During that night and at first light the shelling intensified and proved uncannily accurate, putting some of the dockside cranes out of action. These had been operated by French civilians who had largely disappeared. It was said afterwards that the German artillery had been in telephonic communication with Fifth Column observers in the town, who reported the accuracy of the shelling over the civilian telephone service. I was woken abruptly at 4.30 am and summoned to help transfer wounded to the Ben Lawers from the hospital train which had moved alongside the quay from the marshalling yard. The men had been wounded in Belgium and had been in the train some days, being shunted this way and that to avoid the German advance.
The Ben Lawers was a medium-sized cargo ship which, with the Kohistan, had brought in the Queen Victoria Rifles and their vehicles and ammunition, as yet only half off-loaded. When I first emerged from the stuffy cellar and instinctively sniffed the fresh salt air I was met with, for me, a new and very unpleasant smell. It was the smell of scorched flesh, coming from the corpses of men who had received direct hits on the quayside. For the unloading of the hospital train it was a question of pairing off with someone, going into the train (which also stenched heavily) and carrying to the ship a wounded man on his stretcher. Very soon all the available space below decks was full, and stretchers had to be arranged on the open decks.
Shelling had become, for some reason, less heavy, and I can remember standing by the rail of the Ben Lawers, looking down on the quay at the heaps of covered corpses and a mass of kit and equipment abandoned by troops who had left previously. I had at last improved my personal armament by picking up an abandoned rifle with which I was comfortably familiar, and my main concern now was to be aboard the ship and not on the quay when the moment came to pull out. This happened at 6.30 am, which was the latest the ship could make it out of the harbour on the falling tide. My relief when I felt the gentle slow movement of the ship from the quay was overwhelming – but clouded by a sense of the great disaster in which I had been involved.
Meanwhile British Expeditionary Force troops who had been engaged with the enemy in Belgium were still some way from the coast, Captain R. Leah among them:
From the Diary of Captain R. Leah, 1st Battalion, Queen’s Own Cameron Highlanders :
Friday 24th May
Left embussing point about 3 a.m. Had a traffic jam, my bus ditched, then convoy behind went astray and I lost the convoy in front. Fortunately all transport seemed to be going to the same place. Roads full of traffic but no sign of enemy aircraft. Passed through la Bassee, which had been heavily bombed shortly before, and arrived at Bde Dispersal Point. Indian War Memorialf about 8 a.m.
Reached Bn. area 9 a.m. Violaines near Festubert. Cpl Cameron already there, and he had done the “billeting” Coy arrived about an hour later. C.S.M. very annoyed they had gone wrong and fetched up in Armentieres.
Most of the day spent in resting for the Company except party on Coy Rd Block. Nothing very exciting today and we had orders to move tonight in troop carriers, to Estaires. Started quite early but did not arrive till after 2 a.m.
[Entry No.15, for the first entry see 10th May 1940]
See TNA WO 217/15