A very rare and important South Russia 1919 operations D.S.O., Great War M.C. group of eleven awarded to Brigadier H. N. H. Williamson, Royal Artillery: attached to the Don Army under General Sidorni, he ‘took part in cavalry charges, steamed over most of Southern Russia in armoured trains and skimmed over the Steppe in biplanes searching for shell dumps mislaid by imbecile staff officers’, an extraordinary chapter of active service vividly described in his published journals Farewell to the Don

Distinguished Service Order, G.V.R., silver-gilt and enamel; Military Cross, G.V.R., unnamed as issued; 1914 Star, with clasp (Lieut. H. N. H. Williamson, R.F.A.); British War and Victory Medals, M.I.D. oak leaf (Major H. N. H. Williamson); 1939-45 Star; Defence and War Medals 1939-45, M.I.D. oak leaf; Coronation 1937; Russia, Order of St. Vladimir, Fourth Class breast badge, with swords, 40 x 40mm., bulbous arms, gilt metal and enamel, unmarked; Belgium, Croix de Guerre 1914-18, enamel work damaged on the St. Vladimir, otherwise generally very fine or better (11) £4000-5000

This lot was sold as part of a special collection, The Bill and Angela Strong Medal Collection.

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D.S.O. London Gazette 27 September 1920:

‘For gallantry and devotion to duty at Celeschina on 27 July 1919, when he assisted a young Russian officer who was fighting an 18-pounder gun against an armoured train at 3,000 yards range. The fire from the train was heavy, and it was entirely due to Major Williamson’s advice and presence that the duel ended in favour of the single 18-pounder.’

M.C. London Gazette 1 January 1918.

Hudleston Noel Hedworth Williamson was born in December 1886, the son of Captain Cecil Hedworth Williamson of Castle Douglas, Kirkcudbrightshire, and was educated at Eton and the R.M.A. Woolwich. Commissioned in the Royal Artillery in December 1907, he was advanced to Captain in October 1914, while serving out in France with 19th Divisional Artillery, but was wounded by gunfire in the thigh, arm and head at Ypres at the end of the latter month. Returning to France in July 1915, he was mentioned in despatches (London Gazette 15 June 1916 refers) and appointed Battery Major of ‘C’ Battery, 110 Brigade, R.F.A. in April 1917, in which capacity he was awarded the M.C. and and again mentioned in despatches (London Gazette 20 December 1918 refers), in addition to being awarded the Belgian Croix de Guerre (London Gazette 15 April 1918 refers).

In April 1919, Williamson was embarked for South Russia, where he initially took up an appointment at the Novocherkask Artillery School, but with the advent of General Denikin’s new offensive that June, he went into action with the Don Army under General Sidorni, gaining his D.S.O. for gallantry in the above cited armoured train action, and the Order of St. Vladimir, 4th Class, with swords, and the Order of St. Stanislaus, 2nd Class, with swords. Luckily for posterity’s sake, Williamson also found time to keep up his journals, thereby leaving a compelling account of his time in South Russia - an account that was published under the title Farewell to the Don in 1970. Rich in detail as a result of his powers of observation, Farewell to the Don very much answers the question ‘What was it like to be there?’. But time and space permit just a glimpse of Williamson’s keen eye at work:

On the nature of revenge adopted by both the Reds and the Whites:

‘After the capture of the railway station, a thorough search was made for any Bolsheviks who might be hiding in the vicinity, and the troops began to push through the houses, their weapons at the ready. Walls and windows were broken and the floors were fouled by horses and stank of human excrement. Furniture was hacked by sabres, mirrors smashed and books charred, and from the wreckage one unfortunate commissar was discovered. His identity was proved beyond all doubt by the papers he carried and his red star badge of office.

Under escort of an N.C.O. and two soldiers, the wretched man was brought to a group of three officers with whom I was talking. It was useless for him to deny his position and he could never have expected to escape with his life. Immediately, two of the young Guards officers with whom I had worked and fought during the last forty-eight hours seemed to cast from them the cloak of refinement which they had appeared to wear so naturally, and the primitive man, embittered by the hatred of the civil war, came into evidence.

The trembling commissar was beaten across the face and head till the blood flowed and he was abused and reviled and threatened with the pains of hell. It was plain that he was about to undergo untold and indescribable suffering and I remonstrated with one of the officers, and finally drew my revolver and said I would no longer witness this type of brutality. The officer turned angrily on me, beating down my right hand. “We are proud and grateful to have you fighting with us and helping us,” he said sharply, “but you do not appreciate the circumstances from the Russian point of view.”

Each of the three men standing with me, it seemed, had lost relations and friends, as well as property, under the most brutal circumstances at the hands of the commissars, of which this man was a typical specimen. “If we were to fall into the hands of Bolsheviks,” he went on furiously, “we should be tortured. We are not torturing the commissar, only frightening him in the hope that he will betray other Bolshevik sympathisers in the neighbourhood.”

They all referred to the massacre of naval and military officers by the men of the Black Sea Fleet at Sebastopol, where the wretched victims were lined up on the decks and given the choice of “dying hot” or “dying cold.” If they chose “hot”, they were tied to planks and fed inch by inch into the ship’s furnaces. If they chose “cold” they had iron bars tied to their feet and were dropped into the sea. They also excitedly related to me some of the appalling atrocities which had been perpetrated against their women relations at Petrograd in 1917 and 1918, and claimed that the prisoner was the type of man who had instigated and encouraged these actions, and was, therefore, more guilty than the ignorant soldiers who were led on by the agitators.

“It is,” the first speaker claimed, “just a personal question between ourselves and him. When this sort of thing happens in England, perhaps you will be able to understand it better! For the time being, please mind your own business!”

Looking at it impartially I had to agree with them, but as we had become very good friends during the last two days, I prevailed on them not to touch the man again and he was taken away and hanged without more ado.’

And on the effectiveness of his guns:

‘I was fairly itching to see a little counter-battery work and even at that range I thought we could have shifted them, but suddenly all attention was diverted to the main attack which appeared in the form of about 400 Red infantry in three lines who appeared from our left front, emerging from a fold in the ground about 4,000 yards away. They carried large red banners and were urged forward by officers waving swords which flashed in the sunshine. They didn’t seem very eager to forge ahead, however, and here and there an officer spurred his horse forward and set about some reluctant man with the flat of his weapon. The lines come closer, straggling and ballooning a little here and there, and we could hear the shouts of the officers, then fire was opened on them and the 4.5 howitzer got well on to them with instantaneous fuse within a few minutes. The 18-pounder battery commander was too far to the left, but once they had found the range, the first half-dozen shells pinned the advancing line of infantry down and they all fell flat to the ground. Three more salvoes sent them back hell-for-leather in the direction from which they had come, a horde of running figures heading full-tilt for shelter. Behind them they left scatterings of equipment, flags, an occasional casualty and infuriated shouting officers, and one aimlessly-wandering riderless horse.’

Suffering from typhus, Williamson was invalided home in May 1920, and took up appointment as an Adjutant in the Territorials (R.A.) on his recovery, and, remaining a regular soldier between the Wars, enjoyed steady advancement, being appointed a substantive Colonel in July 1935 and a Temporary Brigadier and C.R.A. of 50th (Northumbrian) Division on the eve of the renewal of hostilities. Sent out to France with the B.E.F. in November 1939, he later served on the staff of H.Q., III Corps, and won another “mention” for his services in the Field in the period March-June 1940 (London Gazette 20 December 1940 refers). Thereafter, Williamson appears to have served in Eastern Command and he was placed on the Retired List in the honorary rank of Brigadier in November 1945.

Sold with a copy of his published Russian journals, Farewell to the Don, together with photocopies of some of his letters home from Russia, and a transcript of an interview with him on the same subject, and copied service record.