70th Anniversary of a ill-fated invasion

70th Anniversary services.  Photo Ann MacMillan CBC

Crouching on the waves in the moon-lit darkness, the Allied invasion force waits. 

They are waiting for the signal to invade the beaches of Dieppe, hoping to begin the liberation of France. 

It is August 19^th 1942.  The service personal are waiting, muscles coiled, breathing slowed – trying to control the fear and the adrenaline.  Prayers are whispered.  Photos of wives and children are kissed for luck, and tucked into a uniform breast pocket. 

A fleeting knowing look is exchanged between infantrymen, thinking; “Will we die here?” 

Dieppe France in May of 2012

At ten minutes to six in the morning the invasion began.  Long lines of ships crowd the coastlines, disembarking men and tanks.  Tracers light the sky as enemy guns fire upon anything that moves.  

German Junkers aircraft drop heavy bombs that thud into the earth, showering stones, and mud, and body parts into the air.  Boots scrabble on the smooth, slippery stones.  Men stumble and fall. 

An Allied Spitfire plane crashes beside a tank carrier, the pilot struggles to escape as the plane sinks below the surface.  The new Canadian Calgary Tank Division desperately tries to land their vehicles. 

The smooth beach stones jam tightly into the tank tracks, rendering the machines incapable of movement.  Another bomb thuds nearby.  Dismembered bodies floated past.  The beach stones turn red with splattered gore.

Ill-fated Dieppe Raid August 19th 1942

Smoke.  Screams.  Yells.  Commands.  Gunfire.  And explosions rip through the air.  It is not pretty, or cinematic-worthy.  It is nasty, and dirty, and horrible.  The ‘secret’ invasion was expected. 

An increase in British radio signal traffic, and a French double-agent had removed any possibility of surprising and overwhelming the German forces.   Eight hours later the invasion forces scrambled to pull back, returning to England, leaving behind some of the dead and all of the captured.  Of the nearly 5,000 Canadians who participated in the raid, 913 were killed.  About 1500 Canadians were taken prisoner.


Seaside cabanas in Dieppe

When Lawrie and I recently visited Dieppe we saw a peaceful little seaside town with little beach cabanas lining the seawall.  There were people enjoying the spring sunshine while eating at outdoor restaurants.  Children were returning from a day at school.  Adults were shopping for items for the evening dinner.  Normal people doing everyday normal things. 

We stayed overnight in the centre of town near the 600-year-old St. Jacques cathedral with its scowling gargoyles and intricate stained glass windows.  On the bluff, overlooking the town and the beach is the medieval Chateau de Dieppe.  It houses a museum that currently specializes in a collection of ivory artifacts from the 18^th and 19^th centuries.

Dieppe, our hotel was to the right

In the morning we wandered the landing area of the Dieppe Raid, trying in our mind’s eye to see what the invasion would have looked like. 

I picked up one of the elliptical shale stones, rubbing it absently between my thumb and finger – visualizing the challenge of running on this beach while scared, and loaded down with thirty-five pounds of equipment.   Running towards the gun emplacements, still visible seventy years later tucked into the hillside. 

How did anyone survive?






We stood silently, staring at the ocean, thinking about the very human cost of war.   Any war.   



Rocky beach of Dieppe