Orders, Decorations, Medals and Militaria

A rare and extremely poignant Great War ace’s archive appertaining to Captain S. P. Smith, Royal Flying Corps, von Richthofen’s 76th victim, comprising Pilot’s Flying Log Book (white cover type), with title inscription, ‘S. Philip Smith, Lieut., A.S.C. and R.F.C.’, with entries covering the period May to September 1916, and an Army Book 136 with ink inscription ‘Pilot’s Flying Log Book’ and Smith’s signature, this covering the period October 1916 to May 1917; official Memorial Scroll in the name of ‘Capt. Sydney Philip Smith, Royal Army Service Corps (T.F.) & 46th Sqdn. Royal Air Force’, with related forwarding letter, dated 6 December 1920; Buckingham Palace letter of condolence, dated 25 January 1921; War Office forwarding letter for his 1914-15 Star, dated 12 May 1921; commission warrant for the rank of Temporary 2nd Lieutenant, A.S.C., dated 7 December 1914; a fine series of wartime letters, many handwritten but some being old typescript copies, including at least three in the recipient’s own hand to his parents, and others of an equally poignant nature, being letters of condolence from fellow squadron personnel, some trying to assist in the search for Smith’s remains; old typescript copies (2) of Smith’s record of services, as presumably assembled by his next of kin from squadron records, with details of missions flown from March 1918 until his death, and similar copies of 12 combat reports; three wartime maps, two of them with annotated trench systems and assorted wartime photographs (lot) £1200-1500

Sydney Philip Smith, who was born at Aldershot in May 1895, served in the Wessex Division (Training), A.S.C. (T.F.) until joining the Royal Flying Corps. Qualifying as a pilot in June 1916, he was posted to No. 6 Squadron in France, towards the end of the year, his introduction to the operational scene proving suitably hair-raising, or certainly according to a letter he wrote home to his father on 19 October 1916 (original included in archive):

‘A letter by way of a change this time. Things have been happening with a vengeance since I returned. I daresay you heard from the aunts about some of ‘em: my observer getting a “Blighty” in the leg; fellows being blown to pieces by bombs, etc., etc. Well the day after I brought down Captain Duff wounded, I went up in the same machine on a “Shoot” with another observer, and got it in the neck properly from “Archie”: my propeller was smashed, petrol tank punctured [emptied itself all over my observer’s feet in about 2 seconds!], both main spars of the two top planes split right through, engine cowl pierced and about 27 holes in other parts of the machine. This was all from 2 practically simultaneous bursts dead over the machine, and they sounded like the crack of doom! However, we managed to struggle painfully back to the aerodrome, feeling jolly lucky that there was enough propeller left to drag us back and also that the spare petrol tank was intact [machine is still in the process of rebuilding!!] ...’

Smith claimed his first victory, an Albatross DII, over Becelaere, on 17 March 1917, but two months later he was wounded in an engagement with five enemy aircraft, an incident referred to in a letter sent to his father from 2nd Lieutenant Waight, R.F.C., dated 6 May 1917 (original included in archive):

‘He was attacked by five hostile machines, all firing as hard as they could go. Unfortunately, Phillip could not reply as both his and the Observer’s gun jammed, and were therefore helpless. Phillip did the only thing possible under the circumstances and endeavoured to out manoeuvre his opponents, which he did with wonderful skill. An unlucky shot hit Phillip in the right heel, which must have been very painful when he used the rudder controls. However he kept going until his engine was hit in the carburettor and engine bearers, which, of course, forced him to land. In spite of his wound he made a perfect landing. He was taken to the dressing station ... He is known by many officers outside the Flying Corps for the many brave deeds he has performed at various times, which he considers very ordinary things. He was, without a doubt, a very brave man, and that means a very great deal in the Flying Corps ... He has been recommended four times for a decoration and all in this Squadron are intensely annoyed as he has not got it up to the present ...’

Interestingly, another original letter in the archive, which appears to be from Smith’s old Flight Commander (or C.O.), dated 17 July [1917] also refers to the question of a decoration: ‘I shoved your name in several times but regret that up to date nothing turned up, however I hope something may yet in the next half-yearly show ...’

Smith returned to the operational scene in March 1918, when he joined No. 46 Squadron as a Flight Commander, and quickly established a solid reputation with his C.O. The following extract has been taken from a letter written to Smith’s parents after his death in action, the author being an old No. 6 Squadron pilot, C. W. Scoles (original included in archive):

‘ ...Curiously enough I am under his old Squadron Commander, Major Mealing, and we were talking about him [Smith] only last night and he was telling me how he sent him up to do two landings almost the first day he got out and how he shot down 2 Huns instead, when he was forbidden to go over the lines ...’

In fact, before the end of his first month with the Squadron, Smith had shared in the destruction of at least two enemy aircraft and accounted for another, a 2-seater Albatross, himself:

‘Whilst on a low bombing reconnaissance at 4.40 p.m. I saw E.A. 2-seater flying over the lines at 1500 feet doing contact patrol. I attacked him from the sun and fired 50 rounds at 100 yards range. E.A. did a stalling turn and dived. I then got on his tail firing another 50 rounds at 50 yards range. E.A. went down vertically and I saw him crash hopelessly. No. 70 Squadron were there at the time and should be able to confirm this’ (old typescript combat report, dated 24 March 1918, included in archive, refers).

Two days after this engagement, Smith wrote home to his parents (original letter included in archive):

‘I really have got an excuse for not having written before as there’s quite a war on a present; and the weather being so extraordinarily fine has meant us being up in the air all day long. I’ve more or less settled down as 46 (not H6!) is a crack squadron with a priceless lot of fellows. I’ve had more thrills in the last week than I ever had in the whole 10 months with 6, as this is a most extraordinary battle ... the number of Huns one sees massed behind their lines is really amazing - just like a swarm of flies crawling along the ground as far as you can see. Thats the impression you get from the air and its absolute sheer weight of numbers that has made us withdraw. But their casualties from our bombs and machine gun fire from the air above must be enormous, as they’re so thick you can’t help hitting ‘em (I hope the censor wont object to all this information!). I received boots and breeches but am badly in need of that leather coat ...’

A few days later, on 2 April, as his operational sorties climbed over the 20 mark, Smith again shared in the destruction of enemy aircraft, this time over Courcelles:

‘Whilst on C.O.P. at 5000 feet over Courcelles, Captain Smith fired 50 rounds at 200 yards range at E.A. who was flying West at 1000 feet above him. E.A. turned East and dived. Captain Smith and the other pilots got on his tail and dived down on him firing about 750 rounds at a range varying from 50 to 100 yards. E.A. then dived vertically as if hit and Captain Smith overshot him, the other pilots, with the exception of Lieutenant McCalren pulled out. He fired another 100 rounds at 50 yards range and the E.A. went down out of control and crashed S. of Courcelles’ (old typescript combat report included in archive refers).

Tragically, on the 6 April, Smith met his demise at the hands of none other than Baron Manfred von Richthofen, an incident best summarised by H. J. Nowarra and K. S. Brown in their Von Richthofen and the Flying Circus:

‘Of the Camels that had been shot down on the 6th [April 1918], one fell to Richthofen, making his seventy-sixth victory. Once again flying Dr. 127/17 and leading several Jasta 11 members, he had attacked a flight of low-flying Camels. After only a few shots, his victim, Captain Sidney Philip Smith, in Camel D6491 (110 h.p. Le Rhone No. 54644/W.D. 48144) was shot down in flames, his body and his aircraft losing their identity in the carnage of the battle below, near Villers-Bretonneux. Possibly Captain Smith, who came from 46 Squadron, had joined, or was flying near, a flight of Camels from another squadron, for he had become parted from his own patrol, and was last seen by Lieutenant McConnell of his unit, some forty-five minutes before the time Richthofen gave for his claim.’

Some more contemporary sources suggest that the difference in the estimated time of Smith’s final combat might imply that he fell victim to another Jasta but as will be seen from the following letter, von Richthofen’s claim appears to be beyond dispute. Indeed this same letter represents the most accurate account of Smith’s fate and was sent to his parents in April 1919, after they had advertised for witnesses or information in The Times (original letter included in archive). The author, writing from Exeter College, Oxford, was Donald G. Gold, himself an R.F.C. pilot who had been brought down on 6 April 1918, and who was held by the Germans in their forward trenches for several hours before being evacuated. During that period he states:

‘ ... I saw three British machines shot down. One was a Bristol fighter, both the others were Camels. I was too far away to identify any numbers and unfortunately cannot remember the squadron markings. One of the Camels fell some way away, probably the other side of the river as far as I could see. However, I know of a prisoner taken there that afternoon. The other Camel pilot fell quite close to where I was. It was unfortunately shot down in flames in the following way. There were 5 Fokker triplanes headed by von Richthofen patrolling just above the clouds which were about 1500-2000 feet up. When a British machine came over singly they were warned by “Archie” fire that the machine was directly below them and they accordingly pounced. Owing to the weather condition the formations of Camels were breaking up and they were dropping bombs on anything they saw. This frequently meant one got rather separated from other machines. The Fokkers were doing long range shooting which was extraordinarily accurate. They got the Camel almost at the first burst and I saw flames plainly; however, I rather imagine it was the smaller petrol tank for the machine still flew perfectly and I thought the pilot put out the flames for the machine climbed quickly into the clouds. The Germans however were still firing as the machine lept in and out of the cloud, when I saw it suddenly burst into flames again and fall. The machine floated down quite out of control, the pilot falling from it and being killed instantaneously. From the way in which the machine came down when in flames the second time I feel certain that the pilot was killed by a shot and not from the fall. I was not allowed to go anywhere near ...’

Writing to Smith’s parents from France on 7 April, Major Mealing of No. 46 Squadron stated (old carbon copy included in archive):

‘I am sorry to have to inform you that your son Captain S. Smith has been missing since yesterday afternoon. I sincerely hope he is alright for I have never come across an officer who more quickly endeared himself to us all than he did. He was wonderfully brave, perhaps too brave. I had more than once to restrain him from taking unnecessary risks. His work in the last battle was simply magnificent ... It may please you to know that for his work in the battle he had been recommended for some decoration but this was unfortunately held up ...’

The final correspondence in the archive traces Smith’s father’s desperate endeavours to recover his son’s remains, latterly with the assistance of Donald Gold, both of whom returned to the scene his son’s final combat as late as July 1920. He was able to report the following promising facts to the Chief of the War Office Mission in Brussels on 2 September 1920 (old typescript copy of letter included in archive):

‘I had the opportunity of visiting the sector in which my son was shot down on 6 April 1918, in company with a young Officer of the Flying Corps [Donald Gold], who had been shot down in the German lines an hour or two previously. This young Officer was prisoner in the hands of the Germans until after the Armistice.

He accompanied me, with Captain Roberts of the Graves Commission at Amiens, to Lamotte-en-Santerre, and Captain Roberts very kindly promised to do everything in his power to try and trace where my son is buried.

There is a small dump in the corner of one of the fields adjoining the main road, a short distance East of Lamotte-en-Santerre, and in the dump, which had been formed by the farmer when cleaning his land after the war, we found parts of a single seater Aeroplane, which had previously been burnt.

Bearing in mind the evidence of Lieutenant Gold, the young Officer referred to above, there appears to be very little doubt the machine is my son’s.

I am now endeavouring to trace through the Air Ministry whether the engine was salved by the British, and if we can trace that it came from that particular area there will be then very little room for doubt in the matter.

Captain Roberts states that an unknown British Captain was buried a short distance away at Bayon Villers, and on getting my reply as to the engine, he will then decide as to whether this body shall be exhumed for indentification purposes ...’

Postscript
Captain Sydney Philip Smith has no known grave and is commemorated on the Arras Flying Services Memorial.