ng up in smoke."

"Yes, but look there, Dave!" Freddy cried and grabbed his arm as he
pointed with his other hand. "There on the beach. It's the British army.
Look! They're even wading out in the water to the boats! It must be too
shallow for them to get in any closer. Gee, Dave, _gee!_"

Dave couldn't speak as he stared at the sight. The words were all too
choked up inside of him to come out. The whole beach was practically
covered with row after row of British and French soldiers. They stood in
long columns of ten and twelve men across, and those columns stretched
from high up on the beach far out into the shallow water. In some
places cars, and tanks, and trucks, anything on wheels had been driven
out into the water and parked side by side, parked hub to hub and planks
laid across the tops of them to form a makeshift pier that could reach
out into deeper water. But there were only a few of such piers. Most of
the columns of men were wading out into the water until it came up to
their chests, and even up to their necks.

And out there looking weird and grotesque in the glow of the burning
Channel port were boats of every conceivable description. There were row
boats, and yachts. Fishing smacks and pleasure yawls. Coastal vessels
and ferry boats. Motor boats and canoes. Barges and British destroyers.
Anything and everything that could float had been brought over to help
in the evacuation. No, it wasn't the British Navy taking the British
Army home. It was all England come to rescue her fighting men.

Dave and Freddy stood rooted in their tracks staring wide eyed at the
historic event that will live forever in the minds of men. Their eyes
soaked up the scene, and their ears soaked up the conglomeration of
sound. Oddly enough, practically all of the sounds came from off shore.
The blast of whistles, the blowing of signal horns, the purr and the
roar of engines, and the shouts of the appointed and of the self-made
skippers and crews of the fantastic rescue fleet. The troops hardly made
any sound at all. Perhaps they were too tired. Perhaps the roar of
battle still ringing in their ears momentarily stilled their tongues. Or
perhaps they were content just to follow the next man ahead and pray
silently that they would be taken aboard some kind of a boat and sailed
away before daylight and the Stukas arrived once again. But the real
reason for their strange silence, probably, was because most of them had
been there for day