Auction Catalogue
Create new listThe outstanding and historically important ‘Spion Kop’ D.S.O. and Great War group of eleven awarded to Air Commodore L. E. O. ‘Leo’ Charlton, C.B., C.M.G., D.S.O., Royal Air Force, late Lancashire Fusiliers and Royal Flying Corps, who fired probably the first aerial shots and dropped the first aerial bombs of the Great War, on 22nd August 1914, and on the same day discovered the encircling movement of Von Kluck’s II Corps which led to the great retreat by the B.E.F. from Mons
The Most Honourable Order of The Bath, C.B. (Military) Companion’s neck badge, silver-gilt and enamels; The Most Distinguished Order of St. Michael and St. George, C.M.G., Companion’s breast badge, converted for neck wear, silver-gilt and enamels; Distinguished Service Order, V.R., silver-gilt and enamels, complete with top suspension brooch; Queen’s South Africa 1899-1902, 5 clasps, Cape Colony, Orange Free State, Relief of Ladysmith, Transvaal, Laing’s Nek (Capt. L. E. O. Charlton, D.S.O., Lanc. Fus.); King’s South Africa 1901-02, 2 clasps, South Africa 1901, South Africa 1902 (Capt., D.S.O., Lanc. Fus.); 1914 Star, with clasp (Capt., D.S.O., L. Fus. Attd. R.F.C.); British War and Victory Medals, with M.I.D. oak leaf (Brig. Gen., R.A.F.); Legion of Honour, Officer’s breast badge, gold and enamels; Royal Humane Society, small bronze medal (Successful) (Lieut., Oct. 29: 1899) complete with bronze ribbon buckle; 3rd Yorkshire Imperial Yeomanry Medal, South Africa 1901-1902 (Capt.) lacquered, otherwise generally good very fine (11) £9000-12000
See colour illustration on back cover.
D.S.O. London Gazette 19 April 1901. Presented by the King for ‘services in connection with the Campaign in South Africa 1899-1900.’ Mentioned in Sir Charles Warren’s despatch of 1 February 1900, for 16-25th January 1900 (battle of Spion Kop): ‘Lieut. L. Charlton, though severely wounded at 9 a.m., continued nine hours in the firing line until ordered to leave by his Captain.’
C.M.G. London Gazette 3 June 1916: Lieutenant-Colonel, Lancashire Fusiliers, attached Royal Flying Corps.
C.B. London Gazette 1 January 1919: Brigadier-General, Royal Air Force. Presented by the King.
Legion of Honour, Chevalier, 19 November 1914: Captain, Lanc. Fus., attd. Royal Flying Corps.
Legion of Honour, Officer, 20 January 1919: Brigadier-General, Royal Air Force. Presented by the President of France.
R.H.S. Bronze Medal, Case No. 30,539 of 1899: ‘On the 29th October 1899, a native, in an attempt to recover a shot bird from the river near Kandia, Crete, became entangled in the weeds in 12 feet of water. Charlton at great risk, swam out fully clothed and rescued the man.’
M.I.D. London Gazette 1 February 1900 (Warren), 20 May 1918 (Haig), and 31 December 1918 (Haig).
Lionel Evelyn Oswald ‘Leo’ Charlton was born at 28 Half Moon Street, Mayfair, on the 7th July 1879, the third child born to Diplomat William Oswald Charlton and Mary Grant Charlton, formerly Campbell. Leo’s father worked for Her Majesty’s Diplomatic Service and had been posted to the British Legation to the United States in Washington D.C. where he became acquainted with Miss Mary Campbell, an American citizen whom he later married and brought with him back to England where Leo was born. The family returned to America in 1882 and stayed there for a couple of years, before William was again posted back to the UK.
After being educated at Brighton College, Charlton decided that the army appealed to his sense of adventure more than the maritime service and so after studying at a “crammer” he was accepted into the Royal Military Academy, Sandhurst in 1897. After spending only three weeks at Malta word went round that the battalion was to embark on H.M.S. Vulcan for Candia, Crete, where only recently a V.C., D.S.O. and several D.C.M.’s had been awarded for an action in quelling riots between the Muslim Turk and Christian Greek population. It was here that Charlton won the Bronze Medal of the Royal Humane Society for saving a man from drowning whilst on a hunting trip.
Towards the end of the year, Charlton was one of the three junior officers selected to join the 2nd Battalion for active service in South Africa. Travelling via Suez, Aden and Zanzibar on board the S.S. Dunera, Charlton finally arrived in South Africa in December 1899. Whilst en route from Durban to Cape town, Charlton was greatly dismayed to hear of Buller’s disaster at Colenso. It had never entered the young officer’s mind that it might be possible for British soldiers to retreat or be routed. “If the army were liable to defeat, might it not also be untrue that the navy was invincible; and in that case what about trade and government, what about security at home, what about the Empire as a whole?” he asked himself.
All too soon after their arrival the 2nd Battalion, Lancashire Fusiliers marched from the relative safety of the Cape towards Natal, their objective being the relief of the besieged town of Ladysmith. A significant obstacle lay in the way of Buller’s advance to Ladysmith, the Tugela River and the line of hills on the opposite side of the river held by the Boers, the most dominating of which was called Spion Kop, Afrikaner for “Spy Hill” so named because of its dominating view of Natal.
On the night of 16th/17th January Woodgate’s Brigade which included the Lancashire Fusiliers, crossed the Tugela River at Trichard’s Drift. After a long march the Fusiliers pitched camp alongside the river in full view of the Boers on the heights above to deceive them as to their intended point of crossing. With the arrival of nightfall the order was given to strike camp and the night march to the true point of crossing five miles westward along the river began. Charlton noted that the crossing was captured with the loss of only one man and a pontoon bridge quickly put together by the accompanying Royal Engineers.
Charlton was awoken by his Colour Sergeant who whispered that the men were falling in. Within a minute he was formed up with his company listening to the Captain’s orders. The men were to form up in single file, five paces between each man, and advance up the hill firing occasional volley’s at the crest of the hill. If anyone was wounded it was strictly forbidden to stop to render assistance, the stretcher bearers coming up behind would see to them. Even before the men moved off Charlton heard a “curious and sinister sound” which he soon after worked out to be the noise made as enemy bullets passed over his head. As the men moved up the hill the day grew lighter and with it an increase in the sound of rifle fire. A few men were hit but not many, the stretcher bearers went to work. The ground became increasingly rocky and as a consequence the line began to stagger and spread out. Eventually the advance petered out under the enemy fire and the men sought refuge behind natural cover as night began to fall. The Captain of the Company next to Charlton’s came up to him binding his wrist as best he could and told Charlton that he was going to find a dressing station and ordered Charlton to take over his Company and command them in his absence.
Charlton eventually found himself in a pocket of cover huddled around both officers and men sheltering from the Boer fire. A Boer sniper discovered their position and bullets began to ricochet off the rocks around which they took cover. Charlton decided that the snipers position must be discovered and the Boer killed or they would not live to see the following day. He thought he saw movement in a bush about 100 yards off and took a pot shot at it with his revolver but in his excitement failed to realise that he had fired right next to the head of a “crusty old Captain” of his battalion. The Captain was none too happy at the ringing in his ears and in no uncertain terms let Charlton know about it.
A Private soldier of Charlton’s company was sitting behind a large stone taking cover and resting from the advance. As Charlton looked at him, “for no apparent reason, a dark blue spot appeared in the centre of his forehead. An expression of utter bewilderment passed across the man’s face, and he was seized with a slight shivering. The next instant death came.”
Dusk eventually came and it was soon dark enough for the exhausted men to make their way back to the start point. The men reached the bivouac exhausted and immediately found sleep. Charlton lay awake, the images of the day chasing each other across his brain. He noticed that the Colonel lay next to him also awake and they began to talk. The Colonel informed him that about two hundred “good fellows” had been killed. All for no gain, they were back where they started the previous morning. The Colonel informed him that they were to try again the following day.
The attack did not resume the following day, nor the day after that. The men were given plenty of time to recover before resuming duty. Having been through his first combat and survived Charlton was at first keen to try to take the hill again but with the two days rest he found himself apprehensive of the next attack, as it turned out he had good reason to. The 2nd Lancashire Fusiliers were given the honour of being the main body of the attacking column. The attack on Spion Kop was to be made by the eight companies of the 2nd Lancashire Fusiliers, six of the 2nd Royal Lancasters, two of the 1st South Lancashires, 180 men of Thorneycroft’s Mounted Infantry and a half company of Sappers. Just after nightfall the column formed up with the dismounted Thorneycroft’s in the lead. “B” Company, to which Charlton belonged, was roughly in the middle of the column. Strict noise discipline was adhered to, the men carrying empty rifles to eliminate any possibility of an accidental discharge which might alert the Boers of the advancing Britons.
The column moved out in single file and made steady progress. It would be a tough climb of 2,000 feet to reach the summit with some arduous ground to be covered. It was pitch black and the column frequently halted to allow stragglers to catch up. Charlton used these opportunities to rest and slept on every occasion, “even if only for a few minutes”. Out of the darkness came the challenge, “Wer da?”, a few shots rang out, the sound of scampering in the distance and then all
quiet again. There was no point in caution now and the weariness fell from Charlton “like a physical load”. Rifle bolts were clicked as magazines were loaded, orders were shouted between the column, what was deathly silent seconds now rang out with the sounds of men preparing for battle as they scrambled for the summit. As Charlton reached the hilltop he found his Captain who was assembling the Company. It appeared that the Boer picket had been surprised and fled but not before one of them had been bayoneted by one of the Fusiliers officers. Three cheers were given for the benefit of the commanders at the base of the hills to indicate that so far the attack had been successful. The men then set about preparing defensive positions.
It was difficult to pick out good ground for defence in the darkness and many men chose positions that they otherwise would have given a wide berth had they the benefit of full illumination. With what preparation they could do completed, the men, exhausted from the tiresome night march, settled down to sleep. Sleep came easily to Charlton. He awoke to find the sun had risen and a thick cloud covering the mountain top limiting visibility to less than fifty yards. As he lay he noticed the distinctive “zing” that he had first experienced only days ago. Within a few minutes the occasional sound of incoming rifle fire became a constant crescendo. Charlton could hear the Colonel’s voice over the commotion and could see the company next to his moving forward at a run. Charlton knew that his company would be the next to be ordered forward. The situation seemed precarious, the defensive positions and cover chosen in the darkness were inadequate and the enemy was attacking under the cover of the mist and would surely take the position. What had been a sense of relative security just an hour before had been completely stripped. The order was given for “B” Company to leave their present cover and move forward to occupy the edge of the plateau with only luck to protect them from the hail of bullets zipping across the position.
Charlton’s Company had seemed to disappear, his shelter was occupied by men from regiments other than his own. His Captain was not to be seen and he was the only officer in the little group of men clinging by their fingernails to what little cover they could. It was obvious to Charlton that he and every other Briton on that mountain top was in a very precarious position. There seemed no way to escape except surrender but Charlton dismissed this thought immediately. As the shot and shell fell about him, Charlton could see off in the distance the trees and greenery that marked the location of Ladysmith. The British field guns below were unable to locate the Boer artillery and as a result the enemy could fire unhindered into the crowded khaki. The Fusiliers suffered the worst as they clung desperately exposed in the shallow trenches abandoned by the Boers. In the following moments Charlton earned his D.S.O., this description taken from his autobiography Charlton, curiously written in the third person:
“The sun was most infernally hot. Better go slow with the ammunition. He [Charlton] looked behind and immediately wished he had not done so. What he saw seemed like an act of madness. An officer of another regiment, the adjutant in fact, whom he knew slightly, was crossing the open space rearwards and making towards him in apparent oblivion of the fact that to show a finger even in that inferno of bullets was to have it shot off. He was moving at a run, it was true, but so slowly and in such a leisurely manner that he might have been on parade. Charlton watched with a horrid fascination this foolhardy exhibition. After a few more paces, and when within about thirty yards of his own position, the running man quite quietly, though with a certain suddenness, folded himself in half at the middle and subsided. Hastily he looked in the opposite direction so as utterly to disassociate himself from the incident and by so doing evade the unpleasant task of going to the fallen man’s assistance. One could not leave a wounded officer lying out in the open, perhaps bleeding to death, unless, of course, one pretended successfully not to have seen him fall.
But as luck would have it he had not been the only observer. Some one, a few feet away, was saying, “Sir! Sir!” again and again. Instinctively he knew the import of this reiteration. Whoever was speaking had seen the thing also and wanted to direct his attention to it. For a little he feigned not to hear, but the voice was so persistent that there was nothing for it but to look in its direction. It was a private in the regiment to which the wounded officer belonged, and as their glances met the infernal fellow pointed with his arm at the sprawled figure saying, “Sir, our adjutant!” This supplied the necessary spur to courage. One might act the craven to oneself. In such a case there was only a single witness against, and he a prejudiced one. But one could not show hesitation or fear before the men, for to do so was to lose every sense of shame and be followed by whispers through life. So he intimated to the man that he would see to it and took several long breaths.
By dint of stooping and crawling he had almost reached his goal in safety when he felt his flesh just above the left knee to be as if threaded in lightning swiftness by a red-hot bodkin, and at the same time he was knocked over on to his side. So utterly novel, and outside all calculation, was this effect from an, apparently, impersonal cause, he was slow to realise that he had been wounded. It seemed incredible that he, whose star was lucky, should have been brought low by a chance shot. But was it a chance shot? Was he perchance the deliberate target of an enemy marksman? While these conjectures were passing through his mind and while he was still gathering his wits, a most remarkable thing happened. The wounded officer, whom he had set out to rescue and who until then had lain crumpled and motionless, suddenly started to his feet, clapped both hands to his face, and ran, as if the devil were after him, towards the rear and safety.
Panic communicated panic. Alone in the open, the object of his solicitude no more than a speck in the distance, or fast becoming so, fear possessed him to the exclusion of everything else. He scrambled as best he could to his feet and made for the nearest cover at top speed, reckless of the consequences to his wound and only anxious to be safe if but for a moment.”
Charlton somehow made it through the hail of lead and threw himself behind the closest piece of ground which in any sense resembled cover. It was a boulder, behind which he found his Captain who had been unable to move from his position from the start due to the volume and intensity of fire. Charlton had not made it to the cover untouched, a bullet had taken the top off a finger. He bound his leg as best he could which was already beginning to stiffen up. He sought answers from the Captain as to their situation but the Captain was unable to provide any information as his entire world for the last few hours began and ended with what he could see from his position behind the boulder, it would have been suicide to move from his cover. The Captain offered the young Lieutenant a flask of brandy which he at first declined but in the same thought took up the offer.
The plateau that the British held was very narrow, less than 100 yards in places. Coke’s reserve Brigade of Imperial Light Infantry, 2nd Somersets, 2nd Dorsets and 2nd Middlesex were rushed
up the hill, later to be followed by the Scottish Rifles from Lyttelton’s Brigade, but rather than evening the situation, they added to the toll. The additional men could do nothing against the invisible Boer cannon and pom-pom which were taking such a devilish toll and just multiplied the men cringing behind the already inadequate and limited cover. There were 4,000 men seeking cover in an area which would have given scant cover to 500. The troops were forced to bunch together to take refuge from the murderous shellfire which scorched every corner of the position. The Boers were so close that on more than one occasion Boer and Briton sheltered behind the same boulder. At around two o’clock the Boers rushed and captured a trench occupied by the Fusiliers and took the remnants of two company’s as prisoners, but were shortly thereafter driven out again.
Charlton and his Captain clung to their cover as the hours wore on and the day grew longer, slowly, oh so slowly the fire abated until it was reasonably safe to leave cover and look for what remained of the Company. Charlton and the Fusiliers had been under a murderous fire for 12 hours without respite. The men were battle-shocked, thirsty, some completely incoherent from the battering they had taken. Some men had been wounded, wounded and wounded again. 1,500 men lay dead and dying on the Kop, all virtually within reach of each other in the confined space. The proportion of those being killed to those being wounded being abnormally high due to the artillery fire which raked the position from end to end.
Charlton was carried down the hill on a stretcher, an exhausting task for the carriers to wind their way downhill through the rough terrain after what they had been through. As they had put Charlton and his stretcher down to recover their breath, a soldier hurriedly making his way down the slope accidentally stepped directly on top of Charlton’s wound. Upon reaching the dressing station quickly erected at the base of the hill to accept all the incoming wounded, Charlton’s leg was hastily bound and he was put to rest. Within the next day or so he endured a rough journey by mule ambulance to a larger hospital and eventually Durban and a hospital ship where he spent two months recovering. It was whilst convalescing that he heard that his Battalion had been withdrawn to Pietermaritzburg and of the horrendous toll taken by them at Spion Kop. The 2nd Battalion, Lancashire Fusiliers had suffered the worst of all units involved. Of the 1,500 casualties across six battalions, the Fusiliers had lost 22 officers and 450 men killed, wounded, missing and captured.
After recovering from his wounds Charlton rejoined his regiment in time to participate in the battle of Laing’s Nek. A few weeks later a Captain from Gough’s Mounted Infantry visited the camp with the objective of recruiting some of the officers into his unit. Charlton was excited by the thought of mounted patrolling across the veldt. He joined the M.I. in June 1900 and served with them until April 1901. Meanwhile the call had gone out for more mounted men and Charleton, much to his surprise, was put forward to command the new 109th Company (Yorkshire Hussars) Imperial Yeomanry.
The Yorkshire Hussars were employed, with many other yeomanry units, in the cat and mouse search for De Wet and other Boer leaders. The monotony of day after day of the same rigmarole began to wear Charlton down and he found himself longing for the war to be over. On February 18th, 1902, at around noon one of his scouts came galloping back to camp at full pace and Charlton immediately knew something was up. The Boer commando which they had been vaguely pursuing had bivouacked on a low series of hills immediately across their path near Wagonaars Kraal.
The regimental history records: ‘Orders were at once given to move on to the right, 109th still in front. Captain Charlton detailed Corporal Burns and two men to scout a large kopje in front, and they there discovered Boers covering the retreat of the commando which was at a farm behind the kopje getting their horses away. On Captain Charlton coming up with his men, he was met with a withering fire from the enemy, Captain Charlton and Corporal Smith being wounded, whilst the former’s horse was shot in five places. The 109th were supported by the Tasmanian’s, and drove the Boers off.’ Corporal Burns was subsequently awarded the sole D.C.M. to the battalion.
After the excitement of active service, Charleton was not prepared for the boredom of home service and immediately enquired about an overseas appointment. As a result he received a posting as a Company Commander to the Gold Coast Regiment and he served in that Colony for the next five years, 1902-07. In 1908 he was appointed as Aide-de-Camp to the Governor of the Leeward Islands, where he remained for the next two years. After a brief period in India, Charlton passed his Staff College exam and found himself once again at Sandhurst. Here, he contracted a fascination for aeroplanes and flight, and made arrangements for a course of instruction at the Flying School at Brooklands. He obtained his pilots license in 1913 and joined the Royal Flying Corps, being sent to the Central Flying School on Salisbury Plain for a three months’ course of advanced instruction. Charleton qualified as an army aviator in the spring of 1914 and was posted to No. 3 Squadron, Royal Flying Corps, retaining his present rank of Captain.
No. 3 Squadron received orders for France and on 12th August 1914, flew from the cliffs of Dover across the Channel, a very anxious trip for the pilots as if the machines went down in the water they had little chance of survival. Being O.C. “A” Flight, Charlton’s machine was a two seater Bleriot XI monoplane with an 80 horse-power Gnome engine. The Squadron was to fly from Amiens to Maubeuge the following day. Charlton is the last to take off and as he circles the landing strip he sees the aircraft which preceded his, flown by 2nd Lieut. Perry and 2.A.M. Parfelt, crumpled and in flames on the ground, both men were killed. There is nothing he can do so flies on to Maubeuge. A large grey storm cloud lies between Charlton and his destination and there is nothing for it but to go through, he completely loses his direction and comes out of the cloud in a dive out of control with just enough height to make a landing. He and his mechanic are immediately arrested by French villagers who take him and his passenger to be German. They are taken to Peronne where they are able to identify themselves and are released. Just before dusk he finally makes Maubeuge weary but none the worse for wear from his ordeal.
On the 22nd August 1914, Lieutenant Wadham and Captain Charlton set out on a reconnaissance mission, Charlton, because of his experience is made observer despite outranking the pilot, a common practice in the early days of the Royal Flying Corps. What follows is his own description of the reconnaissance that he submitted for publication in the Lancashire Fusiliers Regimental Journal of 1915:
‘I was ordered to make a reconnaissance from Maubeuge, via Charleroi and Louvain, to Brussels, and thence homewards via Mons. All went well as far as Brussels; Charleroi was on fire I remember, and I thought the sight of it from the air compared with one of Dore’s illustrations to Dante’s Inferno. Every village, farm and building in the countryside was in flames, and from a height of 6000 feet the picture was one of extraordinary desolation. After arriving over Brussels I was very dissatisfied because I had discovered nothing of sufficient importance to report on my return. I had seen transport and troops here and there on the road, but no great movement of army corps which I knew I was expected to find.
When I turned south from Brussels, out height was about 6000 feet and we got into a lot of clouds. This caused us to lose our bearings a little and made it difficult to distinguish the actual villages by name as they are very thickly scattered in this part. In two or three places I saw Taube monoplanes on the ground and knowing that these machines were operating with Uhlans
at the time, I thought I must be near the head of the German advance. In order to ascertain this positively and also to collect my exact bearings I decided to land and did so in a large meadow near Grammont. The villagers swooped down on us headed by the mayor, who was of the type ‘village gossip’. It did not take long to discover that we had landed absolutely in the midst of a large concentration of German troops, the nearest of which was about a quarter of an hour’s walk away.
After collecting some quite good information as to their strength, their nature, their conversation etc, I very hurriedly switched on the engine and started off hoping for the best. When about 500 feet up, I flew plumb over a German brigade halted for the dinner hour. I could see the regiments with piled arms, each in its own formation with the officers messing at the head, and a little beyond in the same field what was evidently the Brigade Headquaters, also at feed. I imagine someone must have said: ‘By Jove! There goes an English aeroplane; lets have it.’ At any rate, every man jack jumped up to his feet and loosed off at us.
The machine was naturally punctured all over. I got two through my belt, and was rather perturbed to see two of the main spars shot through. What surprises me now is that I very coolly and calmly hove three bombs into the midst of them, two of which took effect, and after that I was able to empty the magazine of my rifle right into the ‘Brown’. I attribute my coolness and calmness to the fact that there was nothing else to do but to be cool and calm. At any rate we went on.
Five minutes later at 1200 feet we went over identically the same thing again, with the addition of field guns and machine guns. These had been warned by the noise of firing from away back and were ready for us. The machine was again punctured through and through, but still both myself and the other fellow were unhurt. Yet again the same thing happened at about 2000 feet. Thereafter, by dint of climbing hard, which was a little difficult, as the machine was somewhat war worn, we got to 4000 feet and found ourselves over the lines occupied by the British at Mons. This was the worst time we had of all, because the British let us have it properly. More punctures in the machine, strips out of the wings and the tail plane, about a foot long.
This is the whole thing, except that when we got down safely and found the information we had collected was valuable to our Headquaters, and also the French. Counting up afterwards we discovered between 30 and 40 separate holes in the aeroplane, not counting the two through my belt.’
During this historic flight, Charlton dropped three small bombs and fired his rifle at the Germans as he flew over them. These are believed to have been the first such aerial attacks of the Great War.
The pilot of the aircraft on this mission was Lieut. V. H. N. Wadham who was flying with Charlton when they were involved in a flying accident in September of the same year. The German Brigade’s that they discovered were part of von Kluck’s II Corps, of vital importance to the British and French. As soon as the Bleriot had landed Charlton left Wadham inspecting the bullet holes whilst he reported to the Commander and Deputy of the R.F.C., Sir David Henderson and Lieutenant-Colonel Sykes respectively. The information of the position of the German Corps was immediately forwarded to Sir John French’s H.Q. where Charlton’s report was assessed and decisions made for orders to be issued for the 23rd, the day that the Battle of Mons started, a battle that would decide the fate of the B.E.F.
James McCudden, later V.C. and one of Britains highest scoring fighter aces, was a mechanic in No. 3 Squadron, R.F.C. at the outbreak of war and in his book writes, ‘Only the older members of the RFC and the senior officers of the Army know of the value of the reconnaissance work carried out at this stage of the war by Captain Charlton. That it was invaluable is generally acknowledged, and it is generally believed that Captain Charlton and Mr. Conran between them were primarily responsible for spotting the great German attempt to outflank the British Army, and so enabled it to make the great retreat from Mons which saved it from being cut up in detail.’
At the end of September 1914, Charlton was again flying as an observer with Wadham when they crashed whilst landing near Hinges. Charlton suffered a serious leg injury and was sent home. After his recovery he commanded No. 8 Squadron from January to August 1915. After this he undertook several staff appointments, such as Director of Military Aeronautics at the War Officer, and commander of the 5th Brigade in France during the winter of 1917-18, with the rank of Brigadier-General.
Charlton personally played an important role in the events which followed the downing of Baron Manfred von Richthofen on 21st March 1918. 209 Squadron, to which Canadian Captain Roy Brown, D.S.C., who had claimed the “kill” as his own, belonged, was part of V Brigade, R.F.C., and thus Charlton was his Brigade Commander. The flawed medical report on the path of the bullet that killed von Richthofen was submitted to Brigadier Charlton for his consideration as to whether the fatal bullet had come from the air or from ground fire. Charlton decided that on the basis of the report the fatal bullet could only have been fired by Captain Brown.
For his services very early on in the war Charlton was made a Chevalier of the Legion of Honour, and for his services commanding No. 8 Squadron in France, was made a C.M.G. For his later services he was awarded the C.B. and promoted from Chevalier to Officer of the Legion of Honour, besides two mentions in despatches. After the war he was appointed as the Air Attaché to the British Embassy in Washington D.C. from 1919 to 1922. He took part in the ‘Great Transcontinental Air Race’ of 1919, a round trip from New York to California and back again. Unfortunately his Bristol fighter developed engine trouble shortly after take off and he had to crash land, wrecking his machine, near Ithaca, New York.Following service as Chief of Staff of the R.A.F. Iraq Command, he retired in 1928 with the rank of Air Commodore. Leo Charlton died at Hexham, Northumberland, on 18 April 1958.
The group is sold with a good amount of detailed research and original copies of his two autobiographies, Charlton published in about 1930, and More Charlton published in about 1940. The first volume contains several good portrait photographs and both are written, rather unusually, in the third person.
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