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

A fine ‘Western Front’ M.C., ‘Gallipoli’ D.C.M. group of eight awarded to Captain J. C. Devoy, Royal Dublin Fusiliers, later Supply and Transport Corps

Military Cross, G.V.R.; Distinguished Conduct Medal, G.V.R. (10335 Sjt., 1/R. Dub. F.); 1914-15 Star (10335 L.-Cpl., R. Dub. Fus.); British War and Victory Medals, with M.I.D. oak leaf (Capt.); India General Service 1908-35, 2 clasps, Mahsud 1919-20, Waziristan 1919-21(Capt., S. & T.C.); War Medal 1939-45; France, Medaille Militaire, last with damage to enamel, otherwise nearly very fine or better (8) £3000-4000

M.C. London Gazette 4 February 1918 ‘For conspicuous gallantry and devotion to duty when in command of the leading platoon of his company in an attack. He personally rushed a blockhouse containing a machine-gun, and though wounded at five yards range continued to lead his men and captured the blockhouse, gun and crew. He made a daring personal reconnaissance which greatly assisted his company in gaining the further objective. He showed splendid courage and determination.’

D.C.M. London Gazette 2 February 1916 ‘For conspicuous gallantry and devotion on the 21st August 1915, at Suvla Bay. The gorse having been ignited by the enemy’s shells, Sergeant Devoy exhibited great bravery in fighting the flames and thus enabling a stack of reserve ammunition to be saved.’

M.I.D. London Gazette 28 January 1916 (Gallipoli).

French M.M. London Gazette 24 February 1916.

The following is extracted from Personal Experiences of The Great War, by Frank M. Laird: ‘Sergeant Devoy of the 1st Dublins, small, quiet, modest of demeanour, D.C.M., Croix de Guerre (sic), and an old Clongowes boy, was a most agreeable companion during these days, and, as we billeted together, I had plenty of converse with him. His people had destined him for the priesthood, but he took matters into his own hands and departed to sea, where he spent some years as a super cargo. Then he found his way into the army, and had spent five years in India before the war. He had been on the River Clyde at [‘V’] Beach, Gallipoli. He was in one of the boats which first attempted to land. Man after man was hit, and then a shell burst over them and knocked the boat to pieces. He swam to a barge nearby and caught the side, but was unable to climb on board, as the Turks had a machine-gun trained on it, and it was covered with dead British. Here he hung for several hours till he was got on board the River Clyde after dark and his legs and feet chafed into life again.

Next morning he had to go ashore by the gangway. He noticed that a machine-gun from Seddul Bahr fort, into which you could have thrown an orange from the steamer, was playing on the end of the gangway, and each man was hit as he got there. Accordingly, throwing away his rifle and equipment, he dived off the side of the gangway and swam underwater to a rock which gave some shelter, and from it made his way to the slight bank of sand on the beach under which the survivors found shelter. When they drove the Turks through Seddul Bahr there was very hot fighting. It was necessary to follow them through winding passages of the fort, where his party was led by an officer followed by the toughest blackguard in the regiment. The officer’s face was soon bleeding from chips of stone sent flying by the bullets fired at him as he rounded each corner.

While in the fort Devoy and a comrade went into one large empty room with a few rugs in the corner. The silence after the din without seemed eerie, and Devoy said he was going, as there was no one there. “Wait a minute,” said his friend “till we make sure” and fired into the rugs, when a Johnny Turk rolled out.

When asked how he had got the D.C.M. Devoy explained that when the hill went on fire one day, he found a bag of what he took to be tins of jam and ran off with it, thinking it would be acceptable in the mess, and it turned out to be bombs!

I parted from this good friend in Naas in February 1916, when he went for a commission. I met him next in January 1918, at the base in France, a Captain with five wound stripes, and a chest covered with ribands. He had made good use of his time, and happily he survived to become an officer of the Indian Army.’

The following information is extracted from the Royal Dublin Fusiliers regimental history, Neill’s “Blue Caps:” Of the share of the Battalion in this fighting [Gallipoli 25 April - 1 May 1915] Captain Devoy writes “The 21 men who garrisoned one particular bit of trench died to a man in the trench. One man, I recollect, a signaller had as many as nineteen wounds. Of course it was hand-to-hand fighting - no quarter was asked or given. Towards morning several of us were using Turkish rifles and ammunition, our own from over-work refused to function. The following morning a patrol of twelve of us, under Company Sergeant Major Ferguson, sallied out (it was Fergusson’s own idea) to chase away one or two snipers, and if my memory serves me rightly, our total bag of live captives was 38, gleaned from all sorts of holes and corners.’

The opening of the battle [of the Somme] had been planned for June 28th [1916], but the weather was so tempestuous that it was put off until it should moderate, but on moving up to the position detailed the Royal Dublin Fusiliers were ordered to make a raid on the German trenches either on the night of the 28th or early morning of the 29th, and a party of two officers, Lieutenant Gun-Cuninghame and Second Lieutenant Devoy, and eighty other ranks was told off for this duty. The raiding party reached the front line very early on the 29th, and Second Lieutenant Devoy laid the tape on the enemy’s wire before our barrage lifted, but was wounded on his way back, Second Lieutenant Pearson taking his place.

On arriving near the enemy’s wire fire was opened on the party with bombs, rifle grenades, rifles, machine-guns and trench mortars, and the party was forced to retire. All ranks behaved admirably, and some with conspicuous gallantry in bringing in the dead and wounded. The casualties were three men killed, two officers (Cuninghame and Devoy) and seven other ranks wounded, while nineteen men were at first reported missing, but next day six of these reported themselves, having remained hidden from the enemy in shell holes in No Man’s Land.’

The regimental history also confirms Devoy as being wounded during the Battle of Arras 9 - 23 April 1917, and gives the following interesting story narrated by Devoy in regard to the Battle of Ypres: ‘When I went back to have a wound dressed I found [Lieutenant] Seale lying in a shell hole badly hit through an artery high up in the leg. Lying beside him was a young Boche, scarcely more than a boy, holding the severed ends of the artery tightly with his half frozen fingers, which were blue with cold. He undoubtedly saved Seale’s life.’