The Man Behind the Medals: Brigadier R.P. Gottwaltz MC (late South Wales Borderers)

Philip Gottwaltz died on 3rd April 1980. Even though I did not become Assistant Regimental Secretary Royal Regiment of Wales (Brecon) and Curator of the South Wales Borderers Museum until September 1980, I was asked to attend Philip’s funeral in a small West Midland’s village near Halesowen.

Philip Gottwaltz was commissioned into The South Wales Borderers on 22nd September 1914 and joined the 7th Battalion in France. In October 1915 the 7th and 8th Battalions SWB along with the 1st and 11th Battalions The Welch Regiment moved to Salonica to confront the Bulgarian army encamped on high ground above Lake Doiran. There they stayed for the next three years doing little more than patrolling and building up their strength for the last great battle of World War One. In September 1918 7/SWB and 11/WELCH were given orders to capture Grand Couronne, the dominant feature which the enemy occupied to counter any allied advance into Bulgaria. The attack started just before midnight on the 17th September 1918 and by 08.00 hrs on the 19th the two battalions had ceased to exist as fighting units. Philip Gottwaltz fought bravely in the action and was awarded the Military Cross. In October 1918 he was given command of the 9th East Lancashire Regiment but was invalided home soon afterwards.
On the outbreak of World War Two, Philip was commanding the 2nd Battalion SWB and took them through the Norway Campaign. It was a disastrous muddle from the very beginning and the Allied High Command was subsequently criticised for inadequate planning. There was virtually no air cover and artillery support was limited to a single battery of 25-pounders. One night, Philip heard movement outside his hut and, on investigation, he ran across a patrol of six German ski-troops. They were sent packing when a sentry opened fire on them. On another occasion, a few days later, a Royal Navy destroyer came to the assistance of ‘D’ Company 2/SWB when they were in close combat with a much stronger German force. “Are all your patrols in?’ signalled the destroyer. “Affirmative,” signalled the company commander, and then all hell was let loose. The Jack-tars opened up a few yards from the shore and put-paid to the enemy. Colonel Philip and his men considered themselves fortunate to have a Navy man-o’-war in close support.
There was one other time that the Senior Service aided 2/SWB and that was when the battalion was ordered to proceed south of Ankenes to a place called Bodo to relieve a company of Scots Guards. They embarked aboard HMS Effingham for the 100 mile trip but after 15 hours the ship hit an uncharted rock and began to sink. There was no panic and soldiers of 2/SWB formed up on deck waiting to be rescued. A destroyer pulled alongside and soldiers were trans-shipped. Colonel Philip, following tradition, was the last Army member to leave the stricken ship that was eventually destroyed by gunfire
On the 29th May 1940, Colonel Philip was told that 2/SWB would be responsible for covering the evacuation of British land forces from that part of Norway. For three days 2/SWB held off the enemy and by the 5th June, having completed their task, 2/SWB embarked at Borkenes and made their way to a cruise-liner lying off-shore. Five days later, they landed at Greenock. In 1945 the French government created Brigadier Philip Gottwaltz a Chevalier de Legion d’Honneur and awarded him the Croix de Guerre with Palmes.
After the war, Philip succeeded Colonel Gwynne Thomas as Secretary of the SWB Regimental Association until 1960 when Major Geo Egerton took over as the first (and only) Regimental Secretary SWB. Thereafter, nothing much was heard of Philip Gottwaltz until he died in 1980 and his son made contact with RHQ RRW.

My mind may be a little hazy about Philip’s funeral in April 1980 (after all it was 27 years ago), but a few salient facts are imprinted on my memory.
Philip’s son and daughter–in-law (disguised as John and Jane respectively for the purpose of this story) lived in a small house sufficient for their needs but requiring some arrangement of furniture to accommodate an 89 year old retired brigadier, who happened to be John’s father. Quite by accident, the old man was discovered by his son living in an old people’s home only a stone’s throw away.
John told me about what he remembered of his father: “I must have been about five years of age when I saw him for the first time. He and my mother lived apart but I can clearly remember her taking me to meet him. It was a lovely day and we had a picnic on the Malvern Hills. Afterwards, I played by myself while my mother and father talked for a long time. I don’t know what they talked about but, looking back on it now, I suppose they were discussing a divorce. When, at last, they got up, he patted me on my head and gave me 2/6d (two shillings and sixpence – 12p in today’s money) and I didn’t see him again until 1979 when I discovered he was living in an old people’s home not far from where we live now. I told Jane about it and we both went around to see him. We found him in good health, if somewhat shaky on his legs, which was to be expected for a man of his age.
When we returned home, I asked Jane how she felt about him living with us. We have no children of our own and there was a spare bedroom - so, it was agreed and he moved in a few days later. I did National Service with the Royal Artillery and Jane spent a few years in the Women’s Royal Army Corps but neither of us could be described as ‘military’ people. My father was quite the opposite and everything from his immaculate suit and regimental tie to his highly polished shoes and erect carriage spelt ‘ARMY’. He always took us by surprise when he came downstairs in the morning. He would suddenly appear and rasp out a greeting as if he was on the barrack square. Both Jane and I would leap to our feet, stand stiffly to attention and bark a reply. Afterwards, we would laugh about the effect he had on us.
His daily routine would always involve a trip to the off-licence where he established a good rapport with the manager. He is going to bemoan the passing of my father more than anyone else as he was a very good customer,” said John.

I asked John what he did for a living. “I move things around,” he said. “What sort of things.” I asked. “Anything from furniture to farm produce,`’ he replied. “I’ve got a van that I park around the back and, providing it’s not too dirty, I’ll shift anything.”
I asked him how he got on with his father after being so long apart: “Very well,” he answered, “We discovered a closeness that neither of us knew existed. Jane and I are going to miss him now that he’s gone.”

Before I left for home in Crickhowell, John told me that he would like to present his father’s medals to the SWB Museum in Brecon. I still had another five months to go before I was appointed Curator, but I gladly accepted them and delivered them to Major Geo Egerton the following day.

After 13 years as Curator of the SWB Museum and an on-going interest to my dying day, I suppose I have more knowledge than most about the ‘Men Behind The Medals’. Those of Brigadier Philip Gottwaltz were my first acquisition and they retain a special place in my affection.