May 1941

ESCAPE FROM CANNES—JUNE, 1940.

[The following is the text of a letter from Mr. G. F. Tendall, who was formerly Organist, Modern Languages Master and Housemaster of the Grove. Mr. Tendall will be well remembered by many generations of Peterites.1 After a most ghastly and exciting last-minute scoot from Cannes, here we are. We left our house intact, with clothes, pictures, books, letters, food, etc. We expected to stay, as the Italians threats only made us laugh and their few air raids were almost puerile—three deaths and a few injured. But when, the Germans suddenly appeared within sixty miles of Cannes we thought it time to get out, especially as we were responsible for the safe return to England of five little girls from Birmingham, sent to Cannes

by Mrs. Chamberlain and the British Government.

They had been invited by the Clinique at Cannes as a tribute to Mr. Neville Chamberlain's great efforts for peace at Munich.

No arrangements had been made, but two coal boats were sent from Marseilles, and we were told that there would be no more and that we could go if we liked. We got the kids in from the country overnight and on the morning of the 18th we assembled on the quay at dawn. Six hundred people were expected to sail, but about 600 more people flocked in from Nice and joined us. We were the whole day on the quay and eventually, at about 6 o'clock, fought our way through the customs and on to the tender.

Invalids and children, old men and women, criminals and schoolmasters, all carrying hand luggage. Passports were looked at but not inspected, so all sorts of rogues of all nationalities got on board and drifted to England under the British flag.

We got on to the s.s. Ashcrest, the second of the two boats—a crew of thirty, no life belts, four decrepit lifeboats and no accommodation except for officers and crew.

Seven hundred people crammed together, most of them down in the coal bunkers where coal had been lying the night before. We slept on deck on the bare boards along with several others who would not face the foul air down below.

One good lady lent us two blankets, and with a valise as a pillow and a 'tattered tarpaulin over our legs we carried on as far as Gibraltar. Everyone was as black as a sweep next morning and remained so until we got to Gibraltar, as there was nothing but salt water to wash with. We got a small ration of drinking water morning and evening, four biscuits, with butter, a day, a little bully beef which we took 31