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Dunkirk 鈥� Prelude

By AC1 Bob Norris 567094 Royal Air Force, Ex Halton Apprentice 30th Entry

First posting No 4 Army Co-Operation Squadron RAF Odiham

1938 鈥� All private cars turfed out of the spare hanger, which was than filled with dozens of vehicles of various categories. Presumably to justify the fact that 4 Sqdn was 鈥渕obile鈥�

1938/39 鈥� Sqdn HECTORS replaced with LYSANDER (joy of joy! 鈥� away with the hand starting handles 鈥� these new kites had electric starters).

1939 鈥� Oops! Somebody declared war on Germany, which proper cocked up our 8 to 4:30 routine, sports afternoons and 鈥渟nogging鈥� runs to Pompey (Portsmouth)

Now comes the mobile bit. A young Army Sub was sent from Aldershot to put some discipline into the RAF rabble and to teach us how to embark by rail in some semblance of order. For 3 or 4 days when he turned up we had to down tools and assemble on the tarmac. He then positioned a number of coach leaders to represent rail compartments. On the first blast of his whistle the leaders took position. The second blast cased 6 鈥渆rks鈥� to form up on the leader. With 400 of us forming up you can imagine that the train would have stretched from Hook station to London. Every time he assembled us thus 鈥� didn鈥檛 we give stick 鈥� whistling 鈥� chi-iking and catcalls? He invented the phrase 鈥淪top mucking about鈥�. Meanwhile our wiley old chiefie had collected 10 bob (ten shillings 鈥� 50p) from each of us to form the kitty for our tea swindle.
Our flight commander 鈥� an army captain 鈥� came up with the famous last words 鈥� 鈥淣ot to worry lads, we鈥檒l be back in a fortnight鈥� This pearl of wisdom was duly passed on to our loved ones of the day.
On the fourth day we were told to have our kit with us along with a few rifles and some bullets that were duly shared out. This time when the whistle blew there appeared dozens of charabancs so all aboard when the whistle man shouted. The route to the station was lined with all the villagers as onlookers 鈥� no cheering, bands playing, people waving 鈥� it could be imagined that it crossed their minds 鈥渨hat are those silly buggers up to now?鈥�

So now 400 of us were crowded on to the platform of Hook station 鈥� a replica of the stations we all had in our model train sets 鈥� complete with a wooden railing stretching along the back. There we were, all done up in our first war webbing and packs, thinking good-oh somewhere to take the weight off. With 400 of us in unison leaning back the entire fence gave way throwing half the squadron down the bank into the car park 鈥� what a sight to see a load of erks down on their backs like a load of tortoises trying to get up.
The dear old station master takes his turn with the whistle. 鈥淭rain coming lads, ready to board鈥�. 鈥淲here we going then?鈥� we replied. 鈥淒on鈥檛 know鈥� he said. Shades of things to come.

Meanwhile a couple of trains loaded with army passed through 鈥� hooting and hollering all the way through. At last our train appeared 鈥� thought to consist of ten carriages 鈥� with three carriages attached. What mathematical formulae were used to squeeze the pride of 4 Sqdn plus kit into three carriages I have never known? A harbour loomed large 鈥� later we realised it must have been Southampton 鈥� still no flags, bands, waving or cheering. Then came the usual 鈥渕ind the gap, pass further down the line please鈥�. Still just a game to us. Marching past two ships filled to the brim with army lads 鈥� more catcalls and a years worth of toilet rolls issued forth. By this time SS 鈥渟omething or other鈥� had three RAF Squadron ground crews and us shovelled aboard so we set sail 鈥� in utter silence 鈥� I can still remember the sound of the Solent rippling past the bows. We were now members of the 1st BEF on our way to war.

After steaming through the night we docked somewhere in France and disembarked thousands onto the dockside and headed for the mobile soup kitchens. I noticed a local bit of culture, etched in the window of a nearby 鈥渉ouse of negotiable pleasure鈥� were signs saying 鈥淓nglish and German Spoken鈥�. An each way bet I suppose. Somebody managed to organise all the men into recognisable formations and once again whistles blew and we were on a train again. It must be France 鈥� wooden seats, 40 hommes, 8 cheval. We spent two days and nights on that train, can鈥檛 remember any mention of food. Must be somewhere near Switzerland we hoped, not likely, we were not more than 30 miles from Paris, already working out how to see the sights in 鈥淕ay Paree鈥�.

Arriving, out of the back of some WW1 French army trucks, at our aerodrome in one piece we found our allies had done us proud. A formidable array of ack-ack guns had been placed around the perimeter fence with a line of fighter aircraft dispersed on the far side. Ho ho! the guns were telegraph poles and the fighters were ply-wood.

The Phoney War.

A fortnight later our bedding ration turned up, goodbye to the wooden floor and huddling together for warmth, Autumn wasn鈥檛 far away. Some of us lucky ones dossed down on a brick floor in a barn with the cattle for heating 鈥� bit of a shock for the 鈥淏rylcreme Boys鈥� plucked out of centrally heated barracks back at Odiham. No other heating as smoke coming from a 鈥渄eserted鈥� village might look suspicious. We didn鈥檛 starve however; the daily food ration was 1 box of camembert cheese, 1 tin of jellied horsemeat and one round (cowpat shaped) loaf. It鈥檚 amazing that I still like camembert. Order of the day 鈥� keep the erks busy 鈥� dig out some pits for the tea swindle, lovely soil, not a stone in it perfect for digging and, us not having had any survival training, totally collapsed by the next morning engulfing the swindle.

We soon settled into the daily routine of TLC that the aircraft and aircrew expected with the added bonus of an offer to the ground crew of 3d (just over 1p) a day and quick promotion to Sergeant to act as air gunners as the squadron only had three on the strength. This was where our first casualty came from. A victim of what is now known as 鈥渇riendly fire鈥� as the French gunners took delight in using any aircraft in their sights as practice targets but had failed to realise that the previous crew had loaded the guns.

Our fortnight holiday stretched past Christmas with parcels from home and the discipline boys 鈥渕arching us up and down a bit鈥�. 200 airmen in the tiny streets of Manche Le Gauche 2 or 3 paces about turn then all over again and again. Again the look on the faces of the villagers, much like those in Odiham only this time thinking 鈥淟es Anglais Foo鈥�. However to keep us in mind of the war some lethal looking cannon arrived to be fitted to home made struts on the Lysanders. And, to keep us in mind of the chaos, the bullets never did arrive.

Dunkirk 鈥� The Exodus
The Squadron was moved en mass to Lille and set up shop. No sooner had we settled in another move into Belgium by this time passing refugees heading away from the battle areas. Everything and everyone was packed onto the squadron vehicles travelling at a snails pace crawling through the night. As morning broke we found we were in an advancing backward formation going the same way as the refugees. Not a snippet of information passed to anybody. Just follow the directions of the MPs on the road and hope they didn鈥檛 think we were the advance shock troops! We finally came to St Omer where our Lysanders caught up with us. Under the church in the cellars was to become our billet after the aircraft were serviced and reloaded.
Orders trickled down to destroy all our equipment including the unserviceable aircraft then 鈥渁ll aboard鈥� again, now minus all the kit in the church cellars, for a couple of days crawl to a small copse just outside Dunkirk. This we found out from our interpreter who had done a small recce down the road. Out came the rifles, first man gets the gun, numbers two and three get a bandolier of bullets. Nobody gets fed or watered. Then came a unique military order, not of the usual left / right turn type. Our discipline Sergeant stood at the gate of the copse and bellowed 鈥淟eave the copse, one at a time (all 400 of us!) and walk through the town nonchalantly to the harbour鈥�. Hopefully we would board a ship or something as we didn鈥檛 fancy a swim. Sure enough there was a warlike looking 鈥淕rey Funnel Line鈥� Navy boat waiting. A voice bellowed from the bridge to tie a knot in a rope hurled from the side but before anyone could take action a swarm of Stukas dived through the smoke from the burning oil refineries and the Navy went frantically into reverse with everyone they had already boarded leaving us on the quayside. Out of the safety of the copse into a completely exposed dock side. 400 odd RAF (mostly teenagers or early twenties) ground crew who had never really heard a gun fired in anger stood there in bewilderment with ever tightening sphincters enduring the catcalls of the soldiers digging into their positions and strafing German aircraft until the arrival of the Heysham 鈥� Belfast ferry. Again the whistles and 鈥渕ind the gap, pass right along please鈥� and we were all onboard heading out into a sea full of sunken and sinking ships, mines and Stukas. Woke up to see Dover harbour looming up. Those rock cakes and cups of tea from the WVS were the first most of us had seen for days. Thinking back on it, we sailed to France accompanied by boos and catcalls from the Army and sailed out to Dover to the same symphony.

Trains took us from Dover to Tidworth where we surrendered all weapons and ammunition then on to Ringway (Manchester) to be billeted out in local houses, back at last.

After Word.
I developed a painful swelling under one of my nails. 鈥淪tress鈥� said the medic, 鈥渂een doing anything exciting?鈥� Got out his scalpel, stuck it under the nail, woke up on the toilet floor! All that effort only to succumb to a friendly scalpel! We got a couple of days leave and the 鈥淗ero of Dunkirk鈥� marches down the street with his arm in sling and eventually gave up explaining and accepted the free drinks. The Squadron deployed to Lynton on Ouse and billeted on the floor of the NAAFI after it closed for the night. Our surviving aircraft caught up with us having made landfall at Lymne airport and paying the landing fees that the airport staff insisted on. The bill was later displayed in the mess. As far as we knew the enemy was half way up the A1 by now, so holes were dug all round the airfield as defence positions, much to the chagrin of the bomber command lads especially when a Whitley returned from a leaflet raid and taxied right into one of our holes that hadn鈥檛 been there when they took off. After another Whitley demolished our tented encampment I decided it was safer with bomber command and left No 4 Army Co-Op Squadron to become a cog in the giant machinery of bomber Command for the rest of the war. But that鈥檚 another story.

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