Dave Dawson at Dunkirk

by Robert Sidney Bowen

"Where are you headed, lad?" he asked.

"St. Omer," Dave said. "We've got the last load of wounded from the Lille hospital."

"Well, you can't take them to St. Omer," the officer said. "A mile up ahead there's a road to the right. Take it and keep going until you're stopped. Whoever stops you will give you further directions. All right, off with you. Good luck."

"But, hey, why not St. Omer?" Dave blurted out. "We've been taking them there all day."

"I know," the officer said in a half angry and half bored voice. "But they've all been evacuated again. To Dunkirk. Hitler's lads are in St. Omer, now. Better hop it. They may be here, soon."

Dave slammed the ambulance into gear and started off. Raging anger surged up within him. He gripped the bucking wheel until his hands hurt. Nazis are here! Nazis are there! Nazis are every place! Even thinking of the name made him want to start screaming and shouting at the top of his voice. He turned his head slightly and took a quick side glance at Freddy. The English youth's chin was firm, and there was the same defiant look in his eyes. However, the droop of his shoulders spoke plainly of the bitter thoughts that were sweeping through his mind. Impulsively Dave let go a hand from the wheel for a second and slapped Freddy on the knee.

"Don't let it get you down, Freddy," he said. "They'll trim the stuffing out of Hitler before it's over."

"Of course," Freddy said in a heavy voice. "I wasn't thinking of that. If we could only have reached General Caldwell sooner."

"Gosh, we did our best!" Dave exploded. "And, besides, the General told us it helped plenty. Gee, I hope he just wasn't kidding us. I don't think so, though. A man like General Caldwell doesn't kid, I bet. Well, here's the road. Wonder where it'll take us."

They had reached the turn off. So had some Stukas a couple of hours before and they had marked it well with a cluster of bomb craters. Dave had to detour through a field to make the turn but he managed to get back onto the road. To his vast relief he found it hardly touched by bombs and he was able to speed up the ambulance. The good road helped his spirits, too. It boosted them up considerably and a lot of his fatigue fell away from him. The same was true with Freddy. The English youth continued to stare fixedly through the windshield at the glow of the headlights on the road, but his body seemed to straighten up, and there was a less depressed air about him.