Orders, Decorations, Medals and Militaria including the collection to Naval Artificers formed by JH Deacon

An immediate Second World War C.G.M. group of five awarded to Warrant Officer H. A. Donaldson, Royal Air Force, who stayed at his post after being seriously wounded by shell splinters in a low-level clandestine mission over France

Conspicuous Gallantry Medal (Flying), G.VI.R. (215802 F./Sgt. H.A. Donaldson, R.A.F.); 1939-45 Star; Air Crew Europe Star, clasp, France and Germany; Defence and War Medals, extremely fine (5) £4000-5000

This lot was sold as part of a special collection, A Fine Collection of Awards to the Men of Bomber Command 1939-45.

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C.G.M. London Gazette 31 March 1944. The immediate award recommendation states:

‘Just after crossing the enemy coast at the start of a special low-level operation, the aircraft in which Sergeant Donaldson was Wireless Operator was heavily and accurately engaged by machine-gun fire and by light flak. The wireless set was damaged and the aircraft set on fire and the Wireless Operator was hit several times in the leg and thigh by shell splinters. With the help of the Flight Engineer, he proceeded to put out the fire and then proceeded to repair his set which he succeeded in restoring to working order. When all this had been quickly and efficiently done, Sergeant Donaldson mentioned quietly to his Captain that he thought he had a “hole in his leg, but nothing to worry about.” The aircraft again came under fire and was further damaged, but Sergeant Donaldson calmly went on with his duties, making light of his injuries and reassuring the crew as to his ability to keep his set going. Although in great pain, Sergeant Donaldson continued for several hours, and remained at his post until the aircraft arrived at dispersal when he was removed in the ambulance. At no time did he cease his duties nor was his voice heard except to give information connected with his duties. The cheerful courage, the coolness in danger and the efficiency which this Wireless Operator displayed have been an outstanding example to all his comrades and are worthy of the highest traditions of the Royal Air Force.’

Warrant Officer Herbert Allison Donaldson, C.G.M., was born in Selby, Yorkshire in 1922 and volunteered for the R.A.F. in November 1940. Eventually called up in January 1941, he commenced training as a Wireless Operator in the following year and joined his first operational posting, No. 199 Squadron, a Stirling unit, at Lakenheath, in October 1943. Allocated to the crew of an Australian pilot, Flying Officer P. Barson [afterwards a Flight Lieutenant, D.F.C.], his first three missions were mining trips to the Frisians, Bordeaux and the Gironde, but in the middle of the following month, he participated in strikes on Leverkusen (‘Slight damage by flak to starboard outer’) and Mannheim, the latter having to be abandoned due to oil pressure problems.

Thereafter, however, the Squadron’s brief was more or less of a clandestine nature, its Stirlings either being employed to drop arms and supplies to the French Resistance, or to participate in radio counter-measures operations (R.C.M.), comprising Window or Mandrel patrols. Donaldson settled down to this new brief following four sorties to ‘Special Targets’ with Wing Commander N.A.N. Bray, D.F.C. in January and February 1944. It was back with Flying Officer Barson, however, on the night of 5-6 March, that Donaldson won his C.G.M. He later wrote of his time on clandestine missions with No. 199 Squadron:

‘I always thought that the best jobs we did were for the French Resistance. We began by practising low-level flying over the River Ouse. If you look at Ely on the map, about six miles N.W. there are two parallel waterways. We had to fly low over the water meadows in between. Only bright moonlight helped over the continent. We got down as low as possible over the Channel, up the cliffs, across the Second Front defences, then it was map reading all the way. Crew members were allocated different viewpoints and called off landscape features as we passed over. Tony, the Navigator [Flying Officer A.A. Duckett], would direct the plane from the map. We had to find a clearing in a forest or a particular field. The Maquis were supposed to flash a torch with a code letter but it was dangerous for them to be flashing lights and sometimes we had to do a square search. We carried about 20 cannisters which we understood contained guns, printing (for false papers) and photographic equipment. The latter was surrounded by thick rubber and was too bulky to go in the bomb bays, so it was placed in the fuselage and it was my job to fasten the static line to the airframe, open the hatch in the floor and push the radio out when I got the signal. Bill, the Rear-Gunner [Sergeant W. Ghigi] would then count the parachutes as they passed below, so that we would know if we had hang up. The secrecy on the ground did not always apply - I think it was Haute Savoie - we could see Mont Blanc in the moonlight in the distance - and the people we were looking for were in a valley with a great bonfire, and they waved like mad as we passed over them. We turned around at the end of the valley, dropped the stuff, then away home. It was a long trip - 8.40 hours - and the old Bristol Hercules radials never coughed once ...’

Of the equally clandestine R.C.M. missions, Donaldson later wrote:

‘We never carried bombs on B.S.R.C.M. operations. For these efforts we had an extra crew member, a special Wireless Operator. He was a very nice bloke [Flying Officer E.C. “Ted” Little], who took care never to usurp my position. His radio equipment was stacked along the fuselage in blue-grey boxes, but it still brought memories of a more homely bit of apparatus and I’m sure Ted got bored with the rest of us passing him in the plane and asking, “Frying tonight?” ... The idea was to put a screen across the enemy radar so that the direction of a bomber force could not be seen. After a few goes someone got the idea of getting some units to “breakdown” and leave a hole in the screen through which the enemy would be able to detect a “fake” bomber force, spot its direction and possible target. I assume that sometimes this misdirection worked well enough but on one occasion the ‘Teutonic psychology’ was misinterpreted and lots of night fighters found themselves in the main bomber stream and we had a bad night ...’

Donaldson went on to complete a tour of nearly 40 operational sorties, most of them of the above described nature, No. 199 latterly operating from North Creake:

‘Every time we landed away from base we would be asked where we came from. After a couple of months we heard every possible variation about a certain ‘creek’ and paddle!’

Rested at No. 1 (O.) A.F.U. at the end of 1944, he logged his final flight in mid-April 1945 and was demobilised in May 1946. Donaldson retired to Yorkshire.

Sold with the recipient’s original Flying Log Book, covering the period February 1943 to April 1945; one or two wartime photographs; and two informative letters written by the recipient in the mid-1990s.