Auction Catalogue

25 & 26 June 2014

Starting at 10:00 AM

.

Orders, Decorations, Medals and Militaria

Washington Mayfair Hotel  London  W1J 5HE

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Lot

№ 1235

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26 June 2014

Hammer Price:
£1,550

A Second World War North Africa operations M.M. group of five awarded to Sergeant J. Lomas, 7th Royal Tank Regiment, who was decorated for his gallantry as a Troop Commander in the breakout from Tobruk in January 1941 - he was subsequently taken P.O.W.

Military Medal, G.VI.R. (7883813 Sjt. J. Lomas, R. Tank R.); India General Service 1908-35, 1 clasp, North West Frontier 1935 (7883813 Pte. J. Lomas, R. Tank C.); 1939-45 Star; Africa Star; War Medal 1939-45, generally good very fine (5)
£1200-1500

M.M. London Gazette 9 May 1941. The original recommendation states:

‘Tobruk, 21 January 1941, Tank Commander in the troop clearing the perimeter to the west of the break through. During this operation another tank of the troop was immobilized by two direct hits. Sergeant Lomas repeatedly and most skilfully manoeuvred his tank in such a manner as to draw fire away from the knocked out tank by closely engaging enemy posts and artillery which were firing at it. His action was largely responsible for the fact that the crew were recovered later in the day. His skill and courage are well worthy of recognition.’

James Lomas was taken prisoner of war after the fall of Tobruk, and held in a prisoner of war camp in Italy before being moved to Stalag IVb in Germany.

The following is transcribed from an original accompanying news cutting:

‘Before Quarter-Master Sergeant James Lomas, M.M., of Stockport Road, Longsight, Manchester, was reported missing in the Western Desert he wrote home a vivid description of what it feels like to be inside a tank under shellfire in a night attack. He is 28 and has been a soldier for 10 years, going to the Middle East six weeks after coming out of Dunkirk. He won his Military Medal at Tobruk last year.

‘It is almost zero hour,’ he wrote. ‘Word comes to move off. We swing into line ahead and smash enemy posts with everything we’ve got. Suddenly there is a terrific shock. Sparks shower across my periscope. We’ve been hit - but there is no damage.

Next you’re outside your tank doing repairs, so you fall flat and then start playing kids games again, like ‘Last Across the Road,’ running like hell to get inside when you’ve got the chance, judging between the scream and a short howl from a shell whether you’ve got it in your lap or not.

When we start attacking our 25-pounders open on a line in front of us. We form up watching the accurate shooting of the good old gunners and cheering them on. They do a grand job those gunners.

Then it’s our turn and we advance towards our biggest headache of the day. We go on to the limit laid down and once we get there we just bang away as hard as we can go.

“Gun stopped,” yells our gunner. “The damn things jammed.” I’d give anything for another pair of hands. The driver keeps on the move. I squirt a jet from a fire extinguisher over the breech, and our two-pounder bangs away, so nobody’s wasting any time. And that’s more or less what it’s like in action - more or less.’