Orders, Decorations, Medals and Militaria

Family Group:

Five: Group Captain P. E. Raymond, Royal Air Force, a prolific author who wrote about his experiences in the Second World War in ‘Back to Humanity’
1939-45 Star; France and Germany Star; War Medal 1939-45; General Service 1918-62, 1 clasp, Malaya, E.II.R. (Fg. Off. P. E. Raymond. R.A.F.); General Service 1962-2007, 1 clasp, Malay Peninsula (Wg. Cdr. P. E. Raymond R.A.F.) mounted court-style as worn; together with the recipient’s related miniature awards (these also including a Defence Medal) edge nick to last, traces of lacquer, good very fine and better

One: Mrs. Z. I. M. Raymond
Defence Medal, with Home Secretary’s enclosure, in named card box of issue addressed to ‘Mrs. Z. I. M. Raymond, 140a South Road, Haywards Heath, Sussex’, extremely fine (6) £400-£500

Patrick Ernest Raymond was born in Haywards Heath, Sussex on 25 September 1924, the son of the novelist Ernest Raymond O.B.E., who was best known for his first novel, Tell England (1922), set in the Great War. Patrick Raymond trained as a Wireless Operator in 1944 and crewed up with the almost exclusively Canadian crew of Flight Sergeant Jack Fraser, Royal Canadian Air Force in 78 Squadron in August 1944, and between 2 November 1944 and 23 February 1945 completing a tour of 37 operations. His crew also included the artist Miller Gore Brittan, who was the bomb aimer, who was later appointed an official war artist and completed a number of works which feature his experiences with the crew including ‘Night Target, Germany.’

Like his father, Raymond became a prolific author: his first book was written in association with his father Ernest Raymond called ‘Back to Humanity’, published in 1945. It describes in intricate detail his experiences during the War as a member of an Operational Aircrew, and in particular the conflicting emotions he experienced on his first bombing raid, to Dusseldorf on 2 November 1944:

‘Life became faster at the end of the summer of 1944. I had joined an aircrew - a good-natured bunch of Canadians - and together we scrambled through the last phases of training. Nearly 18 months in the Air Force culminated when we were sent to a Halifax Squadron of Bomber Command. Yes, this was what we had waited for. We had been anticipating operations for a period of time that had turned into years and here we were: here were the Halifaxes and the bombs, the aircrews ands the rumours of war. And it was exciting. Here was that adventure that I had dreamed about - that we had dreamed about - through the early stages of training. The blokes were speaking of new things: of flak and searchlights; of good and bad targets; of raiding Germany and the Low Countries.
At half-past four we were in the Briefing Room. ‘Well, chaps, the target for tonight is Dusseldorf. Some of you have been there before. The town has been very badly hit in previous raids, so I gather that the idea tonight is to complete the job. Your aiming point is here; it is a big target so there is every chance that your bombs will go home. Pathfinders will mark the aiming points with indicators. This squadron will be in the third wave.”
Well, here was reality. The engines were starting all round the perimeter track. The airfield began to throb with the sound of aero-engines, some near, some distant. And then, one by one, the big aircraft lumbered out onto the perimeter track to roll down to the runway. And then began the long hours of flying to the target. It grew dark almost at once. The sound of the engines went on and on - a deep sound, it was steady and strong. And here again was doubt, a persistent companion. He had a lot to say as the dark cavernous clouds meandered by. And the futility of it all was easy to understand now. We were not really enjoying it; it was going against the grain. And the people of Dusseldorf? They were not going to enjoy it either.
“Say, chaps, isn’t that the target?” Yes that was the target. The pathfinders had really lit the place up. The brightly coloured flares were falling towards the ground. And, oh Lord, here came the searchlights, long slender stilettos reaching through the gaps in the clouds. And then there was flak - sudden rose-coloured flashes that danced around the bomb stream.
The bomb aimer took over from here. It was his job to guide us into the target.
“Left twenty degrees” he said (Heavens! This was taking an eternity).
“Left, Left, Steady.” (God, look at those lights!)
“Steady.” (For heaven’s sake drop them, man, and let’s get out of here.)
“Steady. Bombs away!” (Look out, here comes the flak again).
We lost something over the target, something that was drowned by the stronger emotions of contact. It was hard to think of anything now, hard to think about what might have happened. Something seemed to have snapped. Some drug seemed to have taken effect. It was with impunity that we watched the bombs fall.’ (Back to Humanity by Ernest and Patrick Raymond refers).

Raymond was commissioned Pilot Officer in the Royal Air Force (General Duties Branch) on 25 January 1945, before transferring to the Secretarial Branch following the cessation of hostilities. He spent the next 22 years in the Royal Air Force, rising to the rank of Group Captain, and his final posting was as Station Commander of R.A.F. Uxbridge. Meanwhile he continued writing, and further books included A City of Scarlet and Gold, 1963; The Lordly Ones, 1965; The Sea Garden, 1970; The Last Soldier, 1974; A Matter of Assassination, 1977; The White War, 1978; The Grand Admiral, 1980; Daniel and Esther, 1989; The Maple Moon, 1990; and Chika the Serb, 1994. He died at Cuckfield, Sussex, in May 2015.

Sold with copies of two of his books, Back to Humanity and The White War; a photographic image of Raymond with Fraser’s Crew; and a large quantity of copied research including details of the recipient’s operational sorties.