Dunkirk OneShots

2. Blood Rose (2)

Tommy X Gibson Part 2

It was around midday when I made it to Dover and it took about an hour to find the dock where more ships and boats from Dunkirk were arriving but this time instead of bringing BEF soldiers it was bringing the French ones.

I quickly headed over to a tall dusty blonde haired man who stood proudly wearing Royal Navy uniform, he seemed to be in-charge around here.

"Excuse me" I coughed to try and gain the attention of the man who seemed to be looking out towards the horizon and with a snap of his head he turned towards me. It was almost as if I had knocked him out of a trance.

"Yes young man" the Navy man smiled as he looked down at me. "Can I help you?"

"Erm... yes... thank you" I stuttered. "Has any ship arrived from Dunkirk?" I spat out quickly.

"Why yes there has been but they have only been carrying the French. The British ships arrived a few days back now" the man explained.

"I know that the British ships came back a few days ago... I was on one" I barely whispered to myself trying not to think about that week.

"Well" the Navy man continued "a French hospital ship arrived a few hours ago over that way". He pointed to the left where you could just see the top of a hospital ship.

"Oh thank you!" I replied as I hurried off in that direction. If Gibson was injured he must be on that ship, that's the most reasonable place for Gibson to be.

I dodged passed the many men, women and children who were hanging around the docks and just overhead I spotted the red and white paint job of a hospital ship. He's gotta be there!

I soon reached the ship and too my despair there was many badly injured young boys and men laid on the ground on stretchers bleeding or covered in bandages. I quickly scanned around in hope to see the young French boy who I spent most of my week at Dunkirk with. I couldn't even ask for him.

I don't even know his real name. I only know his fake one. His British one.

"GIBSON!" I screamed at the top of my lungs. "GIBSON IT'S TOMMY"

I started scanning around to see if anyone had turned but no one had but then out of the corner of my eye I saw a skinny, brown haired boy holding a bandage onto his left shoulder looking around bewildered.

"Gibson" I whispered as I stared heading over to the confused French boy, dodging in out of stretchers and bodies to reach him.

Then he saw me. His eyes lit up, a smile appeared on his small carved face as waddled towards me still holding his injured shoulder.

We then collided, hitting each other softly and holding onto each other,
this time not letting go.