Canada’s unsung hero of Dunkirk
Amid the buzz over the new film on Dunkirk, the true story of a remarkable Canadian continues to be ignored, as it has been for 77 years.
The evacuation of more than 338,000 Allied troops who were trapped on the French shoreline has been described as nothing short of miraculous. The skies clouded, providing respite from Luftwaffe attacks. The English Channel calmed, allowing the legendary “little ships” to rescue men from the shallow waters off Dunkirk’s beach.
What is less known is that most survivors were not evacuated by small boats, a process that was slow, laborious and often chaotic. On Day 3 of the10-day evacuation the decision was made to try loading men directly onto large ships via the east mole, a narrow wooden pier that extended 1,280 metres into the English Channel.
A major risk in using the mole was obvious: it could become a death trap. While soldiers who were assembled on the beach could scatter when German dive-bombers attacked, troops who were lined along the congested, elevated pier had nowhere to run. Once the Germans realized that the mole was being used for large-scale escape, it would immediately become a prime target. The mole would need a pier-master capable of maintaining order among men who were mentally and physically exhausted, each of whom desperately wanted to be on the next ship home.
The task of pier-master was given to James Campbell Clouston. He was born and raised in Montreal, attended McGill and joined the Royal Navy in 1918. By 1940, he had risen to the rank of commander and was highly regarded by both his subordinates and fellow officers. Since his own ship was under repair, Clouston offered to help with the catastrophic situation unfolding at Dunkirk.
He assumed the role of pier-master on Day 3 and remained at his post near the tip of the mole for the next five days and nights. Armed only with a loud-hailer and a pistol (which he had to employ at least once to restore order) Clouston ushered more than 200,000 onto ships moored next to the precarious mole. A CBC film crew interviewed many evacuees for a 50th anniversary documentary film in1990. Multiple survivors recalled a remarkable Navy officer who spoke with a Canadian accent and had an uncanny ability to keep everyone calm.
None of this is portrayed by “Commander Bolton” in the new Dunkirk film. Pier-master Bolton never uses a loud-hailer and consequently has no means to exercise direct control over evacuees, much less calming them while under attack.
How our real-life pier-master endured five straight days at the end of the mole is unclear: he apparently napped and ate as opportunity arose.
On Day 7 (June 1, 1940), the exhausted Clouston was sent to Dover to confer with Admiral Ramsay. He rested overnight and when the decision was made to continue the evacuation, Clouston offered to return.
There had been trouble on the mole during his absence and as an ex-Montrealer his knowledge of French was an asset: increasing numbers of French troops were being evacuated.
While returning to Dunkirk the following afternoon Clouston’s speedboat was attacked by dive-bombers and sunk. Clouston and a dozen sailors eventually succumbed to the frigid water and drowned; two others survived. Clouston was 39 years old, leaving behind a young son and his pregnant wife in England.
Heroism is not rare: we regularly hear stories of rescues and other selfless acts. Although such acts make a huge difference to the rescued individuals, they rarely alter the course of human history. Not so in the case of Clouston: the deliverance of a third of a million experienced Allied troops was a pivotal moment of the Second World War and his steadfast service contributed greatly to that success.
Also, most heroic acts are brief, often a matter of seconds: Clouston’s was sustained over several days. Lister Sinclair, who narrated the superb1990 CBC documentary We Shall Fight on the Beaches! concluded the segment devoted to Commander Clouston by stating, “It was said that he should have had the Victoria Cross for his courage . . . It is rare that a single individual can play such a large role in history.”
Despite his exceptional service and sacrifice, Clouston was never awarded a medal and remains virtually unknown, even here in his homeland.