The Snow Goose by Paul Gallico. Part 5.
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The rest of the story about Philip Rhayader and the snow goose is in two parts. A soldier – Private Potton – tells one part.
Private Potton was with the first 200 soldiers who arrived home from Dunkirk. A boat carried them across the Channel. Newspaper reporters from The Times, the Evening News, the Daily Sketch and the Daily Express were waiting for them when they arrived in England.
The reporters came from London. They wanted the story of the men’s escape from Dunkirk, but many of the soldiers were hurt, or they were too tired to talk to the reporters.
But not Private Potton. He went with some others to a pub and was happy to tell his story to everyone. And the reporters were very happy to listen. They wrote down every word that he said.
Suddenly one of them asked: ‘What do you mean… “it was hopeless”?’
Potton turned to answer him. ‘Listen. There we were, on that beach, with no place to go to. The Germans were behind us and the sea was in front of us. That’s right, isn’t it, Jock? Jock was there, too.’
The man next to Potton said, ‘Yes, that’s right.’
‘The shooting came at us from all sides… from the air, too, as the planes flew low over the beaches,’ continued Potton. ‘We all lay on that beach and put our hands over our heads. The noise was terrible! You couldn’t hear yourself speak, could you, Jock?’
‘That’s right,’ said Jock.
‘There was smoke everywhere,’ continued Potton. ‘It was so thick at times – you could almost taste it. And out at sea we could hear the fighting between the German planes and the British warships.
‘We waited for them to hit us. We were too sick and tired to move. And less than a kilometre out at sea was the boat, the Kentish Maid. I know that boat well. She always sailed out from Margate in the summer. I’ve been on her, many times, when I was on holiday in Margate. Well, there she was, waiting to take us home to dear old England. But we couldn’t swim out to her, and she couldn’t come in nearer to us.’
‘Then suddenly, through the smoke, this goose came. Yes, a goose! I couldn’t believe my eyes. But Jock saw it too, didn’t you, Jock?’
‘I did,’ said Jock. ‘It was white and it went round and round in circles above our heads.’
‘Jock shouted out, “It means death for all of us”,’ said Potton. ‘But I shouted back, “It means good luck.” Then through the thick smoke comes the man – sailing in this little boat.’
‘What man?’ asked a reporter from The Times.
‘The man who saved us!’ said Private Potton. ‘He came sailing near the beach. He took no notice of the guns and bombs. In he sailed, like a man out sailing on a Sunday afternoon!
‘But he was a strange-looking man, wasn’t he, Jock?’
‘Strange, yes,’ said Jock.
‘He had a beard, a thin and twisted left arm, and a hunched back,’ continued Potton. ‘He was guiding the boat with his good hand.
‘He waved us out to his boat and shouted to our officer, “I can take seven men at a time!” Our officer thanked him and told the nearest seven of us to get in.
‘Jock and I were two of those seven, so we pushed through the water to the boat. But it was hard work, even that short way, wasn’t it, Jock?’
‘Yes,’ said Jock. ‘When we reached the boat we were so tired. We couldn’t even climb over the side. But the man was strong, and he pulled us in.’
‘He told us to lie in the bottom of the boat,’ said Potton. ‘Then we sailed away. When I looked at the sail I was surprised. How did the boat move? The sail was full of holes from the shooting!
‘And up there, over our heads, that goose flew round and round and round. Never stopped, did it, Jock?’
‘No,’ said Jock.
“There, that goose does mean good luck!” I said to Jock. When the man heard me, at the back of the boat, he looked up at the goose. And he smiled. “He knows her!” I thought to myself.
‘We got to the Kentish Maid and climbed up on her. Then the man and the goose turned round and went back to the beach for seven more soldiers. He made journeys all afternoon and all night, too. He could see at night because Dunkirk was on fire: it lit up the sky! I don’t know how many journeys he made. He was very tired. But he didn’t stop, did he, Jock?’
‘He didn’t,’ said Jock.
‘There was also a large boat from the Thames Sailing Club and a big boat from Poole. Those two boats brought all of us off that beach without losing a man.
‘The Kentish Maid sailed when the last man was off the beach. There were more than 700 of us on a boat that was built for 200.
‘The man was still there when we left. He waved goodbye to us and then sailed off towards Dunkirk – that goose with him. Ooh – it was strange to see that big goose flying round and round the little sailing boat.
‘We don’t know who he was. We don’t know what happened to him. But he was a good man, he was. He saved our lives, didn’t he, Jock?’
‘He did,’ said Jock.