The rare Second War D.C.M. group of five awarded to Corporal L. W. Goddard, 34th (The...

The rare Second War D.C.M. group of five awarded to Corporal L. W. Goddard, 34th (The Queen’s Own Royal West Kent) Anti-Aircraft Battalion, Royal Engineers, decorated for his gallant defence of the Thames paddle steamer H.M.S. Crested Eagle at Dunkirk in May 1940 Distinguished Conduct Medal, G.VI.R. (2039296 Bmbr. L. W. Goddard, R.A.); 1939-45 Star; Atlantic Star; Defence and War Medals 1939-45, mounted as worn, nearly extremely fine (5) £14,000-£18,000 --- Importation Duty This lot is subject to importation duty of 5% on the hammer price unless exported outside the UK --- --- Abbott & Tamplin state in British Gallantry Awards that two - possibly more - D.C.Ms were awarded for services at sea during the Second World War. D.C.M. London Gazette 26 September 1940: ‘For gallant and distinguished services.’ The original recommendation states: ‘Corporal Goddard was in charge of a detachment of his unit on board H.M.S. Crested Eagle and showed exceptional initiative and coolness under fire during several aircraft attacks which finally resulted in the destruction of the ship. Corporal Goddard manned the Lewis guns after the original gunner had been wounded and the ship was on fire and assisted to keep off further attacks. He showed great courage and devotion to duty in attempting to help evacuate wounded from below decks and when the ship was on fire and in the process of being abandoned.’ Lewis Walter Goddard was a pre-war Territorial who was serving in the 34th (Queen’s Own Royal West Kent) Anti-Aircraft Battalion, R.E., at the time of the above deeds. However, when the award was gazetted, he had transferred to the Royal Artillery. Of an estimated 600 troops embarked in Crested Eagle, some 300 are believed to have perished. Her fate is described in Walter Lord’s The Miracle of Dunkirk: ‘The men turned back again, most of them boarding the steamer Crested Eagle, which lay just astern of the unlucky Fenella. A big wooden paddle-steamer, the Crested Eagle was a familiar sight to many of the troops. In happier days she had taken them on excursions up and down the Thames. Going aboard her was almost like going home. By 6 p.m. her decks were packed with 600 men, including a number of bedraggled survivors from the Grenade and Fenella. Commander Clouston gave the signal to get going, and Crested Eagle’s big paddle wheels began churning the sea. Swinging clear of the mole, her skipper Lieutenant B. R. Booth headed east along the coast, planning to go home via Route Y. It didn’t take long for the Luftwaffe to find her. Standing by one of the paddle boxes, Chief Stoker Brown, safely off the Grenade, once again her the familiar screech of a Stuka’s bombs. It landed with a crash in the main saloon, sending tables, chairs and bodies flying. A deck below, Gunner Chandler, just off the Fenella, was watching the engines when the explosion came. It blew him along the deck until he hit the end bulkhead. On the bridge, Lieutenant Booth noted that the paddles were still working, so he tried to hold his course. Maybe they could get out of this yet. No such luck. The whole after end of the vessel was burning, and the engineer Lieutenant Jones came on the bridge to report that he couldn’t keep the paddles going much longer. Booth decided to beach the ship, and turned toward shore opposite the big sanitarium at Zuydcoote, just short of Bray Dunes. On the beach the troops momentarily forgot their own troubles as they watched this blazing torch of a boat drive hard aground. “Get off, mate, while you can,” a seaman advised Gunner Chandler as he stood uncertainly by a rail. Chandler decided it was good advice; he took off his shoes and jumped. There were other ships around, but none near, so he swam to the beach. It was easy; he had a life jacket and even managed to tow a non-swimmer along. Once ashore he discovered for the first time how badly burned he was. In the excitement he hadn’t noticed that the skin was hanging in shreds from both of his hands … ’ In Dunkirk - Storms of War, David Thomas refers to ships trying to close the Crested Eagle to take off survivors, but they were driven back by the tremendous heat: ‘As the ship settled … the survivors scrambled over the side and fell into the sea among the bodies and floating debris and began to fight their way to the beach they had only just left … Behind them, Crested Eagle was already a red-hot hulk, and bodies, charred or covered in oil, floated round her in the moving tide, watched by the bedraggled and exhausted survivors huddled on the beach with the burned, scalded and wounded they dragged ashore.’ The hulk of the Crested Eagle is still visible at low tide on Zuydcoote beach to this day. Sold with several contemporary picture postcards of the Crested Eagle, a copy of the book Down the River to the Sea, and a quantity of copied research.