Auction Catalogue

24 May 2023

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Orders, Decorations, Medals and Militaria

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Lot

№ 99

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24 May 2023

Hammer Price:
£2,600

‘Sergeant Fotheringham, a chap I got the D.C.M. for at Ypres, was with me, and he kept bringing the men on in the most magnificent way, and he was wonderful from first to last, and if he had lived would have got a V.C. or bar to his D.C.M.’
(Scots Guard, by Captain W. H. G. Ewart refers)

A fine Great War ‘Ypres 1917’ D.C.M. group of four awarded to Lance-Sergeant J. Fotheringham, Scots Guards, for gallantry at Wijdendrigt on 14-15 September during a heavy gas barrage when he rescued a wounded comrade; he died of wounds received in the battle of Cambrai, 26 November 1917

Distinguished Conduct Medal, G.V.R. (12015 A.L. Sjt: J. Fotheringham. 2/S. Gds:); 1914-15 Star (12015 Pte. J. Fotheringham. S. Gds:); British War and Victory Medals (12015 A. Cpl. J. Fotheringham. S. Gds.) together with Memorial Plaque (James Fotheringham) contact marks and polished, otherwise nearly very fine (5) £1,200-£1,600

D.C.M. London Gazette 19 November 1917; citation published 6 February 1918:

‘For conspicuous gallantry and devotion to duty in charge of a party of men loading trucks. When the enemy put down a heavy gas barrage he collected his scattered parties, superintended the adjustment of box-respirators, and guided them down the track. Hearing that a wounded man had been left behind he returned with two stretcher bearers through a gas barrage and brought him to the dressing station.’
Annotated gazette states: ‘Wijdendrigt, 14-15 September 1917’.


James Fotheringham served with the 2nd battalion, Scots Guards, in France from 25 May 1915. He won the D.C.M. for gallantry at Ypres in September 1917 and died of wounds received during the battle of Cambrai on 26 November 1917. His death during an attack on Bourlon Wood is described by Lieutenant (later Captain) W. H. G. Ewart in his book Scots Guard:

‘We then found some very windy Highlanders and dismounted cavalry, and we got orders to push on and drive the Bosches out at daybreak. This of course was sheer open fighting, and quite different from anything we had done before except on field days. As soon as it got light the three companies advanced in extended order, and it was not long before the bullets began to fly, and Howard's Company got hung up by machine-guns on the left. Consequently we could not get on. Desultory and sometimes very sharp fighting went on for about two and a half hours. We sniped a lot of Bosches. Then Howard got badly wounded, and it was obvious the Bosches were too strong for us. As a matter of fact we afterwards heard that the north-east part of the wood was held by two Battalions of the Third Prussian Guard Division and must simply have been swarming with them, so we could hardly expect to take it with three companies. Later in the morning we were told the Bosches must be cleared out at all costs, and we had to attack again at two o’clock, with the First Guards Brigade on our right. This was at 1.15, so there was not much time to arrange it, and I had the wind up as never before, feeling certain that it was impossible to take the place owing to the machine-guns which were supposed to be rushed with the bayonet, but which nobody really knew the whereabouts and number of. We lined along a summer ride and went over just at the tail end of a sleet-storm. There was a short and quite useless machine-gun barrage, no artillery. Just after we had gone over, Tyringham tried to stop us, as the Command realised the hopelessness of it, but it was then too late. F Company got ahead on the right and I heard a lot of firing. Sergeant Fotheringham, a chap I got the D.C.M. for at Ypres, was with me, and he kept bringing the men on in the most magnificent way, and he was wonderful from first to last, and if he had lived would have got a V.C. or bar to his D.C.M. When we got to the more open part of the wood I saw what had happened - just as I expected. Menzies, the Company Commander, and Sergeant Maclean with all the leading men of F Company had been laid out together trying to rush the machine-guns. At the same moment the two machine-guns slewed round on to us, and I realised that we were only about fifteen yards from one of them. Of course we flung ourselves down, Sergeant Fotheringham, a man called Grant - the same that was wounded at Neuve Chapelle - in F Company, and myself; and for the next twenty minutes there was nothing but a young oak-tree between us three and eternity. The machine-gun fired absolutely point blank, but could not quite reach us on account of the tree. Most of the platoon got down in a depression about twenty-five yards behind, but about eight men, including two Lewis Gunners, were almost up with us. These kept on firing for all they were worth, and the Lewis Gunners working their guns in the open until they were killed. Every man was killed one after the other, and Grant is the only man left alive besides myself. Then the Bosches started throwing phosphorous bombs at the dead and wounded, which set light to them and burnt them up. I thought I had seen most of the nasty things in this war, but this was the nastiest by a long way. By this time the rest of the men had retired, but we three were still lying behind the tree, unable to move an eyelid. However, after about twenty minutes the Germans got tired of shooting, and we decided to get away if possible one by one. Grant went first, and got across the open all right, though fired at from each side. Then Sergeant Fotheringham volunteered to try and get one of the Lewis guns away. He had his arm shattered at once, but managed to crawl back, only to die at the dressing-station. He was a great friend of mine and I feel his loss very much. I waited about five minutes and then did a lightning sprint on my stomach, and by all natural laws ought to have been hit - the bullets were knocking stones up into my face. However, I got back in the end. It was an experience I shall never wish to repeat, and it is no compensation for the loss of people like Menzies, and Sergeants Fotheringham and Maclean to know that what they were asked to do was absolutely impossible. It is little consolation even to know that the Corps General has been sent home.’

Sergeant James Fotheringham died of wounds on 26 November 1917, aged 27, husband of Hannah Matilda Fotheringham, of Caulfield Road, East Ham, London. He is buried in Orival Wood Cemetery, Flesquieres.

Sold with an original photograph of the recipient together with copied research including D.C.M. and Medal Index Cards, annotated Gazette, and War Diary entries.