Orders, Decorations, Medals and Militaria. To coincide with the OMRS Convention

Four: Leading Stoker C. Churchward, Royal Navy, a veteran of Heligoland Bight 1914, Dogger Bank 1915 and Jutland, the whole as a crew member of the battle cruiser New Zealand

1914-15 Star (K. 16054 Sto. 1, R.N.); British War and Victory Medals (K.16054 L. Sto., R.N.); Royal Navy L.S. & G.C., G.V.R., 1st issue (K. 16054 L. Sto., R.N., H.M.S. Vivid) polished, good fine or better (4) £140-160

Cleo Churchward was born in Plymouth in July 1894 and entered the Royal Navy as a Stoker 2nd Class in September 1912. Joining the cruiser H.M.S. New Zealand in January 1913, he remained aboard the same ship until February 1919, and was consequently present at Heligoland Bight in August 1914, Dogger Bank in January 1915 and Jutland in May 1916. The same period of service witnessed his advancement to Leading Stoker.

At Dogger Bank, command of the British squadrons fell to Rear-Admiral Moore of the New Zealand when Beatty’s Lion was badly damaged by three 12-inch shells from the Derfflionger, and as a consequence she was directly engaged in the three hour duel that resulted in the loss of the Blucher.

At Jutland, the crew of the New Zealand had the misfortune to witness the loss of the Indefatigable and the Queen Mary, passing the latter battle cruiser on the port beam at just 100 yards distance when she blew up. An Officer stationed in New Zealand’s gun-control position later wrote:

‘At about 4.35 the stern of a ship projecting about 70 feet out of the water, with the propellers revolving slowly, drifted into the field of my glasses; clouds of white paper were blowing out of the after-hatch, and on her stern I read “Queen Mary”. She passed us about 100 yards on our port beam, and a moment later there was a blinding flash, a dull heavy roar, which ceased as suddenly as it began, followed by a few seconds silence, and then the patter of falling debris. All that was left of the “Queen Mary” was a great mushroom-shaped cloud of smoke about 600 to 800 feet high, which temporarily obscured our view of the enemy, but a few seconds later we drew clear.’

In spite of such harrowing scenes, the New Zealand’s crew continued to engage the enemy with numerous well-aimed salvoes, the whole under the direction of Admiral Pakenham and Captain John Green. The latter was wearing ‘a Maori rush kilt or war mat, called a piu-piu, which had been given to the ship by a Maori Chief during her cruise round the world between 1913-14, with the injunction that it was always worn by the Captain of the New Zealand when in action’, in addition to a green-stone necklace, a tiki, given on the same occasion. As far as such mascots go, they seem to have done the trick, just one enemy shell hitting the New Zealand on her after turret. Certainly the crew were anxious that their skipper always wore the mascots in action, as an Officer of the ship later recalled:

‘Over a year later, on the last occasion that we sighted enemy ships during the war, on 17 November 1917, there was rather an amusing example of their [the crew’s] faith in the mascots. Early in the morning some German light cruisers were sighted and engaged by our light cruisers, and in New Zealand we went to action stations. The Admiral, the Captain (now Captain Webb), and myself were all on the upper bridge when I saw a sailor come up the ladder, peep round the corner and then disappear again. “It’s all right, he’s got it on,” I heard him tell several men on the lower bridge, from which I understood that he was a scout sent out when there was a possibility of an action to make sure that the Captain actually was wearing the piu-piu and the tiki!’

A relief to Churchward, no doubt, who was awarded his L.S. & G.C. Medal in February 1933.