大象传媒

In May 1940, at the time of Dunkirk, my father, Eric Cattley,aged 32 at that time, was serving as a junior officer(later he achieved the rank of Major)in the 2nd Battallion of the Hampshire Regiment. His Battallion had been attached to the First Guards Brigade, specifically in order to fight a rear guard action for the British Expeditionary Force, in order to cover the retreat of the British Troops from France.

After a very long, difficult and traumatic march from the direction of Belgium, his Unit eventually reached Dunkirk, only to find that the Royal Navy had already finished evacuating the British troops, and they were all absolutely dismayed as they stood, exhausted, watching the last ship sail off back to England without them.

In due course, a party of soldiers from his Unit found an old Thames sailing barge, called either the Lark or the Skylark, lying abandoned on the beach. It had been sent over to Dunkirk with cans of drinking water for the troops who had been waiting to be picked up.

Somehow or other they managed to refloat this barge, and with very little idea about how to sail it, they set off home across the Channel. Inevitably, the barge sprang a leak, so my father immediately ordered the stoutest man on board, (who was a Cook,) to plug the leak by sitting on the hole in the vessel's hull.

They were dive-bombed by enemy aircraft in mid-channel, and subsequently had to be rescued,from their rapidly sinking barge by a Royal Naval vessel. Apparently their rescue took place rather against their will, as soldiers were by this time determined to try to make a successful Channel crossing unaided.

My father and his men eventually landed safely at Dover on the morning of June 2nd.

My mother, who is now aged 94, has a vivid memory of receiving a telegram (which she has kept) starting with the words 'Good News...' telling her that my father was alive and well and safely back in England. At this time, she was heavily pregnant, and coping with two other daughters then aged 4 and 6yrs. We were living near Basingstoke in Hampshire. I was born on 5th September 1940. Almost immediately after my birth there was an air raid alert, and I was stuffed a into a Mickey Mouse Gas mask, designed to totally envelope the whole baby. I am absolutely sure that this is the cause of my being acutely claustrophobic to this day!

On his return from Dunkirk, my father's Regiment was immediately posted to Eastern Command, defending the East Anglian Coast, and he did not in fact see me until mid October, when I was about six weeks old.

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