The Beach – a Remembrance Day story about the Dunkirk evacuation, 1940

Everything was going wrong for William when he arrived at Dunkirk with the rest of his regiment. If Hell had a beach, then he was standing on it now. The whole seafront was a mass of defeated, tired, dispirited soldiers. The British and French armies had been soundly beaten, pushed back to the coast by the Germans- and thousands of young men in khaki and blue were now trapped on this long sandy beach, waiting to be either killed, captured or possibly rescued if they were lucky. William was only 16. Was he going to die?

The harbour was out of action, so hundreds of smaller boats had bravely sailed over from England to ferry the soldiers out to the larger ships that could take them back across the Channel to safety. The defeated servicemen, British and French together, were queuing up in long lines stretching down into the water, out into the shallows where they could be picked up. William stood in line, waiting.

Another German plane flew overhead firing at the lines of men, and everyone dived for cover in the sand. When it had gone, they all took their place in the queue again. Soon, William was standing ankle-deep in the water. As his line shuffled forward, cold waves were soon lapping round his waist. More boats came. He was near the front. Would he make it? There was a great big soldier standing in front of him, a Guardsman. Another boat came. ‘We can take fifteen men!’ shouted a sailor. One by one, the exhausted soldiers in front were pulled out of the water into the boat. William was nearly there! Would they take him? The big soldier in front was just climbing in.

‘That’s all!’ shouted the sailor at William. ‘Any more, and we’ll sink! You’ll have to wait! Wait? William couldn’t stand it anymore. Suddenly, he felt small and frightened and lost – and started to cry. Then he heard a big splash beside him. He was being lifted up by big strong arms, out of the water, into the boat. It was the big soldier who’d been in front, the Guardsman, who was now back in the water. He had given up his place.

‘You go first, son’ he said, gently. The boat turned away, leaving him and the queue behind. William never saw him again. 

(based on a reminiscence by a Dunkirk veteran)

In Memory of all those who paid the price.

This week's news for Lent

For someone who hasn’t been reading the papers at all this week because of a ‘Lenten fast’, and only half-listened to the radio instead, it’s been a bit disorientating. What have you all been doing with the world whilst my back was turned? Come on, shape up, and start taking some responsibility for yourself. I can’t do this stuff all on my own.

Advent 2015- Welcome to the Palace!

Welcome everybody to the Palace of Glittering Delights.

It's all new, there'll be all sorts of goodies appearing over the next few weeks and months. And the pictures will change. Promise.

Feel free to borrow and use any of this material- but if republishing it, please credit me ('Chris Hudson'), and say where it came from, too- I want the followers! If it's for anything more than sharing something amongst a few friends, remember it's always good manners to ask first. And naturally, if you want to use it for anything involving a financial return, do get in touch, and I'm sure we can come to some arrangement. Or I will hunt you down in Christian love.

In the meantime, as our country prepares to decide on adding to the joy of the Middle East even further... a poem.

Advent 2015

As jets are fuelled and armed and parked

Resembling shoals of hungry sharks

Their pilots briefed, with cameras set

For download on the internet

Their targets dig with spades and hands

Dark tunnels deep beneath the sands.

Whilst headline writers set their type

With overflowing clichéd hype

Proclaiming this will serve our cause

And force our enemies to pause…

Some refugees plod further West

In search of somewhere safe to rest

For Bethlehem is burning down

A sacrifice for Herod’s crown.