Today is the 70th anniversary of the evacuation of Dunkirk. My granddad was one of the many people who were sent here. He was a motorcycle dispatch rider, and it was his job to transport orders, messages etc between regiments and bases. When I was younger I never really appreciated just what he did. He very rarely spoke about the war, like so many others. I was later told of one day while he was in Dunkirk. His regiment had two motorcycle riders, my granddad and a close friend of his. A message came through that one of them had to take their motorbike and deliver a message. My granddad and his friend tossed a coin to see who would go. My granddad lost, and set off. As he started his journey he heard a bomb buzz overhead. As he turned to look, the shell directly hit the building he was just in. It killed his close friend and many other people he was stationed with.
Today I will remember him and all those that lost their lives and took part in the battle.