大象传媒

鈥淭his story was submitted to the People鈥檚 War Site by volunteer Anita Howard from Essex Action Desk CSV on behalf of Herbert Alfred Cook and has been added with his permission. He fully understands the site鈥檚 terms and conditions.鈥�

DUNKIRK

When, in the summer of 1939, I volunteered to join a Territorial Unit of the RASC, I could not imagine what the future would bring. I was convinced, as were many of my friends, that war was imminent, and that call-up papers would reach us before very long. By volunteering, one could choose, within reason, the type of service that was most amenable. As I was, at that time, working with my father as a warehouseman and driver rounds man, driving and delivering supplies to troops seemed the right choice.

Four of me friends joined up with me. However, we were all called to serve in different units after war broke out; such is life!

That winter I went with my company to France and until spring, life was a relatively uneventful affair. During those months there was a popular comment 鈥淲e鈥檝e had the Boer War, then the Great War and now we have the Great BORE WAR鈥�. This situation, however, did not last and events came at lightning speed. The Maginot Line built to defend France from German invasion was simply by-passed by heavily armed forces which invaded Holland and Belgium and drove through to Northern France.

The month of May and early June saw the complete defeat of the armies of the Low Countries and the withdrawal of our own Expeditionary Force together with some French troops who had been offered evacuation opportunities. This was known as the Dunkirk Retreat. Dunkirk was indeed the main town, but all along the coastline almost to the Belgian frontier was the evacuation area.

Everything happened with such swiftness that it was difficult to keep pace with it all. As a transport unit we had been trained not to stay in towns, but to hide our vehicles in woodlands if possible, or to pack them, heavily camouflaged, along hedges and borders of fields and meadows.

We had already entered Belgium early in May and several incidents stay firmly in by mind:-

The first was when we were parked in a wood neat Watou. Some Stuka bombers came over and released their loads onto the wood. Thankfully, they caused little damage and there were no serious casualties.
I wrote a poem about this shortly afterwards.

Action

I heard a nightingale this morn Singing as in days now gone G
And in my native land, to me Its song came wild and rich and free

A bird of harsher voice appeared
Grotesque, profane, which swiftly neared
Then dived among us; from its claws
Hell was released upon the wood.

Then others of this self same brood
Did likewise, yet without a pause
The while and after they had gone
The nightingale sang on.

The second incident was more frightening. Some bombers, two days later, came over targeting the same wood as before. A few comrades and I were lying face down on a near by field, when a Stuka came where we were lying. Normally these planes dropped a cluster of six bombs in quick succession. We counted each explosion each coming nearer and nearer 鈥� one, two, three, four, and five! My friend said 鈥淭his is it!鈥� But where was number six? It fell within a few feet of us bur failed to explode!

A third incident occurred just before we left Belgium. We had learned that King Leopold of the Belgians had surrendered his country. Our senior officers had ordered us to dump our vehicles either in the canal or set fire to them to avoid their being used by the enemy. We then had to proceed on foot towards Dunkirk. As our company was a food supplier we were not short of provisions and we were able to stuff our uniforms with as much food and water reserves as possible. On our journey through Belgium we came upon a Caf茅. The woman owner came out with the surprise offer of free drinks for us all. She said she did not want the invaders having the same privilege. Finally we arrived at the beaches of Brae Dunes to the north of Dunkirk. We had all stayed together during the whole journey.

By this time the Germans had taken most of the coastline area in France and were now turning there large guns originally aimed at Dover and Folkestone toward Dunkirk. Fortunately for us the shells landed short of the Brae Dunes and were mainly aimed at the town and port of Dunkirk.

A final incident which I will always remember was when we were all assembled in groups on the beach. We slept intermittently overnight and slowly proceeded each day towards the jetty where boats came in to ferry us away to safety.
One day I needed to relieve myself. On previous occasions I had always found some secluded spot, but on this occasion there nothing but the beach. I felt too modest to use the beach and walked off to look in one of the abandoned hotels on the sea front. After much searching I found a toilet which was choked up and no water available. However it had to do. On returning to re-join my unit I found that they had moved on and was unable to find them. I felt utterly lost! To my great relief a small group of soldiers passed by and a young captain called out 鈥淚f anyone has lost his unit come with us.鈥� As we progressed I suddenly heard a recognised voice calling my name.
It was our Company Sergeant Major. I quickly left my temporary group and rejoined my comrades.
Yes, this was the C.S.M. we had always looked upon as a tyrant but here he was, standing by us to the very end. He was a professional soldier who put duty and responsibility before anything else.
Our group were particularly fortunate because the particular jetty at the Brae Dunes had not been damaged so we were able to walk to the end of it and finally board the destroyer H M.S. Wolsey without even getting our feet wet!

Herbert cook

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