A well-documented and important Second World War C.B.E., Great War Royal Naval Division Antwerp 1

A well-documented and important Second World War C.B.E., Great War Royal Naval Division Antwerp 1914 operations D.S.C. group of ten awarded to Air Commodore C. O. F. Modin, Royal Air Force, late Royal Naval Volunteer Reserve, Royal Marines and Royal Flying Corps, who was decorated for being among a handful of men to evade internment in Holland, witnessed further action with the R.N.D. in Gallipoli and the Dardanelles, and afterwards qualified as a pilot in the R.F.C.: an Air Commodore in Singapore by 1941, he was taken P.O.W. after an A.S.R. Launch was sunk by enemy aircraft - and his subsequent experiences as a prisoner, including witness statements of war crimes, are fully described in the extensive report he delivered on his liberation The Most Excellent Order of the British Empire, C.B.E. (Military) Commander’s 2nd type neck badge, silver-gilt and enamel, in its Garrard & Co. case of issue; Distinguished Service Cross, G.V.R., hallmarks for London 1914; 1914 Star, with slide-on clasp (Sub. Lieut. C. O. F. Modin, R.N.V.R., Benbow Bttn. R.N.D.); British War and Victory Medals, M.I.D. oak leaf (Capt. C. O. F. Modin, R.M.); 1939-45 Star; Pacific Star; Defence and War Medals 1939-45, with M.I.D. oak leaf; Jubilee 1935; Coronation 1937, the Great War awards a little polished, otherwise generally very fine or better (10) £6000-8000 C.B.E. London Gazette 1 January 1941. D.S.C. London Gazette 1 January 1915. Charles Oscar Frithriof Modin was born in January 1889 and educated at Sevenoaks Grammar School and in France. A pre-war member of the London Division, R.N.V.R., who qualified as a Swedish interpreter in 1909, he was mobilised as a Sub. Lieutenant in August 1914 and, shortly afterwards, embarked for Dunkirk, and thence by rail to Fort No. 4 near Antwerp, with Benbow Battalion, Royal Naval Division. And it was in this capacity that he won his D.S.C., for withdrawing with a party of his men along the Dutch frontier and avoiding internment. An old typescript account of his journey to freedom, written by a fellow officer, is included, and from which the following extracts have been taken: ‘I shall never forget my nights at Fort 4. We didn’t know then what power was in front of us. But we did get our first knowledge of modern artillery as the German shells whizzed into us and over us. Mostly over us in Antwerp. What a sight behind us! There appeared to be a vast mileage of flames ... It was a bad night, especially when we found, at about 2 in the morning, that we had been left behind. The Division had retired, in accordance with plans, and the order hadn’t reached ‘B’ Company in Fort 4. Well, well - it was a bit of a blow, but somebody always fits into these starts. In this case it was M. [Modin]. What a small hero he was! And how some of us tried to fit in with him. That assembly in the dark. “Get’em together boys, we’ve got to get out of this somehow.” No maps, no knowledge. What a war! However, we did manage to pack ourselves together, and marched out in decent order from Fort 4. We left behind one Belgian officer of artillery (I salute that officer), who was the sole occupant. All his men had left him. And so back to Antwerp, a blaze of fire now in front of us. It was a dreadful march, with shells falling round us and whizzing over us all the time ... And so on, on. We fell in with a wretched little Belgian cyclist (we thought he was a spy) and collared him good and hearty. Anyhow, he didn’t want to guide us at all, but S. and I, with bayonets very near his left and right kidney, showed him a far better way. And so on to Antwerp ... The city was deserted. The oil tanks at Hoboken a mass of flames. The only bridge over the Sheldt (a pontoon one) sunk by Belgian gunfire. So there again, we were stuck again. Or were we? Good heavens, no! Why M., who didn’t know two words of French, got busy again and lo and behold, “Penny Steamers” and tugs appeared to take us to Fort St. Marie. It was here that I got my first wound in the War, a bit of shell that sliced my shin ... And so to Fort Marie we went, where the authorities were opening the sluices to flood the country. We disembarked, and then had to march, or walk, by which we arrived on the Belgo-Dutch frontier, where a lot of our troops were going into Holland, under orders, for internment. That was dreadful to see our fellows handing over their rifles, ammunition and equipment and so not to be lost for who knows how long? It wasn’t at all a nice idea after what we had struggled through, and didn’t appeal to M. or S., or myself at all, so we cheerfully revolted. This was rather disastrous, temporarily, because M. was promptly put under arrest for refusing to be interned ... A contretemps, this, which was soon overcome by M. and escort, silently and stealthily deserting the Dutch frontier, with about 25 other stouthearts, for pastures new. And so we met at the back of the village, in a Belgian soldiers’ billet, and eat and drank horse soup with those good lads. What a meal! It was the first, excepting raw sugar-beet, we had eaten for about four days ... But we had no maps and the idea was to get to a port - we had a very big palaver. We must keep together (this 30). We must keep near the Dutch frontier (We would not go over the Dutch frontier). And so on pave roads littered with refugees, Belgian soldiers, and every kind of “odd and end” you can imagine, we got through St. Gillaes, Waesse, Stekene, Moerbeke, a host of small villages, and then to Salzaete, where we got a train to Ostend. I believe it was the last train through, but I’ve never had this confirmed. And thus the small 30 arrived at Ostend to be welcomed by all the Staff there, and fed ... ‘ Having received his resultant D.S.C. at a Buckingham Palace investiture on 13 January 1915, Modin transferred to the Royal Marines and witnessed further active service with the R.N.D. in Gallipoli and the Dardanelles, but in 1916 he transferred to the Royal Flying Corps, qualifying for his Aviator’s Certificate in January 1917. Ending the War as a Captain in the Royal Air Force, he was posted to Felixstowe in 1920, at which station he was lucky to survive a flying accident that April, Seaplane No. 4044 crashing nose first into the sea about a mile from the beach - four members of crew were killed, including the well-known aviator Squadron Leader E. R. Moon, but Modin and a fellow officer survived with minor injuries. Advanced to Flight Lieutenant in November 1923, he went on to serve in aircraft carriers on attachment to the Fleet Air Arm. Steady promotion followed, too, and he was appointed a Group Captain in 1935, his early wartime appointments including service as Station C.O. of R.A.F. Feltwell, Norfolk, scene of at least two royal visits during his period of command, one by H.M. the King and another by H.R.H. the Duchess of Gloucester. Further appointments in Egypt, Malta and Iraq having followed, he was appointed C.B.E. and advanced to Air Commodore in March 1941, shortly before his arrival at H.Q. Singapore as Air Officer Administration. And it was here, after attempting to escape the Japanese in an R.A.F. launch, that he was taken P.O.W. on 15 February 1942, an incident neatly summarised by Christopher Shores and Brian Cull in Bloody Shambles (Volume II - the Defence of Sumatra to the Fall of Burma): During the afternoon of the 15th, one of the Air-Sea-Rescue launches (H.S.L. 105) which had departed Singapore with A.H.Q. Staff on board, including Air Commodore C. O. F. Modin, Group Captain E. B. Rice (former A.O.C. 224 Group), Wing Commander R. A. Chignell (former O.C. Kallang) and Squadron Leaders Wilf Clouston and Frank Howell, former commanders of 488 and 243 Squadrons respectively, was attacked seven times in the Banka Strait. A direct bomb hit after about 20 minutes severely damaged the craft, a splinter kill