Eighty years ago on Friday, the governor of this beleaguered island received a brief message from the Secretary of State for the Colonies: “I have it in command from the King to convey to you the following message.”

It read: “To honour her brave people I award the George Cross to the island fortress of Malta to bear witness to a heroism and devotion to duty that will long be famous in history” – George R.I.

The award was the only one that was not featured in the London Gazette as it was made by the monarch in a holograph letter dated April 15, 1942 and addressed to Sir William Dobbie.

The Times of Malta masthead of April 18, 1942. Photo: Times of Malta

News of this development spread fast among the suffering population and garrison. By Saturday, April 18, the Times of Malta started carrying an image of the George Cross on its masthead and, though this unique award would not offer any relief from the incessant aerial onslaught of the German Luftwaffe and the Italian Regia Aeronautica and from the creeping threat of starvation, it provided a morale boost to many to know that their ordeal was appreciated by the British monarch and the world at large. In fact, it could not have come at a better time.

By April 1942, Malta had been enduring almost daily bombing since June 11, 1940, alternating between periods when the Regia Aeronautica was the main aggressor and others when the Nazis took over with the intention to “wipe Malta off the map”, as Field Marshal Kesselring, the German commander in the Mediterranean, had been instructed to do by Hitler way back in December 1941.

Since then, the scale of air raids had escalated month after month. In January, there were 263 air raid alerts with 669 tons of bombs dropped on the island. By the end of February, the tonnage of bombs rose to 1,020 tons. Another 2,028 tons of bombs were dropped in March in the course of 276 alerts.

Old Bakery Street, Valletta, after an April 1942 air raid. Photo: Times of Malta

But April was to end with a staggering 6,117 tons of bombs, sowing destruction on churches, auberges, hospitals, theatres, cinemas and thousands of dwellings, leading to hundreds of casualties and homeless among the civilian population.

The garrison was at the end of its tether. The harbours and the Naval Dockyard were being subjected to relentless bombardment, which pulverised shore facilities and equipment and sank a number of submarines, destroyers and other seacraft that had the misfortune of being caught in the harbours while undergoing repairs or awaiting the next convoy out of Malta.

The three main airfields of Luqa, Ta’ Qali and Ħal Far had been turned into a lunar landscape. Work parties from the British and Maltese infantry regiments stationed on the island were detailed to make emergency repairs to the cratered runways in between air raids, only to have to do it all over again after the next raid.

The Auberge de France site completely demolished. Photo: National War Museum

The anti-aircraft gun positions manned by the Royal Artillery and the Royal Malta Artillery were being specifically targeted and, despite having the amount of rounds they could fire each day strictly rationed, were on certain days the only defence the island could put up against the attacking enemy hordes.

The old Hurricanes and the trickle of Spitfires that had been ferried to Malta on aircraft carriers during March were grounded during a number of raids either because the airstrips themselves were heavily damaged or because the fighters were unserviceable due to damage suffered on the ground by carpet bombing or in dog fights against impossible odds where they would often be outnumbered 10 to one.

St Anne’s Street, Floriana, in ruins. Photo: National War Museum. Photo: National War Museum

To further aggravate the situation, the tragic loss of the March convoy, when the four merchant ships were sunk, three of them in Malta’s harbours, before the bulk of their cargoes could be unloaded, began to present the garrison and the Maltese with the growing spectre of starvation. Food rationing was tightened and hunger on a daily basis loomed ever larger.

May it [the George Cross] serve as a reminder to the present generation of the suffering and steadfastness of our forebears

The night raids had picked up and most of the civilian population had to spend entire nights in crowded, damp and unhygienic public shelters, resulting in disturbed sleep followed by exhaustion among the males, who had to set out to work early in the morning, and distress among housewives faced with eking out a meagre nourishment for their hungry offspring. No wonder that infective diseases were gaining ground. This, then, was the grim situation which the authorities and the people of the most bombed part of the British Empire had to face on April 15.

Bomb debris blocking St John’s Street, Valletta. Photo: Imperial War Museum

When addressing the British Houses of Parliament in his speech from the throne on November 10, 1942, the king said: “I have followed with sympathy and admiration, which I know is shared by my peoples throughout the Commonwealth, the magnificent fortitude shown by the island of Malta in resisting the strongest attacks which the enemy could bring to bear upon it. I was happy to award the George Cross to this gallant island, which by its long continued bravery and resistance has played so noble a part in the battles of the Middle East.”

The king was to further express his admiration for the island when, at his insistence, he embarked on HMS Aurora in June 1943 from North Africa and braved the still hazardous waters of the Mediterranean to be able to tour the blitzed four quarters of Malta on a one-day visit to the general acclamation of the Maltese, who displayed their appreciation of his visit by thronging all the routes along the king’s arcade.

Malta’s George Cross medal at the National War Museum. Photo: Chris Sant Fournier

Eighty years have passed since the historic day of the king’s spontaneous gesture to express his solidarity with the people of Malta during the hardest period of their ordeal. A lot of water has passed under the bridges since then. At times, sceptics have berated the award of the George Cross, quipping that one cannot eat medals and that the award did little to alleviate the hardship the people endured during World War II.

Fortunately, that is not the stance taken by the majority of the Maltese and their leaders in the House of Representatives.

On December 28, 1943, a royal warrant was issued, directing that the College of Arms in London enter in its records the assigning of the armorial bearings, including a representation of the George Cross “to be borne for the island of Malta and its dependencies upon seals, shields, banners and otherwise according to the Laws of Arms”.

Kirkop church, one of the churches targeted in April 1942. Photo: National War Museum

A copy of this warrant and the representation of the George Cross was enrolled by public deed dated February 7, 1947, signed by Governor Francis Campbell Ross Douglas and Chief Justice Sir George Borg.

Ever since, the George Cross emblem, edged in red, has fluttered in the canton of the white stripe at the hoist of the Maltese flag and its presence there is embodied in Article 3 of the Constitution of Malta. It also appears on the nation’s armorial bearings.

May it serve as a reminder to the present generation of the suffering and steadfastness of our forebears who earned the award way back in April 1942.

Lest we forget.

Judge Emeritus Joseph Galea Debono is the honorary president of the George Cross Island Association (UK & Malta GC branches).