Orders, Decorations, Medals and Militaria

The outstanding and rare Great War ‘immediate’ M.C., immediate ‘V.C. action’ D.F.C. and Waziristan 1925 M.I.D. group of seven awarded to Group Captain J. A. G. Haslam, Royal Air Force and Royal Field Artillery - ‘Freddie’ West’s Observer in 8 Squadron for both awards including the D.F.C. action, for which West was awarded the Victoria Cross, and during which epic engagement both airmen were wounded

Military Cross, G.V.R., unnamed as issued; Distinguished Flying Cross, G.V.R., unnamed as issued; British War and Victory Medals (Lieut. J. A. G. Haslam. R.A.F.); India General Service 1908-35, 1 clasp, Waziristan 1925, with M.I.D. oak leaves (F/L. J. A. G. Haslam. R.A.F.); Defence and War Medals 1939-45, mounted on card for display, lightly polished, generally very fine (7) £10,000-£15,000

M.C. London Gazette 26 July 1918 (jointly listed with his pilot, Lieutenant F. M. F. West):

‘For conspicuous gallantry and devotion to duty. While on patrol, he, with another officer, observed fifteen motor lorries. As these could not be engaged by artillery by zone call, these officers flew 8,000 yards over the enemy lines, at a height of 3,800 feet, in the face of strong opposition from the ground, and dropped four bombs, obtaining direct hits on the lorries and doing considerable damage to their personnel. They then proceeded to attack them with machine-gun fire as they sought cover. A fortnight later they carried out, at a height of 150 feet, a reconnaissance of their corps front, on which an attack was expected. Despite the fact that the clouds were at 200 feet, and there was a thick mist, they obtained most valuable information. During this flight they directed and located the fire of our artillery on a concentration of enemy infantry. Throughout the operations their work in co-operation with our artillery was always of the greatest value, and their enterprise in attacking enemy troops and transport with bombs and machine-gun fire was splendid.’

The original recommendation states:

‘For conspicuous bravery and devotion in carrying out low reconnaissances, and in co-operation with our artillery.

While on patrol near Wiencourt L’Equipee on the morning of April 22nd, 1918, they observed fifteen motor lorries on the Guillancourt Road. As these could not be engaged by our artillery by zone call, they flew 8,000 yards over the enemy lines at a height of 3,800 feet, in the face of strong opposition from the ground, and dropped four bombs, obtaining direct hits on the lorries and doing considerable damage to their personnel. They then proceeded to attack them with machine gun fire as they sought cover.

On April 5th, 1918, they carried out, at a height of 150 feet, a reconnaissance of their Corps front, on which an attack was thought to be about to be made. Despite the fact that the clouds were at 200 feet, and there was a thick mist, they obtained most valuable information. During this flight they located and directed the fire of our Artillery on a concentration of enemy infantry East of Morlancourt.

Their work in co-operation with our artillery has always been of the greatest value, and their enterprise in attacking enemy troops and transport with bombs and machine gun fire, hard to surpass.’

D.F.C. London Gazette 3 December 1918:

‘On 10th August this officer performed a very gallant action. While carrying out a contact patrol he was attacked by seven enemy scouts. Although wounded in the leg at the outset of the engagement, Lt. Haslam, with rare courage and determination, continued to serve his machine gun. One of the enemy aeroplanes was driven down, and the remainder dispersed.’

The original recommendation states:

‘For courage and determination in the face of a vastly superior force of enemy aircraft.

On August 10th, 1918, while carrying out a Contact Patrol Reconnaissance for our Tanks, he and his pilot were attacked near Roye by seven enemy scouts. Lieut. Haslam, although wounded in the leg at the outset of the combat, continued to serve his machine gun, with the result that one of the enemy machines went down with its engine damaged, and the remainder were driven off.

Throughout the days of the 8th, 9th and 10th of August, 1918, he carried out work of sterling value while on Contact Patrol, and his pluck in maintaining the fight on the 10th, after being wounded, is worthy of high praise.’

Haslam’s pilot, ‘Freddie’ West, was awarded the Victoria Cross for the above action. His award appeared in the London Gazette 8 November 1918, thus:

‘In recognition of his outstanding bravery during aerial combat. Captain West, while engaging hostile troops at a low altitude far over the enemy lines, was attacked by seven enemy aircraft. Early in the engagement one of his legs was partially severed by an explosive bullet, and fell powerless into the controls, rendering the machine for the time unmanageable. Lifting his disabled leg, he regained control of the machine, and, although wounded in the other leg, he, with surpassing bravery and devotion to duty, manoeuvred his machine so skilfully that his observer was enabled to get several good bursts into the enemy machines, which drove them away. Captain West then, with rare courage and determination, desperately wounded as he was, brought his machine over our lines and landed safely. Exhausted by his exertions, he fainted, but on regaining consciousness insisted on writing his report.’

M.I.D. London Gazette 20 November 1925 (Waziristan).

James Alexander Gordon ‘Alec’ Haslam was the son of Mr and Mrs J. B. Haslam of 3 Bilton Road, Rugby, and was born in September 1896. He was educated at Rugby, and was awarded an exhibition at Corpus Christi, Cambridge - but in 1915 he opted to enter the Royal Military Academy at Woolwich. Haslam was commissioned Second Lieutenant in the Royal Field Artillery in February 1916, and served with the 125th Brigade, R.F.A. in the French theatre of war. Securing a secondment to the flying service in 1918, he trained as an observer and was posted to 8 Squadron (F.K.8’s) in Spring of that year.

Haslam was crewed up with Lieutenant F. M. F. West as his pilot, the latter’s biography Winged Diplomat gives the following:

‘I had one unfailing source of uplift at this time, in the shape of my new observer, Lt. James [sic] Haslam. He was seconded from the Royal Artillery and was invaluable on artillery reconnaissance and range-spotting. He was finally allotted to me personally, and it was a comforting thought, when up above the lines with shrapnel flying around and enemy aircraft in the offing, that he was behind me. Haslam had been a Rugby scholar at Cambridge. Silent and shy, he oozed scholarship although he tried to hide it beneath a cloak of simplicity. He had been doing brilliantly at Cambridge and hoped to return there.’

The pair immediately hit it off in the air, and were to survive many scrapes together as Chaz Bowyer relates in For Valour - the Air VC’s:

‘A particularly dangerous low-level sortie for West and Haslam came on 23 April [sic], when they set out to bomb a concentration of German transport well behind the enemy lines. Reaching their objective, the F.K.8 crew made an accurate bombing run and then strafed the target from near zero height before turning for home. As they reached the front line again their aircraft was hit repeatedly by an intense barrage of ground fire, suffering hits in its engine and having an aileron shot away. By skill and good judgement, West scraped across the Allied front lines and accomplished a safe landing only 100 yards west of the trenches. This sortie typified many of West’s patrols during the fierce air activity of April 1918, and it became almost a common sight for 8 Squadron’s F.K.8’s to return from the battle scarred and tattered, victims of the unceasing ground barrage through which they were constantly required to operate. On 1 May, West and Haslam were each awarded a Military Cross for their own parts in the struggle.’

West takes up the story in Winged Diplomat:

‘On May 1st L-M [Leigh-Mallory] sent for Haslam and myself. “I’ve got a written communication from General Rawlinson about you two chaps,” he said. “He congratulates you on the award of the Military Cross by Field Marshal Sir John Haig, Commander-in-Chief, for conspicuous gallantry and devotion to duty. Well Done!”

Haslam and I came in for several rough passages on patrol flights in July. Bitter fighting was everywhere, on the ground and in the sky. On July 15th the Second Battle of the Marne opened and on the 18th Foch counter-attacked. The great last act of the war was in full swing and both sides were throwing everything they had into the conflict. Army Corps Headquarters got wind of a pending attack on their front and were desperate for information on concentration of troops, guns and ammunition. The trouble was that the weather was appallingly bad. The low rain clouds would not break up, and if the rain stopped a steamy mist intervened. Our artillery were in dire straits, unable to locate targets without air reconnaissance. To fly along the Corps front, over the German lines, under the cloud bank, was an unwelcome task. At two hundred feet a plane would be a wonderful target, and there were the German balloons to cope with.

Headquarters’ anxiety grew with every day. It became clear that the fate of many lives depended on the ability of a few airmen to provide information. Leigh-Mallory was worried. I must have caught his eye. I was one of his experienced pilots now. He gave Haslam and me the task. Next morning, in a long sortie in wet, misty weather, Haslam and I flew up and down the Corps’ front while I directed our artillery fire. All personal fear vanished in the tremendous thrill and fascination of the task. The lines of moving troops were spotted, the map location determined and then tapped out in code on the transmitter in the cockpit, with the wind whistling past and the fragile machine bumping from the shrapnel explosions around us. Seconds later we saw the results of our spotting in the vivid flashes from our guns and, after what seemed quite a long pause, the explosives bursting silently around the target.

Everything the Germans could throw at us they did. Yet miraculously we were both unscathed. The rain and mist proved friendly to us, making up for the clouds which drove us down on to the enemy guns. Sheets of rain carried on gusts of wind, obstructed the enemy’s aim, and when the gusts stopped the mist rolled its obstructive vapours slowly along in disconcerting eddies.

Leigh-Mallory was in high spirits when we got back. He said that aerial reconnaissance information, collected along the whole of the sector front, had revealed a picture to our Intelligence of a heavy wedge formation attack about to be launched to break right through our lines and turn the front, cutting our communications to the sea.’

The following month was to prove just as hectic for Haslam and West, and indeed led to the ultimate recognition of all of their deeds in the air:

‘When on 8th August 1918 the first waves of Allied infantry swept forward through the morning mists and completely surprised the German defences, West and his companions flew through the fog and managed to obtain much useful intelligence on the progress of the ground forces, though he only located his aerodrome again with the assistance of rocket flares fired from the airfield through the blinding mist, and subsequently crashed on landing, sustaining minor cuts and bruises. Next day West and Haslam were out again, attacking German troops from tree-height, when their engine was shot out of action and West was lucky to reach the Allied lines and effect a safe landing.....

On the morning of 10 August, West and Haslam climbed into AWFK8 C8594 and set out from their unit base at Vignacourt (north of Amiens) tasked with co-operation with tanks advancing towards Roye. Breaking through the persistent low mists into blue sky, West headed south-east, skirting the top layer of fog, hoping to find breaks in the cloud to help him locate his charges.

Suddenly a clear gap revealed a large wood, along the edge of which was a huge concentration of German troops and transport. Diving low to verify his whereabouts - he was then in the Ham to Hombleux area, north-east of Roye - West made a tally of the strength of the enemy formation; he then flew through a curtain of machine-gun fire to concealment in the low clouds again. Still unsatisfied that he had pinpointed the German troop concentration accurately, West diving through the mists again, but was attacked from behind by several German scouts, one of which put a burst through West’s cockpit, smashing his wireless transmitter and wounding him in the right foot. Despite his pain, West finally rediscovered the clear gap in the clouds and flew low over the enemy concentration, marking its position precisely in his mind.

Turning for home in order to get his information back quickly, he ran into the path of at least five more German scouts which dived in attack. With his front gun in action, and Haslam’s Lewis adding to the exchange, West then received five bullets in succession in his left leg; slashing through the flesh and bone and severing an artery. The shock misted West’s mind and vision, and it was several seconds before he vaguely realised that his machine was diving out of control. Hauling back weakly on his control column, he levelled out just above the trees and headed west, still under attack from one persistent German scout. His shattered left leg was losing blood copiously and West twisted the khaki shorts’ leg into a makeshift tourniquet with his left hand.

It became obvious to him that he could never reach Vignacourt in such a rapidly weakening state; his senses reeled under bouts of pain and lapsed into semiconsciousness between bouts. Deciding to land as soon as a safe area was seen, West lifted his useless left leg from the rudder bar, and then manoeuvred into a flat glide to earth, still under fire from the relentless scout still pursuing.

Rolling to a shaky halt on a patch of rough ground, West became only distantly aware of the subsequent events as some nearby Canadian troops rushed to assist the F.K.8 crew. Ripping away the fabric from the side of the cockpit, the soldiers lifted West out, bound his near severed leg and carried him across the field to the nearest road, where he was placed in an ambulance and taken to a nearby casualty station. Though now lapsing into recurring waves of unconsciousness due to the massive pain from his wound, West insisted, in a lucid moment, on having an officer of 8 Squadron sent over, in order to tell him of the enemy troop concentration he had discovered. This was done when the squadron recording officer came to the casualty station and jotted down West’s information after which West fainted.

When Freddie West finally woke up again, the pain in his legs had disappeared, to be replaced by a violent itch in both feet and toes. Throwing back the blankets to reach the irritation, West was completely shocked to see that his left leg had gone - amputated - despite the still irritating itch he could distinctly feel the missing leg.

After a short spell in Rouen hospital, West was sent home to the London hospital in Whitechapel; where on 8 November 1918 he was told of the Gazette notice that day of his award of the Victoria Cross.’ (For Valour - the Air VC’s by C. Bowyer refers)

That was the end of the successful combination of West and Haslam in the air - the latter was also wounded and had a period of recuperation, finding out that he had been awarded the D.F.C. in the process. Four days after their heroics, Haslam wrote the following letter to a friend from 8 Squadron:

‘Dear Swales,

I hope this will find you back again to pleasanter parts, and with no other gaps in the Flight. In case this is the first information you’ve had of what happened to us, I will presume sufficient curiosity in you to warrant my setting forth the story.

We had been watching and watched by seven Fokker Bips from the time we arrived on the line; however six Bristols and some others were close at hand and though we couldn’t persuade them to attack the Huns, even by flying practically into the Hun formation ourselves, they certainly gave us great security.

We then changed our patrol and had a look at the large junction E. of it and found it well worth a visit; time being short we turned for home and were at about 1000ft and over our lines when a Fokker Bip appeared in the clouds about 1000ft above us. We continued towards home and he flew after us. I don’t know whether he’d seen us before but anyhow he came along faster, still keeping well above us. So West flat turned and made him look a bit silly. He was straight above us and stalling to pull up. So I thought a few rounds wouldn’t be wasted especially as I didn’t think he would attack, we being very low and right over our lines. However, he came round on our tail and started in. We were getting along splendidly at about 150 yards range when he decided to close in and at the same time an empty click came from my guns. Of course he was encouraged and came in and did the dirty on us just at the time I was changing drums. By the time I had another drum on he had buzzed off and West was just about landing: he made an excellent forced landing and I then remembered having felt my leg hit in the scrap, and realised that it was, and found that old West had been hit a nasty one in the left knee - right early on he said - but had crossed his right leg over and so brought us down; which was a pretty stout effort as in addition to getting it right in the bone etc. of the knee he has lost a lot of blood before he landed.

Well all’s well that ends well. We’d landed nearly on top of two motor ambulances, so we buzzed right off. And before we moved off I heard that the Hun had been fetched down tout de suite - God, I hope I helped....... I collected a beauty through the left calf - clean through and no bone injury. Rather a large and lurid exit otherwise the perfect Blighty.

The Hun was using explosives - I saw one burst on the empenage and another apparently on my gun, but that must have come through somewhere else as I feel certain my gun wasn’t hit. By the way if you want your observer to have a good pair of guns I recommend my old ones - 22...6 and 22396 - the latter is the ‘elder and better’ - if there is anything in it; they work at 11 and a half lbs tension not less.....’

Haslam advanced to Flight Lieutenant, and after recuperation he served with the BF2b equipped 5 Squadron in Waziristan (Mentioned in Despatches). He retired in June 1927, and resumed his studies in engineering at Cambridge:

‘Haslam made a significant contribution to the study of airflow over aircraft wings. One of his experiments, with wool tufts on the wings of a Bristol Fighter, was used to discriminate between steady and turbulent airflow.

He developed this investigation with Air Ministry approval while a pilot in the Cambridge University Air Squadron from 1929 to 1930. He also carried out research on stalled control... He produced a series of flight experimental papers for the Aeronautical Research Council which led, in 1930, to his election as an Associate Fellow of the Royal Aeronautical Society. In the same year he also joined the Asiatic Petroleum Co, where his technical duties included flying as an experimental test pilot.

From 1935 until the outbreak of the Second World War Haslam was engaged in further experimental and research work at Cambridge, where he lectured on aeronautics. Recalled to the R.A.F. in 1939, he served mostly at the Ministry of Aircraft Production where he became deputy director of technical development.

In 1946, by now a retired Group Captain, he returned to Cambridge as a lecturer in aeronautical engineering and three years later was elected to a Corpus Christi Fellowship.

But in 1952, after assisting Sir George Thomson’s election as Master, he resigned his Fellowship to seek Holy Orders.’ (The Daily Telegraph Obituary, dated 26 November 1990 refers)

After serving as a Rector for a number of years in rural Wiltshire, Haslam finally retired and returned to reside at 12 Marlborough Court, Cambridge. Group Captain Haslam died in November 1990.

Sound with copied research.