Out from the hell that is Dunkirk, back from the steel thrust of the German war machine comes the BEF. They're worn out and foot-sore. They're hungry. For weeks, they have been shelled and bombed from three sides. They had to stagger back to the sea to survive. They were betrayed but never defeated or dispirited. 'Round these men, there hangs an atmosphere of glory. They're still in formation. They're still grinning past the dust and oil on their faces.
For what has been done in the past few days, the BEF is grateful. To the Royal Navy for hanging a screen of fire around the Belgian beaches while the men were embarking. Here, our cameras are off Dunkirk. Here, the BEF is grateful too to the men of the Merchant Service in the big transport and the tiny boats ploughing between the big ships and the shore. And grateful to the French Navy on standing side by side with our own. From the tenders, they’re transferred to the transports. And every Nazi plane has to go through hellfire. The BEF is grateful to the Royal Air Force. Almost always outnumbered, still they claw them down. Two more. Thanks pal!
Back from the hell that is Dunkirk, day and night the transports are steaming. And as one convoy returns, another is going over to take its place. The BEF is grateful too to its French comrades. Aboard the transport, the men are packed like sardines but what does it matter? The tighter they are packed, the more they hold each other up. The BEF is grateful to the girls in uniform who stayed with them ’til the end. This is the most magnificent sight of a generation.
This is the army under its magnificent leader. They have come back from a terrible and bitter battle but still in their tired and half-closed eyes, is mirrored the spirit and cause for which they fight. That has not gone. That can never be taken away from them.
While these men live and breathe. Britain is safe. The enemy will never pass.