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Auction: 11010 - Orders, Decorations, Campaign Medals & Militaria
Lot: 12

A Good Second War 1944 ´Immediate´ North West Europe M.C. Group of Five to Captain The Rev. Mark Green, Chaplain to the Forces, Attached 4th/7th Royal Dragoon Guards, Late 24th Lancers, For Gallantry In Evacuating Casualties in a ´Requisitioned´ Honey Tank, During His Regiment´s Attack on Tripsrath, Germany; Later Chaplain to the Far East Land Forces and Bishop of Aston a) Military Cross, G.VI.R., reverse officially dated ´1945´ b) 1939-1945 Star c) France and Germany Star d) War Medal, M.I.D. Oakleaf e) General Service 1918-62, E.II.R., one clasp, Malaya (The Rev. M. Green. M.C. C.F.4. RA.Ch.D....), small area of erasure to unit on last, good very fine, mounted as worn, together with the recipient´s related miniature awards, the GSM a G.VI.R. obverse, and riband bar, all housed in a Spink, London, fitted leather case, and the following book: - GREEN, Rt. Rev. Mark, M.C., Before I Go, Durham 2005. 72 pages, inscribed by the author (5) Estimate £ 3,000-4,000 M.C. London Gazette 22.3.1945 The Reverend Mark Green, B.A. (257733), Chaplain to the Forces, Fourth Class, Royal Army Chaplains´ Department (London, S.W.7) ´In recognition of gallant and distinguished services in North West Europe.´ The Recommendation, dated 28.11.1944, states: ´On November 18th this Regiment [4/7th Royal Dragoon Guards] went into the attack on Neiderheide and Tripsrath. On reaching Tripsrath one Squadron became involved in close fighting and had several tanks knocked out and a number of casualties. It was extremely difficult to evacuate the casualties owing to the enemy having command of the road and also on account of heavy artillery fire. Captain the Rev. M. Green on his own initiative went up in a Honey Tank to collect the casualties. He spent some time in doing this and all the time ignored his own safety and walked about giving encouragement to all in that area. He went up again the next day to Rischsden where there were more casualties and again acted as an inspiration to all under very heavy artillery fire. By his gallantry in this action he enabled many casualties to be evacuated which would have taken much longer without his quick leadership. His indefference to danger has earned him high merit and I can personally vouch for the inspiration which he gave during this battle.´ M.I.D. London Gazette 22.3.1945 Rev. M. Green, B.A. (257733), C.F. 4th Cl., Royal Army Chaplains´ Department ´In recognition of gallant and distinguished services in North West Europe.´ The Rt. Rev. Mark Green, M.C. was born in London in March 1917, the son of the Rev. William Green, O.B.E., Chaplain to the Tower of London, and was educated at Rossall School and Lincoln College, Oxford, where he read Theology. At the outbreak of the Second World War he immediately joined up, and was training at Sandhurst preparing to be commissioned into the Oxfordshire and Buckinghamshire Light Infantry when told that he could defer his service in order to complete his degree, theological students having been added to the list of reserved occupations. He convinced himself that he could do most good as a priest, but ´later, when I saw the Dunkirk casualty lists, and the names of some of my fellow cadets who had been killed in action, there was a feeling of self-loathing. By what right had I taken this shortcut to fulfilling my "career" when they had unquestioningly given up theirs?´ (Before I Go, the recipient´s war-time account refers). Arriving at Cuddeston College, Oxford, to prepare for Holy Orders, he was there for only two months before being ordained, appointed to a curacy in Gloucestershire, and posted as Chaplain to the 24th Lancers. In January 1943 he was formally Commissioned into the Royal Army Chaplains´ Department as Chaplain to the Forces 4th Class. Operation Overlord ´Sunday 4th June: Last Thursday we embarked for the invasion of Normandy at Southampton, pushed out into Southampton Water, and have laid at anchor over what has seemed a very long weekend, part of an enormous gathering of ships of all sizes. Today (Trinity Sunday), I went round various ships in a motor boat to take impromptu communion services. Back on board my own ship, an American tank landing ship, the Captain gathered everyone to hear various messages. There was one from the King, others from Generals Eisenhower and Montgomery. The Captain asked me if there was anything from the Church. I had a letter from the Archbishop of Canterbury. This was not exactly a "Cry-God-for-Harry-England-and-St.-George" sort of letter, but I read it out, and it seemed to go down well, especially the bit about helping to restrain the men´s passions and lusts in the hour of victory. The thought of victory, not to mention the passions and lusts which were evidently to come, was quite encouraging to them.´ ´Monday 5th June: The mood is a mixture of excitement, uncertainty, and relief. The 24th Lancers have been training for this invaision for a long time, and however much of an ordeal it may be, there is a desire to get on with it. Now at last there is some definite news. The sea has calmed down this afternoon, and we are to sail for Normandy this evening.´ ´Tuesday 6th June: We left Southampton Water about 18:30 last night. All night the Tank Landing Ship moved slowly. I shared a cabin with a young American naval officer and slept fitfully for a few hours. In the early morning there was no sight of land, but as far as the eye could see there were ships of all shapes and sizes, ploughing along very slowly. Not until midday did we see the coast of Normandy, though we were meant to have landed long before this. About three miles offshore we anchored. Nobody knew what was happening, least of all the American captain of our ship. It seemed incongruous to be having a rather good lunch, but there was nothing else to do. As the evening wore on I realised that we were not going to land that night. For hours we had strained our eyes to see what we could on shore; through binoculars we had seen men and vehicles landing and the beaches full of activity.´ ´Wednesday 7th June: At last (nearly a week since we embarked) we got within a few hundred yards of the beaches. The big moment had come. The ship opened its doors, the tanks drove out into the water, and onto the beach. We went in the direction of the rendezvous, about a mile beyond the village of Le Hamel. It was not until 23:00 that the whole of the regimental assault party was ashore. Our harbouring place for the night was on some high ground looking down over the invasion beaches. Far out to sea were ships of all sizes, with more coming over the horizon. The Luftwaffe was still busy, the air full of red tracer bullets. We spent an uneasy night because of the noise of the air raids, and because our foothold was still far from secure. When you know that the German army, a few miles away, would like to push you into the sea and drown you, and is in fact trying to do so, your sleep is not easy.´ ´Thursday 8th June: During the afternoon the Regiment began to have its first casualties. Stray snipers, perched in trees, were a real menace in these early days. We had quite a number of other casualties, and I found it worrying not to be able to be in all the places where one should have been. I was beginning to learn the difficulties of being padre to armoured units in battle. My flock was widely scattered. My duty was to be where the action was, one way or the other. For my part, I found it slightly surprising that I had this great anxiety to be there.´ ´Friday 9th June: A hellish day. It really was a miracle that we were still in Normandy, and not smashed to bits and driven into the sea. We (the 24th Lancers) had been holding a high position identified as Point 103, a bit of rising ground a few miles from the beaches. The more wooded part was about half a mile square, and it was here that we beat off attacks from the Panzer Lehr, a crack German division which had just driven 90 miles from Chartres to get at us, and also the famous 12th SS Panzer Division, with their fanatically brave boys who counted it an honour to die for their Fuhrer.´ ´Saturday 10th June: Late in the morning I was at the 4th/7th Royal Dragoon Guards Regimental Aid Post on the other side of the hill from ours, when one of their tanks drove up and stopped. The crew tumbled out looking completely shattered. They explained that they had been shot up, and their tank commander, a young subaltern named Geoffrey Mitchell, was dead inside the turret: would I help get him out. I asked the crew to drive the tank to a more secluded spot, and then I got down to the gruesome task. Somehow we got him out, though never before had I seen such a ghastly sight. Later in the day I buried Geoffrey. I had know him during our training in England, and had helped prepare him for Confirmation. As I said the words of the Burial Service I was in tears, feeling physically and emotionally at breaking point.´ ´Sunday 11th June: After nearly a week in action I was reflecting on the tremendous battering we were all taking, not only physically but emotionally. If it had been only lack of sleep, lack of proper food, constant physical effort, it would have been bad enough. But the shock of seeing friends killed or terribly injured, and the inevitable fear that this would soon be one´s own fate, put a strain of resources on the mind and the spirit that soon became overwhelming. Perhaps it is natural and even right that the chaplain in battle should have been subjected to this as much as, or even more than, his combatant friends, but for them the strain could reach terrible proportions. Weak people are defeated and broken and give up. The brave also are defeated and broken and give up- and then go on.´ (Recipient´s War-time diary, published in Before I Go refers). Green continued serving as Padre to the 24th Lancers for the next six weeks, acting as Priest, servant, friend, and general go-between: ´It is clear in these Normandy battles that if the Chaplain is not prepared to do the most menial tasks he had better go home. Very few of the things I have found myself doing in the past month come into any recognisable category of priestly tasks. Scraping bodies out of tanks, driving ambulances, making tea for the wounded or the exhausted, getting hold of things like soap, toothpaste, or writing paper for soldiers short of these things, helping to dig graves, or acting as a messenger-boy- it is no use saying "I wasn´t ordained for this." Faced with the realities of life and death, there are no neat demarcation lines separating the spiritual from the material.´ (ibid). All the time, he continued diligently performing his clerical duties, although the size of his congregations had to be kept down to a reasonable limit: ´These services had to be in the open air- where else was there?- and the Colonel, though extremely sympathetic and helpful to me in every possible way, was not too keen on having a sizeable chunk of his regiment wiped out by aircraft attack whilst worshipping God! The answer, of course, was a lot of services for small groups of people. Everything had to be a bit ad hoc: using for an alter an ammunition box, a packing case, the tailboard of a lorry, or the bonnet of a jeep. Some time ago I took an embroidered alter cloth from a bombed-out church, meaning to return it after use. Now I don´t know if I will ever find the church again- better go easy on harsh sermons about the sins of looting!´ (ibid). Often finding it impossible to pray in the lulls between actions, Green carried with him a copy of Thomas a Kempis´ Imitation of Christ, pondering instead the characteristics which soldiers under fire shared with the suffering Christ. At the end of July the 24th Lancers were disbanded, owing in part to the high numbers of casualties which they had suffered, and Green transferred as Chaplain to the 4th/7th Royal Dragoon Guards for the rest of the War, his conduct whilst with the 24th Lancers being rewarded with a Mention in Despatches. On the 18th November 1944 ´A´ Squadron, 4th/7th Royal Dragoon Guards lost four of its five Sherman tanks during the battle of Tripsrath in Germany- it was on this occasion that Green, on his own initiative went up in a Honey Tank to collect the casualties, all the time ignoring his own safety and walking about giving encouragement to all in the area. For his gallantry in collecting casualties under fire he was awarded an Immediate Military Cross. After the War he stayed on in Germany for 18 months, before returning to parish life in England. In 1953 he rejoined the Army as Chaplain to the Royal Norfolks in Hong Kong, and later served as Warden of the Army School of Religious Instruction in Singapore. He finally retired from the Army in 1956, and subsequently served as a Rector of Cottingham, and Vicar of Bishopthorpe, both in the Diocese of York, as well as Chaplain to Donald Coggan, the then Archbishop of York. On Ascension Day (11th May) 1972, he was consecrated Suffragan Bishop of Aston, and for the next ten years he played a major role in recruiting members of the Services into the ordained ministry, as well as setting up the Aston Training Scheme, which allowed those without university qualifications to train for the priesthood. His low-key pastrol ministry proved popular amongst the Church-goers in Birmingham, and he confirmed many hundreds of people, as well as chairing an exorcism study group to keep an eye on the increasing numbers of witches´ covens in the Midlands. On retiring in 1982, Bishop Green moved to Sussex, and died at home on the 2nd August 2009.

Sold for
£5,500