15-year-old daughter and his 13-year-old son to pack. They filled four suitcases, numbered1 to 4 – the last, carried by the youngest member of the family, John, was to be abandoned first, if necessary.
Duggan telephoned other British inhabitants of Nantes, only to find that some had already left. Two families joined the Duggans in a three-car convoy which headed towards St-Nazaire. Before setting out, they agreed that, if any car broke down, it would be abandoned. The vital thing was to get to the coast and sail away.
It was, John Duggan recalled, an exciting episode for a teenage boy. The weather was beautiful. He had with him his Bedlington terrier of which he was particularly fond. The road was clogged, and, as they passed through French villages, people cheered them.
The route west from Nantes divides at the town of Savenay, one fork going to St-Nazaire and the other north-west towards Brest. Eddie Duggan looked up the right-hand fork and saw the road was empty. So he decided to take it, giving up the idea of going to St-Nazaire and heading instead for Brest.
One car’s fan belt gave way as they passed through a deserted village, where the road became a hard, dusty track. Ignoring their agreement to abandon any vehicle that broke down, the men forced open garages to find a replacement. As they did so, they kept a watch on the road, half expecting to see German tanks driving towards them. John Duggan stood by a water trough, with his terrier. Behind him, he heard a skylark.
German planes were attacking at will across France. The last RAF units had been withdrawn to the Channel Islands. The French air force was largely ineffective.
From the base outside Louvain in Belgium, the KG30 Diving Eagle unit of JU-88s was ordered to bomb Tours. Though the government had left for the greater safety of Bordeaux, the city was still a major point on the refugee route.
Using their usual tactic of flying in with the sun behind them to blind the defenders, the planes dived on a bridge crossing the river. The pilot, Peter Stahl, waited until a red mark on the Plexiglas panel in the nose passed the target. Then he pulled the level that sent his plane into its steep dive. As he hurtled down, an anti-aircraft shell hit the panel, and Stahl pulled the plane upwards. Regaining height, he put the Junkers into a second dive, and, this time, hit the bridge – a few days later, the damage was to prove a hindrance to Wehrmacht troops as they came to cross the Loire.
Back in Belgium, the crews had what Stahl’s diary called ‘a good serious drinking session with many speeches in the nearby village. The wine is good and our hosts in the localinn are most pleasant.’ 6
France’s new capital of Bordeaux was crammed with half a million refugees. People clamoured for rooms in the lobbies of smart hotels, or slept in private homes that were turned into dormitories. The correspondent of
The Times
described the city as being in ‘bedlam’, with ‘ladies bent on saving their lapdogs, refugees of all kinds, French and foreigners [and] aceaseless maelstrom of cars’. 7
Government leaders set up in official buildings: Paul Reynaud chose the military commander’s residence as a sign of his intention to keep a grip on the conduct of the war. In the late afternoon of 16 June, Churchill’s military liaisonofficer, General Edward Spears, and the British ambassador, Sir Ronald Campbell, called on the Premier with a message from London saying that, if France did seek armistice terms, Britain expected to be consulted.
Then the telephone rang. Reynaud picked up the receiver. The next moment, Spears recorded, ‘his eyebrows went up so far they became indistinguishable from his neatly brushed hair; one eyebrow to eachside of the parting’. 8
‘One moment,’ the Premier said. ‘I must take it down.’
The caller was de Gaulle with the terms of the British declaration on union between the two countries.
Grasping a sheet of foolscap paper on the
Duggan telephoned other British inhabitants of Nantes, only to find that some had already left. Two families joined the Duggans in a three-car convoy which headed towards St-Nazaire. Before setting out, they agreed that, if any car broke down, it would be abandoned. The vital thing was to get to the coast and sail away.
It was, John Duggan recalled, an exciting episode for a teenage boy. The weather was beautiful. He had with him his Bedlington terrier of which he was particularly fond. The road was clogged, and, as they passed through French villages, people cheered them.
The route west from Nantes divides at the town of Savenay, one fork going to St-Nazaire and the other north-west towards Brest. Eddie Duggan looked up the right-hand fork and saw the road was empty. So he decided to take it, giving up the idea of going to St-Nazaire and heading instead for Brest.
One car’s fan belt gave way as they passed through a deserted village, where the road became a hard, dusty track. Ignoring their agreement to abandon any vehicle that broke down, the men forced open garages to find a replacement. As they did so, they kept a watch on the road, half expecting to see German tanks driving towards them. John Duggan stood by a water trough, with his terrier. Behind him, he heard a skylark.
German planes were attacking at will across France. The last RAF units had been withdrawn to the Channel Islands. The French air force was largely ineffective.
From the base outside Louvain in Belgium, the KG30 Diving Eagle unit of JU-88s was ordered to bomb Tours. Though the government had left for the greater safety of Bordeaux, the city was still a major point on the refugee route.
Using their usual tactic of flying in with the sun behind them to blind the defenders, the planes dived on a bridge crossing the river. The pilot, Peter Stahl, waited until a red mark on the Plexiglas panel in the nose passed the target. Then he pulled the level that sent his plane into its steep dive. As he hurtled down, an anti-aircraft shell hit the panel, and Stahl pulled the plane upwards. Regaining height, he put the Junkers into a second dive, and, this time, hit the bridge – a few days later, the damage was to prove a hindrance to Wehrmacht troops as they came to cross the Loire.
Back in Belgium, the crews had what Stahl’s diary called ‘a good serious drinking session with many speeches in the nearby village. The wine is good and our hosts in the localinn are most pleasant.’ 6
France’s new capital of Bordeaux was crammed with half a million refugees. People clamoured for rooms in the lobbies of smart hotels, or slept in private homes that were turned into dormitories. The correspondent of
The Times
described the city as being in ‘bedlam’, with ‘ladies bent on saving their lapdogs, refugees of all kinds, French and foreigners [and] aceaseless maelstrom of cars’. 7
Government leaders set up in official buildings: Paul Reynaud chose the military commander’s residence as a sign of his intention to keep a grip on the conduct of the war. In the late afternoon of 16 June, Churchill’s military liaisonofficer, General Edward Spears, and the British ambassador, Sir Ronald Campbell, called on the Premier with a message from London saying that, if France did seek armistice terms, Britain expected to be consulted.
Then the telephone rang. Reynaud picked up the receiver. The next moment, Spears recorded, ‘his eyebrows went up so far they became indistinguishable from his neatly brushed hair; one eyebrow to eachside of the parting’. 8
‘One moment,’ the Premier said. ‘I must take it down.’
The caller was de Gaulle with the terms of the British declaration on union between the two countries.
Grasping a sheet of foolscap paper on the
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