Orders, Decorations, Medals and Militaria

A superb Second War 1943 ‘immediate’ Typhoon pilot’s D.F.C. group of six awarded to Squadron Leader I. J. ‘Dave’ Davies, Royal Air Force, a former Corporal Clerk who went on to shoot down 3 FW 190’s during a scrap over the streets of Margate, 1 June 1943 - his first ever engagement with enemy aircraft. A stalwart of 609 Squadron, he went on to add a Dornier 217 to his tally before being posted to command 198 Squadron in time for D-Day operations.

Davies successfully led his squadron in an attack on the HQ of the German 84th Corps in a chateau near St. Lo, which was totally destroyed by rocket salvoes, 6 June 1944. His luck ran out when he was shot down by flak whilst attacking gun positions in support of American troops near Cherbourg, 22 June 1944 - ‘He tried to coax it to safety but to no avail and, at 200 feet, Dave bailed out, but he was too low and his parachute was only partially open when he hit the ground’

Distinguished Flying Cross, G.VI.R., reverse officially dated ‘1943’; General Service 1918-62, 1 clasp, Palestine (590433. L.A.C. I. J. Davies. R.A.F.); 1939-45 Star; Air Crew Europe Star, 1 clasp, France and Germany; Defence and War Medals 1939-45, mounted on card for display, with named Air Council enclosure and ‘ticker tape’ entitlement slip, both laminated, nearly extremely fine (6) £3,000-£4,000

D.F.C. London Gazette 3 September 1943, the original recommendation states:

‘Flying Officer I. J. Davies joined No. 609 (WR) Squadron, in April, 1943, after long service in Training Command, and previously as Air Gunner. Apart from taking his full share in Day Defensive Patrols which occupied most of the Squadron’s flying time, he at once showed enthusiasm for individual offensive sorties by day and night, whenever the opportunity offered, and in his first attempt damaged the one locomotive (despite flak) and 2 barges, leaving one in a sinking condition. He also has taken part in a number of shipping attacks and larger scale offensive operations. On June 1st he was patrolling base with another pilot when he saw some 15 FW 190’s attacking Margate. He at once engaged them, destroying one over Broadstairs, a second in mid channel and a third off Ostend, being attacked on the way having to evade 2 more enemy aircraft which tried to attack off their own coast when his own ammunition was exhausted. This was Flying Officer’s Davies first combat with enemy aircraft.

His score is as follows: 3 FW 190s destroyed, 2 Locomotives and 2 Barges damaged, 1 Motor Trawler damaged (shared).

He has also bombed Abbeville and Drucat airfields at night.

Covering Remarks by Sector Commander:

F/O Davies’ action in destroying three enemy aircraft during the attack on Margate was an outstanding achievement. I fully endorse this recommendation.’

Additional detail of Davies’ remarkable ‘scrap’ over Margate is given the squadron history, The Story of 609 Squadron - Under The White Rose, by F. Ziegler:

‘Davies attacks four FW 190s which are gunning the streets of Broadstairs. Chasing down after them between the houses, with his own guns blazing, he just has time to see one pull up and its pilot bale out before giving chase to another six which are headed out to sea - five in a ‘vic’, with one in the ‘box’. Firing on the last from 600 yards, this aircraft obliges by ‘weaving’, and closing the range he fires twice more, and it crashes into the sea in a great fountain of water. But he himself has to turn, he is alone, but resuming his original course at full boost, spots another pair of 190s, with a third to port. Saving his last second’s worth of ammo till he is well within range, he attacks the last and it bursts into flame. They are now exactly over Ostend, and the others turn to counterattack. Time to go home. Score: Three.

A quite breathtaking story which certainly caught the attention of the public when it was published in the National Press on 3 September 1943.’

Idwal James Davies was to later sit for a portrait by Cuthbert Orde, and his life and service are recorded in an article by Wing Commander J. Routledge thus:

‘Let me tell you the story of the recipient of one group of medals in my collection and see if I can convince you that twentieth century awards can compete in interest and in every other way with earlier medals.

Idwal James Davies was on February 15, 1915 at Abertridur, near Caerphilly, Glamorgan. At the age of 15, he left his school-friends and the comfort and security of his family to join the R.A.F. as an apprentice clerk. He enlisted on October 29, 1930 and given the service number 590433. His apprenticeship was enjoyable, albeit somewhat long in comparison with today’s service apprenticeships and it was not until February 18, 1933 that his training was complete. He passed out as a Leading Aircraftman (LAC) in the trade of Clerk, General Duties...

The first real excitement for young Dave, as he was known throughout his service career, came in October 1935 with a posting to Iraq, from where he moved on to Palestine in August 1936... Yet he was a discontented young man, whose heart was never in clerical work as he yearned for more excitement. His mind was forever in the air and he dreamed of emulating the aviators that he mingled with. He took every opportunity to get airborne and despite his secretarial role managed many flights as an unofficial air gunner. One particular pilot who befriended Dave in those Palestine days was Pilot Officer J. C. Wells [later Group Captain and D.F.C. and Bar]: their paths would cross again in years to come.

With promotion to Corporal on August 15, 1937 and further advancement to the temporary rank of Sergeant, on the outbreak of World War Two, things were beginning to move for Dave, though he was still far from content. The taste he had experienced for flying was still there and had left in him an avid desire to become a fighter pilot. Surely, now that we were at war his services would be needed; clerks were two-a-penny, but fighter pilots...? He pressed his case and was eventually accepted for pilot training, which started in August 1940. He quickly proved himself to be a natural aviator and successfully completed training in April 1941, being awarded his wings and simultaneously being granted a commission as Pilot Officer (service number 63418) in the General Duties Branch (London Gazette May 2, 1941). He was now over 25 years of age, a little old to be starting a career as a fighter pilot. The air battles of France and Britain had been fought and the ex-clerk felt it was now too late, believing that his chance of glory had been missed. His above average flying ability and his maturity in comparison with the many teenagers coming through training combined against him and it should have been no surprise, albeit still a great disappointment, that Pilot Officer Davies found himself retained on instructional duties, the first of a series of such tours in Training Command. Not what the ambitious Dave would have planned for himself and as Charles Lovell would have said, “Not a lot of romance in that.”

Dave was appointed to the rank of Acting Flying Officer on May 23, 1941 to give him some authority in his new position and he quickly became something of a character, admired by his students and fellow instructors alike. He was something of a rebel. There were moments of madness which, in a peacetime airforce, could have ruined him. At R.A.F. Little Rissington, in the spring of 1942, he was tried by General Court Martial for “Whilst on active service improperly and without permission flying below the prescribed height”. Dave was engaged to be married to a young lady from nearby Cheltenham at the time and I envisage him showing off a little to impress her and also to convince his students that he was more cut out to be a fighter ace than an instructor in Training Command. Even in war the court martialling of an officer was a serious matter. Dave was found “Guilty”, severely reprimanded and ordered to take precedence as if appointed Pilot Officer on April 14, 1942. The 12 months seniority he valued had been lost: he was at the bottom of the pile again.

Dave married his fiancée some seven weeks later and three days before his posting away from the delights of Gloucestershire. The R.A.F. has always had a way of dealing with its rebels! However, he continued to press his case to fly operationally and with his posting to 609 Squadron on March 30, 1943 he had his wish granted. 609 Squadron operated with the sturdy Typhoons, which, whilst perhaps not having the glamour of the earlier Spitfires, were excellent gun platforms and worthy fighter aircraft. Within the Service they were known as the “train busters”. Dave’s only concern was that at the age of 28 it was all too late. But was it? It didn’t take him long to make his mark with the squadron and to his delight one of his close colleagues was Flight Lieutenant Johnny Wells, the officer who had befriended him when an LAC in Palestine. Two months after his arrival, Dave and Wells took part in a breathtaking air battle that caught the attention of the public when it was announced in the national press. Rather than attempting to describe the action myself, let the original recommendation for an award, lodged in Public Record Office document AIR 2/8976, tell the story... [See D.F.C. Recommendation above].

Both the Section Commander and the A.O.C. in a Fighter Command had no hesitation in fully endorsing the recommendation for an immediate award of a Distinguished Flying Cross.

When you realise that this was Dave’s first engagement with enemy aircraft, one can begin to appreciate just how brilliant this action was. Certainly, it brought forth two congratulatory signals from higher authority. Sir Archibald Sinclair, the Under Secretary of State for Air, signalled from the Air Ministry on 2 June “So 609 Sqn Has Done It Again. Congratulations On Your Brilliant Exploit”. From Air Marshal Leigh-Mallory, the Commander-in-Chief of Fighter Command, came, “Heartiest Congratulations On Your Very Successful Battle Yesterday. Another Brilliant Piece Of Work By 609 Sqn”....

Dave had no time to bask in the glory of the press publicity with his squadron colleagues for the very next day he was posted to 137 Squadron as a Flight Commander, but this time flying Hurricanes.

Now relatively experienced as a fighter pilot, he had the acting rank of Flight Lieutenant and his earlier clash with authority on flying discipline had been forgiven. He never really settled with his new squadron and, on December 8, 1943, to his delight was reposted to his beloved 609 Squadron and Typhoons as a Flight Commander. Johnny Wells was now a Squadron Leader and commanding the squadron: he had pulled the necessary strings and 609 Squadron was equally delighted in having “their Dave” back.

When one reads the operations record books of the Typhoon squadrons for the next six months, one is struck by the astonishing heavy casualty rate and it seems amazing that any of those gallant pilots survived. Day after day, and sometimes twice a day, Dave led his flight in low level attacks across the Channel. On one such sortie in June 1944, led by Johnny Wells, Dave scored his fourth victory in the air. On a sweep of enemy airfields, hoping to catch the enemy taking off or landing, they did just that. The squadron spotted a number of Dornier 217’s and Dave, ignoring the airfield defensive flak, chased one across the airfield and sent it crashing inside the circuit. His colleagues got a further three that day. Excitedly, in high spirits, he telephoned his wife that evening to tell her that he’d been credited with another victory. “How nice, dear”, she responded and, equally elated, added, “And baby’s got another tooth”. Wives bring you down to earth!

Now 609 Squadron was operating from Manston, where with 198 Squadron it prepared itself for the support of the invasion of the continent. The Typhoon with its 20mm cannon was a formidable fighter but the squadron’s role was changing and the aircraft were fitted with rocket rails in order to carry eight rocket projectiles (RPs.). As D-Day approached, the two squadrons started dive attack operations using RPs on softening-up operations. Targets were radar stations, railway yards, trains etc. Flak on these raids was heavy and many aircraft and pilots were lost. There were few sorties when all aircraft came back unscathed and, on one occasion, Dave had to nurse his aircraft back to base when a ricochet from a piece of his own RPs lodged in the engine, exemplifying well the hazards of this form of attack. The destruction of the radar stations played an invaluable part in the eventual success of Operation Overlord.

With D-Day only four days away, Squadron Leader J. Nibblett, the CO of 198 Squadron, was killed on an attack on the Caude Cote, Dieppe, radar site. Next day, Dave was immediately promoted and appointed to succeed him. Standing back, he realised that he had come a long way from being a corporal clerk when war broke out and there was none prouder than Johnny Wells that his protégé had not only survived but was now on equal terms. The two of them were commanding two of the premier ground attack squadrons of Fighter Command.

Dave didn’t have to prove himself with his new squadron; they knew each other well and had flown together on operations. D-Day June 6, 1944 arrived and that day Dave twice led his squadron across the Channel on low level attacks to assist in the advance into Europe. The first of these was a very successful mission on the HQ of the German 84th Corps in a chateau near St. Lo, which was totally destroyed by rocket salvoes. The heavy death toll continued and it was not long before Dave’s luck - because luck did play its part - ran out. Surprisingly it is in the operations record book of 609 Squadron, and not that of 198 Squadron, that one finds the detail of Dave’s last fight. The ORB actually calls him “our Dave”, such was the affection they held for their former comrade. It is possibly this fact that confused Norman Franks, for in his book Typhoon Attack he erroneously records Dave as being CO of 609 Squadron. The two squadrons were operating together in attacking gun positions, road transport and railways in support of the United States forces in the Cherbourg area where Dave’s aircraft suffered serious damage from ground flash. He tried to coax it to safety but to no avail and, at 200 feet, Dave bailed out, but he was too low and his parachute was only partially open when he hit the ground. Initially, he was posted as missing but his colleagues from both squadrons, who witnessed the incident, knew better. Squadron Leader I. J. Davies, D.F.C. had been in command a mere 19 days when he was killed that summer day of June 22, 1944. He is buried in the British Military Cemetery, Bayeaux along with many other Typhoon pilots.

Dave’s widow and young son were presented with his D.F.C. at Buckingham Palace on December 18, 1945. This award, together with his General Service medal 1918-62 and World War Two campaign medals are in my collection....

Hopefully, this narrative of Dave’s humble start to a career, his advancement in rank and profession, and his undoubted gallantry has convinced the doubters that there is romance in the stories behind the medals of the twentieth century.’

Sold with MOD Letter confirming that both of Davies’ Log Books were destroyed after the war, copied research, including an image of Orde’s sketch, and correspondence between the collector and Flight Lieutenant Denis Sweeting D.F.C. who flew as No. 2 to Davies on his final sortie.