大象传媒

An account by my father, Jeffrey Jackson:

'It eventually became clear that the refugees did not know which way to go. In fact, the Germans had broken through to the coast south of us (then in Lille) and the only way out of the trap was to make for Dunkirk. Up to a certain point, we still had our lorries, but eventually we came to a canal in which a lorry had been sunk to make a bridge - this could only be crossed on foot. The order was given to abandon the lorries and to dump all kit except rifles.

Once across the canal, the route led across a flat plain intersected with canals, one of which I unsuccessfully tried to jump. I must have come to a road, as I was given a lift on the gun carriage of a Bofors. This took me into a small coastal resort called Bray Dunes, where there was a huge sanatorium. To the south I could see enormous clouds of black smoke from burning oil storage tanks in Dunkirk. Thus, although I always say that I was at Dunkirk, I never actually saw the place until I went there in 1990 for the 50th anniversary of the evacuation (as I said, 'Dunkirk at last - it's taken me 50 years to get here.')

Somehow or other, I managed to get together with other people from the unit, though I don't remember any NCOs or officers. There were no ships to be seen when we arrived, which was very depressing. After it started to get dark, we and many others gave up hope of getting away that day and moved up into the dunes for the night.

Later in the evening, we could see ships far away, but there was no way of getting to them. There were German aircraft around, but they ignored us and concentrated on the ships. A paddle steamer was hit and ran aground quite close to us, where it burned furiously and the explosion of the ammunition on board created an impressive fireworks display. I was sure that this would bring the Germans down on us, but nothing happened. The situation remained unchanged the following day - there was still no way of getting to the ships that we could see. (I now know, of course, that the bulk of the troops were not evacuated from the beaches, but from the mole in Dunkirk harbour, against which ships could be drawn up alongside, thus making boarding easier.)

Later in the day, a rowing boat came in, into which I piled with many others, putting my rifle down in the bottom of the boat. However, there were so many of us that the boat was stuck in the sand and could not be floated off. It was at this point that an officer totally unknown to me stood up, pointed his pistol at me and ordered me to get out, which I did, leaving my rifle behind in the excitement, and then helping to push the boat out. I thought that that was the end, but the boat did come back. This time, I didn't even try to get in, but helped to push it out, going up to my neck in the process. Fortunately, someone I knew then hauled me over the side.

We were taken to the Fair Breeze, which I remember as a Lowestoft drifter, but I may have got this wrong. A drifter would have a number of men as the crew, while all I remember is the master and his small son, who could have been the youngest person to take part in the evacuation. In 1990 I looked for the Fair Breeze among the small ships at Dunkirk, but didn't find it, which was not surprising as I later heard that it had been sunk in Dunkirk harbour, though nobody seems to know how it happened or whether there were any survivors.

By the time we left the coast it was dark, which was fortunate, as a German plane passed over us during the crossing and gave us a burst of machine-gun fire, but missed. I was too wet, cold and hungry really to care (all I remember eating were some cold haricot beans out of a tin). We did stop en route to rescue three French soldiers in a rowing boat, attempting to make their own Channel crossing. In the morning we arrived in Ramsgate to discover that we were heroes.'

The Fair Breeze struck a wreck off Dunkirk and sank on 1 June 1940.

-- Read all L Jackson's edited contributions about her father's service

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