraft circling out on the starboard bow suddenly dived and straddled the ship with a stick of bombs, but Pampas’s luck held. The first bomb hit number two starboard derrick, bent it into a ‘V’ shape and bounced overboard under the bridge. The next bomb sailed in over the bridge, hit the funnel, and went over the side between number three life boat which was swung out - neither bomb exploded. The aircraft skimmed so close over the ship that those on the bridge could see the pilot quite plainly. By this time Pampas had sighted Talabot on her port bow with the two escort vessels and followed her into the swept approach channel. A final attack on Pampas was made by three enemy aircraft but no further damage was done.

Of the four ships which had left Alexandria on 20 March, only two, Pampas and Talabot, reached Valetta Harbour ... As the Pampas sailed into Valetta Grand Harbour the cliff road was lined with cheering crowds, many were women and children, some had their hands clasped in thankful prayer, others frantically waved arms and aprons, in welcome to the men who had fought against such heavy odds and brought much-needed stores to the Island.

An immediate start was made with the discharge of the deck cargo. At first everything had to be moved by hand as blocks, wires and tackle had been damaged either by bomb blasts or by machine-gun bullets. New gear was rigged as quickly as it could be provided. Malta was already short of equipment but, by next morning, 24 March, the deck cargo had been discharged and work had begun on number two hold. There were several air attacks that day, but Pampas escaped damage. The next day it became apparent that two newly arrived merchant ships were the bombers’ main targets. There were intense air raids all day, dive bombers screamed down, bombs crashed in and around the harbour, and great spouts of water rose into the air ...

Following several near misses during the morning, at 1330 the enemy scored two direct hits on the engine room, and one bomb is thought to have gone down the funnel. The midships accommodation was set on fire, and smoke poured out in a heavy dense cloud. The ship’s fire fighting equipment was put out of action but the crew, undismayed, rigged the emergency equipment. With the help of shore based equipment the fire was eventually brought under control.

Sir William Doby, Governor of Malta, with his wife and daughter, twice visited the ship to encourage those working on her. The air raids continued incessantly. On the last day of March Captain Ingrams states “Then came Tuesday 31 March. It was a bright day, notwithstanding the air raids, because the Band of the Royal Marines cheered everybody up and kept them in fine spirits. The heavier the raid the louder the music. The bombs continued down, the band continued to play, and those indomitable people went on discharging cargo, by day and by night.”

On Sunday 5 April the ship was riddled with bomb splinters from near misses. However, the sides were plugged, she was pumped out and the discharge of cargo continued. On 11 and 12 April, during very heavy raids, the ship was struck in numbers three and five holds, the ship’s back was broken in two places, her decks were badly buckled, with rivets sheared and plates cracked. The hull split and buckled, and oil poured from the ruptured starboard fuel tanks.

On 13 April nobody was allowed on board as the forward part of the vessel appeared to be breaking away from the remainder. The fore part of the ship was up in the air at an angle of 10 degrees. On Sunday 19 April the ship was again hit and set on fire and, as there was no means to get on board, the fire raged all day and well into the night, as the ship slowly settled on the bottom. The end of Pampas came on Monday 20 April at 0900 when there was a heavy raid on the harbour area and a bomb struck number four hold causing heavy explosions which burst the ship asunder. Altogether Pampas had received 18 bomb hits, notwithstanding which 60% of her precious cargo had been discharged.’

The gallant Owen received his decoration at a Buckingham Palace investiture held in February 1942, and went on to see service in the Atlantic in the Suncrest, Fort Ash and Barrgrove in the period May 1942 to November 1943, and in the Orkla off Italy in the period February 1944 to April 1945. He was discharged ashore in the summer of 1946; sold with the recipient’s original Buckingham Palace investiture letter, and an extensive file of research.