- Contributed byÌý
- Annabel Blair
- People in story:Ìý
- Mary Cecile Norris, Edmund Joseph Norris (Joe)
- Location of story:Ìý
- Falmouth, Cornwall
- Background to story:Ìý
- Civilian
- Article ID:Ìý
- A8554151
- Contributed on:Ìý
- 15 January 2006
My child's eye view of Falmouth harbour during the evacuation of Dunkirk, told to me by my grandmother one evening, as I sat at her feet drawing the scene
My grandparents had a bird’s eye view of the evacuation of Dunkirk.
They owned a hotel on the seafront in Falmouth.
Early in the war, sometime before their hotel was requisitioned by the Navy as part of the planning for the Normandy landings (but that’s another story).
They had a grand view of the natural harbour that is Falmouth.
As a child, I remember my grandmother telling me that one day Falmouth bay was suddenly full of boats — all sorts, from naval vessels to fishing trawlers to rowing boats (that Bob Geldof moment, but they didn't know it at the time), and troops and people, all over the place.
My granny told me it was seething and you couldn't see the water. This was the evacuation of Dunkirk, as the troops got back to these shores.
My grandparents, their friends and neighbours, all shared one worry. That if the German planes came over that night, there would be a massacre.
I remember her telling me this to this day.
The next morning the harbour was completely empty. The following night the planes came over... too late.
And, as a child, I drew a picture as my grandmother told me the story. It was for a school project about the war. I must have been about 9 or so.
This is my child’s eye view of World War II, in a picture that my grandmother painted for me with her words.
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