Beschreibung:

A fine Great War group of three awarded to Captain H. M. Robertson, Royal Welch Fusiliers, who was killed by a trench mortar bomb in January 1916: a comrade in arms to Dunn and Graves, he is mentioned in both of their memoirs 1914-15 Star (Lieut., R.W. Fus.); British War and Victory Medals (Capt.), contained in an old fitted Spink, London leather case, extremely fine (3) £600-800 Footnote Helenus Macauley Robertson was the son of Sir Helenus Robertson of Upton Grange, Chester, the chairman of the Mersey Docks and Harbour Board. Educated at Eton from 1895-1900, ‘where his cultivated tastes enabled him to win prizes for English essay and English verse’ - attributes that would no doubt find favour with men like Graves - he went up to New College, Oxford, where he took an honours degree in history. And, ‘like the patriot he was, he identified himself at both centres with the Officers’ Training Corps, and thus was ready when the call to arms came in 1914.’ He was also a successful “oar”. Undoubtedly possessed of a brilliant mind, Robertson was called to the Bar in 1904, where he became a pupil in the chambers of Sir John Simon, K.C., and devoted himself to chiefly Admiralty and Commercial cases - such was his success in court that he won briefs for cases that were tried in the Admiralty Division of the King’s Bench. Robertson also had an interest in politics, ‘leaning to the progressive Conservative side’, and stood - unsuccessfully - as a candidate for the Tyneside division of Northumberland in the general election of 1910. Yet such grand beginnings aside, Robertson ‘was a delightful companion, animated by a keen sense of humour. Snobbishness of any kind he detested. Straight-forward and upright himself, he hated whatever was affected or insincere.’ Yet more attributes that must have placed him in good stead with his coming call to arms. Enrolling in the Inns of Court O.T.C., he obtained a commission in the 3rd Battalion, Royal Welch Fusiliers, with whom he went to France in May 1915. Later he was transferred to the 2nd Battalion, a posting that he shared with Robert Graves who recalled their protracted journey together up to Laventie in Goodbye To All That: ‘At the end of July, Robertson, one of the other Royal Welch officers attached to the Welsh, and myself had orders to proceed to the Laventie sector. We were to report to the Second Battalion of the Royal Welch Fusiliers ... Robertson and I agreed to take our journey as leisurely as possible. Laventie lay only seventeen miles off, but our orders were to ‘proceed by train’; so a company mess-cart took us down to Bethune. We asked the railway officer what trains he had for Laventie. He told us one would be going in a few minutes; we decided to miss it. No other train ran until the next day, so we stopped the night at the Hotel de la France ... The next day Robertson and I caught our train. It took us to a junction, the name of which I forget, where we spent a day botanizing in the fields. No other train arrived until the following day, when we went on to Berguette, a rail-head still a number of miles from Laventie. There a mess-cart was waiting for us in answer to a telegram we had sent. We finally rattled up to battalion headquarters in Laventie High Street, having taken fifty-four hours to come those seventeen miles. We saluted the adjutant smartly, gave our names, and told him we were Third Battalion officers posted to the regiment. He did not shake hands with us, offer us a drink, or say a word of welcome ...’ Worse was to come, as so memorably described by Graves, when they reached the mess, for as Lieutenants of the Militia they were mere “warts” and entitled to no decency whatsoever. Graves bid the gathered throng of officers a “good morning, gentlemen” as they entered the room, but received no reply. And Robertson evidently broke the rules by asking for a whisky - “Sorry sir,” said the mess-waiter, “it’s against orders for young officers.” This struck Graves as quite ri