Orders, Decorations, Medals and Militaria

The outstanding Second War posthumous ‘London Blitz’ mine disposal G.C. group of eight awarded to Chief Petty Officer R. V. Ellingworth, Royal Navy, the first naval rating to receive a direct award of the George Cross.

A protégé of the pioneering parachute mine disposal specialist Lieutenant-Commander R. J. H. Ryan, G.C., Royal Navy, he helped render safe just such devices, including the first ‘C’ Type, the whole at a time when preferred expertise and knowledge were at a minimum.

Nonetheless, on approaching a challenging parachute mine at Dagenham on 21 September 1940, an eyewitness saw the pair of them ‘upright, striding confidently’ towards the entrance of the building from which it was dangling from the roof. Shortly afterwards, as they commenced work on extracting the fuse, it sprang into action, the resultant explosion causing instantaneous death and destruction.

In one of those strange episodes known to war, a fellow naval type – the first to encounter their bodies – was struck by how Ellingsworth had ‘a proper smile on his face’, as if he had died a happy man, his ‘Duty Nobly Done’

George Cross (C.P.O. Reginald Vincent Ellingworth, P/J26011. 20th December 1940); 1914-15 Star (J. 26011 R. V. Ellingworth, Ord. R.N.); British War and Victory Medals (J. 26011 R. V. Ellingworth, A.B., R.N.); 1939-45 Star; Atlantic Star; War Medal 1939-45; Royal Navy L.S. & G.C., G.V.R., 2nd issue, fixed suspension (J. 260111 R. V. Ellingworth, P.O., H.M.S. Resource) mounted for wear, the Great War awards polished and worn, these nearly very fine, the rest nearly extremely fine (8) £60,000-£80,000

G.C. London Gazette 20 December 1940:
‘For great gallantry and undaunted devotion to duty.’

The original recommendation states: ‘Chief Petty Officer Reginald Vincent Ellingworth worked as an assistant to Lieutenant-Commander R. J. H. Ryan in rendering safe magnetic mines. They worked together on many assignments sharing equally the dangers involved. The principal hazard of these mines was the fact that the clock of the bomb fuse was normally timed to explode the mine about 22 seconds after it had landed. If the fuse failed to explode, the clock could be restarted by the slightest movement, even a footfall. The amount that the clock fuse had already run could never be known, and once it had re-started the time to escape could not be more than a few seconds. At Dagenham, Essex the two officers tackled such a mine hanging by a parachute in a warehouse and were both killed by its explosion. Chief Petty Officer Ellingworth had previously been commended by the Captain of H.M.S. Vernon for his work on mine disposal.’

Reginald Vincent Ellingworth was born in Wolverhampton, Staffordshire on 28 January 1898 and was an apprentice car body-maker at Coventry before joining the Royal Navy as a Boy 2nd Class in July 1913. Having then attended the training ship H.M.S. Impregnable, he joined the battleship H.M.S. Benbow in October 1914, in which he was present at the battle of Jutland and advanced to Able Seaman.
In the following year, Ellingworth transferred to the ‘Silent Service’, in which capacity he served in the submarine L.2 from October 1917 to November 1921, followed by further submarine appointments in the Twenties. Awarded his Long Service and Good Conduct Medal in April 1931 and advanced to Chief Petty Officer in November 1936, he was pensioned ashore in January 1938.

Vernon’s ‘Rendering Mines Safe’ Party
Recalled on the renewal of hostilities, Ellingworth joined the torpedo establishment Vernon, where he volunteered for bomb and mine disposal duties and was drafted to the fledgling ‘Rendering Mines Safe’ Party, a perilous pastime shared with the Admiralty’s Land Incident Section. Enlisted as right hand man to Lieutenant-Commander R. J. H. Ryan, R.N., a noted pioneer in mine disposal, he subsequently shared in many adventures of the hair-raising kind, an early example being the making safe of first magnetic Type ‘C’ mine, which was discovered in the wreckage of downed Heinkel on the sands at Clacton at the end of April 1940. But whilst their gallant work on occasion took them further afield – they dealt with devices in Cardiff, Liverpool and Sheffield – it was to London they were most regularly called, so much so that they took rooms in the Royal Automobile Club in Pall Mall.

Ellingworth’s son Donald, then aged 20 and a Signalman in the Royal Signals, takes up the story:
‘It was unenviable work, fraught with danger, requiring great patience and a steady hand. One wrong move was enough to jolt the clock of the bomb fuse back into action and then there would be no chance of escape.
At the time I was 20 and in the Royal Corps of Signals, so I saw my father only during my infrequent leaves home to Portsmouth. But I distinctly remember our last conversation. It was July 1940 and I had turned up after Dunkirk where, in the chaotic evacuation, I'd been posted “Missing, Believed Lost in Action”. My father must have been relieved to see me because he gave me an enormous hug. I was a little taken back. He was usually a cool, calm, collected man and such outward displays of emotion were virtually unknown. It certainly broke the ice and, for the first time, we spoke man-to-man as we shared a pint and our experiences. I talked of France while he discussed the daily dangers he encountered. “One thing is certain, son,” he warned me. “If anything does go wrong, I won't know anything about it.”
I had never felt closer to my father and when we parted, I left with a heavy heart. With German bombs dropping over England, I realised it was only a matter of time before his selfless courage would cost him his life.’

On the night of 16-17 September 1940, the Luftwaffe dropped 25 parachute mines on London, causing widespread damage. Not a few of them failed to explode and Ryan and Ellingworth dealt with six of these. They were informed that the first mine they worked on had been heard to be ticking but – in a stunning act of gallantry - they made it safe, nonetheless. Another mine had landed in a canal where they worked waist-deep in mud and water, making any escape impossible - the fuse could only be found and removed by groping for it under water.

On the night of 20-21 September 1940, four parachute mines fell on the East End of London, at Dagenham and Hornchurch. Ryan and Ellingworth attended to one of them on Hornchurch aerodrome, where their coolness under pressure left a deep impression of the station C.O., Wing Commander Cecil Bouchier. Meanwhile, Sub. Lieutenant R. V. Moore, R.N.V.R. and C.P.O. George Wheeler worked on another at Dagenham. Moore was in fact in the process of removing the mine’s magnetic trigger when Ryan and Ellingworth arrived on the scene fresh from Hornchurch. Having satisfied himself that the mine which Moore was handling had been made safe, Ryan, with Ellingworth, departed for a third mine which had come down in a building in Oval Road North. According to an eyewitness, it was dangling from the pointed roof, level with the first-floor bedroom and about two feet from the floor. Tragically, however, as they set to work, the fuse sprang into action, the resultant explosion causing instantaneous death and widespread damage.

Sub-Lieutenant Moore rushed to the scene and was the first to see their bodies, and he was struck by how Ellingsworth had ‘a proper smile on his face’, as if he died a happy man. Ryan and Ellingworth were gazetted for posthumous awards of the G.C., with Ellingworth the first naval rating to receive a direct award of the George Cross. Moore would also receive the distinction a month or two later.

Many years later, a gentleman from Dagenham made contact with Ellingworth’s son Donald – as a then child in Dagenham he had stayed behind when the area was cleared and was thus the last man to see Ellingworth and Ryan alive. He described them as both being upright men, striding confidently to defuse the mine which was to kill them.

Aged 42, and described by his widow as ‘the best of dads’, Ellingworth was buried at Milton Cemetery, Portsmouth, where his Commonwealth War Graves Commission headstone bears the following epitaph:
‘In Everlasting Memory of our Beloved, Killed by Enemy Action. Duty Nobly Done.’

Sold with the recipient’s Memorial Scroll, named to ‘C.P.O. R. V. Ellingworth, G.C., Royal Navy’, with Buckingham Palace enclosure named to ‘Mrs. Jessica Ellingworth’; and a portrait photographic image of the recipient.