We recently took a day to visit the Northern France town of Dunkerque. I have been reading Joshua Levine’s book about the evacuation of the trapped allied troops during 9 days in early 1940.
We have passed near it many times as we arrive in Calais and seamlessly join the A26 to Reims. This time we planned a little diversion so as to see for ourselves the long stretch of beach where the 300,000 men and women were encircled and amazingly were rescued.
Coming off the motorway we turned into Dunkerque centre and our GPS showed that we were just a few meters from our hotel when we found ourselves prevented from continuing by a ‘Route Barré‘ sign. After navigating various backstreets we arrived in Rue du Leughenaer named after the oldest building in the town, a tower said to have been built to lure boats onto the sandbanks so the townsfolk could rob them.
The next morning after a good sleep and breakfast, we found the Dunkerque 1940 museum. There were lots of displays and artefacts and even a car packed with what a family considered the essentials when fleeing a coming invasion by enemy troops. Would they really put their mattress on the roof and also their small son’s pedal car? It makes you think what your own first response would be if in a similar situation.
Among the many dummies dressed in the uniforms of soldiers, artillery men, naval officers etc.,I was glad to see the Senegalese also represented. ‘Senegalese’ covers men from almost any French Colony in Africa as they all embarked from Senegal. Their history is often erased by French historians although they played significant roles in both the First World War and also the Second. The memorial to colonial troops in our city leaves aside any information about numbers although a tour round a French First World War cemetery will show that many of the names are of African origin and the initials of their regiments such as RIC indicate for example Régiment d’infanterie Coloniale .
Some exhibits prompted thoughts such as, ‘hand grenades are smaller than I thought’ and ‘How clever to give soldiers a piece of highly polished tin to use as an unbreakable mirror’.
I am always pleased to see examples of spiritual input, as I know that in the First World War small pocket sized gospels were given to the embarking troops by padres. We saw examples of them in the Vimy Ridge Canadian Museum. The idea was taken up in the Second World War and specially printed editions of the gospel of John were given to every soldier in which there was a preface written by his majesty the king. I know because my father was given one that is now in my possession. One example in this museum was the first of a list of titles published by the YMCA (Young Men’s Christian Association) of educational booklets for them to make use of while in prisoner of war camps. Only the first was featured in Dunkirk, its subject was Agriculture.
No mention was made of the call to prayer by King George VI in a radio speech delivered on May 24, 1940, calling for a National Day of Prayer. “At this fateful hour, we turn, as our fathers before us have turned in all times of trial, to God Most High. Here in the old country, I have asked that Sunday next be observed as a day of national prayer.… Let us with one heart and soul, humbly but confidently, commit our cause to God and ask His aid … With God’s help we shall not fail.” The miracle was that although an estimated 30,000 could possibly be saved, if fact ten times that number, 335,000, were rescued.
Leaving the museum we walked to the beach which is long and wide and backed by dunes. The wind was strong and it was a cold November day. The next stop would be a nice café for a light lunch before returning home. Our car was parked by the museum so we asked inside where to go. Place Jean Bart was suggested which was the old centre with pleasant architecture.
We were on route when again we were faced with a ‘Route Barré‘, never mind, I had a town centre map in my hand but Dunkerque is criss-crossed by canals and the river making ‘U’ turns difficult. Further on was another ‘Route Barré’ and we had crossed the canal into the Basse Ville’ . Instead of finding the train station and free parking we drove though the bus station, facing oncoming buses!
Place Jean Bart was signposted , then it wasn’t and we had another ‘Route Barré’. ‘Look there is a MacDonalds in a modern shopping centre with a carpark’, – easy to enter and easy to find food.
We never saw the old centre, we didn’t eat at a pavement café. We saw enough to make us think we might visit again. We need to rewatch the film by Christopher Nolan who, according to the book I am reading, did a good job at portraying the conditions and emotions of 300,000 plus trapped in the town. Our being trapped and having to replan our routes was nothing compared with the experiences of that multitude of British, French, and colonial soldiers, sailors, airmen, and nurses faced with barred routes during those few days over 80 years ago.
