大象传媒

MEMORIES OF A DUNKIRK VETERAN by Harold Matthews

HAPPY BIRTHDAY

My story begins on the 10th May 1940, when my mates and I were celebrating my 20th birthday. We were in the backroom of Joseph Degand鈥檚 estaminet at the lower end of Moncheaux, a village in Northern France not far from the mining town of Le Foret. We had eaten our egg and chips and were drinking champagne when, suddenly, Mr Degand burst into the room and placed a further half dozen bottles of champagne on the table shouting 鈥渢he Germans aren鈥檛 having these鈥� in his guttural French. The news had just come through that the Germans had crossed the border into Belgium. Joseph and his wife had bitter memories of the 1914-18 war but were happy to think that this time they were protected by the Maginot Line which had been constructed in the 1930s. 鈥淥n ne pass茅 pas鈥� (they shall not pass) was the motto on the Maginot line badge 鈥� they didn鈥檛 鈥� they went round!!

THE PHONEY WAR

I had joined the Signal Section of the Territorial 8th Battalion of the Worcestershire Regiment in 1938 and had arrived in France early in January 1940. Between then and the 10th May we had:-

飦� Stood on guard duty in the bitterly cold weather at the cross roads near the Church at Moncheaux

飦� Dug 鈥渄efences鈥� in the clay at the Belgian border

飦� Travelled down to the Saar region in a cattle truck to see the activity between British and German patrols

飦� Visited the site of the battle of Waterloo with the C.O etc

THE REAL WAR

Events over the 3 weeks after 10th May are not too clear in my mind, so I will relate certain specific incidents which occurred during this time 鈥� where and when I do not know.

鈥淚t was a hot and sunny day and a group of us were resting in an orchard when we heard the sound of an approaching aircraft. The pilot knew we were there and swooped down spraying us with bullets. We lay behind the trunks of the trees and were able to get a clear view of the pilots face as the plane passed over just above the trees. The only casualty had a bullet through the fleshy part of his buttock. I found a row of bullet holes in my blanket about an inch from my body. We got up and raced to the farm buildings just before the plane returned for another burst of fire.

Then there was a time that I was on my own at a cross roads on traffic duty as the endless line of Refugees came by, amongst them were some nuns who kept their heads down, I wonder how many of them were 鈥渇ifth columnist鈥� (civilian spy) men in disguise. Should I have 鈥渢aken down their particulars and examined their credentials?鈥�

On another occasion Battalion HQ was in an ordinary house in a village and we had dug a slit trench at the bottom of the short garden. A yard or so behind this trench was a tool shed made out of asbestos sheets in which a 鈥渇ifth columnist鈥� was detained awaiting questioning. When enemy mortar fire started, we dived into the slit trench and within seconds one bomb hit the shed. The occupant was badly injured so two of us dashed across the road to the medical unit situated under the tall tress on the other side. We grabbed a stretcher but by the time we had picked up the casualty and taken him over the road, a mortar bomb had hit the top of a tree, burst downwards and killed the medical orderlies. What a horrible sight!

Communication with the outlying units was by telephone lines laid alongside the road and one evening towards the end of May the Section Sergeant and I were told that the line to 鈥淐鈥� company had gone dead and we were to go to the village and inform them to withdraw. We set off along the deserted roads and passing by a group of houses, we turned a corner and came face-to-face with a tank; 鈥淕ermans鈥� we thought, preparing to raise our hands 鈥� you can imagine our relief when a head popped out of the top of the tank and a cockney voice shouted 鈥渋ts alright mate!鈥�. We trudged on until we came to the end of the telephone line; 鈥淐鈥� company had already withdrawn. We didn鈥檛 have a map or compass but once again were fortunate 鈥� we were on the road heading north. All we saw in the gathering gloom was a single German plane but the pilot did not waste any ammo on the two lonely figures in his sights鈥�

ON THE ROAD TO DUNKIRK

鈥nd so we came to a road which, we eventually discovered led to Dunkirk. We trudged on wearily 鈥� one foot in front of the other 鈥� how far and for how long, I did not know. As we got nearer to our destination the area on each side of the road was flooded, more and more abandoned vehicles had been pushed off the road and we decided to find out what was inside one lorry. From the contents it must have been delivering goods to officer鈥檚 messes because we found cartons of 20 Churchman鈥檚 No1 Cigarettes (one of the most expensive at that time). We stuffed as many packets as possible in our battle dress blouses and I grabbed a tin which turned out to contain greengages. A French soldier was just ahead of me and a baguette on the top of his backpack fell to the ground. I picked it up and pushed it under my arm, without breaking my stride.

We arrived at Dunkirk where we found the quayside was ablaze and we were directed along the coast for a further 3 miles to Bray Dunes where we settled down for the night after sharing the greengages and baguette with half a dozen other tired and hungry men.

The next day we lay in the dune watching the lines of troops wending their way to the edge of the sea, some being picked up by an assortment of boats and others wearily making their way back to their dune. Occasionally during the day a German plane came along the beach, strafing the dunes. We crouched down in the dune and fortunately suffered no casualties. As the day went on we began to wonder when our turn to line up would come, but we had been ordered to stay where we were and so we went to sleep for another night.

OUR EVACUATION

At last it was our turn鈥 destroyer had come in shore as far as possible and one of its small boats came in towards the shore. I waded out into the sea until it came up to my armpits, carefully pushing the packets of cigarettes up as far as possible to keep them dry. 鈥淵ou can get rid of that鈥� said the sailor pointing to my rifle, which I dropped into the sea as he grabbed me and pulled me aboard. I was the last and the destroyer was packed with troops so that I had to sit on my upturned steel helmet between two hatches through which anti-aircraft shells were being passed to the deck above.

As we got underway, there was the banging of the anti-aircraft fire from above for a short time and then all went quite. I fell asleep. When I awoke I found myself alone on the deserted ship. I scrambled up and made my way to the deck to find that we were tied up alongside two other destroyers which I climbed across to reach the quay (why didn鈥檛 I remember to find out the number of the destroyer?)

We were at Dover! We were on a railway platform and there (could I believe my eyes) was a Salvation Army lady brining me a steaming hot mug of tea and a sandwich 鈥� what a miracle 鈥� I was home!

BACK IN BLIGHTY

I was escorted by another kind lady to the train, helped into a compartment filled with other fortunate survivors and within minutes the train pulled away and we settled back to take in the wonderful English countryside. The train stopped for a short time at a station along the route and we were given a pre-printed grey looking postcard on which was a few words 鈥淚 am safe and well in England 鈥� a space for my name and I wrote my mothers name and address on the reverse鈥�. We handed them back at the next stop and that is how my loved ones knew of my return.

After several hours we arrived at Temple Meads station, Bristol, from where we were transported up to Filton Park. At the gate a charming young lady gave me a welcoming smile and a packet of Wills Woodbines (no I didn鈥檛 show her what I had tucked in my battle dress blouse!).

We settled down into tents and a medical team came round to attend to our needs. I had a blister on each of my heels, the size of half-a-crown, others were less fortunate and had wounds which had to be dressed or they were taken to hospital.

I can鈥檛 remember where I washed and shaved (if I did) or what clothes I changed into. This must have happened because I can鈥檛 remember any complaints about BO.

As some stage the good folk of Bristol came and befriended us and I was fortunate because Mrs Darke and her family took me into their home. They got in touch with my girlfriend (my future wife) and she came down to Bristol where one of the Darke boys helped me to meet her train and then took us back to their home for a meal.

THE AFTERMATH

Opinion is divided as to whether Dunkirk was an event over which we ought to be ashamed because we had been routed by the enemy or whether it was a wonderful victory of which we could be proud. Whatever else it was, it was a MIRACLE!

Suffice it to say that after a spell of duty on coastal defence in Cornwall I was transferred to the Royal Crops of Signals on my 21st Birthday and in 1942 was sent out to India with the 2nd Divisional Signals.

Surviving two bouts of malaria, I went into action on the Mayu Peninsula in Burma where our Brigade (6th Independent infantry) HQ was overrun by the Japanese and our Brigadier was captured and killed.

Against all odds, I was with the 鈥渇ront line鈥�, 2nd Durham Light Infantry and not in my usual place at Brigade HQ.

I should have been at Imphal where my signal detachment was wiped out but by another chance of fortune I was in hospital.

I ended up with the Chindits but by then the Japanese were being pushed out of Burma and we were not needed to go behind enemy lines. I came home in November 1945 and was de-mobbed in April 1946. As a 鈥淭errier鈥� I had been in the war since 鈥渄ay one鈥� and survived over 6 陆 years.

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