Orders, Decorations, Medals and Militaria

The excessively rare Second World War ‘Passage to Tobruk’ D.S.C. and ‘Norway’ D.S.M. group of six awarded to Temporary Sub-Lieutenant E. L. ‘Nobby’ Clark, R.N.V.R., who was killed in an epic battle with a German U-boat in October 1941

Distinguished Service Cross, G.VI.R., the reverse officially dated ‘1942’ and with London hallmarks for 1942, in its Garrard & Co. Ltd. case of issue; Distinguished Service Medal, G.VI.R. (LD/X.4575 E. L. Clark, O.Sig. R.N.V.R.) impressed naming; 1939-45 Star; Atlantic Star; Africa Star; War Medal, with M.I.D. oak leaf, these last four unnamed as issued, extremely fine (6) £5000-6000

D.S.M. London Gazette 11 October 1940: ‘For continued gallantry and devotion to duty when serving in H.M. Ships off the coast of Norway:- Ordinary Signalman Edmund Leonard Clark, R.N.V.R., H.M.T. Jardine.’

H.M.T. Jardine was bombed by German aircraft off the west coast of Norwayon 30 April 1940 and finally sunk by H.M.T. Northern Pride with four shots from her 4-inch gun. This ship later took part of Jardine’s crew aboard.

D.S.C. London Gazette 17 March 1942: ‘For courage, leadership and resolution in action against the enemy in the Mediterranean:- Temporary Sub-Lieutenant Edmund Leonard Clark, D.S.M., R.N.V.R.’

M.I.D. London Gazette 6 January 1942: ‘For good services at Tobruk.’

In the autumn of 1941 ‘Nobby’ Clark was in command of ‘A’ lighter A2. From their base at Mersa Matruh the ‘A’ lighters were kept busy that autumn, and since the safe arrival of their cargoes was vital to the new offensive, they were given fighter cover during daylight on the westward run. It was the doubtful honour of the ‘A’ lighters to be the first to encounter a German submarine in the early hours of the morning of October 10th. Three of the craft, loaded with tanks and their crews, had sailed at dusk from Mersa Matruh. They were unescorted, since they were not due to meet up with their Anti-Submarine trawler until about noon.

At four in the morning they were steaming west in what their commanding officers called ‘bastard quarterline’. A18 was leading with A2 astern and slightly to starboard, followed by A7 a little to port. When they were in the vicinity of Ashaila Rocks, off Sidi Barrani, the navigator of A18 sighted a submarine ahead and to starboard. He, Sinclair, could see her clearly in the moonlight, but even as he was still trying to identify her, she opened fire. The first shell from the U-boat’s for’ard gun struck the funnel aft of the bridge and carried away the little mast and the wireless aerial, its shrapnel severely wounding Sinclair. Sub-Lieutenant Dennis Peters, D.S.C., R.N.V.R., commanding A18, turned back for Mersa Matruh, expecting the others to follow him. But in the darkness the three craft lost touch, and A2 (Sub-Lieutenant E. L. Clark, D.S.M.) and A7 (Sub-Lieutenant A. C. Bromley) continued on their way to Tobruk. The pair of them failed to rendezvous with the Hurricanes, and were heavily attacked by Stukas before they arrived.

Having unloaded the tanks and their crews, the two landing craft sailed again for Mersa Matruh soon after sunset on October 11th. Darkness enveloped them as they passed through the boom at the harbour entrance. Neither of them was ever seen again. During that night a faint wireless signal from ‘Nobby’ Clark was picked up. It said, ‘Am being attacked by U-boat...’ and ended abruptly.

‘In May,’ writes Lieut. A. B. Heckstall-Smith, D.S.C., R.N.V.R., in his book Tobruk - the story of a Siege, ‘I had sailed with ‘Nobby’ Clark in A2 to Crete to land the only tanks ever to reach the island. Since then I had nade many trips with him to Tobruk [on the ‘Spud Run’]. He was , without exception, the finest type of R.N.V.R. officer. As a signal rating early in the war in an A/S trawler he had won the D.S.M., and for his work in Crete and on the ‘Spud Run’ he was awarded the Distinguished Service Cross. At the time when he disappeared there were friends who tried to console me that Clark had been taken prisoner. But although I prayed this might be so, I knew in my heart he had died fighting. His landing craft bristled with weapons, and he had instilled into his crew a great deal of his own high courage. Indeed, but a few weeks before his last voyage I had tentatively proposed that he and they were relieved. “We want to see Tobruk relieved first,” he answered for all of them.’

In all, thirty-seven men, including an officer in the Royal Engineers, four Australian soldiers, and two Italian prisoners-of-war, sailed from Tobruk in A2 and A7. Thirty-six lost their lives. By a miracle, one man survived - Petty Officer William Alfred Henley, D.S.M. and Bar, R.N., Coxswain of A7 - and through him Lieut. Heckstall-Smith is able to tell the story of the last hours of the two ‘A’ lighters.

‘The first shells from UB75 appeared to crash into A2 from nowhere. And as Clark’s pom-poms opened up, the submarine switched her fire to A7. A2, although she had suffered several direct hits and some of her crew had been wounded, was still not seriously damaged. A7, on the other hand, now lay stopped with her engine-room and mess-deck right aft both on fire. Henley and one of the crew, Ordinary Seaman Chaplain, struggled through the smoke and fumes with gas-masks, and found that all the electric leads had burned out and it was impossible to restart the motors. This they reported to Sub-Lieutenant Bromley on the bridge, who passed the information to Clark by dimmed Aldis lamp.

A2 then came alongside, and after the wounded had been transferred, Clark asked Bromley if he could either blow up or scuttle his ship. The answer was no. So it was decided that A7 should be taken in tow.

‘I got all hands on the wires and prerpared to be taken in tow,’ Henley wrote. ‘A2 asks for rum and I pass a new jar to her and go forward. A terrific explosion shakes us. I see A2 drifting away helpless. Was it a torpedo? Several of the crew are in the water. Where is the Captain and the Skipper? I take charge, fearing the magazine will blow, I give orders to throw all the ammunition overboard. The fire has started again in the mess-deck. Some of the lads try to put it out with buckets.

‘I call to A2, but there is no reply. Only men in the water. We throw life belts to them. I hear the Captain and Skipper Peel. I pass a ladder over the side and throw a line to them and haul them aboard. Both are OK. I hear someone else shout that they have not got a belt. Clapham helps me over the side with an extra belt and with a line tied round me to haul me back. I swim to a shipmate about twenty yards away.

‘While I am swimming, there is another terrific explosion. This time it is A7... I was sucked under. It was hell. But having two lifebelts helped me to the surface. It was these that saved me from drowning and being hit by flying debris... I swam around for a while and then I saw the submarine. She was passing near A2. Then she opened fire at the landing craft and the men in the water. I was very terrified. I tried to swim away from her line of fire, and as I did so, A2 burst into flames. I swam as hard as I could.’

A2 burnt for about half an hour before she sank. Henley and Newton, half clinging, half lying on their balk of timber, watched the long, black shape of the U-boat steam slowly past them to pour high-explosive and incendiary shells into the listing hull of A7, and then disappear into the night. Sadly, Newton later succumber to the water. Henley, the sole survivor from these two lighters, after 24 hours in the water, was picked up by UB75 and remained a prisoner for the rest of the war. He subsequently received a Bar to the D.S.M. he had won in Crete. It is clear from the full text of his narrative that many of those men of the two ‘A’ lighters who were not killed in the initial attack were machine-gunned by the submarine as they swam helplessly in the water.

Only ten recipients of the D.S.M. in the Second World War went on to win the D.S.C., including the unique group to Sub-Lieutenant L. A. Larsen, D.S.O., D.S.C., C.G.M., D.S.M. and Bar, Royal Norwegian Navy.