A Great War M.C. group of seven to Captain T. A. Kelly, Royal Fusiliers, late Lincolnshire Regiment

Military Cross, G.V.R., reverse inscribed, ‘Capt. T. A. Kelly, 13th R.F., Pozieres July 1916’; Queen’s Sudan 1896-98 (1548 Sgt., 1/Lin. R.); Queen’s South Africa 1899-1902, 3 clasps, Cape Colony, Paardeberg, Johannesburg (1548 Serjt., 2/Linc. Regt.); King’s South Africa 1901-02, 2 clasps (1548 Clr. Serjt., Lincoln Regt.); British War and Victory Medals (Capt.); Khedive’s Sudan 1896-1908, 2 clasps, The Atbara, Khartoum (Sergt., 1 Linc. Regt.) good very fine and better (7) £800-900

This lot was sold as part of a special collection, The Collection of Medals Formed by The Late A. A. Mount.

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M.C. London Gazette 22 September 1916: ‘For conspicuous gallantry in leading his men through a very heavy barrage in the attempt to support an attack. He displayed great coolness under fire and inspired confidence in all ranks with him.’

M.I.D. London Gazette 10 September 1901 and 22 September 1916.

Thomas Kelly was born in Glasgow and attested for the Lincolnshire Regiment in 1886, aged 15 years, 4 months. As a N.C.O. he served with his regiment in the Sudan expedition and in the Boer War and in the latter he was mentioned in despatches. He was discharged at his own request in 1905 after a misdemeanour which saw him reduced to the rank of Corporal. In the Great War he received a commission in the 13th Battalion Royal Fusiliers in 1916. Awarded the Militaty Cross for gallantry at Pozieres, he was promoted Captain and commanded a company in France until July 1917 when invalided home with sciatica. Kelly was on the training establishment until the Armistice and was discharged in April 1919. Sold with 32 sheets of copied service papers and a letter from an old comrade of Kelly recalling the events at Pozieres. In the same vein, an official account states: ‘In the meantime the battalion near Contalmaison Wood was enduring pertinacious shelling and constant casualties. Each morning a list came down with a fervent appeal from Cuth to send up every man who returned from leave or a course. The big guard of half a company under Amberton had already come back. So, too, had ‘Ned’ Kelly, a Punch-faced elderly subaltern with a row of ribbons from previous wars. His words were a sharp chirrup, precise as a thrush’s. Borrowing a steel hat and a gas-mask he went up the line with a mackintosh over his arm and a little swagger cane, as cheerful as if he were going to a city dinner. He reached the battalion in time to join in one of the ghastly mistakes which break soldiers’ hearts. A big attack on Pozieres had been ordered. ... Today the Rifle Brigade were to take part in a big encircling assault at 11 a.m. and the 13th were to support them. At the last moment the plan was cancelled; but the message reached neither battalion. So at zero they started with their flanks in the air and no protecting artillery....’