Captain Ashdown called me to him.
“You’re to come with me, Khan,” he said. “Bring Private Ahmad too. I need you to act as messengers. Once we know we have a ship, you’ll guide the men towards it. Clear?”
I nodded as Mush pulled a face, so Captain Ashdown explained in Punjabi.
“Okay,” he said in English. “All good, sir!”
The captain nodded.
“Come on,” he said. “There’s much to get done.”
We made our way along the road, as the going was easier than by beach. Ahead of us lay a canal that surrounded the port, but we did not need to cross it. Out destination was the long jetty, and the boats close by it. By now, the number of boats had grown, and some of them were small enough to come closer to the beach. One, a decrepit old tugboat seemed to be grounded. The crew were abandoning ship and wading towards the beach. Fifty or so men passed them in the opposite direction, and when they reached the tug, they boarded it.
“It won’t go anywhere,” Mush told me. “It is completely stuck.”
A sudden air attack made us flatten ourselves against a wall, as the hundreds of men around us ducked. Four Stukas peppered the area with bullets and hit numerous targets, before a small bomb landed on the beached tugboat. It exploded into flame, and I heard the screams of burning men and looked away, only to see more devastation ahead.
Three large bombs landed close together around the port. Huge torrents of water, maybe forty feet high, exploded into the air and lethal debris flew in all directions. A section of the docks creaked and groaned, and then fell away, landing on the desperate men in the water below.
“Move on!” Captain Morrow ordered. “We must keep going!”
We got to within a quarter-mile of the jetty, when the situation grew even worse. Within seconds the skies seemed to darken with German planes – Heinkels, Messerschmitts and those dreaded Stukas with their awful whining. They concentrated on the section of beach nearest the port, where the largest mass of troops had gathered, wading out to sea and waiting to be recused. Bomb after bomb fell on those poor souls, and yet they continued to push on, whether through hope or resignation. It was hard to tell. I turned to Captain Ashdown.
“We cannot board from there, sir,” I told him. “There are too many already waiting.”
“Noted, Khan,” he replied.
He held up his hand.
“Rest a moment,” he said. “Morrow, any ideas?”
Captain Morrow surveyed the scene and did not speak for a while.
“We could try praying, John,” he joked. “There’s nothing else to do.”
The largest vessels were a mile out to sea and could not come any closer. The smaller boats and dinghies were being crowded by the men already in the water. With no other way out to the rescue boats, we were stuck again.
“There has to be a way!” said Captain Ashdown.
I looked east for some reason, away from our intended destination, and saw something amazing happening. A few hundred yards away, some of the men were driving or pushing abandoned and partially-destroyed vehicles towards the water. The first in line drove into the sea and continued until his supply truck was submerged up to its doors. Then, he jumped out and called more men to him. Together, they pushed the vehicle further and further until only its roof could be seen. The driver clambered on top and began to wave his arms.
A second truck was manoeuvred in the same fashion, and then a third, much taller supply truck passed them, before it too was pushed into the line by ten soldiers, with an eleventh on the roof until he was half-submerged himself.
“A gangway!” I shouted. “They’re using vehicles to build a gangway!”
“Whatever are you…?” began Captain Ashdown, only for the sight to leave his speechless.
“Good God!” said Captain Morrow. “That’s ingenious!”
“We must help,” I told them. “We would gain their trust and they might help us too.”
Captain Ashdown nodded.
“You might just be right, Khan,” he said, giving me a warm smile. “Come along!”
We ran towards the men, and when they saw two captains, they saluted and pointed back towards the road, where countless vehicles had been left under fire.
“If it drives, bring it here,” said one of the men, whose front teeth were missing. “Even if it’s falling apart. It all helps!”
“Anything that don’t move, grab some men and get them to push it along,” said another.
“But we’ll never create a mile-long jetty,” said Captain Morrow.
“We don’t need to, sir,” said the second man. “We just need the larger vessels to spot us and send rowing boats and dinghies our way. They’re too busy concentrating on the port area to see us. We need to attract their attention.”
“The coastal shelf here is very gradual,” Captain Ashdown added. “We should be able to get at least halfway, with enough help.”
“But the tallest vehicle is already under water,” Captain Morrow pointed out.
“No problem, sir,” said the second man. “We’ll collect tables and oil drums, planks and supply boxes and the like. Anything we can use to create a platform on top of the vehicles. That’ll raise us high enough.”
Captain Ashdown glanced at Captain Morrow.
“It’s worth a shot,” he said.
“Absolutely.”
Morrow turned to me.
“Redirect the men this way – all haste!”
I nodded, then Mush and I went to carry out his order.
“Bring any drivers first and see if you can gather some British chaps too – the more, the merrier!”
“Yes, sir!” I yelled.
We worked for a few hours, through the continued German attack, and despite being cold and wet. By the time we stopped, over two hundred men lay exhausted on the sand, and another three hundred stood on the makeshift jetty or in the water around it. Further along, others had seen what was happening and begun their own impromptu piers.
“Terribly clever idea, Private,” said Captain Ashdown, as we stood resting at the water’s edge. “Well done.”
“Name’s Cooper, sir,” said the second man from earlier. “Vince to me mates.”
He was short and stocky with wide shoulders and strong hands. His uniform was torn and shabby, and his boots had holes in them.
“Well, Vince,” Captain Ashdown replied. “I hope your seniors appreciate your ingenuity.”
Private Cooper shrugged.
“We’re on our own, sir,” he replied. “Haven’t seen an officer in two days. They told us to head for the beaches and get back to Blighty any way we could. There’s me and twelve others. The rest are either missing or dead.”
Captain Ashdown nodded.
“Well, we’re here now, Private,” he told him. “And protocol dictates that I assume command over you and your men. We can’t have leaderless troops.”
“Absolutely, sir!” said Cooper.
“I’ve got a full complement of four hundred Indian service corps with me,” the Captain explained. “You and your fellows can join us.”
Private Cooper nodded, then smiled at me.
“Private Fazal Khan,” I said, holding out a hand which he shook. “RIASC.”
“Vince,” said Private Cooper. “No need for the formalities, my friend.”
A German fly-past made us duck in unison.
“Crafty Germans!” said Vince. “You’d think they’d get bored and buzz off!”
“No chance of that,” I replied. “Not until nightfall.”
“Well,” he said. “We’d better try and attract some attention. You ready to test out our jetty?”
I nodded and pulled Mush towards me.
“Private Ahmad,” I said. “My best friend.”
Vince and Mush shook hands, and then we clambered onto the makeshift jetty. One of Vince’s comrades came too, carrying sticks onto which strips of tablecloth had been tied. They were chequered red and white, and fluttered in the breeze.
“Afternoon chaps!” said the man. He was a giant, at least six feet four, with thick black stubble and extremely hairy spade-like hands.
“This is Private Milligan,” said Vince. “He’s a bit of a hairy Herbert, but a good bloke with it.”
A trident of Messerschmitts whizzed by overhead, and a few bullets creased the water barely ten feet away. We waited to see if they would return, but they moved on to bigger targets. Then, with a deep breath and a silent prayer, the four of us edged our way out.