大象传媒

Extract from the diaries of Frank Masters who at the time of Dunkirk
In 1940 was a trained nurse and a Corporal in the Royal Medical Corps.

The British, French and Belgian Armies retreated and the latter soon capitulated. The French Maginot Line became ineffective as the Germans with their tanks and motorised units went round the southern flank and entered France. We found ourselves hurrying towards Seclin to stop the German advance and were involved in fierce fighting over a wide area. Our Company was detached from the Brigade and sent in support of the some French tanks who were taking a beating and giving us a lot of work. The language difference was not barrier, wounds are easily visible. My most horrifying experience was the amputation of a French soldiers leg which was gangrenous, the smell being easily recalled to this day. The tanks were destroyed giving us new experiences in removing the dead and the almost living from the death traps. After the battle and when we had dealt with all the casualties we were ordered to leave the area and rejoin our unit, still no maps and verbal directions to proceed oer the hill and turn left at the next road 鈥測ou can鈥檛 miss it鈥� theory prevailing. We had occupied a farmhouse, now evacuated by the owners, and used it as an aid post. The wounded had been sent to the ADS and McGhee was found among the bottles of the well filled wine store in a happier state of mind than the rest of us who had not slept, it seemed, for days. The first truck of survivors from the French tanks left to climb the hill and as soon as they reached the skyline became a sitting target for a German detachment ensconced on the other side of the hill. The second truck left an hour later and suffered the same plight. All the soldiers were killed..
In the opposite direction, which at first suggested an alternative means of exit, we could see a German tank and some soldiers at the edge of a wood. We decided to await nightfall, then made a dash over the hill. At the road junction we turned left and the old Pickfords van was tested to the full. After about a mile we caught up with other trucks going the same way so we stayed behind them and were glad of the company until we were passing an airfield on which there were burning aeroplanes and in the light from the fires were shatter4ed to see the markings on a truck ahead of us. We were in the wrong Army. A quick conference suggested we halt to give us some distance between us, and the vehicle in front then turn off at the next opportunity but that idea was soon scuppered as the next part of the convoy was soon on our tail as we slowed down. We finally got out of the mess we were in by slowing down as we approached the next village which to out good fortune had a curve in the road in the built up area. We allowed the Germans to get about a quarter of a mile ahead then our driver sped as fast as possible to put distance between us and the following packet of vehicles that seemed to keep to its allotted convoy speed. As we rounded the bend we saw a road turning off to the left about a hundred yards ahead and we lurched into the narrow gap and stopped and prayed. It worked as the following convoy motored straight on. The place seemed dese4ted and soon everything went quiet, no vehicles, no soldiers.
When dawn was about to break we decided to carry on down the road and considered a right turn to the North would be appropriate as that was the way to England and we did not want to catch up with the German convoy. We set off with eyes peeled but saw no military activity, the odd Frenchman looked oddly at our vehicle but we did not stop for a couple of hours at a time when the petrol gauge was not encouraging a much longer journey. We were feeling somewhat satisfied with our progress and more than delighted when we approached a road block ahead with British vehicles parked under the trees. However we stopped abruptly at the sound of a gun firing, a wisp of smoke rising from the road block and an anti tank shell embedding itself in the bank on the side of the road about three feet from where we had stopped. This was it and time to use our identity as Medics as there was obviously no means of escape. I alighted with my hands up and showing my Red Cross Armband praying whoever was behind the barrier had heard about the Geneva Convention. As I did so, I was accosted by a sergeant accompanied by two soldiers armed with rifles who yelled in English (it had to be or we would not have understood the command) 鈥減ut your hands on your heads and walk towards me one at a time, the Corporal first鈥�. I dutifully obeyed but was dismayed when we arrived at the barrier to be treated in the most unfriendly manner. Our captors were convinced we were 鈥渇ifth columnists鈥�, and intended to treat us as such. We had been warned that the Germans were infiltrating our units dressed as British Soldiers. We were taken to Company Headquarters and interrogated by an Officer for some time and after checking with his Regiment and other Headquarters we were allowed to continue our journey and after a bumpy ride on badly maintained side roads, numerous contrary directions and a fortuitous replenishment of petrol, we finally caught up with A Company only to be tolled off and criticised for being late reporting from the last detail. Our Company Commander took a different view when he heard of our exploits. I thought we had earned a medal, not a rollicking.
A few days later when on a similar detail with the infantry away from the Company, the infantry commander told me they were withdrawing and I should return to my unit. There were three of us including the driver of the ambulance which was our means of transport. We returned to the farm where the company had been located and the farmer said they had left two days before 鈥� lost again no instructions, no maps, no ideas. Apart from shells passing overhead, mostly in one direction there was no other military activity, except the odd army vehicle whose occupants where mostly unhelpful or like us, lost. We came to a road junction and a sign post pointed to Lille. Now there was a place I knew because it was about twenty miles from Armentieres and I had spent my 21st Birthday there with my friends on a special eight hour pass. Off we go to Lille and as night fell we found the Town Hall believing they could direct us to a military formation. The Town Major (a British Army Liaison Officer) was installed there and I reported to him. He did not know what to do with us and suggested we went into a large room with our blankets and bed down for the night organised some sandwiches and tea, which were the first food that had passed our lips for many, many hours. Later on other soldiers arrived and lay down to sleep. Being short on sleep we slept long and sound and when awakened the next morning found to our surprise four more lads from our unit, also lost, were sleeping in the same room. The Town Major showed us a large map giving the supposed locations of the British and French forces but it was very much out of date. He gave us directions on how to rejoin our unit vehicles and a couple of lost medics and their driver. So our little convoy set off and on arrival at the unit, pleased with the little group I had collected, and expecting a little praise, found the RSM had other ideas, accusing me of being absent without leave and declaring this was a court martial offence in war time. The ultimate penalty was unthinkable 鈥� shot at dawn or strapped to a gun wheel ?. Fortunately my Company Commander again thought differently and as a Car Collecting Post I was allotted another task ( I did well the last time I collected three cars ?) and swiftly left the fuming RSM conjuring up some evil way to get me hung drawn and quartered. He never forgave me and as a Regular soldier could never understand the TA Volunteer.

Continued...
'This story was submitted to the People鈥檚 War site by 大象传媒 Radio Merseyside鈥檚 People鈥檚 War team on behalf of the author and has been added to the site with his / her permission. The author fully understands the site's terms and conditions.'

漏 Copyright of content contributed to this Archive rests with the author. Find out how you can use this.