- Contributed by
- hugh white
- People in story:
- Donald Mackenzie, Jos Thomas, George Gordon
- Location of story:
- Dunkirk, Brussels, Louvain, Albert Canal
- Background to story:
- Army
- Article ID:
- A8992146
- Contributed on:
- 30 January 2006
Retreat from Dunkirk
by George Gordon
It was now mid-September. We trained for about twelve days and then moved to the racecourse at Aldershot (Tweasledown). His Majesty King George VI and Queen Elizabeth inspected us (as part of the 1st BEF {British Expeditionary Force}. We left Southampton on 30th September and arrived in Cherbourg on the 1st October. From there we advanced to Saint Lo and rested for a week, playing football.
Next we moved up through Amiens and Arras, sleeping in barns. When we were near Lens we used to attend the pit baths. It was here that our team of four, of which I was the leader, broke the long-standing record for threading a Thomas's splint (to immobilise a leg.). I have never since heard of it being broken.
Then it was to the Belgian border, the companies being deployed right on the border, Halluin Roubai. The unit had a large place in Tourcoing, carrying out all the special medical treatment for the whole area. I worked there when not on detachment.
On May 10th we were placed on stand-by and on May 11th moved with great speed up through Belgium to the Albert Canal and the River Meuse. Here chaos set in. Twice we were nearer the Germans than our infantry. It was during this first advance that we suffered the loss of Stan Johnson and Enoch Powell, (the first members of 11 Field Ambulance to be killed in the war.)
We arrived back at a place called Commines. I volunteered to take (back) some casualties, never to see my company again until the end of May. On rejoining it then I was sent to cover the retreat from Poperinge. We were the last to get away.
The infantry had warned us that they were the last (in the retreat) and, with two full ambulances, we followed the Bren guns out.
The division was then sent in to fill the gap where the Belgians had surrendered. We were the rearguard in Belgium. I was detailed to stay behind with the casualties and be taken prisoner.
We had about 40 casualties and moved down to the beach in De Panne (La Panne in those days). During the night there was a great banging on the door where we were stopping. All hearts were in mouths, but it was announced that a General Hospital would stay behind and had come to take over our casualties.
We had to carry all the field dressings available to treat casualties as we made our way along the shoreline. Our party got split up and I was said to have been in the water off De Panne for four hours. I could not swim.
The minesweeper Leda picked us up. Her Skipper said, "We shall be bombed and shelled. If anyone panics I will shoot him!."
We knew the bombers were overhead and suddenly we plunged heavily as bombs dropped on the port side.
Later the ship righted itself . The skipper said that, if the bomber had not dropped another three bombs on the starboard side, we would have sunk in the middle of the North Sea.
It took our boat eight hours to reach England.
The unit reformed at Bridport and then moved to Bishops Walltham. The RSM had taken Headquarters Company back to Dunkirk at the beginning of the evacuation. I was then sent on an NCO's cadre and later promoted.
Escape from France, 1940.
by Donald MacKenzie
Our dull routine quickly ended when Jerry moved into Belgium. We began to move across the border through Brussels to Louvain and the Albert Canal, where we met the Belgian army whose transport was mainly horse-drawn.
We were soon to know how green we were . When casualties began arriving at the ADS (Advanced Dressing Station) with severe wounds and we saw dead for the first time.
From then onwards it was a continual retreat, with pressure from the German infantry and harassment from German planes that completely dominated the skies.
The Stuka dive bomber made life difficult for our artillery because, whenever we opened fire, the Stukas would give it their full attention.
Our Field Ambulance had problems evacuating casualties along roads clogged with refugees escaping the Germans, and there was strafing by the Messerschmitts.
I recall taking casualties from our ADS back to a CCS (Casualty Clearing Station) and finding, on my return, that the ADS had moved away and I could not find it. I returned to the CCS where the major in charge suggested that I should stay with his staff, which included some women nurses, and then be captured by the advancing Germans. The church that his CCS occupied was crammed with wounded.
Fortunately, just then, one of our ambulances arrived with casualties from the ADS, so I was able to return in the ambulance to the ADS in its new location.
This was the chaos prevailing at the time. Each day was a nerve-racking experience, and lack of sleep added to the nervous tension . After a week of this day by day struggle one could see a number of staff, NCOs included, who could not cope. Some never reappeared in the unit when we returned to the UK.
I cannot remember ever having received an order to make for Dunkirk, and was never in that port.
At times we were out of contact with our officers and did not know what was happening, except that we were continuing to retreat.
When I did reach the beach at a place east of Dunkirk, the shore was black with troops, some queuing for boats. There were two or three Royal Navy ships, mostly destroyers, firing at the planes that were strafing and bombing the small rescue boats assisting in the evacuation.
After a time I and a few others of our unit managed to reach a small tramp steamer, the Yewdale, lying half a miler off the shore. We reached it with the help of small pontoon boats, as used by the Royal Engineers for crossing rivers. We climbed up rope ladders to the deck where the Mate was shouting to the troops to go down into the hold. Most appeared happy to do so, but not me. I avoided the order by dodging around the deck, as I preferred to see what was happening.
Joss Thomas and Sgt Griffiths from A company, Eleven Field Ambulance, are the only two I can recall on the Yewdale.
While we lay there more troops boarded, including some French stragglers. At that stage planes did not attack us, although other boats narrowly missed the bombing.
At last the Yewdale made headway from the beach on its own. Then a Messerschmitt attacked us for the first time at sea.. We could hear the bullets rattling along the side of the boat in just one sweep. The Messerschmitt did not return.
Later, as we slowly made our way, we were attacked a second time by a Stuka bomber. From my position I saw it dive towards us. Some of the infantry with rifles were firing at it.
The bomb must have missed our boat and exploded in the water close to the stern, lifting our propeller out of the water. The boat gave a violent shudder. Sergeant Griffiths, our quartermaster, who was stranding next to me, surely thought the boat was sinking, since he immediately dived overboard and others followed him. At that, the skipper of the boat, an Aberdonian, stuck his head over the damaged bridge to say that it was not sinking. He had possibly seen the other men taking an early dip.
As we slowly sailed on we received casualties from that incident, two men killed and one close to me severely wounded. I was struck by glass from the bridge, but not injured.
The Yewdale limped slowly across the Channel to dock at Ramsgate, taking about 17 hours. Sgt. Griffiths survived his swim in the Channel. He was picked up by a destroyer on its way to Dunkirk.
Note taken from the Mercantile Navy List.
The Yewdale was in action from 27 May to 30 May. She suffered from aircraft attacks on 27th during which rafts and a lifeboat were destroyed. Again on the 29th she was attacked, during which 5 were killed and 78 wounded. 890 men were rescued by the Yewdale.
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