Though not to be compared in magnitude with the magnificent withdrawal from Dunkirk, this evacuation of British forces from the Dieppe coast was marked by heroism every bit as great. The story of how our troops were got away from St. Valery-en-Caux, as told to Mr Douglas Williams of the "Daily Telegraph," is given here in summarized form.


On the Normandy coast, between Dieppe and Fecamp, is the little town of St Valery-en-Caux, clustered on either side of its harbour in a hollow of the cliffs, which here rise up steeply some 150 feet above the beaches. A little way along the coast towards Dieppe is the village of Veules-les-Roses, set in a picturesque valley and having its own tiny beach between two cliffs. Here, on the night of June 12, 1940, were gathered several hundred British soldiers who had managed to evade the Germans when two brigades of the 51st Highland Division were compelled to surrender to the enemy. Some belonged to an R.A.S.C. Petrol Company, and after days of hard driving under heavy shell-fire had reached La Chapelle, 7-8 miles East of St. Valery, on June 10. Orders were given to destroy all vehicles not needed for transport of their own personnel, and to move on to the village of Neville, ten miles South of St. Valery. As the column drove out at midnight, an enemy barrage was creeping up to within 100 yards of the parking place.
After three hours of snail like progress over bad roads in pitch darkness they reached Neville early on June 11th and began to organize the village to resist the enemy. But in the afternoon the car park was located by enemy aircraft, shelled, and set on fire; eleven vehicles were destroyed. All the men escaped there to await the C.O., who, on a bicycle, had gone to report at divisional headquarters. H.Q. had moved, and so the officer returned to Neville, destroyed all petrol supplies there, and made for St. Valery.
At the outskirts of the town he was stopped by heavy shelling, and so turned eastwards in the direction of Veules, hoping that he would come across his men later. On the way he had collected a number of stragglers. At Veules they found themselves on the cliff top, 150 feet or more above the beaches, with no apparent means of descending in safety.
An attempt was made to get through a wood that ran down to the beach, but the enemy was there in force, and a dozen of our men were picked off as they tried in single file to cross a gap. There was nothing for it but to retrace their way to the cliff top, where the party was joined by part of the missing Petrol Company.
It was now well after midnight, and something had to be done quickly if they were not all to be taken like rats in a trap at the coming of daylight. A signaller N.C.O. flashed a message in Morse to ships waiting in the Channel off St. Valery, warning the boats to stand by, while others of the party sought frantically for ropes or other means of descending the steep cliffs.
Pulling up a wire fence, men unwound it and lowered this makeshift "rope" over the cliff edge. They tried to climb down on it, but it broke and several men fell headlong.
Down a Rope of Rifle Slings
There was a windlass standing on the edge c of the cliff, and the men found a wire hawser, which they attached. Some tried to descend this way, but the hawser was greasy and their hands slipped, so that more fell to the bottom. Then someone thought of their rifle slings. These were made of very stout webbing, and if they could be joined securely might furnish a lifeline by which the men could reach the beach below. By reef knots and the use of the stout brass clips at the ends the slings were fashioned into a "rope" and it was tested. It held, and for seven long hours it stood the strain while all the party at the cliff top slid down gingerly.


The day was well advanced before the Commanding Officer, last of them to descend made his way down to the beach, but mercifully there was a projecting piece of cliff that seems to have hidden the entire scene from the Germans near by. Not a shot was fired during the slow and perilous adventure. Below the men found boats that took them off to the waiting transports from the jaws of death.
Cave Refuges of St. Valery
Meanwhile, at St. Valery itself, stirring events were happening. Up to noon on June 11th things had been pretty quiet. There were many Allied troops there; including cavalry and infantry regiments and numerous smaller parties who had lost touch with their own formations. A few minutes after midday a deafening crash was the prelude to a close and heavy bombardment by the enemy, who had come round the town along the edge of the cliff and were shelling the troops in the valley below.
The account of what followed is compiled from the personal narration of a gunner in the B.E.F. who was preset. There was a scramble for what little cover could be got; from pier and promenade men fled down to the beaches. Some made their way up to the town to fight the incoming enemy; a few found boats and rowed out seawards, while others stripped and tried to swim out. Discarding greatcoats, many men made their way over the shingle to places where the towering cliffs gave some shelter; the tide was coming in, but luckily it turned before reaching the refugees high on the shore.
In the town there was much shelling and machine-gun fire. The enemy sent out two boats filled with soldiers, who rowed along parallel with the shore and machine-gunned those sheltering there. Until dusk, seven hours later, it would not be safe to stir far away, but on hands and knees they made their way over the shingle towards Veules-les-Roses, a mile and a half away. Here and there the men found caves in the chalk cliffs and so gained shelter. Fifty or so, mostly Sea forth Highlanders were cooped up in a cave seven feet wide and twenty feet long.


They had little food and no water, and suffered intensely as the time went on. All the while there was a furious bombardment going on, and lumps of chalk and rock fell from the roof of the cave. At dusk they were joined by a number of French stragglers, and men stood along the foot of the cliffs two and three deep in places.
Tired out with the strain of waiting for ships that did not come, the men dropped off to sleep. There were many false reports, but about 2 a.m. there really were vessels off shore. At 2.30 a.m. a ship's lifeboat came to take off the soldiers to a cargo vessel some 300 yards out. The trip took 25 minutes out and back, and only twenty-five to thirty men could be carried at a time.
A second boat was brought into service and things went more quickly; later others came to the beach, now running the gauntlet of enemy shell-fire, as the Germans searched for the ships with their artillery. About 5 a.m. aircraft began dive-bombing over the beach, and also machine-gunned the rescuers and waiting troops. But visibility was poor, and the troops fired back with rifle and machineguns and brought down at least one Nazi.
Dawn disclosed a beach still filled with soldiers, formed up in queues and waiting their turn for the boats. Many more men had filtered in from Veules during the night. Now the enemy started to shell the beaches from woods on the left of Veules. Soon the trees were ablaze, and shells fells around the lifeboats. But under the supervision of the Royal Marines, who laughed and sang and jocularly called out “Cheer up!” “To hell with the Germans!” the task went on methodically until at last all were got away. The gunner of the B.E.F. from whose story this account is compiled tells how, as the last transport steamed away, one of the Marines turned to him and said reflectively. Dunkirk? That was a picnic!"