We Shall Fight on the Beaches Persuasive Speech
When, a week ago today, I asked the House to fix this afternoon as the occasion for a statement, I feared
it would be my hard lot to announce the greatest military disaster in our long history. I thought—and some
good judges agreed with me—that perhaps 20,000 or 30,000 men might be re-embarked. But it certainly
seemed that the whole of the French First Army and the whole of the British Expeditionary Force north of
the Amiens-Abbeville gap would be broken up in the open field or else would have to capitulate for lack of
food and ammunition. These were the hard and heavy tidings for which I called upon the House and the
nation to prepare themselves a week ago.
The whole root and core and brain of the British Army, on which and around which we were to build, and
are to build, the great British Armies in the later years of the war, seemed about to perish upon the field or
to be led into an ignominious and starving captivity.
That was the prospect a week ago. But another blow which might well have proved final was yet to fall
upon us. The enemy attacked on all sides with great strength and fierceness, and their main power, the
power of their far more numerous Air Force, was thrown into the battle or else concentrated upon Dunkirk
and the beaches. Pressing in upon the narrow exit, both from the east and from the west, the enemy
began to fire with cannon upon the beaches by which alone the shipping could approach or depart. They
sowed magnetic mines in the channels and seas; they sent repeated waves of hostile aircraft, sometimes
more than a hundred strong in one formation, to cast their bombs upon the single pier that remained, and
upon the sand dunes upon which the troops had their eyes for shelter.
For four or five days an intense struggle reigned. Suddenly the scene has cleared, the crash and thunder
has for the moment—but only for the moment—died away. A miracle of deliverance, achieved by valour,
by perseverance, by perfect discipline, by faultless service, by resource, by skill, by unconquerable fidelity,
is manifest to us all.
The enemy was hurled back by the retreating British and French troops. He was so roughly handled that
he did not harry their departure seriously. The Royal Air Force engaged the main strength of the German
Air Force, and inflicted upon them losses of at least four to one; and the Navy, using nearly 1,000 ships of
all kinds, carried over 335,000 men, French and British, out of the jaws of death and shame, to their native
land and to the tasks which lie immediately ahead.
We must be very careful not to assign to this deliverance the attributes of a victory. Wars are not won by
evacuations. But there was a victory inside this deliverance, which should be noted. It was gained by the
Air Force.
Many of our soldiers coming back have not seen the Air Force at work; they saw only the bombers which
escaped its protective attack. They underrate its achievements. I have heard much talk of this; that is why
I go out of my way to say this. I will tell you about it.
Every morn brought forth a noble chance And every chance brought forth a noble knight.
They deserve our gratitude, as do all the brave men who, in so many ways and on so many occasions, are
ready, and continue ready, to give life and all for their native land.
