´óÏó´«Ã½

This is Arthur Turner's account of his Dunkirk experience:

'I joined the army when I was seventeen. I went to the recruiting office and the recruiting sergeant said, 'How old are you and when were you born?' I said I was born in 1912 and he said, 'You're telling lies! You're not eighteen - you're only seventeen.' My mate told me to go back the next day anyway and tell them I was born in 1911. It worked and then I was in the army!

I wanted to join up because I'd read a lot of P C Wren books about the French Foreign Legion, and I'd seen pictures of the Lifeguards in London. They all seemed to pull the birds! I wanted to join a good regiment and in the end they put me in the Cavalry of the Line — as they used to call it in those days - which meant you could you could be put into any Cavalry regiment in the British Army, like Dragoons or Hussars or Lancers. I went into the 17 21st Lancers, one of the most famous Cavalry regiments and I was sent to Hounslow Barracks in Middlesex.

After about six months the whole regiment went to Egypt. We were stationed in Cairo and I spent two and a half years there — in Cairo and Abyssinia and parts of Palestine. After Cairo, the whole regiment was moved to India where I served from 1932, getting on for 1933, until 1936; so I had four years in India.

When war was declared I was mobilised to a regiment called the 4th 7 Dragoon Guards in Aldershot, a place called Belmont Barracks in Aldershot, but I was a Cavalryman and the Dragoon Guards was a tank regiment; they'd been mechanised, but there was still a crowd of us Cavalrymen. We were invited to join the Military Police and we sat a couple of exams and were accepted into the Royal Military Police. After about three weeks training on military law and civil law, I became a fully qualified.

Arriving in France, 1939-40

We arrived at Dieppe and I was transferred to what they called the Dock Unit. It was part of my job to unload the troops and their vehicles and send them on their way; that took nearly a fortnight by the time the whole Division landed at Dieppe and they were sent all over France — the REOC, the Gunners and all the Infantry Units. Very interesting.

We were sent to a place called Alsace Lorraine, near the Maginot Line, to a village called Kantin [sic], which had been cleared of all population, just the other side of the Maginot Line. We came into contact with the French Foreign Legion and the French troops, and we spent three months there altogether.

Our time was spent on getting to know the land, reading maps, knowing where we were, and knowing where all the different units were stationed. As Military Policemen, we set up an information post for all the visitors to the area, so that we could show them where the different units were.

I was on duty at the railhead as the trains were coming in - Military Policemen were there all the time to stop pilfering. There wasn't much food in France at that time, and French civilians were always ready to 'make an effort' as the trains were coming in with meat and vegetables - there was a lot of pilfering going on, so the Military Police were quite busy.

End of the Phoney War

On 10 May we had telephonic communication that something was happening - we were told to be prepared for a move, which meant packing all our gear. Then Kantin was attacked: I think I was the first one to sound the alarm.

The whole 48th Division was instructed to make for the Belgium border, so we made our way to Brussels. I can still see Brussels being bombed. We were on high ground and we could almost see the bombs as they fell. From then on we were being pushed back, pushed back, pushed back - right through to Tournet, which was burning. I've never seen anything like it in my life. Most of the roads were blocked and the Bren gun carriers could hardly get through - that was a dreadful sight. A lot of petrol tankers had been hit by shells. I saw drivers with their trucks burning and churches on fire, the buildings falling and being shelled. The German artillery was quite close.

Our main job was to keep the units together and keep lines of communication open. Whenever we were static for three or four hours, we set up an information post so we could pass on anything we managed to collect because we didn't have any maps of Belgium - we weren't meant to be involved in Belgium at all.

Facing Hitler's troops

Quite a lot of the Warwickshire Regiment were captured in one engagement and they were screaming and shouting, 'Stretcher bearers! Stretcher bearers!' They were running out of ammunition because of course a squaddie can only carry so much ammunition - it took two men to carry a box of small arms. About 80 of the Worcestershire Regiment were captured by a German unit and herded into a barn or into a farmyard at a place called Paradis [sic]. Even though they'd surrendered they were shot.

We were also stationed in Wormout in an orchard and under cover. It was part of our job to find cover and to check whether bridges would take the weight of lorries. We found cover for the Warwicks and some of the Worcesters. The Warwickshire fought a very, very good battle. We saw that they got through, and could get back, making sure that they'd got ammunition and giving instructions to get the guns into position.

We saw so many farmhouses being shelled, which were visible to the German gunners — any building within distance that could be recognised as a farmhouse was shelled. Most of the civilians left their cattle and some of the cows hadn't been milked for three or four days. Refugees jumped over the hedges and milked the cows and ran back with the milk for their families.

The roads were very busy. We couldn't move. It was mostly horse transport. Then there were refugees - whole families, mums with prams and mostly women pulling two-wheeled carts. Sometimes they'd have a goat or a cow tied to the back. There were big ditches along each road, and we didn't want to push the refugees into the ditch, but in the end we had to, so we could get the guns, the troops, the ammunition, the food and water and the petrol through - that was part of our job. I'm sure the civilians didn't know where the Germans were, but I understand that most of these people had seen it all before during the First World War.

On to Dunkirk

Then we were concentrated at Burgs [sic] with some of the medical staff or the Royal Artillery. They were sent back to where the smoke was — we could see the smoke in the distance towards the sea, although we didn't realise that was Dunkirk until we left Burgs. We were told to make for the coast. There was one section left at Burgs so we marked the route then and when I say marked the route - we pinned up and stencilled the route for the second battalion - the Warwicks or the RESC depot or the Worcester Regiment.

We made our way to the town of Dunkirk and then we were told by another section of Military Police, 'You can't bring your division here - 48 division can't come here. There's too many men in the town, too many men on the jetty, too much transport in Dunkirk.' So we were sent up further along the coast.

The beach, Dunkirk

When I first saw the beach at Dunkirk I was amazed - we didn't realise what was happening. A lot of the smoke came from ships being blown up. As soon as we got onto the beach we were met by nearly every senior officer in the British army, or so it seemed, and we were given orders by everybody over the rank of Major up, including Colonels. I can remember them saying, 'Aah, you're the blokes we want…', and then we were told what we had to do on the beaches (this was before the time of beach masters). Our job was to 'contain and control' and 'discipline': we were told to stop any vehicles and direct them further on, towards Du Panne — where we were going.

We also had to try to gather as much information as possible so that we could answer any questions on the beach near Du Panne. Then we set up a 'stragglers' post' for people who were lost. Myself and six other men from my section were told by a Brigade Major of the 44th Home Counties Division that we had to form the men into queues near the 'mole', a construction going out into the sea. About fifty men at a time were allowed to go onto the mall, but not onto the ships.

The first thing we did was to dig ourselves a big pit, which went down in the sand by about four feet and was nearly as big as this house, so that we could dive in whenever we wanted.

No men allowed on board without their sidearms

I should think we got to Dunkirk about the 28th, although I'm not sure about that. Our job was to try to get them all together, but we were told by a navy man: 'No men allowed on board without their side arms…', so that was one little job we had to do. When that order came through, blokes were scooting off to look for a rifle or a revolver. Then there was a little lane where a lot of ambulances came in, getting as close to the mall as possible, so a lot of squaddies, who were the walking wounded, arrived. They were a priority, so we said to some of the lads, 'Here, mate, go up to those ambulances, up to the sort of top road, you know, the top lane, and get those wounded men down.' Of course they said, 'Blow you, mate! We'll miss our place in the queue!' So we explained, 'You take one of those men down onto the mall, then you're at the front of the queue!' In the end four blokes volunteered to take a corner each. They were quite good volunteers to do that for us.

The beach was quite a scene, with crowds of troops and the Stuka bombers. The noise was really terrifying. As the Stukas came over, the troops dispersed and so did we - into our little pit. Then, as soon as the Stukas had passed over, everything came together again - there was no jumping the queue. One officer said, 'You're doing a bloody good job! You're doing alright, you know. Hang on, hang on!'

It's always amazed me that a lance corporal in the military police could control fifty men - so that's one little achievement!

Fading away

We were there a day and a night - a long, long time. There was perhaps about ten of us; some on the stragglers' post, some on the information post. Then it was decided that one or two of us Military Policemen should gradually 'fade away', and get in the queue. There was a ship at the end of the mole called 'The Fenella', so we got on board. One of the Birmingham boys said to me, 'Gawd, Arthur, this is a lucky ship - I've been to the Isle of Mann on this one.' It was an elaborate ship, a pleasure steamer with gold braiding on all the curtains, beautiful tables — but they bombed it. They bombed the end of the mole, which was made of reinforced concrete with metal inside, and part of it went through the 'Fenella', a wooden ship. The gully caught fire and was burning. Somebody shouted, 'Get off the ship! Get off the ship!' And so we scrambled onto the mall again.

Then the 'Crested Eagle' came in alongside and we had to jump onto the mall first to jump back onto the 'Crested Eagle', which was nearly full, mostly with the wounded. I and my three mates were on top deck and a corporal in the Royal Artillery said, 'Here you are, you can help me work this Orlican [sic, a gun].' So we went with him and succeeded, and we began to steam away from the pier. We'd sailed perhaps half a mile, and then we were bombed again. The bomb went straight into the engine room and there were spuds, carrots, meat [everywhere] — evidently the bomb hit the provision store, as well.

A motor mechanic stationed with the Military Police (to look after our vehicles) was on fire. He was screaming, screaming, and we said, 'Gor, there's Freddie Lucas … there's Freddie!' We rushed to get a bucket of water and chucked it over him. As we put this bucket down, he was putting his arms in the water, but all his skin came off. Then the whole place was on fire. One of our men got a life jacket and pulled Freddie up and fixed the life jacket on him.

'Let's swim for it…!'

Me and my mates were holding onto the lattice work where the guide for the wheels was, and everybody was treading on my bloody fingers with big army boots. Then an officer said, 'Come on lads - let's swim for it...' So we dived into the water and started to swim.

My full pack hit me under the chin as I dived and I smashed a couple of my teeth, but I started to swim and managed to get off my battle dress jacket, but I had khaki trousers and braces on and as I was swimming the braces were coming down. I swam for the shore, and gradually got rid of my trousers, and even my boots. I was a pretty good swimmer, but I tried I tried to touch the bottom and I couldn't - I just sank. With panic I surfaced and then I swam and swam. Then I managed to stand upright and walk to the shore - I was in vest and pants and nothing else except socks.

A straggler on the beach

It was getting pretty dark. None of my mates were with me and I drifted along the coast. I got into an old boat covered with a tarpaulin, which I pulled over me, shivering with cold. When it got light I managed to go to the top of the dunes and found some vehicles. I searched through these and found something to put on: shirt, trousers, a blanket, anything. So I was just like a straggler on the beach, without the things that meant most to a Military Policeman - his cap cover and an arm band.

It must have been getting light and a bit warmer. I walked along the beach to see if I could see any people that I knew and I found some Royal Engineers, I think - there must have been a section there. We found an old rowing boat, which must have been a ship's lifeboat because it was damaged. All the gunnels were ripped away but the Royal Engineers managed to fix it up with pieces of baton and blankets so it was floatable. Ten of us got in this boat and rowed. We rowed and drifted, because we had no oars to guide us, and we steered towards a Dutch ship.

We said, 'We're coming on board. Can we come on board?' And we heard them shouting in Dutch - no hopes because it was a Dutch warship, so we turned and made our way back to the shore, which was the safest place we could see. Then we rowed alongside a navy boat and the lads chucked down rigging so that we could climb up. They only seemed to be kids. That's when the panic started - trying to climb up and reaching for somebody to grab you. We were all trying to get on board together, which caused a lot of panic. One of these kids reached over and said, 'Come on mate,' and he pulled me up and chucked me on the deck, just like a b sack of spuds! And that's how we came home - on a ship called HMS 'Icharus'.'

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