Episode 17: The Dunkirk Evacuation (4)
Having shattered the French army’s solid defensive line and embarked on a mad dash toward Dunkirk, the 10th Panzer Division succeeded in reaching the vicinity of their objective, Dunkirk, at 3 PM on May 28.
When they arrived, the evacuation was in full swing.
British, French, and a small number of Belgian soldiers packed onto the beach had discarded everything, weapons and all, and were surging toward the ships.
The vessels were of all kinds.
From massive cargo ships as large as warships, to luxurious yachts and pleasure cruisers that looked to have nothing to do with military operations, to tiny little fishing boats.
All these boats had gathered to rescue the Allied soldiers trapped within the encirclement.
“Truly, this is the British Empire at its finest.”
Captain Wilhelm Meyer, observing the vessels gathered on the beach through his binoculars, could not help but admire their courage sincerely, even if they were the enemy.
How many would sail their own ships into a battlefield where bullets rained down to rescue their country’s soldiers?
But personal sentiments aside, he was a soldier who lived by orders and died by orders.
Now, he had to fulfill his duty to the best of his ability.
A portion of the French army was still desperately resisting on the outskirts of Dunkirk, but their annihilation was now only a matter of time.
Above all, with the Dunkirk coast visible at a glance as it was now, their resistance was essentially meaningless.
“Company commander, all batteries have completed deployment!”
There was no need for him to designate targets separately.
Because everything sprawled before their eyes was the target.
“Fire!”
At Meyer’s command, six 88mm anti-aircraft guns spat fire.
Immediately after, six explosions erupted on the beach.
The areas where the 88mm shells hit were completely devastated.
Gray smoke rose from the impact points, and dismembered arms and legs, bereft of their owners, lay scattered about.
The soldiers who had been killed instantly were, relatively speaking, the lucky ones.
Soldiers who had lost only their legs or arms writhed and wailed in unbearable agony.
A hell worse than death unfolded.
But this was war.
“Reload! Hurry!”
***
The beach was hell itself.
Under the sudden bombardment, the order that had been maintained until now collapsed, leaving only chaos and terror.
Since it was not an air raid by enemy aircraft, the anti-aircraft gunners could do nothing.
Another bombardment soon struck the ground.
Soldiers scattering in all directions to avoid the shelling vanished amidst the explosions and ensuing smoke.
Where the smoke cleared, only bloodstains and pieces of entrails remained in empty silence.
“Good God! What in the world…!”
I was at a loss for words at the unexpected sight.
Even the sailors, who had been moving about leisurely, looked visibly flustered at the bombardment hitting the beach.
The eyes of everyone aboard the ships were fixed on the beach.
“Could the Germans really be here already?”
No. That can’t be.
Because in the history I know, at least, such a thing never happened.
The Germans had been blocked by Hitler’s halt order on May 24th, forced to sit idle for three days and eight hours, and though they had resumed the attack on the 27th, even then it had proceeded at a snail’s pace.
In the end, the Germans reached Dunkirk only after the evacuation operation was completely finished.
The 340,000 Allied troops who had been on the verge of becoming German prisoners were able to arrive safely in England.
Hitler had consoled himself by insisting he had let them go to negotiate with Britain, but it was recorded as one of Hitler’s worst mistakes, one that had only served to boost British morale.
That was how it was supposed to be…
Shells began flying toward the ships floating on the sea as well.
The enemy seemed to have judged that sinking ships already carrying soldiers was more effective than attacking the soldiers sprawled on the beach.
As several shells fell into the sea, massive columns of water shot up.
Even without taking a direct hit, the ships packed with soldiers quickly lost balance and capsized.
The soldiers who had fallen into the water flailed desperately, crying for help.
But the other ships could not easily approach the soldiers because of the shelling.
A yacht that had been approaching them, braving the shelling to rescue the drowning soldiers, took a direct hit from a shell and was blown to pieces, sinking on the spot.
Human limbs and wooden fragments from the yacht’s hull floated leisurely on the water.
The surviving soldiers swarmed toward the pieces of wood.
As the shelling grew increasingly fierce, more ships abandoned rescue efforts and picked up speed. The idea was to save at least the soldiers currently aboard.
As the ships drifted away one by one, the soldiers on the beach let out screams of despair.
“Come back! You cowards!”
Many soldiers threw themselves into the sea, braving the danger of the bombardment, and swam desperately toward the departing ships.
But the rough waves kept pushing them back toward the beach.
Their coats and military boots, which grew heavy the moment they got wet, also hindered the soldiers.
Many soldiers sank beneath the water without even getting near the ships.
Even after moving far from the beach and into the middle of the sea, the soldiers’ gazes remained turned toward the shore.
The sound of artillery fire never ceased.
***
Until they arrived in England, none of the soldiers aboard the ship opened their mouths.
Everyone was lost in the shocking scene they had witnessed on the beach.
If there was a hell, surely it would look like that.
I was exhausted, but sleep would not come.
When I closed my eyes, the carnage on the beach came to mind. The bombs falling without rest, the explosions, the soldiers’ screams, the capsizing ships, and the ownerless limbs floating on the water’s surface.
And the sight of countless soldiers swimming desperately only to sink in the end…
Scenes I tried to forget but could not.
“Urp…!”
Perhaps because I had witnessed such a terrible sight, my stomach churned with nausea.
Already, some soldiers were leaning over the side, vomiting.
The ship did not reach England until 9 in the evening.
Many people had already gathered at the dock. It seemed they had not yet been informed of what had happened at Dunkirk, for they welcomed us one and all with smiling faces.
People flocked to the soldiers disembarking from the ships, offering blankets and warm tea.
The townspeople’s heartfelt hospitality was a fresh shock to the soldiers whose spirits had been drained by the experience of the hellish battlefield.
“Good to have you back, sirs!”
“Will you have some scones?”
“Come now, have yourselves a warm cup of coffee!”
When I came to my senses, I found that someone had draped a blanket over my shoulders, and in both hands I held steaming hot tea and a scone spread with jam and cream.
The other soldiers were in similar situations.
Having been starved for so long, the soldiers did not refuse the drinks and food offered by the townspeople.
The sweet scent of the scone reached my nose, and I too lost my senses, devouring it in the blink of an eye.
Looking around, everyone was so busy swallowing scones and drinking tea that they had no thought for anything else.
Once food entered my stomach, I finally felt like I might live.
Then a lieutenant colonel in a smart uniform appeared and led us away, escorting us to the station.
A train was already waiting at the station to take us to the inland barracks.
“Everyone line up and board! Board!”
I boarded the train and took a seat by the window.
Ships were constantly entering the harbor.
I watched the townspeople welcoming the returning soldiers and fell into thought.
If those people knew what had happened on the beach, would they still be able to smile as they did now?
Thinking that made my heart feel heavy.
“What are you thinking so hard about?”
“Ah, it’s nothing, Sergeant. I just wanted to see a bit of the outside scenery.”
Surprised by Sergeant Gates’ question, the first words he had spoken since boarding the ship, I waved my hands dismissively.
But Sergeant Gates’ face did not look very well.
“I thought I had become sufficiently accustomed to cruel sights, but I suppose I still have a long way to go. Ever since earlier, I just can’t seem to forget what I saw on that beach.”
It seemed he had been thinking the same thing as me.
I could fully understand what he was saying.
Because I felt the same way.
About ten minutes after the train departed, he was fast asleep. With the tension leaving his body, he could no longer hold back the flood of sleepiness.
Adam and the other company members were all snoring away as well.
It seemed I was the only one awake in the long train car.
I could not easily fall asleep, worried about what was to come.
For now, I had survived and arrived safely in England, so I would be safe for a while, but what about after that?
I could not predict what would happen.
Especially since our forces had been attacked at Dunkirk, what impact would this have on the war? Would the government indeed try to continue the war?
That fellow Churchill was an anti-Nazi to the bone, so he would unconditionally try to continue the war.
But the people?
What sort of reaction would the British people show?
Even after the tragedy at Dunkirk became known, would the people continue to support the government, or would they cry out against it?
That was what I was most curious about.
Because my future would also depend on that.
***
The evening of May 29, 1940.
Churchill received a report from Admiral Ramsay announcing that Operation Dynamo had officially ended.
The evacuation operation had suffered a great blow from the German bombardment that had struck the coast from 3 PM on the 28th.
However, the operation had continued even while the bombardment raged.
Soldiers had endured the shells falling overhead and trudged toward the beach, and ships had braved danger to rescue them.
Thanks to such heroic acts, approximately 135,000 troops were able to escape safely to England.
Ninety-eight percent of the troops who successfully escaped were British, and the remaining two percent were French. (There had been Belgian troops on the beach as well, but it appeared none had succeeded in escaping.)
On the morning of the 29th, the last French forces desperately defending the perimeter of the encirclement surrendered, and German armored units rushed onto the beach, sweeping up the Allied troops who had remained, unable to evacuate in time.
The report contained no detailed figures regarding how many of the troops left on the beach had been killed or wounded.
However, one certain fact was that the 200,000 troops who had failed to withdraw were all killed or taken prisoner by the Germans.
This was an unchanging fact, and the truth.
That night, Churchill got thoroughly drunk.
He had always prided himself on expecting the worst and being ready to accept it at any moment, but when that worst-case scenario actually arrived, he could not endure it without alcohol.
The Dunkirk evacuation, which would later be recorded by historians as “one of the worst moments in British history,” came to an end.
Summer was near.
But for the French, and for the British, it was the beginning of a long winter.