大象传媒

Parts of the 206\52 anti-tank regiment have joined many other units on the beaches awaiting evacuation. Fairly constant air raids, mostly by Stuka dive bombers, are taking place up and down the beach. There is also a steady delivery of German artillary shells exploding among the countless vehicles and other debris covering the sand. The order has been given to the troups to dig in among the sand dunes until it's their turn to join the columns of men stretching out into the sea.

It was my uncle, Frank Bisgood, who at length explained the Oak Leaf (A Mention in Despatches) on my father's medal ribbons. Characteristically, Dickie, my father, wasn't intent on blowing his own trumpet, no matter how many times his son pestered him. He saw the whole incident as a bit of lunacy on his part and was surprised that such a fuss should be made of it.

Having endured the continuous bombardment for four days, an increasing number of troups on the beach were becoming severely shell shocked. On occasion, a man would break from cover in an attempt to run from the exploding ordnance around them. While dug into the sand they stood some chance of survival as many low flying shell splinters were smothered by the sand. On their feet out in the open, the possibility of injury or death was all too high.

In order to restore calm, Dickie fetched his shaving gear and wandered down to the waters' edge. Took off his steel helmet and proceeded to attempt to lather up his face. Every time a bomb burst nearby he flinched and more often than not nicked his skin. This produced great hilarity among the men, and many of those who had been close to breaking, were reassured and calmed by the ridiculous sight of an officer busily sticking bits of newspaper to the cuts on his face.

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