Auction Catalogue

27 & 28 September 2017

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Orders, Decorations, Medals and Militaria

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Lot

№ 131

.

27 September 2017

Estimate: £3,000–£4,000

A fine Second War ‘George Cross Action’ B.E.M. and Lloyd’s War Medal for Bravery pair awarded to Boatswain E. A. Gardner, Merchant Navy, for his gallant conduct in concert with Chief Officer G. P. Stronach and Second Engineer Officer H. Hotham aboard the flaming S.S. Ocean Voyager, at Tripoli harbour, 19 March 1943

British Empire Medal, (Civil) G.VI.R., 1st issue (Ewart Alfred Gardner); Lloyd’s War Medal for Bravery at Sea, silver (Boatswain E. A. Gardner, S.S. “Ocean Voyager”, 19th March 1943) last in case of issue, nearly extremely fine (2) £3000-4000

Provenance: Ref. Spink Exhibition 1985, No. 81; W. H. Fevyer Collection, DNW, September 2008.

B.E.M.
London Gazette 23 November 1943 (citation jointly listed with Second Engineer Officer H. Hotham’s George Medal):

‘When his ship was set on fire in harbour by enemy aircraft, the Second Engineer Officer remained on board and displayed great and sustained courage with a complete disregard to his personal safety. He stayed alone in the engine-room and endeavoured to get more pressure on the pumps but all attempts to extinguish the fires had to be abandoned as the service pipes were fractured. He helped to get two injured officers into a boat and then returned to the engine-room and remained their endeavouring to get more pressure on the pumps. When the engine-room bulkheads were white hot he was ordered to leave.

Boatswain Gardner displayed outstanding courage and devotion to duty throughout. Although the ship was burning fiercely liable to blow up he remained at his fire station in an effort to obtain a sufficient supply of water. When ordered to leave he took charge of one of the boats and got away a number of survivors.’

Lloyd’s War Medal for Bravery at Sea
Lloyd’s List and Shipping Gazette 27 April 1944 (jointly listed with Chief Officer G. P. Stronach and Second Engineer Officer H. Hotham):

‘Ewart Alfred Gardner, Boatswain,
Ocean Voyager.

During a heavy attack by enemy aircraft on a harbour the vessel was hit and set on fire. The ship had a large cargo of ammunition and petrol and was exploding all the time, and although every effort was made to extinguish the fire she had to be abandoned. The master was killed by the explosion and Chief Officer Stronach took charge of operations. He had been rendered unconscious but recovered almost immediately and went forward to search for survivors. Several of the crew were sheltering in an alleyway, and in spite of exploding ammunition he led them to a boat alongside which carried them to safety. He then lowered another boat and brought alongside the vessel in case other survivors were found. The fire was now raging furiously, but Mr Stronach made his way to the officers’ accommodation amidships, and holding a hose over his head he kept himself wet for protection against the heat and flames. With considerable difficulty he entered the collapsed accommodation, and, finding one of the officers badly burned and unconscious, Mr Stronach got him clear and along the deck to the lowered boat. Returning amidships he discovered another officer who was trapped and removed the debris from him. He dragged him through the port-hole and along the deck, where he tied a rope around his waist and lowered him into the boat. The situation was now becoming perilous and Mr Stronach ordered a man to take the boat to safety. He again returned to the accommodation, where he saw a badly injured officer. Pulling this man along the deck to the side of the ship, he got a rope around him and lowered him to a raft which he had called back to the ship. Once more the chief officer searched for survivors, and on going aft he found a greaser lying unconscious in the scuppers and dragged him to the ship’s side. As there was no boat or raft alongside, he put a lifebelt around the man and threw him overboard. Having made sure there were no more survivors Mr Stronach jumped overboard and swam to a raft, which then returned to rescue the greaser. Chief Officer Stronach remained on the burning ship searching for survivors for an hour and twenty minutes, although he knew that the ship might blow up at any minute. He saved a number of the crew by his leadership in inducing them to get away, and the three officers and the greaser owed their lives to his conspicuously brave efforts, performed without regard to his own safety. When the ship was set on fire, Second Engineer Hotham remained alone in the engine-room and endeavoured to obtain more pressure on the pumps, but as the service pipes were fractured efforts to extinguish the fire had to be abandoned. After helping to get two of the injured officers into the boat, he went back to the engine-room and endeavoured to get more pressure on the pumps. He did not leave until the engine-room bulkheads became white-hot. He showed high courage and devotion to duty throughout. Although the vessel was burning furiously, and he knew that she might blow up, Boatswain Gardner stayed at his fire station in an endeavour to obtain an adequate supply of water. When he received orders to abandon ship he took charge of a boat and got away a number of the crew. His courage and devotion to duty were outstanding’.

The S.S.
Ocean Voyager, a British cargo vessel of 7,174 tons, was bombed by enemy aircraft in Tripoli Harbour on 19 March 1943. With a cargo of ammunition and petrol the vessel caught fire and was wracked with explosions. Her captain and five others were killed in the attack. The wrecked vessel sank on the following day. For their gallant services that day, Chief Officer Stronach was awarded the George Cross (see DNW lot 1, May 2017); Second Engineer Hotham, the George Medal, and Boatswain Gardner, the B.E.M.

Stronach gave a detailed interview shortly after his G.C. winning exploits to the editor of the popular wartime newspaper,
Parade, which was published in their 26 June 1943 issue. This contemporary account written shortly after the event makes compelling reading, the only notable difference between this and the official citation for his G.C. being that the Greaser whose life he is credited as saving in the citation for his G.C. in fact later died of his wounds. The following is a transcription of this interview, in which Gardner is mentioned by rank several times:

S.S. Ocean Voyager - Inferno Afloat

‘When I met the Chief Officer [Stronach] of the bombed ship, he was still suffering from the shock of his experience. He hadn't been able to get much in the way of restful sleep for the past few days; the Second Engineer who shared his temporary quarters told me that he often heard him shouting in his sleep during those first nights ashore. And the shouts were of orders - his brain was reviewing events which led to the sinking of his ship, almost as though he were seated in a crazy cinema palace, with an endless film showing on the screen. A quiet young fellow, with a wife in Glasgow, he was given to reticence. When, finally, he decided to unburden himself, it was with the anticipated condition : “no names - the others wouldn't care for names to appear."

"I was sitting on the settee waiting for the seven o'clock news" he told me, as he began his story. "I heard the shore barrage open up ... I think they must have fired about a couple of shots when I rushed out from my cabin and up the Captain’s inside stairway with the intention of going on the top Bridge to ring the alarm bells. For some reason - I don’t quite know why - I went out of the lower Bridge door, to reach the top by the outside route. Just as I closed the door behind me, the first bomb hit number two hatch, and it must have been just about a second later when there were two direct hits through the Bridge. I don't quite know what happened then. I was thrown about 30 feet right out into the starboard scuppers. It was a few seconds before I realised that I was still alive. My left trouser leg had been torn off. My left eye, and the whole of my left side, seemed affected by the shock.

When I got to my feet, number two hold and the Bridge accommodation were infernos. My idea was still to get up on the Bridge and ring those alarm bells. I tried to climb the ladder, but found the steps had been blown in. I then went down on to the main deck, and met the bosun [Gardner]. I sent him to get full force on the fire hoses, and ran to number two hatch, dragged the nozzle of the fire hose to the mouth of the hatch, turned on the water. It was then I discovered there was no water coming, on account of a fractured pipe: the deck service supply had been broken by the explosion. All this time, the bulk of the crew were aft. I discovered later that number five hatch and the crew's accommodation were also on fire. Maybe they were dazed, and unable to decide what was happening amidships. I don’t know; everything was happening so quickly, there was little time to check up.

The net result, though, was that the bosun and I seemed to be isolated amidships, and then there was nothing for it but to try and do what best we could by ourselves. I went to a hose coupled further aft, which was nearer the water supply - l knew I’d get water there. I dragged that hose into the accommodation, and played it around for a few minutes. Then the ammunition in number two hold started to explode. I fixed the hose as best I could and ran aft to the crew to tell them to abandon ship. Only then, I discovered that the deck service supply also was broken at number five hatch, which was well ablaze. I ordered the crew to take to the boats. They went into the starboard lifeboat, which was lying alongside number four hold - luckily it was the motor launch which had previously been used to run the Captain ashore.

All this time, the bosun was below, trying to get more water on the hoses. I went up to the boat deck to start lowering the port lifeboat. There was nobody available to help, so I started winding out the boat one end at a time. We were fitted with patent “Welin Quadrant" davits [apparatus for lowering boats], otherwise it would have been impossible. I started lowering the boat in the falls, when one Able Seaman and a fireman came up and helped lower. As soon as the boat reached the water, I told these two men to get in and stand by alongside. In the meantime, a young D.E.M.S. gunner started shooting away with the port Oerlikon gun on a platform amidships by the port lifeboat.

While the lifeboat was waiting, I went amidships to look for survivors. It was useless to try saving the ship - I used the hoses to play on the sides of the alleyways as I searched. Just as I had dragged a hose into the officers' port alleyway, the bosun came back. I sent him to take charge of the starboard lifeboat. I found the Second Officer just inside by the bathroom door - naked, badly burned, stupid with the shock. I pulled him out - his face was covered with blood - and ordered him to make for the starboard lifeboat.

I then worked in through the port alleyway, spraying my hose on the burning accommodation. There was no one in the Third Officer's cabin. I got as far as the Second Officer’s door when I discovered all the amidships bulkheads had concertinaed and had blocked the alleyways. Unable to get farther, I had to come out a couple of times for breath - burning paint and cordite. I heard someone groaning in the Second Officer's cabin. All lights were out, but by the glare of the fire I could see two legs sticking through the porthole. I dropped the hose there and ran outside, and found the Chief Engineer hanging head down outside.

Trapped, Wounded

When the deckhead had collapsed it had brought the dead-light down and trapped his legs just when he was trying to get out. He was conscious - head badly cut - and he told me to go careful as he thought his legs were broken. I couldn't drag him through the port, so I levered him through, pushing the deadlight up as best I could. Once I had got him clear, I couldn't hold him; he was too heavy. So had to let him drop as best I could on to the deck. Then I caught hold of his two hands and dragged him along the deck. He was screaming with the agony, but there was no other way.

The D.E.M.S. gunner saw me dragging the Chief, and came down to help me. I doubt whether I could have done the job alone. Then the Second Engineer, who had been down in the engine room all this time, came up. He gave us a hand to lower the Chief over the side. We made a rope fast under the Chief’s armpits, and lowered him into the lifeboat, sending the seaman-gunner down too. It takes a long time to tell, but it didn’t take long to happen. As far as we knew then, the Second Engineer and myself were the only two men left alive aboard the ship. We went back to the Bridge accommodation to see if we could rescue anyone else from the wreckage. I didn’t tell you at the time, but, just after I had sent the Second Officer away to the lifeboat, I half slipped - and found the Captain lying on the deck, half his head smashed and minus both legs. He was far beyond help.

German Plane Down

We tried the port alleyway twice, but it was hopeless - we couldn’t get in. Then we tried to get in through the pantry, but again it was hopeless. I asked the Second Engineer if he could get down below again, and get more force on the hose. While he was below I heard groaning from the starboard side, and found the Third Radio Officer lying there with his legs smashed up and severe head injuries. I had a look first to see if the port lifeboat was still alongside; but the burning wreckage of a German plane which had crashed near the ship had forced them to pull off. I dragged Sparks along the starboard alleyway, and got a rope under his armpits. Then the Second Engineer reappeared, and we both lowered Sparks over the side. No boats were left but there was a raft about 100 feet from the ship, with two firemen aboard. We hailed them. They came alongside and we lowered Sparks on to the raft.

We decided to have one last look round the ship. It was then we found an old Irish greaser lying in the scuppers, unconscious. By then the raft had drifted away from the ship, so we secured a lifebelt on the old man, took off his boots and trousers (why the trousers, I don’t quite know, but we had it in our heads at the time that this might help) and threw him overboard. It was his only chance of getting away. Then the Second Engineer went down the ladder, and waited while l swam out to the raft, to tow it alongside. I found we’d lost the paddle, so I boarded a lighter into which we’d been loading bombs and picked up a couple of pieces of wood which we used as makeshift paddles.
 
Having got the Second Engineer aboard, we just drifted round until we were picked up by a naval motor-launch. The old Irishman was dead by the time we got him to hospital. He was a man of 56, and the shock probably did it. I was asked, later, why we had thrown him overboard, instead of lowering him. But, remember, by this time the ammunition in number one and two holds was exploding; there were bombs in number three; the flames were now at a terrific height. We expected her to go up at any minute. The ship was an inferno - fire. fore and aft. There was no time for formalities.”

Sold with Buckingham Palace Investiture slip, dated 7 December 1943.