At Dawn's Edge: A Tense Encounter on the English Channel
It’s dawn, on August 20th, 1940. As the sun rises above the English Channel, Leading Hand Albert Dawber scans the horizon aboard HMS SUNFLOWER. There’s an unusual calmness about the morning. No fighters, no bombers, just the song of several seagulls, trailing the corvette. Albert scratches his dark beard, a feature that has aged him.
The relentless Luftwaffe assaults have taken a toll on the crew, and Lieutenant Commander Bill King’s request for a break from patrol duties has finally been approved. HMS SUNFLOWER is now bound for Portsmouth. After three grueling months patrolling the English Channel, the Admiralty has granted the crew a much-needed 72-hour stand-down.
Some of the men are planning to spend their shore leave drinking at Victory, one of Portsmouth's well-known naval pubs. But Albert has other things on his mind. He's torn between heading home to Elsecar or visiting his twin brother, Percy, in Hornchurch, Essex.
Returning to see his parents in Elsecar would require a long journey—first a trip down to London, then a train ride north to Sheffield. He figured it would give him just one night at the family home on Wath Road. Since joining the Royal Navy, he hadn't seen his parents or any of his brothers.
Bill and Jack, the older of the Dawber brothers were also twins. They had joined the army, with Bill serving in the infantry, and Jack serving with the tanks. Alan was the third brother in the Dawber household. He’d also joined the Royal Navy, and he was serving in the North Atlantic.
Albert really wanted to visit Percy, but he had concerns about visiting him. Percy was serving in the front line of the Battle of Britain, supporting the Spitfires of No54 Squadron. Where would he stay on the airfield? Would Percy be able to get a leave pass? What if he couldn’t get back to Portsmouth?
Albert acknowledged that he needed a short break from his time at sea. It took a lot of discipline and interpersonal skills during round the clock shift patterns aboard the confines of the tiny Corvette. And whilst nobody ever complained, each sailor valued their time ashore.
As Albert stood aft, deep in concentration, he heard the footsteps of Chief Petty Officer Warton. “It’s a grand morning, young Albert.”
“Aye, Chief. Not a plane in sight. The RAF and Luftwaffe must be having a sleep in.”
“It’s strange not to be harassed by Gerry. Still, I am not complaining. We’ll be alongside in two hours. Do you have any plans?'“
“Aye, Chief. Well sort of. I’m torn between visiting Ma and Pa in Yorkshire, or taking a train up to London and getting a bus to Hornchurch to see my twin brother. He’s a rigger, serving with 54 Squadron. Spitfires.”
“Well, as long as you’re back to set sail, you can do what you like. I bet those RAF lads have had it as tough as we have. How do you know your brother is still at Hornchurch?”
“He sent me a letter a few weeks ago. He’s still there, I think. Do you reckon I could telephone the airfield when we get alongside? Chief, would that be ok?”
“Here, write down his service number, and I’ll see what I can find out. The last few hours of duty can be the most dangerous. Keep your eyes peeled. You’ve taken to the sea like a duck to water. Keep it up, and let’s get ashore safely. Remember to scan for U-Boats.”
“Aye, Chief.”
Albert took a deep breath, lifted his binoculars, and slowly scanned the horizon. The waves rolled gently beneath him, and clusters of white clouds floated lazily in the sky. For a moment, he could almost imagine it was just another peaceful morning at sea, as if the war had never begun.
As the sun climbed higher, casting long shadows across the deck, a sudden tension rippled through the crew. Albert’s fingers tightened around the binoculars, his pulse quickening. Something caught his eye—a distant, dark shape just beneath the surface, moving too smoothly to be a wave. He lowered the binoculars, heart pounding. “Chief,” he called, voice steady but urgent, “there’s something in the water, starboard side.”
Chief Petty Officer Warton was at his side in an instant, scanning the horizon with a seasoned eye. He didn’t need to say a word—his jaw clenched, and that was enough. The men sprang into action, the quiet of the morning shattered by the barked orders and the clatter of boots on steel. The brief respite from the war had vanished as quickly as it had come, replaced by the stark reality that the enemy was never far away.
Albert’s thoughts of home and his brother dissolved, replaced by the cold, hard focus of the moment. There would be no shore leave if they didn’t make it back to Portsmouth. As the HMS SUNFLOWER turned towards the unknown threat, every man knew the next few minutes could decide their fate. Albert took a deep breath, steadied his nerves, and prepared for whatever lay ahead. The war, it seemed, had found them once again.
Next time on Project World War 2. A mysterious figure loiters around the pubs of Portsmouth. Will Albert and the crew of HMS SUNFLOWER make it alongside?
Subscribe now, and be the first to discover the next instalment of this epic adventure.