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Authors: Murdo Morrison

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Chapter 5

Out of Their Depth

Dunkirk, 1940

 

The sergeant’s promise of more ships was soon fulfilled. That afternoon several trawlers and passenger ships arrived to tie up at the East Pier. The news that over a dozen ships lay in Dunkirk harbor caused considerable excitement among the waiting men, but their mood soon turned to impatience. Their restlessness was tempered by the return of German bombers that sent them diving to the sand. But this time, the aircraft concentrated on the assembled ships.
 

The sound of detonations from the harbor enraged the men. Having endured several anxious days and nights, they came close to their breaking point when they saw the vessels they hoped might bring them safely away sustain damage. Then came the news that the
Lochgarry
and
Canterbury
had made it out of the harbor laden with evacuees. The men were caught in a seesaw between hope and near despair. Although ships were beginning to appear, the number of men waiting still far outstripped those available.
 

Each time the German planes appeared the loss of ships increased. The news that rippled out from the east pier was depressing. The trawler
Calvin
had sunk at her moorings from a direct hit. On the seaward side of the pier, three bombs straddled the passenger steamer
Fenella
. Crowded with soldiers, she sank at her mooring. The surviving troops were moved on to the
Crested Eagle
. Her crew maneuvered the ship away from the pier seeking to escape the relentless German attacks. A scant few yards from her berth four bombs in quick succession turned her into a blazing wreck that drifted aground on the beach. The carnage continued. Bombs rained down on the
King Orry
as she entered the harbor. Her stern rose in a great fountain of water and debris before crashing into the end of the East Pier.
 

Nor were the bombers neglecting the ships that lay off the beaches. The wrecks and casualties continued to mount. John Stokes’ mood sank steadily as each hour brought new disappointments. Even Tierney was having a hard time maintaining a positive front. Privately he thought, if we do get off this beach, our chances for reaching Dover appear pretty slim. Those ships that do manage to get out of Dunkirk must be running a fearsome gauntlet of German attacks.
 

As the sun set on yet another long day on the beach, Tierney was close to despair. Anxiety and sleeplessness fed each other in a constant cycle.
 
Even Charlie was subdued and thoughtful as he sipped tea from his billycan. He was sitting with Harry, Jimmie Donnelly and Billy McNulty. The last few days had torn holes in the latter’s tough façade. They sprawled out on the sand, smoking cigarettes and drinking tea. “Ye better enjoy these fags,” Billy said, breaking a long lull in their conversation. “That’s the last o’ them an’ ah doubt if ah can find ony mer.” He blew out a long breath full of smoke then nipped out the half-smoked cigarette and put the butt behind his ear. He lay on his back and stared at the sky.
 

“Ye know, ah never had a clue whit the sky looked like till ah ended up on this beach,” Billy said. "Wid ye take a look at that.” Charlie was surprised to hear such an expression of aesthetic appreciation coming out of the mouth of a Brigton hard man. Billy was oblivious. He was entranced by the intensity of the stars in the dark sky. "Whit’s that brighter bit up there?” he asked.

Charlie wasn’t quite sure what Billy meant. “Dae ye mean that bit right there, that goes right ower our heids? Ach, that’s the Milky Way. Are ye telling me ye’ve never seen the Milky Way afore?”

“Naw it’s news tae me pal,” Billy replied matter-of-factly, not taking offense.
 

Charlie suddenly realized that the experience he had assumed was shared by everyone, wasn’t at all. But, what would a city lad like Billy growing up in the sooty murk of Glasgow know about the stars? In his mind’s eye Charlie could see Billy as a boy, the arse out of his shorts, as he ran around the backcourts of the tenements. It had been tough times in the 1920’s even for men with skills. Billy would have been out of school at the first possible moment even if he had been inclined to stay on.
 

Charlie felt the anger rising in him again for a whole generation of Billies with no chance of a better life.
That’s what the rich who drive around in fancy motorcars and hold their handkerchiefs to their nose at the thought o’ the working class don’t understand
, Charlie thought.
They look down their noses at us, but they wouldn’t last five minutes in the tenements. Aye, they’re bloody scared of us right enough but not enough to help us
. He thought of the tanks and soldiers that had been stationed in Glasgow in preparation for any uprising when the unemployed were crying out for work. Now lads like Billy are sitting on their arses waiting for help again. And if he makes it out the other side of the war the most he could expect is a pat on the back if he’s lucky then back tae Brigton and you’re on your own sonny boy.

Charlie wasn’t quite sure what his politics were. He had such a deep mistrust of politicians and parties that he thought they should all be consigned to hell. So he listened to the fine sounding words of the communists with great skepticism. “Aye, jist go take a guid look at Russia,” he would tell them. They would look pityingly at him and mutter darkly behind his back that the working class was its own worst enemy.
 

He was brought out of this dark thicket of his mind by Billy’s persistent questioning. “So whit is it, the Milky Way?”

Charlie was brought up short. He had taken his knowledge of the sky for granted. Now, even his inquisitive mind had no answer. There are different layers of knowledge. How far you get depends on how satisfied you are with the answers. He made a mental note to himself to find out when he got the chance. “Billy, ah don’t know. But ah can tell ye aboot the constellations and how sailors use the stars tae find oot where they are.”

Billy raised himself up on one elbow. “Ah wid like tae hear aboot that,” he said.
 
Over the snores of their companions, Charlie introduced him to the wonders of the heavens.
 

A new day found the presence of more ships off the beaches. Many of the great multitude of soldiers had begun to coalesce into lines that stretched from the edge of the sea back up the beach. But many still milled around uncertainly. Others preferred to stay close to the dunes where they felt less exposed to attack.
 
Billy and his pals were nowhere to be seen. They had melted away into the crowd, perhaps sensing a critical time of opportunity had arrived. Charlie felt disappointed that they had left without a word. He had thought that their chances for getting off would have been better with the two Glasgow men.
 

Tierney was listening to several of his men voicing opinions about what they should do. Harry was for going back to the East Pier. Several others thought their best chance was on the beach. Tierney was uncharacteristically hesitant. The situation seemed so much in flux that he was having trouble deciding what the right course of action might be. He would have to take a gamble and hope he did not lose the bet with his crew’s lives at stake.
 
Charlie was straining to listen to the discussion from the edge of the group when a familiar voice sounded in his left ear.
 

He turned to see Billy and Jimmie. “Whit the hell happened to you two?”

“Ach, keep yer herr oan Cherlie,” Billy said. “We were jist out and about, checking out the lie o’ the land, so tae speak.”

 
“And whit did ye find out?” Charlie asked, mollified and relieved.

“Aye, well, they’re trying tae dae things the ermy way, see. Oh aye they’re good at getting everybody lined up an aw. But when a ship comes intae the beach it gets tae be a bloody shambles. There are aw these wee boats floating aboot the place that are nae use tae onybody cause naebody in the ermy knows shite aboot boats. They’ll take a load o’ men oot but naebody wants tae come back tae this beach, see. So they jist let the damn boats drift aff.”

Jimmie could see the question in Charlie’s face. “So we find this sergeant an’ we tell him, whit aboot if we could find ye a bunch o’ men that are handy wi’ boats and widnae mind helping fer a while as long as they get aff themselves? Maybe they cud show youse how tae work them yersels.
 
He said tae find them an’ get their arses ower there on the double.”
 

He saw the light of understanding come over Charlie. “Park yersels fer a minute,” he told them, and went off to find Tierney.
 

When Tierney heard Charlie’s news he shook his head in disbelief that a possible solution had turned up and so quickly. Charlie thought he was refusing Jimmie’s offer of help and started to protest.
 

Tierney held up his hand to quiet him. “Charlie, we’re not going to pass up an opportunity like this.” He put the idea to the others who quickly assented. Tierney turned back to Charlie. “Lead on McDuff.”
 

At the water’s edge they found that Billy hadn’t exaggerated the situation. Boats were adrift up and down the beach. Pleased to see them, Sgt. Hutchinson outlined his plan to the captain. “We desperately need experienced boat handlers who can go out to the ships with the boats and make sure they get back to the beach,” he told the captain. “If you and your men can give us a few days to help us get men off the beaches and train some of our men to handle the boats, I promise you I will do my best to make sure you all get away from here.”

Tierney turned to his men who were grouped around listening. “Well, what do you think?” he asked.
 
There was a chorus of approval. Tierney turned back to Tom Hutchinson.

 
“Thank you Captain,” he said. “You will be performing a great service for these men on the beach.”
 

Hutchinson quickly assembled a party of men to assist the sailors. Tierney explained the strategy. “We need to commandeer a few boats so we can round up those empty ones. That won’t be very popular but the sergeant will arrange it. The rest of you will reconnoiter the water’s edge for any that can be reached from shore.” Tierney placed Charlie in charge of one boat and Harry and John Stokes of two others. He would remain on the beach to coordinate any issues that might arise with the army. “All right men, let’s get started.”
 

Billy McNulty and Jimmie Donnelly had made sure they were assigned to the beach operation and be part of the deal to get off the beach. “It’s only fair, “McNulty had explained to Hutchinson, “since we found them for you.”

Hutchinson, a pragmatist at heart, had seen no problem with the proposal. He assigned a few of his men to help and they split up into two groups that ranged up and down the beach. They quickly found three boats drifting in the surf. Without oars they were unusable and had been left to float aimlessly. The men towed them back along the beach looking for any oars that might have drifted in to shore.

In the shallow waters off the beach Charlie’s crew were rowing towards a boat that was still at least a hundred yards away. Their task was made harder by a stiff breeze.
 
Charlie ordered the men to stand to for a few minutes to rest. He felt the breeze on his face subside. They resumed their approach to the boat. In a few minutes they were alongside and two men carefully moved over to it while strong hands held it secure. With the boat’s painter secured to their stern they moved off to collect another. Within an hour they had three other boats in tow and headed back to shore.
 

Charlie scanned the sea. A paddle steamer was approaching. He admired the ship’s classic lines. She must date back to before the first war, he thought. The scream of diving bombers assailed his ears. Charlie looked up and around. Overhead he saw black crosses on a plane’s wings. Charlie looked back at the ship. It disappeared amidst the explosions of several bombs. A broken rag doll semblance of a person flew out of the chaos to land in the sea. The steamer slowed to a stop, settling to the bottom. Charlie was appalled that such a fine vessel could be so quickly and utterly ruined. He scanned the ship and the waters around it looking for any sign of life. The ship was surrounded by floating wreckage among which were a few motionless figures in life jackets.
 

Charlie opened his clasp knife and cut the painter holding the other boats. “All right lads, pull away thegither.” They hauled back on the oars and the boat surged forward, heading for the men in the water. Charlie brought the boat into the floating debris.
 
A man’s head bobbed into view, passing down the side of the boat.
 
Charlie reached out to grab his lifejacket. He found himself looking into a face so badly burned and mutilated that it was scarcely recognizable as a person. He let go of the dead man and went on.
 

The attacks continued on ships up and down the beach. Charlie’s ears hurt with the noise of bursting bombs and guns returning fire. The men were nervous but remained focused on their task. They shipped oars and the boat came to rest near a group of swimming survivors. Several men, anxious to come aboard, threatened to capsize the boat. The boat crew pried their arms from the rail. Charlie silenced the survivors’ protests. “Haud yer wheesht. We’ll get all o’ ye aboard. But ye need tae pay attention tae whit we tell ye.” He directed his men to bring in the survivors on both sides of the boat at the same time.
 

BOOK: Roses of Winter
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