Exceptional Naval and Polar Awards from the Collection of RC Witte

The unique Murmansk 1919 operations D.S.O., Shackleton 1914-16 Antarctic Expedition O.B.E., Q-Ship operations D.S.C. group of twelve awarded to Commander J. R. Stenhouse, Royal Naval Reserve: according to Shackleton ‘he accomplished successfully one of the most difficult journeys on record, in an ocean area notoriously stormy and treacherous’ - just one chapter in a truly remarkable career spanning ‘square-riggers’ in the early 1900s to his death in action in September 1941

Distinguished Service Order, G.V.R., silver-gilt and enamels; The Most Excellent Order of the British Empire, O.B.E. (Civil) breast badge, silver-gilt, hallmarks for London 1919; Distinguished Service Cross, G.V.R., hallmarks for London 1917; British War and Victory Medals, M.I.D. oak leaf (Lieut. J. R. Stenhouse, R.N.R.); 1939-45 Star; Africa Star; Defence and War Medals 1939-45; Polar Medal 1904, silver, 1 clasp, Antarctic 1914-16 (J. R. Stenhouse, Master, “Aurora”); Royal Naval Reserve Decoration, G.V.R., silver, silver-gilt, hallmarks for London 1922; France, Croix de Guerre 1914-1918, with star riband fitment, generally extremely fine (12) £20000-25000

This lot was sold as part of a special collection, Exceptional Naval and Polar Awards from the Collection of RC Witte.

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D.S.O. London Gazette 3 February 1920:

‘For distinguished service in connection with the military operations in Murmansk, North Russia.’

O.B.E. London Gazette 30 March 1920:

‘For services in connection with the War ... Master of the Aurora in Sir Ernest Shackleton’s Antarctic Expedition.’

D.S.C. London Gazette 17 November 1917:

‘For services in action with enemy submarines.’

The original recommendation states:

‘Lieutenant J. R Stenhouse, R.N.R., whose great keenness, vigilance and good seamanship render him an exceptionally valuable officer. But for his promptness in sighting the submarine we might not have been in time to ram her.’

Mention in despatches London Gazette 31 August 1917. The original recommendation states:

‘He displayed excellent spirit and perfect discipline on the occasion of an action with an enemy submarine on 2 July 1917.’

Joseph Russell Stenhouse, the scion of a Scottish ship building family, was born in Dumbarton in November 1887, and first went to sea in 1903 - his father and grandfather were well-known for the clippers they built under the name Birrell, Stenhouse & Company, and young Joseph became one of the last men to gain his Master’s Certificate in a square-rigger. In fact, as one obituarist put it, ‘Sailing ships were in his blood.’

Shackleton’s Antarctic Expedition 1914-16

In August 1914, Stenhouse joined Shackleton’s Trans-Antarctic Expedition, initially as Chief Officer of the Aurora, under Lieutenant A.L.A. Mackintosh, R.N.R., but when the ship reached a suitable landing place near Hut Point in January 1915, Mackintosh went ashore with his Ross Sea party and Stenhouse took overall command.

Shackleton had ordered Stenhouse to winter the Aurora north of Glacier Tongue, but since the ice was in a constant state of movement and no shelter could be found from the tearing winds and blizzards, it was not until March 1915 that a suitable anchorage could be found. By that stage large quantities of coal had been used up in fighting against the ice packs and the chosen anchorage could only be described by the Second Officer ‘as good a place as there is at present offering’. Despite every effort to secure stable moorings it was not uncommon for the anchors and supporting wire hawsers to be wrenched up by drifting ice and on 6 May 1915, during a severe southerly gale, the Aurora was finally cast adrift. The Second Officer records the event thus:

‘At 9.35 p.m. or thereabouts I had just been turned in when the after moorings began to strain and the decks to groan and then I knew the ice had again started to go out of North Bay C. Evans. This was a very dangerous thing as the ice was so thick. I did not turn out immediately but it got so bad that Hooke woke me to come out and I was thinking it was about time I was making a move. As the strain was so great that something had to go either the decks with the bits or the wires. I soon found out which it was as the two wires parted with reports like the report of guns and then I heard several other snaps and by the time I was dressed fit to go on deck I could see we had carried away all our moorings and we were going out into the Sound with our bow anchors down. We called all hands and put tackles upon our cables to relieve our windlass of the strain when we dragged our anchors. The Engine Room were set to work to get everything ready for steam. I was let go after midnight by the Chief Officer but there was mighty little sleep to be had as the ship got out from under the shelter of the land. The wind was blowing fiercely and it was so thick that one could only see a few yards from the ship and when the floe we were stuck fast in began to break up and we got amongst the loose pack, the pounding this ship got would have sent almost any steel ship to the bottom but this ship stood it wonderfully well. So ended the most eventful night of the trip up to the present.’

The Aurora now had to take her chance with the pack ice and whilst Mackintosh and the shore party were on the minds of Stenhouse and his crew, for they were aware the former were in need of supplies, there was nothing they could do to get south again since the Aurora had been forced into a northward course (it was at this time that Shackleton and the Endurance were suffering the same fate on the opposite side of the Antarctic continent).

By July the Aurora began to suffer from the pressure of the ice and her rudder was smashed and carried away - in fact conditions became so bad that preparations were made for her to be abandoned. However, Stenhouse was able to reverse this decision when the climate showed signs of improvement and a replacement rudder had been constructed.

On 6 August 1915 Mount Sabine and Cape Adare came into view and by 22 September Sturge Island was sighted and Oates Land was seen to the south. The main problems aboard the ship at this stage were a shortage of food and clothing, but by February 1916 the ice was showing signs of breaking up and Stenhouse realised they stood a fighting chance of getting back to New Zealand. The melting pack ice left the Aurora at the mercy of some substantial ice floes and if these were combined with a heavy swell, then the ship’s position became somewhat precarious. The entry in the ship’s log, 29 February 1916, states:

‘The battering and ramming of the floes increased in the early hours until it seemed as if some sharp floe or jagged underfoot must go through the ship’s hull. At 6 a.m. we converted a large coil-spring into a fender and slipped it under the port quarter, where a pressured flow with a twenty to thirty feet underfoot was threatening to knock the propeller and stern-post off altogether. At 9 a.m., after pumping ship, the engineer reported a leak in the way of the propeller-shaft aft near the stern-post on the port side. The carpenter cut part of the lining and filled the space between the timbers with Stockholm tar, cement and oakum. He could not get at the actual leak, but his makeshift made a little difference. I am anxious about the propeller. This pack is a dangerous place for a ship now.’

Because of the shortage of coal, steam was not raised until 1 March, but following a further two weeks of battle against the ice, the Aurora cleared the pack - in celebration Stenhouse ‘spliced the main brace’ and blew three blasts of farewell to the ice with the ship’s whistle. He now had a long voyage back to New Zealand with a battered ship and only a few tons of coal left in the bunkers. There were times when they made little progress and even when the replacement rudder could be lowered for use, it needed constant nursing. In addition there existed a shortage of crew, and one or two of the men were creating difficulties.

Despite all these serious difficulties, the Aurora safely reached Port Chalmers in April 1916 - an achievement which was largely made possible by the outstanding seamanship of Stenhouse. Shackleton later wrote: ‘He accomplished successfully one of the most difficult journeys on record, in an ocean area notoriously stormy and treacherous.’

Stenhouse was awarded the O.B.E.

“Mystery Ships”

Having been appointed a probationary Sub. Lieutenant in the Royal Naval Reserve in August 1914, Stenhouse now commenced a distinguished career in “Mystery Ships”, when he was appointed to the “splendid Penshurst”, under Lieutenant Cedric Naylor, D.S.O., D.S.C., R.N.R., in May 1917. And he quickly saw action, Penshurst having a protracted duel with an enemy submarine in the Western Approaches on 2 July. Narrowly avoiding a torpedo, Naylor ordered out the ship’s “panic party” and waited for the enemy to close - alas, the latter chose to stand off at 6,000 yards, and then 4,500 yards astern, delivering a positive storm of fire - luckily inaccurate fire - from the submarine’s forward gun. At length, Naylor lost his patience and closed the enemy:

‘I gave orders first of all for ‘dead slow’ and then, as the ship began to answer the helm, ‘full speed ahead’, in order to bring all guns to bear on the port side.

At 4.13 p.m. we opened fire at a range of 4,500 yards with common pointed shell, the engines then being stopped. At this stage hits from all the guns were observed, and after the second or third hit a dense cloud of white smoke issued from abaft the conning tower, and then rolled away leeward, where it hung low down in a dense cloud for a considerable number of minutes. No more smoke was observed to issue from the submarine. Then her stern settled down and her bows rose slightly out of the water and she continued in this trim until 4.45 p.m., when she appeared to regain her natural trim. At this stage we observed 16 hits, 11 on the conning tower and five in the hull.

All this time the submarine was under weigh and crossing our bows. Eventually, as the 12-pounder could no longer bear on the submarine, I went full speed ahead and brought all guns on the port side to bear, and at the same time attempted to close the submarine. However, she began to draw away from us, and finally passed out of range and ultimately, at 5.30 p.m., sight.’

Stenhouse was mentioned in despatches and, five days after the action in question, removed to P-61, under Lieutenant-Commander F. A. Worsley, R.N.R. And, once again, he was quickly in action. Worsely takes up the story:

‘Lieutenant J. R. Stenhouse, R.N.R., was on the Bridge with me, when he sighted an object through the thick mist. This object was bearing on our starboard beam about half a mile distant. The helm was immediately put hard a port and engines full speed ahead, and, as we turned towards the object, it was observed to be an enemy submarine on the surface distant about half a mile away and heading westward, steaming at nine knots.

Action stations had previously been sounded and immediately the submarine was properly sighted, fire was opened from the port 12-pounder gun, and one round of common shell at point-blank range was fired into the submarine, striking her just before the conning tower.

Engines were now being worked at full speed and course being shaped to ram the submarine.

Both engines were stopped to permit the bows to drop deeper in the water, and make a better hit as the ship sinks down aft at full speed.

The orders to the engine room had just been obeyed when P-61 struck the enemy stem on the port side just abaft the conning tower at a speed of at least 20 knots. Just before the impact, I gave orders to ‘Stand by to ram’ and a severe shock was felt. I believe the submarine turned over as we passed over her.

When our stern was over the enemy vessel a very violent explosion took place and I thought for a moment that we had been torpedoed by another submarine.

Engines which had been stopped were now put ahead again and the ship circled under starboard helm taking a position at the place of the explosion.

The sea round this spot was boiling with foam and rushes of immense air bubbles were coming to the surface for some minutes after the explosion. Oil was also observed floating on the surface of the water.

As I circled back I saw two men struggling in the water and life belts were immediately thrown to them. One managed to secure a hold and was afterwards brought on board P-61 in the second whaler. The other was drowned.

The survivor was Alfred Arnold, who proved to be the Commanding Officer of the submarine.’

Stenhouse was awarded the D.S.C. and, in early October, assumed command of another Q-ship, the Ianthe, in which capacity he remained employed until 1918.

North Russia 1918-19

In the autumn of 1918, Shackleton, then a Major, was sent to Murmansk as a Director of Equipment and Transport for Syren Force, and, in order to strengthen his position, he requested four members from his earlier Antarctic expeditions to join him - thus the arrival of a brace of recently employed Q-ship C.Os: Stenhouse and Worsely.

Given German ambitions to use Murmansk as a U-boat base, Shackleton declared to his new arrivals, ‘I’d like us to finish up with each of us driving a dog-team over the snow into Berlin’, a wish never granted in the light of the Armistice, and the growing distractions of equipping our land forces for the fight against the Bolsheviks.

For his own part, Stenhouse was actively employed alongside the Finns, leading a flotilla of small craft on Lake Onega - among them his own command, the Jolly Roger. Such duties aside, he was from time to time asked to partake in operations of a more clandestine nature, akin to the type of work carried out by Agar, V.C., in his C.M.Bs from Terrioki.

Thus what was described as ‘a curious mission’ - with a Royal Marines’ detachment drawn from H.M.S. Glory - to the Finnish border at Knaja Ghuba, in March 1919, where delicate negotiations were under way to repatriate some Finnish Red Guards and their ex-Prime Minister, Mr. Tochoi - the “Reds” wanted to remain armed, but the “Whites” were having none of it. Meanwhile, Stenhouse and his men, having travelled over two days in cattle trucks, holed up in a pine forest to await developments - snow was thick on the ground and Finnish scouts on skis were all around them. In the event, however, a successful conclusion was negotiated between the two factions and Stenhouse returned to Lake Onega.

He was awarded the D.S.O.

Further work in the Antarctic

In 1921, Shackleton embarked on his next Antarctic adventure in the Quest, a vessel that quickly proved difficult to handle, so he wrote to a friend saying he hoped to get Stenhouse to join him at Cape Town, ‘for I can see it will require everyone to be a sailor to handle this ship.’ Famously, however, events overtook his request, when, in early January 1922, Shackleton died.

But between 1924-27, Stenhouse served as National Adviser to the Discovery Research Committee, and he re-rigged and commanded Scott’s old ship on whaling research work on the fringes of Antarctica for two years. And between time passed in pack-ice and elsewhere, he managed to keep up his R.N.R. training exercises and to write his sailing ship memoirs, Cracker Hash. He was, moreover, awarded the R.N.R. Decoration (London Gazette 1 May 1928 refers), and advanced to Commander.

Journey’s End

Recalled on the renewal of hostilities in September 1939, he was appointed S.N.O. afloat on the Thames and Medway Examination Service, his ship being mined in October 1940 with a loss of eleven lives - to no-one’s surprise, Stenhouse risked his life in saving another. Three months later, after a period of recovery from this latest ordeal, he was ordered to join the Staff of the C.-in-C. East Indies, for salvage duties, and he duly arrived at the Aden shore base Sheba. And it was during operations out of this base that he was posted missing, presumed killed, near Massowah, on 12 September 1941, though the exact nature of his fate remains uncertain.

‘Duty’, according to his ex-shipmate and Q-ship C.O., Worsely, was Stenhouse’s watchword. And his epitaph should be ‘A seaman - he served his country well.’

Sold with a small quantity of original documentation, comprising a telegram from Shackleton, sent via Port Stanley and New Zealand, dated 10 June 1916, ‘Accept Yourself Convey Staff Congratulations Safety and Appreciation Services. Shackleton’; a contemporary carbon copy of a message from Rear-Admiral F. E. Green, S.N.O., White Sea, recommending that Stenhouse and Lieutenant-Commander Worsley be appointed to the command of the icebreakers Sviatogor and Alexander, dated 13 September 1919; and Admiralty condolence slips for his 1939-45 awards.

N.B.:
When originally sold at Sotheby’s on 27 June 1985 (Lot 343), and described as ‘The Property of Mrs. J. P. Mantell, Daughter of Commander J. R. Stenhouse’, the cataloguer noted that the ‘recipient’s original D.S.O. was stolen and that the example offered for sale was a replacement obtained by the family.’