R. N. Irving’s La Panne and Dunkirk Launch Account

H.M.S. Wildfire Sheerness. 2.6.40. Dear Commander Fletcher, I have taken part in the evacuation of our troops at La Panne and Dunkirk. I was put in charge (30 minutes notice) of 13 motor boats and ordered to get them, if possible, from Sheerness to Ramsgate, Wednesday last in the morning – 29.5.40. I got them to Ramsgate (less one) and within 1½ hours set out with 8 small motor boats (no written instructions and only a vague verbal instruction as to the area in which I could make the Belgian coast). A trawler skipper told me to try and get to the beach just west of La Panne, but he could not say whether our troops would still be there in the morning (Thursday). I set out in the dark at 2100, 29.5.40, with the boats, different sizes and speeds, and had no compass each, but no navigating instruments. Visibility was bad, due to volumes of smoke from the French coast. At 0400, 30.5.40, I got into a position to make La Panne and hoping the British troops were still there I headed for it. Luck was with me, and at 0500 I was alongside the beach and commenced towing boats of troops out to destroyers and one or two trawlers. I had a launch in my flotilla with petrol and paraffin, and I instructed him to distribute it to boats which needed refuelling. This launch of his boat was “The Silver Queen”, and I had a Sub Lieutenant RN in charge of her. I do not know his name even now, but he was splendid. I turned towing and rescuing troops all morning, probably about 1100 or 29.5.40 when alongside a destroyer with troops, a voice hailed me saying “Well done, motor boat, wait for me.” A few minutes later an officer wearing a lambskin coat boarded me and said he would assist me in my work. I believe his name is Commodore Stephens or Stevens, R.N., a great yachting man. About 1½ hours later the same shore batteries found the range to the beach and plastered it all and again. In the afternoon 29.5.40 Commodore Stephens asked me to take him to a “Grand Hotel” and told me he was going to look for Lord Gort, and if he found him I was to take him straight to England in my small boat. I waited on for Commodore Stephens returning, and at 1800 he appeared and boarded me (wading out up to the neck), but he did not mention Lord Gort again. I then went alongside a cruiser (name unknown) and tried to land an Admiral ashore, but although I got well inshore and put him in his own whaler, he did not land – heavy surf. I then got back to his ship and put him aboard, and once more carried on rescuing troops. Air attacks occurred frequently. At about 0200, while trying to pick up a boat heavily loaded with troops, I got (in the dark) into surf and took the ground. At 0300 or 0330, when the Commodore left me to go aboard an M.F.B. which had arrived. 2. Very heavy swell was now running, and sea breaking heavily on the beach at La Panne (Capulo to be exact, or Cupola). At 1230, Friday 31.5.40, terrific bombardment of beach and sea commenced while I was some distance offshore. One of my seamen said “For Christ’s sake, Sir, turn back, look, all the ships have left but one small merchant ship”, I closed her, and told her to follow me. I then followed our ships, now well ahead, along the beach towards Dunkirk. When approaching the eastern beaches near Dunkirk I was shelled by shore batteries. I made out to sea a little and escaped sinking. I was the last man to leave Capulo, excepting the already mentioned merchant ship. Terrific air attack was in progress, bombs all around and shells from shore. I approached the beach and took in tow a very heavily loaded boat of troops. Just then a bomb hit the pleasure steamer ‘Prince of Wales’, of London, I think. I saw four figures alongside the ship in a boat, so I closed her and found two officers severely wounded, with two ratings severely wounded. I said I would board her and search for the remainder of the crew, although she was now well down aft, but the C.O., a Sub. Lt. R.N., said the rest were dead. My crew and myself were now drunk and stupid with exhaustion. My body ached all over and I was almost hoping I would be knocked out to escape my weariness. The lad working the engine was sleeping, the cox was steering anyhow. The C.O. of the “Prince of Wales” proved not to be so badly wounded, although covered with blood, and he volunteered to take the wheel back to the Sloop “Mosquito”. Five minutes later I saw a boat full of soldiers turn over, so I made in amongst them, and in doing so I got a rope round my propeller. I was not loaded with troops and towing two boats. I was not touching the bottom of the surf. With a superhuman effort I got her alongside the “Mosquito”, and landed the wounded soldiers. (I also picked up a soldier swimming towards me about that time stark naked). I boarded “Mosquito” and asked the 1st Lieutenant (it was his grass rope that fouled me) to try and clear the rope. While he did so I want below for a cup of tea. He could not clear it, so I left him and approached a yacht with difficulty and asked her to take me in tow. I was now, with my crew, beyond caring what happened, sore body, exhausted stupid, lost voice. Jut then a bomb, closer than the others, lifted my launch, as it seemed, and shook her. Bombs and shells now all around. I saw splinters falling in the sea feet away. I don’t know if the launch was hit, probably she was. On and off I saw airman dropping from planes by parachute into the sea. I now had quite lost my coice, so I wrote down in paper instructions to one of my seamen to ask the C.O. of the yacht “Caleta” or Galata” to take me in tow. The C.O. of the yacht asked me first to bring him a boatload of troops, as he was without any. I volunteered to do so if I could handle my small motor boat, but requested him to watch me. I approached the shore under heavy shell fire slowly and with difficulty, on one engine, helm now jamming. One of the two hands now only able to keep awake, told me the yacht was signalling me to return: I looked round and saw she was being shelled, so I got back to her and somehow made fast, and boarded the yacht “Galata” with my crew. Unfortunately, the tow rope parted just after getting under way. 3. I asked the C.O. of yacht to go back, but he pointed out he now had troops on board, but he pointed out he now had troops on board, and the area the yacht was in was being heavily bombed, shelled, and asked to be allowed to leave her as she was disabled anyhow. I was exhausted, stupid with hunger, weariness and sore body, and I knew no-one could say I had not done my duty, so we left her. The launch was damaged so badly and was making water in bow, stern and near port holes, but by God, I would have liked to have got her home after what she did. Neither I nor my crew had any food or sleep except a tin of bully beef, one slice of bread each and some tea without sugar, from 0900 Wednesday until 1700 Friday. The yacht GALATA was shelled as we got moving on our way. Two splinter hits. I lay down in the chart house, but within 5 minutes was up to look at Dunkirk harbour and the blazing, smoking, bomb wreaked port. I found I could not eat, and my one thought was if only I could fire 20 rounds at the Huns I would feel happy, and after what I had suffered in my open launch. I had taken shelling and bombing for hours on end, escaped injury, but developed a bitter hatred of the enemy in not being able to reply. I was the only commissioned officer excepting Comodore Stephens who stayed to the last in the launches taking off troops to the ships. Actually I was the last Naval Officer to leave La Panne and my crew asked me to mentioned this fact to someone. I only saw one other commissioned officer in a small Launch (Commander R.N.) doing this work at the Eastern Beaches near Dunkirk, but I may be slightly wrong there. The Commander R.N. came home with me to Sheerness in the yacht GALATA. The SILVER QUEEN much have saved many hundred lives, but my boat the TRITON, I venture to say, at La Panne rescued more troops than any other. I put the figure at 500, 600, 700 and Dunkirk about 100. I actually rescued not less than 20 soldiers from drowning and with my own hands helped haul them aboard. My arms feel as if they had left their sockets and my hands are cut and sore now. I have several bruises on my body and legs and my hip is also sore. I volunteered to return to Dunkrik to-day, Sunday, but have not been called up so far. I handed in a few notes of what I had done to the Commodore here, but I don’t suppose it will get further, although SILVER QUEEN, and he congratulated my work. I append a list of my crew, and if you can get them some slight recognition, Sir, I shall feel for ever indebted to you. I curse and blasted them, but they were splendid under bombs and shell fire, and I have seen my gunlayers in the last war getting the D.S.M. for ever so much less. Please Sir, do try and get something for the following men. There were hundreds of acts of heroism I know, and I can only report what I did and saw, but no 4. men of the Royal Navy worked harder than my men. I drove them at it when they were crying with exhaustion, may God forgive me, for the hell I put them through. Purbrick, Ordinary Seaman, in his exhaustion fell overboard, but I picked him up and he turned to again. I finally put him aboard MOSQUITO suffering from cold and shock, he was a hero, although no seaman. I have written this now, Sir, while I still feel the heat of battle my blood ………………. And I beg of you to try and get me a decent ship, so that I can enguage the enemy and get some of my own back, after my hell in the launch near the beaches under bombs and shell fire. I am happy to have rescued so many soldiers, and it is true they came off through the surf fully equipped, and steady as a rock. One man called on me not to leave him, I then had my voice, and recognised his Scotch accent. I got him Sir, our soldiers are brave men. Many of them thanked me, by word and sign, just a lifting of the hand. The officers I saw were also brave men. I have the honour to be, Sir, Your obedient Servant, R.N. IRVING, Lt., R.N.R.