but a tight bandage stemmed the bleeding and he sipped at a bottle of rum from the tug’s medical cupboard to numb the pain. He was doing OK, and even shared some of the banter in the cramped crew quarters below deck.
The crossing could have been a nightmare, but there was no sign of enemy activity and the sea was calm. German submarines used hydrophones, which could detect even the smallest boats on a quiet sea, so Henderson kept the noise to a minimum by running at a moderate seven-knot pace.Madeline IV
Ten kilometres from Britain they encountered a search and rescue launch that had spent several fruitless hours looking for downed bomber crews. All British vessels had been warned to look out for a small grey tug, and the final stretch of their journey was spent under the protection of a vessel twice their length and with 45mm cannons mounted reassuringly front and rear.
Rosie and Henderson felt nostalgia for their homeland as they pulled in at a tiny fishing harbour. Paul only had vague memories of Britain, while Marc, Khinde, Rufus and Eugene felt apprehensive about the welcome they’d receive in a strange country whose language they didn’t understand.
There wasn’t much moonlight, but enough to make out the endless coils of barbed wire and tank traps stretched across the beach, along with the outlines of terraced houses behind the quay.
As soon as the tug was safely lashed to the harbour wall, the captain of the search and rescue vessel saluted from deck and sped off towards his base in Folkestone a few kilometres down the coast.
Two elderly home guardsmen helped secure the end of a boarding ramp. Henderson was the first ashore and was delighted to see Eileen McAfferty walking towards him, as quickly as bad feet would allow.
‘Look at you in uniform!’ Henderson shouted. ‘Someone get me a camera!’ It felt wonderful to be able to speak his own language with his own accent. ‘And I do believe I’m going to have to start calling you , judging by all those stripes.’sir
‘Bloody well done!’ McAfferty said, as she reached out for a handshake.
But Henderson ignored the hand and kissed McAfferty on both cheeks before bringing her into a tight hug.
‘Where’s the boy who got shot?’ McAfferty asked. ‘We got the signal from search and rescue. There’s an ambulance crew waiting.’
As PT was helped off the boat two ambulance men stood with a stretcher, but he made it to the ambulance with nothing but a bit of support from Eugene.
‘We’ve got sandwiches and hot tea under the bandstand back there,’ McAfferty said in French, as she pointed towards a hexagonal structure in a courtyard behind the quay. ‘You must all be for a cup of tea.’gasping
Khinde and Rufus looked baffled as the home guardsmen looked them up and down.
‘You’ll need a shirt here, mate. You’ll freeze your nipples off in winter!’
‘Have you heard from Maxine and Bernard?’ Henderson asked.
‘Bernard transmitted a brief message about an hour ago,’ McAfferty explained. ‘Both their beacons ignited to the satisfaction of bomber command. They’re going to meet up and take the first train to Paris in the morning.’
‘And you must be Rosie!’ McAfferty said brightly, as Henderson shook hands with the home guardsmen. ‘We finally meet face to face after all that Morse code!’
Rosie had pictured McAfferty as a glamorous Maxine type, and managed to be both startled and tearful as she was pulled into the ample bust of the Scotswoman.
‘Is everything good with you, love?’ McAfferty asked.
‘It’s so nice to finally meet you in the flesh,’ Rosie said, grinning. ‘And I’m fine, thanks for asking. It’s a massive relief to be home – I couldn’t be happier.’absolutely
Paul stood just behind, and he whispered in Marc’s ear, ‘As long as you don’t mention my dark chocolate sauce to her, that is.’
The 9 September raid on France’s northern ports was the largest bombing raid the world had seen up to that point. The successful ignition of phosphorous beacons at Le Havre, Dieppe, Boulogne, Calais and Dunkirk enabled the three hundred and thirty-seven bombers to attack under cover of darkness, while achieving bombing accuracy similar to a much riskier daylight attack.
The raid is thought to have destroyed more than a quarter of the German barge fleet, almost half of the available tugs and more than half of the Germans’ fleet of high-speed patrol boats. This level of destruction, combined with the Luftwaffe’s continued failure to take control of the air space over the Channel, forced Hitler