Orders, Decorations, Medals and Militaria

An outstanding Second World War B.E.M. group of four awarded to Third Steward J. C. Edmead, Merchant Navy, one of only three survivors out of the 56 men and women who crammed into a damaged lifeboat from the torpedoed City of Cairo: picked up by the German blockade runner Rhakotis after 36 days adrift, Edmead once again had to take to a lifeboat when the Rhakotis was sunk by H.M.S. Scylla three weeks later

British Empire Medal, (Civil) G.VI.R., 1st issue (John Cheetham Edmead); 1939-45 Star; Atlantic Star; War Medal 1939-45, together with related set of dress miniatures, good very fine and better (8) £1000-1200

B.E.M. London Gazette 7 December 1943. The joint citation states:

‘The ship, sailing alone, was torpedoed in darkness. She sustained heavy damage and commenced to settle rapidly by the stern. When it was seen that the vessel could not be saved, abandonment was ordered ... Another boat went independently in order to obtain help. Land, however, was missed and, after 13 days, the officer-in-charge died through exposure. Quarter-Master MacDonald then took charge of the boat. By the thirty-sixth day he and Third Steward Edmead were the only survivors. They were picked up by a German blockade runner and remained in the enemy ship for about three weeks, when she was sunk by a British cruiser. Quarter-Master MacDonald got away in a lifeboat with German survivors and was picked up later by a U-Boat. He is now a prisoner of war. Third Steward Edmead abandoned the ship in another boat and was rescued after five days. Quarter-Master MacDonald and Third Steward Edmead displayed outstanding courage and fortitude throughout their severe and protracted ordeal.’

John Cheetham Edmead was actually one of three crew members from the City of Cairo to be awarded the B.E.M. following the loss of that ship to torpedo attack on 6 November 1942, while on passage from Table Bay to Pernambuco; the Captain received an O.B.E. and three of his Officers the M.B.E., while four others received official commendations, one of them posthumously. Unusually, too, one M.B.E., one B.E.M. and a commendation went to her passengers, awards that no doubt reflected their great gallantry in open lifeboats at the mercy of the elements for several weeks - one of these boats was adrift for nearly two months. Perhaps no less unusual was the consideration of the U-Boat commander who sunk them in the first place. Having encouraged the survivors to collect together in several boats, he ensured that they were given the bearings and distance of the nearest landfall at St. Helena. He then bade them “Goodnight, [and] sorry for sinking you”: indeed Kapitan Mertens became a welcome guest at post-war City of Cairo reunions, one survivor stating “We could not have been sunk by a nicer man.”

Edmead found himself in lifeboat No. 1, one of six to be utilised by the assorted survivors: badly damaged from the torpedo explosion, two hour pumping watches had to be maintained to keep her afloat, while crammed within her leaking hull were 23 Europeans - including two women - and 31 natives. Over a month later, just Edmead, Quarter-Master Angus MacDonald and one of the women passengers, the very courageous 21 year old Diana Jarman, were left. Tragically, she died after having an emergency operation aboard the German blockade runner, a fate that undoubtedly accounted for her omission from the honours and awards announced in The London Gazette on 7 December 1943. The poet laureate and a former merchant seaman, John Masefield, subsequently wrote of ‘a quiet English girl’ who behaved with a ‘simple splendour’, a fact not lost on Edmead who witnessed her constant care and attention of those less fortunate during their 36 day ordeal adrift.

The following extract was taken from Edmead’s original statement to Naval Intelligence on his final repatriation to England:

‘ ... After about the tenth day, as land was not sighted, the natives grew very low spirited, becoming unwilling to assist in bailing the boat. Consequently the Europeans had to do twice as much work. Some of the natives began to drink salt water about this time, which made them more thirsty, and from the tenth day the sun beat down on us unmercifully and it was impossible to keep cool. An old flag was torn up and each man was given a small piece to put over his head. On the 11th day the first native died, and during the next few days they died two or three at a time. It was about this time that some of the Europeans began to lose heart, several of them dying at various intervals. Death in each case appeared to follow an attack of delirium lasting about three hours. From this time onwards the crew gradually lost their appetites and the water situation was very grave. On the 14th day the Chief Officer died, so Captain MacCall, R.N., took charge and carried on with the steering. Some of the men gargled with salt water while others used a solution of iodine and salt water, but after the 15th day several of them suffered fropm acute sore throats. One of the Quarter-Masters developed a high fever which lasted for three days before he died; just about this time Captain MacCall died during the 16th day. The men now died on various days until on the 28th day there were only six of us left - the water had practically given out and there was only one more ration remaining for each. We were all feeling very tired and disinclined to work but the boat had to be bailed out morning and night in order to keep her afloat. During the evening of the 29th day we experienced a heavy rain storm. We all drank as much water as we could and then caught some rain in the jib, finally collecting about three quarters of a gallon which was put into one of the empty water beakers. Three more of the men died during the night, leaving only Angus MacDonald, Quarter-Master, one woman passenger, and myself. We carried on during the next week, the water ration being so small that we could not eat any food. I used to bail the boat out for one hour in the morning and one and half hours at night, but on the 36th morning the water was up to the thwarts and I was unable to do any further bailing. At 0830 on the 36th morning - 12th December - I suddenly heard the noise of an engine, which appeared to be very close to the lifeboat ... a few minutes later the ship came alongside, lowered a ladder and a seaman came down into the boat. He put a sling round each of us and we were hoisted on board. I thought it was an American ship, but on asking one of the crew I learned she was the German blockade runner Rhakotis ...’

Far greater detail of his ordeal may be found in Ralph Barker’s Goodnight, Sorry for Sinking You, the full story of the sinking of the City of Cairo, and the subsequent fate of her survivors, an account which makes frequent references to Edmead (copy included with Lot). First news of his story, however, appeared in The Daily Mail, and a more lengthy account then appeared in the Sunday Express of 28 February 1943. By that stage, Edmead was employed in touring the country, giving lectures on behalf of the Ministry of Information highlighting the valuable and hazardous work of the Merchant Navy. Later still he worked for the United Nations Refugee Organisation making voyages across the Atlantic to settle displaced people. After the War, Edmead spent many years employed in East Africa, finally retiring to North Wales where he died in October 1981, aged 76 years.

Sold with a quantity of related documentation, including original letters from the Hall Line (of Ellerman Lines) to the recipient’s wife, one informing her that his ship had been lost through enemy action (dated 2 December 1942), and the other that news of his survival had been verified at Gibraltar, where he had been landed on his return journey to the U.K., via Lisbon (dated 13 January 1943); together with a quantity of newspaper articles, including Ralph Barker’s Sunday Express features on the loss of the City of Cairo in 1981, which led to Edmead being traced and his subsequent book, Goodnight, Sorry for Sinking You; and a cassette recording from the early 1980s featuring a BBC play based on Edmead’s story.