fully loaded with coal; however they had cleverly cleared a space and built a sort of shelter, covered by the coal and a large tarpaulin, making it look as though it was all part of the cargo.
In there, Jack and I found the rest of our crew and the Captain. The barge-master spoke to the priest, who came in to say his goodbyes to us, shaking hands with us all and wishing us luck. The boats, diesels, were already idling; and almost as soon as the priest had left us we felt movement as the barge got under way. It was fairly dark in our hideaway but we felt ourselves into comfortable positions.
“Is this better than the tomb then Fish?” I asked, beginning to relax a little.
“Blinking anythink is better than that tomb, Bomb! I hated it, but this is like home to me, back on a boat at last, even if it is only a flipping barge!”
We heard the Captain fiddling about and I wondered what he was doing I didn’t have to wonder for long, the flame of his lighter illuminated our surroundings, as he lit a cigarette.
“I don’t believe this!” I said as I used both hands to snatch the cigarette and the lighter from him. “Bombardier how dare you?” he shouted.
“Sir,” I replied “are you trying to blow us all up? Don’t you know how inflammable coal dust is?”
“Inflammable … consider yourself under open arrest. I’m putting you on a charge of insubordination; now give me that lighter this instant!”
I did nothing, waiting to see what he would do next.
“Don’t make me draw my pistol Bombardier.” said the Captain, we could hear him fiddling about in the dark.
“Permission to speak Sir?” said Ronny.
After the Captain had given him permission Ronny in his best conciliatory tones, suggested that using the pistol might draw attention to us and that as an alternative he and the rest of the crew could put me under close arrest once we had left the barge. The Captain agreed to this but told Ronny to get the lighter back for him. Ronny asked me to pass it to him, however as I put my hand towards him he told the Captain that he’d dropped it in the dark, he wasn’t to know that I hadn’t even attempted to hand it over to Ronny.
Everything settled down again eventually, a silence descended over us. I don’t think any of us wanted to speak, for fear of starting the Captain off again. After some time the tarpaulin was pulled back and the barge-master came into our hideaway. He had a big jug of hot coffee and some cups that he handed over to Harry and Jack. He spoke to Ronny, who in turn told us that we were making good speed.
We drank the coffee and settled down again, now we could hear the sound of bombing with shellfire in the distance. À quick peek out from under the tarpaulin showed a distant horizon being lit up by flashes from intermittent explosions.
Much later we felt, rather than saw, the barge slowing down and eventually stop with a few slight bumps, which I assumed were when it pulled into the wharf.
After a few minutes we heard footsteps and the barge-master pulled back the tarpaulin and with a small hand-torch, he gestured for us to follow him.
“vous et ici, vite, vite!” we all knew enough French to know what he meant. We grabbed our few belongings and followed him through the coal and out of the hold.
He turned off the torch, put his head up, out of the hatch, looked around and then went up on deck again, indicating that we should follow him. He led us to a plank, spanning the gap between the barge and the land, wished us ‘bonne chance’, and as each of us jumped ashore he gave us all an encouraging pat on the back…
We slipped into the shadows and watched as he went into his wheelhouse, no doubt relieved to have completed his task.
Quickly we walked away putting a safe distance between us and the barge. Eventually we entered a short tunnel and as we got towards the end we took the opportunity for a rest, we all crouched down looking out towards Dunkirk. In the distance, the night
In there, Jack and I found the rest of our crew and the Captain. The barge-master spoke to the priest, who came in to say his goodbyes to us, shaking hands with us all and wishing us luck. The boats, diesels, were already idling; and almost as soon as the priest had left us we felt movement as the barge got under way. It was fairly dark in our hideaway but we felt ourselves into comfortable positions.
“Is this better than the tomb then Fish?” I asked, beginning to relax a little.
“Blinking anythink is better than that tomb, Bomb! I hated it, but this is like home to me, back on a boat at last, even if it is only a flipping barge!”
We heard the Captain fiddling about and I wondered what he was doing I didn’t have to wonder for long, the flame of his lighter illuminated our surroundings, as he lit a cigarette.
“I don’t believe this!” I said as I used both hands to snatch the cigarette and the lighter from him. “Bombardier how dare you?” he shouted.
“Sir,” I replied “are you trying to blow us all up? Don’t you know how inflammable coal dust is?”
“Inflammable … consider yourself under open arrest. I’m putting you on a charge of insubordination; now give me that lighter this instant!”
I did nothing, waiting to see what he would do next.
“Don’t make me draw my pistol Bombardier.” said the Captain, we could hear him fiddling about in the dark.
“Permission to speak Sir?” said Ronny.
After the Captain had given him permission Ronny in his best conciliatory tones, suggested that using the pistol might draw attention to us and that as an alternative he and the rest of the crew could put me under close arrest once we had left the barge. The Captain agreed to this but told Ronny to get the lighter back for him. Ronny asked me to pass it to him, however as I put my hand towards him he told the Captain that he’d dropped it in the dark, he wasn’t to know that I hadn’t even attempted to hand it over to Ronny.
Everything settled down again eventually, a silence descended over us. I don’t think any of us wanted to speak, for fear of starting the Captain off again. After some time the tarpaulin was pulled back and the barge-master came into our hideaway. He had a big jug of hot coffee and some cups that he handed over to Harry and Jack. He spoke to Ronny, who in turn told us that we were making good speed.
We drank the coffee and settled down again, now we could hear the sound of bombing with shellfire in the distance. À quick peek out from under the tarpaulin showed a distant horizon being lit up by flashes from intermittent explosions.
Much later we felt, rather than saw, the barge slowing down and eventually stop with a few slight bumps, which I assumed were when it pulled into the wharf.
After a few minutes we heard footsteps and the barge-master pulled back the tarpaulin and with a small hand-torch, he gestured for us to follow him.
“vous et ici, vite, vite!” we all knew enough French to know what he meant. We grabbed our few belongings and followed him through the coal and out of the hold.
He turned off the torch, put his head up, out of the hatch, looked around and then went up on deck again, indicating that we should follow him. He led us to a plank, spanning the gap between the barge and the land, wished us ‘bonne chance’, and as each of us jumped ashore he gave us all an encouraging pat on the back…
We slipped into the shadows and watched as he went into his wheelhouse, no doubt relieved to have completed his task.
Quickly we walked away putting a safe distance between us and the barge. Eventually we entered a short tunnel and as we got towards the end we took the opportunity for a rest, we all crouched down looking out towards Dunkirk. In the distance, the night
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