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A Tribute to My Dad and a Memory of War
Dunkirk. Through the Eyes of Others…
We had a family trip to the movies recently to see this realistic, unrelenting even, portrayal of the events of June 1940.
All the way through, my mind was focused on my lovely dad experiencing what the young soldiers on the screen were sharing with us. He was there, on those beaches, only he didn’t make that first wave of evacuation.
After walking for weeks, his regiment — or what remained of it — arrived too late for the boats seen in the film. The Dunkirk beaches were deserted and, exhausted and hungry, my dad and his comrades were given orders to march a further 400+ miles to the west coast of France.
Finally, they made it on board the Lancastria, a requisitioned Cunard liner. My dad said he only remembers being surrounded by nurses, and probably by tears.
The Story Did Not End There…
But safety didn’t come quite yet. The Lancastria was bombed, in what’s been called Britain’s worst martime disaster. I’m not sure how many went down in that one event, estimates claim anywhere between 3,000 and 6,000, with as many saved, in part due to the RAF pilot who brought down the German bombers.
