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My father was a good man, quiet,unassuming but unbelievably compassionate, but fiery when need be, as I found to my peril on many occassions as a youngster. He was that person who would give his last penny, so to speak. My dad, "JACK" (JOHN) known to his friends, or "JONEY" (JONES) to his comrades, served with the 127 Field Ambulance, R.A.M.C at Dunkirk. I remember him telling me about the business of drawing a "short straw"or drawing a name from a hat to be more accurate, for his turn to venture out and hitch a ride on anything afloat, that would transport him from the living hell that was "Dunkirk Beach!" His turn came eventually, and with extreme reluctance to leave his comrades and the casualties, he waded out. He saw his salvation on the horizon and joined the queue,eventually reaching the ships hull, he noticed it being one of our own Navy ships, a bit dated, it was an old paddle steamer,camouflaged. He found some strength through his fear and joy and scaled the side of the ship, reaching out when he reached his summit, a friendly hand, of one of "Her Majesty's own sailors, pulled him aboard.With a sigh my dad asked his new mate the name of the ship. The "Golden Eagle"! he exclaimed.My dad replied "it should be called the "Golden f.....g Angel"!! and looked to the skies in utter,utter relief! Until the the day he died in August 1990 my father never let a day pass without thoughts of his comrades who were left at Dunkirk, it made him the man he was and I am extremely grateful. Love you dad.

My dad discovered a poem with regard to Dunkirk and his comrades,which he considered apt:

BRAY DUNES.

Keep them combined! Else,
Of the Myriads who fill
That Army, not one shall arrive;
Sole shall they stray; in the sands
Flounder for ever in vain,
Die one by one in the waste.
God marshall them: at your voice,
Panic, despair, flee away.
Ye move through the ranks,recall
The straggelers, refresh the outworn,
Praise, re-inspire the brave.
Order, courage, return;
Eyes rekindling, and prayers,
Follow your steps as you go.
Ye fill up the gaps in our files,
Strengthen the wavering line,
Stablish, continue our march,
Into the waves, where grey shapes
Await; distant White Cliffs, beckon!

With love to all my father's comrades.

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