- Contributed byÌý
- Povety
- People in story:Ìý
- Edward Lewis Morris
- Location of story:Ìý
- Dunkirk
- Background to story:Ìý
- Royal Air Force
- Article ID:Ìý
- A2275076
- Contributed on:Ìý
- 08 February 2004
My brother, Edward Lewis Morris, was conscripted just before the outbreak of WW2. He joined the RAF as a MT driver and quiet rapidly became a Corporal. As the British forces withdrew to Dunkirk, he (with others, of course) was given the task of remaining behind as long as possible to destroy as many cars, lorries, troop-carriers, weapons and other supplies as possible.
By the time no more vehicles were coming to their centre, he and the other three men still remaining went to the beaches at Dunkirk. They decided there wasn't a chance of getting off the beaches at that late stage and agreed to walk together to the south of France. The walked by night and hd in woods and in the standing, growing crops by night. They seemed to live largely by pulling and eating growing root crops and ripening standing corn.
They eventually reached Marsailles (which I would like someone else to spell properly!!) and hung about the docks for several days getting an understanding of what was going on. They then approached the French crew of a coastal coal boat whom they had followed to a bar but hese men were not at all sympathetic to their situation. I think they thought these frenchmen intended reporting them to the police who, I think, would either have interned them or handed them over to the Germans in the north of France. I am not too sure whether they actually killed these men or whether they just took their boat - I think that at 10 years of age I was too young to be told any nasty details at this juncture of the story - but the next day they set sail in the coal boat to round Gibralta and get to England. None of the 4 men had any knowledge of handling a boat but despite having been viewed by a German submarine for a few minutes at omne stage, they did eventually arrive in the south of England and report their arrival to the RAF.
My mother and father were then told that their son, whom they had been told was missing and probably taken prisoner or was possibly even dead, was in fact alive and well and in England. I remember him coming home on leave shortly afterwards.
His next posting was to Rhodesia where he spent a few restful months before being sent to Burmah to work supplying the Chindits with supplies from the air but that is another story.
© Copyright of content contributed to this Archive rests with the author. Find out how you can use this.