The unique, important, and well-documented Second War St. Nazaire raid and Colditz...

‘He was handsome, fair-haired, with piercing blue eyes and Nelsonian nose. He walked as if he were permanently on the deck of a ship. He was a daredevil, and his main aim appeared to be to force his way into the German area of the camp and then hack his way out with a metaphorical cutlass.’
Major P. R. “Pat” Reid, M.B.E., M.C., on his fellow escaper “Billie” Stephens in The Colditz Story.

‘By midday we had spread the search net to the 20-mile limit with the word Hasenjagd. That means “Hare Hunt”, but it was often taken to indicate “Wild Goose Chase” ... How could anyone get past the sentry who was parading back and forth in the middle of the German yard? How could any prisoner get out of the windows on the prisoners’ side of that yard in the full glare of the searchlights without the sentry seeing him?’
Reinhold Eggers, German Security Officer, Colditz.


The unique, important, and well-documented Second War St. Nazaire raid and Colditz “home-run” D.S.C. and Bar group of seven awarded to Commander W. L. “Billie” Stephens, Royal Naval Volunteer Reserve: having commanded the M.Ls employed in Operation Chariot, and been taken prisoner after his own launch was set on fire and abandoned under point-blank fire - but not before raising his hip-flask atop the burning wreckage for a final “quick one” prior to entering the icy water - he made a successful bid for freedom with “Pat” Reid and two others from from Colditz Castle in October 1942, a breakout enacted under the cover of the P.O.W’s orchestra conducted by Douglas Bader and culminating with the four men squeezing naked through a narrow vent ‘like toothpaste out of a tube!’

Distinguished Service Cross, G.VI.R., with Second Award Bar, the reverse of the Cross officially dated ‘1942’, and the Bar ‘1943’, hallmarks for London ‘1942’, in Garrard, London, case of issue; 1939-45 Star; Atlantic Star; Defence and War Medals 1939-45; Royal Naval Volunteer Officer’s Decoration, G.VI.R., undated, in Royal Mint case of issue; France, Third Republic, Medal of Gratitude, 2nd Class, silver, together with a set of related dress miniature medals, a “France Libre” lapel badge, gilt and enamel, the reverse numbered ‘6259’, the recipient’s gold (9 ct.) cigarette case, by W.N. Ltd., Birmingham hallmarks for 1929, with the raised initials ‘B.S.’ in upper left corner, and original documents including unique Identity Passes forged at Colditz, extremely fine (lot) £40,000-£50,000
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Importation Duty
This lot is subject to importation duty of 5% on the hammer price unless exported outside the UK
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D.S.C. London Gazette 21 May 1942:
‘For great gallantry, daring and skill in the attack on the German naval base at St. Nazaire.’

The original recommendation - submitted by Commander R. E. D. Ryder, V.C., R.N. - states: ‘Lieutenant-Commander Stephens was Senior Officer of the M.Ls taking part in the raid on St. Nazaire and took a leading part in the training, organisation and administration of the 16 M.Ls under him. Although his own craft was sunk before actually reaching his landing place, I consider that by his example and good leadership he set a very high standard for those craft that passed him as a blazing wreck, most gallantly pressing forward the attack.’

D.S.C. Second Award Bar London Gazette 16 March 1943 - as per the recipient’s M.I. 9 debrief.

William Lawson Stephens was born in Holywood, Northern Ireland in August 1911, the scion of a prominent Ulster family, and was educated at Shrewsbury before joining the family firm of shippers and timber merchants. Also a pre-war member of the “Wavy Navy”, in which he was appointed a Midshipman in April 1930, at H.M.S. Caroline, the Belfast base, he had risen to the rank of Lieutenant by the renewal of hostilities in September 1939, when he was posted to Hornet, the Coastal Forces base at Gosport.

St. Nazaire

By the time Combined Operations started to plan its daring raid against the Normandie dry-dock at St. Nazaire, Stephens had transferred to St. Christopher, the Coastal Forces base at Fort William, and it was from here, in early 1942, in the acting rank of Lieutenant-Commander, that he was ordered south to take up appointment as C.O. of M.Ls for the forthcoming enterprise, code named Operation “Chariot”.

On the night in question - 27-28 March 1942 - he was embarked with his crew of 17 men in Motor Launch 192, together with Captain M. C. “Micky” Burn, K.R.R.C., and 14 men of No. 6 Troop, No. 2 Commando. Stephens takes up the story in his unpublished memoir:

‘Then I remember the first shot the enemy fired at us. I think it was a 40mm. In any case it was a tracer, a beautiful bright red colour and as it sailed towards us I couldn’t imagine that if it hit us it was going to harm us. It looked just like the rockets we used to fire on Guy Fawkes’ night in the days before the War. Very shortly afterwards I was disillusioned. Then I remember too, when we were much further up the river and the enemy had already started to fire intermittently at us, still being uncertain whether we were friend or foe, how suddenly we saw a Morse lamp flickering from the M.G.B. ahead of us with Commander Ryder on board. He was sending a message to the shore in German trying to bluff the enemy into thinking that one of their own convoys was approaching. We waited in breathless suspense for the result, the enemy had in the meantime stopped firing at us and most of the searchlights had been extinguished. Every second now was vital to us, we were only about one and a half miles from our objective, or four and a half minutes, if we maintained speed. Then, suddenly, we got our answer: all at once the searchlights came on again and the guns commenced to fire in real earnest. We opened fire too and the ensuing display was quite unbelievable - no fireworks have I ever seen equalled it.

My boat, which was Number 1 of the M.Ls was meanwhile keeping its station on the starboard quarter of the destroyer Campbeltown, and things were getting pretty hot. Campbeltown was hit again and again and anything which missed her astern was passing mighty close to us! No praise can be too high for our gunners; I don’t mean particularly those in my boat, but all our gunners. They were magnificent and continued to fire quickly and with accuracy, and when one was killed or wounded, another stepped in, took his place and continued.

All went well until we were almost abeam of the Old Mole and within 200 yards of our objective. We had been bit a number of times, but were still quite seaworthy, and whilst we had some wounded, they were none of them serious. Then our luck ran out and they got us twice at point-blank range with something very large, probably about 4-inch. The results were sudden and disastrous: both engines and the steering went and the boat was swung hard-a-port by the impact of the shells hitting her. By chance, however, we managed to come more or less alongside the Old Mole allowing a few of the Commandos to climb up the wall and get ashore. My signalman also managed to get ashore, the idea being that we should put a line across to him and make fast. Unfortunately he was killed before he could do this and the boat, having hit the wall of the Mole very hard, immediately rebounded some 15 feet and we were left with neither engines nor steering and all the while being subjected to point-blank fire from a 20mm. gun ashore. The damage was frightful, there was virtually no engine room left and some incendia...