Dunkirk

A hatred of war does not necessarily make you a coward.

They came from a line of fishermen,

Way back, two hundred years,

The sons of a dour old Kentish man,

Who'd braved the First World War;

When Joe went off to the Army, then,

The old man's face was grim,

'You go and fight for the country, lad,

We can't rely on him!'

 

He scowled on down at the eldest lad

Who sat there, mending nets,

For all he knew was the salt, the sea

And a life of cheap regrets.

The black sheep of the family

Was all that his father saw,

For Jack had refused the Army call:

'I don't believe in war!'

 

A feather came in the post next day,

As white as a cotton sheet,

The father turned his back on him

For shame, and refused to speak.

While Joe went off with the B.E.F.

To help the beleaguered French,

Jack was mending his fishing nets,

And sat with his fingers clenched.

 

Their fishing boat, the Pelican,

Lay stranded in Sandwich Bay,

Just twenty feet, and clinker built,

With the deckhouse cut away.

When the Panzers swept down to the coast,

Reaching the channel first,

The B.E.F. had retreated back

To the beaches at Dunkirk.

 

The Navy sent destroyers then,

Their frigates and corvettes,

But couldn't get close to the beaches there

Because of the shallow depths,

The Navy's own small vessel pool

Then called for the help of those

Whose boats were a certain shallow draught

To ferry the soldiers home.

 

When Jack came in, the news was out,

His mother sat, dismayed,

The Army was stranded along the beach

Where Joe lay low, and prayed.

The Stuka's screamed, and dropped their bombs

And the lines of men were strafed,

Three hundred thousand men despaired

As the Panzers lay in wait.

 

'So much for you,' the father said,

As the tears poured down his cheek,

'So much for the lunacy of war,'

Said Jack, when he could speak.

'Your brother's out there, risking all,

My son, my shining light!'

But Jack stalked out with a bitter laugh,

And cried, when out of sight.

 

He strode on out to the Pelican,

The tide was coming in,

He dragged and pushed it to meet the sea

As he floated it again,

He kicked the inboard into life

And he sailed for Ramsgate then,

The boats were gathering by the score

To save their countrymen.

 

They sailed that night in convoys, groups,

And lines of little boats,

While Jack prayed long at the tiller

That the Pelican stayed afloat,

She'd never been out as far as this,

She was just a coastal craft…

But Joe stood out in the water, then,

And thought of his brother, Jack.

 

The Stuka's bombed the Naval ships,

They strafed the lines of men,

Joe didn't know if he'd ever get back

To his homeland, once again.

The Foudroyant was bombed and sank,

A destroyer ran aground,

Then a hundred boats, with the Pelican,

Finally sighted land.

 

Jack took the Pelican close inshore

And he loaded his twenty men,

He ferried them out to a waiting ship

Then turned to the shore again,

He plucked the men from the waters there

And he looked for his brother Joe,

But Joe was safe on a steamer, then,

Though his brother didn't know.

 

For hours he turned, and turned about,

He saved five hundred lives,

He worked himself to exhaustion there

Like a man who the devil drives,

Eight hundred ships and boats were there

In the smoke and the swirling murk,

To bring those thousands of soldiers home

From the beaches of Dunkirk.

 

Joe walked unsteadily through the door

To the cries of his folks, alone,

They couldn't speak for the pure relief

Of seeing him safe at home,

But his father suddenly pulled away,

And wept, while turning his back,

'We've just been told by the foot patrol…

We've lost your brother, Jack!'

 

'They said the Pelican's hull was holed

With a burst of cannon rounds,

The men on board were saved, I heard,

But three of them were drowned.

They left the bodies to float out there;

Oh God; now, what have I done?'

He shook his head as he cried, and said,

'I've lost my eldest son!'

 

They placed a plaque on the Harbour wall

For Jack and the Pelican,

While the father stared most days to sea

As he cried there, off and on,

Then he took a match and some tinder wood

For a pledge he'd made before,

To burn a pure white feather there

For a son who hated war.

 

David Lewis Paget

Reviews

[David Scott]

The lesson is refined by the delivery within your art form.
The reader knows what will happen intuitively, yet the unfolding of the story is spooned out on perfect proportions to stir the appetite while feeding the mind.
A great story!
Would there were more white feathers in this world.

[Coyote Poetry]

A sad story. All of us have them to hold and live with.
"Then he took a match and some tinder wood
For a pledge he'd made before,
To burn a pure white feather there
For a son who hated war."
The above lines left me with sadness and my own thoughts. Thank you my friend for sharing your powerful and amazing poetry and story.
Coyote

[emmajoy]

Tis hard to find the right words for this epic tale of war and the way it can rip at hearts, personal ethics and family, David. Would you please forgive me for merely wiping away a flood of tears whilst adding, "For every reason literay, morally and emotionally, this is Brilliant.. ''

[R Smith]

a marvelous story David, the tales of so called cowards during war time are well known, not so well known are the men who joined up with the red cross and saved lives and gave their own in the midst of battles, such is the bravery of men who may hate war but have more courage than many others who accused them as cowards, excellent work my friend :)

[Saddam]

A history and historical write.
Great read.

[Terrence Chang]

Great story of the history. I am glad that I came to this page David

[Einstein Noodle]

reading your poem and feeling its story steeped in history quite truly put a big lump in my throat and tear to my eye .. if one's time for courage appears ... we must respond or be forever lost in doubts and fear .. there is a place for all persuasions in the fight against evil malice and oppression .. another keeper sir!
E.

[Confuser]

You sir are a phenomenal writer. I was impressed by the details of history, the vivid imagery, the symbolism - the power in every single word you wrote...it would be impossible for me to quote only one line in this fantastic, powerful writing. I was completely awestruck...such an engaging writing...I found myself stopping several times to absorb the impact; I have to say, it has been awhile since I have read a poem so thought provoking.....A hatred of war doesn't necessarily make you a coward. Very well done indeed....I so look forward to reading more of your work! Bravo...Thank you so very much...Dale

[♔ CrownedDevil &#..]

I love the story within this poem. Every verse had me hooked till the last line, amazing write. Nicely penned.

[Marie]

This is one of yours I must have missed, because I don't find my review on here. But I would have said what the others say. The very word "Dunkirk" is inspiring...

[alf]

Hi David. Now you have me!!! I love more than anything else, an epic in rhymed verse. This is just so well told, almost an unbelievable find on this site. Your words carry so much conviction and as you near the end, grief lurks behind every word. Wonderful, alf