257359 Lt. James William "Mick" Killeen MID.British Army Royal Army Service Corps from:Leeds Memories of Dunkirk, June 1940 Lieutenant James Killeen, RASC
Recorded, 25th/26th February 2006
I was the Ammunitions Officer at the unit HQ of 1 (Army) Corps Ammunitions Column of 4 Transport Companies of 100-plus vehicles each and a Workshop Company (a lot of road space). My job was to find, load, and supply ammunition as required to the 3 Divisions and Units of 1st Army Corps. Eventually there was no more to find: the Line of Communication had been severed. The aiming point in the retreat was the enormous cloud of thick black smoke to the west from bombed oil tanks at what we came to know as Dunkirk. Nobody then thought of evacuation.
However, we stopped one night about 8/10 miles inland and having no ammunition to think about I loaded our wounded and using my schoolboy French got through the French lines to deliver them to the hospital at La Panne. Horrendous journey back through swarms of demoralized refugees, vehicles, baggage and animals. Found my Unit had moved and all operational companies were busy destroying vehicles and heavy equipment and weapons after which they moved off - each about 300 strong with 7 officers to embark, hopefully, onto ships from the docks in Dunkirk. My CO (an MC from WWI) awaited orders for the HQ Unit. We were directed to go to the beaches at La Panne, good luck and a suave qui peuta.
We marched through the night to arrive early morning to find tide out, ships far distant, the dunes with numerous little groups of 2 - 6 and isolated single soldiers, stragglers detached from their units, but no officers. The incoming tide and the little boats which had to stay a couple of yards out to avoid grounding; an untidy rush from the dunes started. One or two boats got overturned by landlubbers trying to board from the side instead of the stern. The rush reversed direction as a series of Jerry bombers flew low along the tide-line dropping bombs but not machine-gunning! Few casualties. I concluded that their object was to stop any evacuation and take prisoners for future bargaining. However I also thought the bombs burying themselves in the sand and causing minor volcanic eruptions were, short of a direct hit, pretty harmless.
So I left my unit in the dunes and went down and stood in the sea at a point where a pinnace appeared to be aiming. I waved to it, then turned toward the troops lying down in the dunes and yelled-shouted-cajoled-badgered-cursed-ordered them to ignore the bombs and get into a column, - i.e. a queue, and file past me to get into the boat - and subsequent ones - in an orderly and soldier-like way, which they did, and the column kept growing and more boats arrived. Towards midday my own unit joined the column and I embarked the CO, the Adjutant, Medical Officer, Padre, clerks, motorcyclists and all the Officers and Sergeants who infest HQ. I entrusted my driver/orderly with some silk goods bought long ago in Douai to send to my wife just in case, and told the Adjutant I was staying on the beach until a formed unit under an Officer able to take over arrived - meanwhile the best of luck.
Eventually one did, a T.A. Unit of light AA from Yorkshire, and when (in the best movie traditions) I offered the last place in a departing boat to "Any married man with kids" I was given the only mention I could ever want, as a Yorkshire voice called out from the ranks, "You go Sir, you've done enough". The boat pulled away and in trying to reach it I was soon out of my depth, so having shed my pack was greatly relieved to keep afloat swimming until someone grabbed me and hauled me aboard. Further out at sea we climbed rope ladders up the tall side of a flat-bottomed Dutch ship which very soon ran aground and became a sitting target for some unfriendly Stukas. A Destroyer - the W--? came to our rescue alongside. It was rolling about. The scoot was in a poor way so we had to jump the gap which opened and closed between the ships of different heights and many a poor fellow didn't make it. The First Lieutenant on the Destroyer lent me his best pair of trousers while I could dry off in the engine room. Soon afterwards, he was wounded in the buttock! I never knew his name, and I believe the ship was sunk later.
And so to Dover and a well organised reception and dispersal plan.
It is the first time in 60 years I've thought about it and certainly the one and only time it is worth writing about.
Motor cyclists: they used to be the drivers for messages before radio. I had a squad of 6 and always 2 with me. One was taken prisoner, two picked the wrong ship and were drowned at Dunkirk. I got three to England, but only one was ever fit for further service.
My father, Jim Killeen, survived the war, and was promoted to Lieutenant Colonel before the end. He served in Northern Ireland and after D Day went up through France and Belgium to Holland and later into Germany. He was demobbed and went back into teaching, moving to London (Goldsmiths College) and then to Market Weighton in East Yorkshire as headmaster in 1959. He spoke very little about the war, until after my mother died when he shared his Dunkirk experiences, still profoundly moved by the men he left behind, the men who were commanded to defend the embarkation. He died in 2009, aged 96.
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