Orders, Decorations, Medals and Militaria

The unique Spanish Civil War Albert Medal and Second World War D.S.O., O.B.E., and Polish Cross Of Valour group of nine awarded to Commander B. G. Scurfield, Royal Navy, who won the Albert Medal when H.M.S. Hardy was blown almost in two by a fascist naval mine in 1937, and the D.S.O. during the Battle of Pantelleria, June 1942, when, as Captain of H.M.S. Bedouin during operation ‘Harpoon’, he led a charge by destroyers escorting a Malta convoy directly towards the 7th Cruiser Division of the Italian Fleet, causing it to withdraw and thus saving from annihilation the merchantmen carrying essential supplies to Malta; Bedouin having been sunk in the action by an aircraft torpedo, Scurfield was taken prisoner and was killed by friendly fire in April 1945 when his P.O.W. column was strafed by Allied fighters in Germany

Distinguished Service Order, G.VI.R., silver-gilt and enamel, reverse officially dated ‘1942’, with integral top riband bar; The Most Excellent Order of the British Empire, O.B.E. (Military) Officer’s 2nd type breast badge, silver-gilt; Albert Medal, 2nd Class, for Gallantry in Saving Life at Sea, bronze and enamel (Awarded by His Majesty to Lieut-Commander Bryan Gouthwaite Scurfield R.N. for gallantry in H.M.S. Hunter after an explosion on 13th May, 1937.); 1939-45 Star; Atlantic Star; Africa Star; War Medal 1939-45; Jubilee 1935; Poland, Cross of Valour, 1920 type, extremely fine (9) £12,000-£15,000

D.S.O. London Gazette 1 September 1942:
‘For bravery and resolution in H.M. Ships Antelope, Badsworth, Bedouin, Blankney, Cairo, Eagle, Hebe, Ithuriel, Liverpool, Marne, Matchless, Middleton, Partridge and Westcott, while escorting an important Convoy to Malta.

The recommendation for the award of an Immediate D.S.O. states: ‘Commander Scurfield was in command of H.M.S. Bedouin in Force “X” in operation Harpoon. From the report in Vice Admiral, Malta’s 0244/18 June, 1942, and from the information I have been able to obtain subsequently, it appears that he led the 11th Destroyer Division in a most gallant manner. His ship was disabled in this attack, and was about to get steam on main engines again while in tow of H.M.S. Partridge when the former was sunk by an aircraft torpedo. Commander Scurfield’s fate is not known, but he was alive after ship had been torpedoed and I hope may have been picked up by Italian destroyers.’

O.B.E. London Gazette 8 July 1941: Commander Bryan Gouthwaite Scurfield, A.M., Royal Navy, H.M.S. Broke.
‘For courage and good seamanship in rescuing survivors from a burning vessel.’

A.M. London Gazette 2 July 1937:
‘On 13th May, 1937, H.M.S. Hunter sustained serious damage in an explosion off Almeria, Spain. Immediately the ship took on a heavy list, all lights were extinguished and there was no steam. Apparently she was about to sink. Lieutenant-Commander Scurfield, who was aft, rushed forward. Passing the galley, he heard cries from the Petty Officer Cook, who had fallen into the boiler room. He jumped down through the smoke, oil fuel, steam and debris, and by extraordinary feats of strength removed the wreckage pinning the man down. The rating was passed up on deck, but did not long survive.
Lieutenant-Commander Scurfield then proceeded to the Torpedomen's mess deck. This was flooded to a depth of two and a half feet in oil fuel; also battery gas had escaped from the switchboard room. The ladder having been blown away, he jumped down into the mess deck, not knowing whether it was intact, and passed up two men. Calling for assistance, he was joined by Lieutenant Humphreys and Able Seamen Collins, Thomas and Abrahams. After the mess deck had been cleared, he led the party into the stoker petty officers' mess. The bulkhead had been shattered, and bedding and curtains were smouldering on top of the oil fuel. Bodies were pulled out from under the wreckage, and passed up on deck.
During the whole of this time, he might in the darkness have fallen into the oil fuel tanks below or into the sea. By his gallant behaviour he saved the lives of Stoker Petty Officers Lott, May, and Fenley; Stoker Neil; and Able Seaman Oliffe.’

Polish Cross of Valour: London Gazette 21 October 1941: ‘In recognition of your gallant and brave conduct during the evacuation of Polish Forces from France.’

Bryan Gouthwhaite Scurfield was born on 8 August 1902, the eldest of eight children. His unusual middle name was his paternal grandmother’s maiden name. Educated at Charterhouse, in September 1920 he became a ‘Special Entry’ Cadet in the Royal Navy. He served as a Midshipman in the flagships of the Atlantic and then the Mediterranean Fleet (respectively the super-dreadnought H.M.S. Queen Elizabeth and the dreadnought H.M.S. Iron Duke) and in September 1924 commanded a platoon of the Naval Landing Force protecting the evacuation of British, Greek and Christian refugees from Smyrna, Turkey. After attending the Navy College in 1924 (including the crucial Navigation School) Scurfield was promoted to Sub-Lieutenant and began his service in destroyers. In September 1926 he was assigned to H.M.S. Hawkins, the Shanghai-based Flagship of the China Station. He spent some months in the destroyer H.M.S. Wolverine, which protected British Concessions and merchant ships on the Yangtze River from warlords and pirates. After a period as Lieutenant and then Lieutenant-Commander in the brand-new battleship H.M.S. Nelson, Scurfield commanded the destroyer H.M.S. Skate during the 1935 Jubilee Naval review at Spithead, for which he received the Jubilee Medal.

‘Our Albert’: “Excuse me, Sir. Thank you for getting my chum out.”
His next appointment was to the command of the newly-built destroyer H.M.S. Hunter, which sailed to join the Mediterranean Fleet in October 1936. In May 1937, Hunter was designated as part of Britain’s contribution to the League of Nations Arms Blockade and Non-Intervention Patrols, intended to help end the Spanish Civil War between the left-wing Republican government and General Franco’s fascist Nationalists, who were supplied by Germany and Italy. Scurfield had no illusions about the value of his task and the risks of being inside an active war zone: “Everyone knows that the present non-intervention scheme is an absolute farce’’. His ship was stationed off the Republican-held port of Almeria in Southern Spain: “There are alleged to be mines in the shallower water near the shore, so our orders are to remain outside the 100 fathoms line. And so, we just lie stopped in the middle of the bay about five miles from the shore… Whenever we see an aeroplane we close up at anti-aircraft stations.”

On Thursday 13 May 1937, Hunter lay stationary at her normal location; there was a breeze and a slight swell. At about 2.15 pm there was a terrific blast as a Nationalist naval mine detonated against her hull. Water mixed with fuel oil, flames and steam shot into the air on the port side between the bridge and the foremost funnel. All the lights went out and everything was drenched with oil. Scurfield was on the spot in “about 10 seconds.”

The forward boiler-room, which had been steaming to provide electricity and to enable the ship to get underway quickly if required, was a mass of twisted steel and the floor of the galley above it had disappeared, with the cook falling into the wreckage below. Scurfield jumped into the smoke, oil and fumes, reached the stricken man, who had lost a foot and was trapped by debris. As described by eye-witnesses, “he worked like a madman, pulled the obstructions away and hauled the cook out by sheer strength and clambered up with him.” Moving forwards along the ship, which was listing to starboard and sinking by the bows, he heard cries from a hatch leading to the mess deck below. The ladder had vanished, so “With no knowledge of the damage that had been done to the deck and with complete disregard of his own safety, he jumped down below.” After pulling men out of the darkness of the Torpedomen’s messdeck, flooded with several feet of fuel oil and with naked flames in close proximity, he “entered the Stoker Petty Officers’ mess, the floor of which was, as I saw afterwards, more than half blown away. Had he trodden on any of the missing part he would have undoubtedly have joined the other victims. He rescued altogether from these two messdecks about ten or twelve men who, had it not been for his prompt action, would undoubtedly have died.” Scurfield wrote that an Able Seaman had unexpectedly accosted him: “Excuse me, Sir. Thank you for getting my chum out.” He commented that “It took me completely by surprise and I almost cried.”

After three-quarters of an hour, Hunter appeared to be on the point of sinking, so Scurfield gave the order to abandon ship. In fact, damage control measures had stabilised her and enabled her to be towed into Almeria. Eight men had died and fourteen were hospitalised. Repairs would take so long that the Admiralty appointed Scurfield to command the destroyer Active. He was widely seen as a hero, and when Active crossed the equator on 10 October 1937, as part of the festivities the crew presented him with a large medal inscribed ‘Our Albert’. His Confidential Report read “To my entire satisfaction. He is a splendid leader of men and an officer whose fine character and keen intelligence fit him for the higher ranks of the service.” He was promoted to Commander on 30 June 1938.

War, and more remarkable rescues
Scurfield was appointed Captain of the elderly destroyer H.M.S. Broke on 27 September 1939. Initially Broke was mostly employed on convoy escort and anti-submarine work, but after Dunkirk she was sent on several independent cross-Channel sorties to north-west France, without any senior officers hovering nearby to impart their ‘wisdom’. She was attacked by aircraft off Le Havre, but went on to demolish port installations there before embarking 200 Polish troops and assorted refugees at Brest. Scurfield was exhausted from lack of sleep, but his wife commented: “think he enjoyed it as he’d been mostly on his own. Dive bombers just missed them.” The Polish government awarded him the Cross of Valour for his “gallant and brave conduct”.

Broke’s First Lieutenant from August 1940 was Lieutenant Peter Scott R.N.V.R., the famous artist, yachtsman and naturalist, son of Captain Scott of the Antarctic, who recorded his intense admiration of Scurfield in his autobiography The Eye of the Wind. On 6 April 1941 Broke was on convoy duty in the North Atlantic when she was alerted to a serious fire which had erupted in the engine-room of H.M.S. Comorin, a P & O liner built in 1925 which had been taken over by the Admiralty and equipped as an Armed Merchant Cruiser. Comorin was plunging up and down wildly in a heavy head sea with a gale blowing. There was no hope of controlling the fire and the appalling, monstrous sea conditions meant that attempts by other ships to rescue those on board were proceeding at a snail’s-pace. Scurfield wrote that “At times from the bridge I was level with the ship’s top deck and at others I could see her rudder and propellers out of the water… I was forced to the conclusion that the only way was to nose my forecastle alongside the quarter of the burning ship and for the men to jump. The first ten jumped on board at 9.15 pm… I don’t know how many times I went alongside – perhaps 25 – but the engineers received 685 orders for the engines during those three hours!”

With each ship-to-ship contact, Broke suffered collision damage and had to draw away, until Peter Scott could verify that she was still seaworthy enough to attempt another rescue. Each time he reported, his skipper “was calmer & more confident.” “Alright,” he said, “let’s go in & get some more”. I have the most vivid mental picture of him lit by the glare of the flames with his very infectious boyish grin. And of course he kept on going in “to get some more” until he had rescued them all! Scurfield saved 180 survivors, but was worried that he would be officially reprimanded for the damage done to the upper works of his ship.
The Captain of one of the other warships at the scene reported to the Admiralty “I do not ever again expect to see a ship handled so magnificently”. Soon Scurfield was able to write: “I had another signal yesterday from “The Admiralty & First Sea Lord personally” of congratulations – very nice as a change from the usual “raspberries”. This one read “Congratulations on the fine seamanship you displayed in going repeatedly alongside Cormorin in heavy weather”.

Having decided not to reprimand him, the Admiralty bureaucracy began to debate the difficult question of which award to bestow on Scurfield. Enemy action was not involved, which ruled out the ‘on active service in the presence of the enemy’ awards. The Albert Medal for Gallantry at Sea would have been perfectly appropriate, except that Scurfield already had one and the statutes of the Albert Medal did not authorise bars. Ever since Wellington had severely criticised the issue of multiple awards of the same medal, it was established official policy never to do this again. The optimal choice would have been the newly created George Cross or George Medal, the statutes for which had been published and first awards gazetted. However, one of Scurfield’s officers on Hunter had been awarded the Empire Gallantry Medal for assisting him during the aftermath of the explosion. In 1937 the E.G.M. was a lesser honour than the Albert Medal, but by 1941, as a result of the decision to convert every E.G.M. into a George Cross, his G.C. now outranked Scurfield’s A.M. An award of either the George Cross or the George Medal to Scurfield A.M. would have emboldened those officials who highlighted the anomalous position of the A.M. after the mandatory conversion of the E.G.M. The final, conservative, decision was to award Scurfield a Military O.B.E. (which at the time also outranked the Albert Medal but not to the extent that the George Cross did).

“Enemy in Sight!”
In July 1941 Scurfield took command of the splendid Tribal-class Fleet Destroyer H.M.S. Bedouin. He spent a long, cold winter escorting Arctic convoys to Murmansk in Russia and participating in the Boxing Day 1941 Commando attack on the Lofoten Islands. Meanwhile, in the Mediterranean, Rommel had begun another offensive in Cyrenaica and the blockade and Siege of Malta was approaching a climax. The Admiralty decided to send two strongly escorted relief convoys to Malta simultaneously from opposite directions, one east to west from Alexandria and the other west to east from Gibraltar, in the hope that at least a few ships carrying much-needed supplies of ammunition, fuel and food would be able successfully to run the gauntlet of German and Italian forces. Scurfield was the Senior Officer of the destroyers safeguarding the east-bound convoy, known as the ‘Harpoon Convoy’.

On 15 June 1942, after four days of mounting air and submarine attacks, the convoy was south of Sardinia, entering waters considered too risky for capital ships, so the most powerful escort vessels turned back to Gibraltar at dusk. Towards midnight, Scurfield was informed that the 7th Cruiser Division of the Italian surface fleet had sailed from Sicily. At daybreak, two powerful modern cruisers and their destroyer escorts appeared, dead ahead of Bedouin. Scurfield wrote: “This is what I had been training for for twenty-two years… It was a great moment… Up went the signals “Enemy in Sight”, “Steam for Full Speed’, “25 Knots” and “Form Single Line Ahead” and I led my five ‘Fleets’ up towards the enemy. It was a situation very much as we had envisaged and everyone knew what to do… the cost was not to be counted – the Italians must be driven off… Otherwise it was within their power to destroy us and then the convoy at their pleasure.

“The cruisers opened fire almost at once and the first salvos fell astern of the Bedouin… the shooting seemed to be unpleasantly accurate... we shifted our fire to the leading cruiser at 12,400 yards. By this time we were starting to get hit… we appeared to be straddling the enemy and must have been hitting… The ship had received more punishment than I knew, and I felt in my bones that she would not be able to go much further”. Scurfield fired all his torpedoes at a range of 5,000 yards. Then Bedouin was hit in her gearing room by a shell from the main armament of one of the cruisers, which put both of her engines out of action. “We scored no hits, I fear, nor did any of the others who fired torpedoes, but the enemy made a large alteration of course away from us and broke off the action… We were at least left masters of the battlefield and the convoy had got a good start”.

Bedouin had been hit at least twelve times, eleven men had been killed and six more mortally wounded. Of the other British destroyers, only one, H.M.S. Partridge, had significant damage. Partridge took Bedouin in tow while Scurfield sent the other, undamaged destroyers back to protect the convoy. In the end, two out of the initial six merchant ships arrived at Malta, delivering enough supplies for the island to hold out until September. None of the ships in the convoy from Alexandria reached Malta.

Early in the afternoon Scurfield ordered his tow to be slipped, due to enemy air activity, and sent Partridge away, so it would present less of a target. Thanks to the efforts of his engineers, Bedouin was just getting underway again when suddenly an Italian SM 79 bomber appeared through the smoke. It was engaged by every gun, but managed to drop its torpedo before coming down in the sea. Bedouin was hit in her engine room and sank within five minutes. After spending several hours in the water, the 213 survivors were spotted by a German aircraft and rescued by an Italian Red Cross ship.

His well-deserved D.S.O. was gazetted in September 1942 and sent to his next of kin, his wife, Mary Katherine (née Lee), known to all as ‘Dena’.

‘He Who Enters These Portals Renounces The World’
In July 1942 Scurfield arrived at his first Prisoner of War camp, a former monastery south of Naples. The sombre statement quoted above had been inscribed above its main entrance centuries earlier, but it aptly described Scurfield’s situation during his long captivity. Several moves between camps, geography and the unpredictability of the Italian guards precluded any escape attempts. When the Italians surrendered in September 1943, those responsible for guarding Scurfield’s camp kept its security arrangements in place until German troops arrived. He was subsequently sent to Germany, finally ending up in Marlag ‘O’, a camp near Bremen.

On 9 April 1945, British forces reached Bremen. The Germans decided to evacuate the camp and march their prisoners to Lubeck, 80 miles away. As Senior British Officer, Scurfield issued instructions to the prisoners to take over the initiative from the demoralised German guards and to slow progress as much as possible, in the hope that the victorious Allies would overtake them as the war in Europe drew towards its end: “March discipline to be preserved. Important to show the Germans we can run the show. In case of a strafing attack split 2 ranks, 1 to right, 1 to left.”

In the mid-afternoon of the second day’s march, 11th April, six Allied fighters made a low-level strafing run on the column of prisoners, believing them to be German soldiers. An eye-witness reported that: “Commandeer Scurfield, without any thought for his own safety and after assessing the situation, strode up and down the road ordering everyone to disperse.” He was hit by friendly forces’ cannon fire in his back and both legs, and died a few hours later. He is commemorated by name in Becklingen War Cemetery, Niedersachsen, Germany.

The group is sold with original Warrants of Appointment for the D.S.O. and O.B.E., together with forwarding letter for the latter; named condolence slip and card box of issue for Second World War medals addressed to his widow at Lake House, Petersfield, Hants; ribbon bar for Jubilee medal, miniature ribbon bar for the Albert Medal and Jubilee medal, and an additional piece of Albert Medal ribbon; and a copy of David Scurfield’s extensive illustrated biography of his father, entitled Bryan Scurfield: A Portrait of a Destroyer Captain in the Royal Navy; with vignettes of a family at war 1902-1945.