Beyond these are, tangled woods surrounded by yellow ropes strung between red signs "Danger Entre Interdit Munitions Non EclatÚe"
(undetonated explosives).

Sheep are used to crop the grass as it is too dangerous for humans to do it.

Dieppe France Aug19th, 1942


Further down the Normandy coast I stopped at Dieppe, a small harbour city nestled between towering chalk cliffs. It was here on August 19, 1942 five thousand Canadians and one thousand Brits launched a "raid in strength" on the town. This was partly a ill conceived attempt to satisfy Stalin's demands for attacks that would draw German resources and take the pressure off the Russian front. Mismanagement is too kind a word for the events of the day. It was a bloody disaster.

The bombardment of the guns on the cliffs overlooking the beach was completely ineffectual. Many of the tanks landed on the beach by the new LCTs (Landing Craft Tank) could not climb the steep flint pebble beach which jammed and broke the sprockets of their tread drive wheels. Naval fire and fighter support was woefully inadequate. The men were trapped on the beach, sitting ducks for the overwhelming fire power of the machine guns of the shore defences and the heavy guns on the
surrounding cliffs. By the end of the day, of the 3367 casualties, 907 Canadians were dead, and a further two thousand captured. "They" said many lessons were learned that made the D day invasion, two years later, a success.

View of Dieppe beach from the German gun positions. The truth is that Stalin was threatening to sue for peace with Hitler on the verge of taking Moscow, Stalingrad, and Leningrad.
Not only that but Roosevelt did not like Churchill's plan to go to North Africa first. He wanted to take on Hitler in France right away.

Churchill gave Mountbatten the job of mounting a mini invasion.... AND PROVE IT COULD NOT BE DONE YET. (source Gen. Denis Whitaker in his book Dieppe Tragedy to Triumph)

So the bombing of the guns by Bomber Harris was called off at the last minute, no battle ship was sent to provide fire support and the Canadians were slaughtered.

Beyond these are dark, tangled woods
surrounded by yellow ropes strung between red signs "Danger Entre Interdit Munitions Non EclatÚe"
(undetonated explosives).

The sun was low and cast long shadows. I found myself left alone by the living. Yet behind the wind in
the trees, faintly, I thought I could hear desperate cries and curses of men who had died for the promise of
peace and found that the price they paid had brought only a lull. Millions more were to bleed and die.

In the cemetery their stones stand
Forever at attention
Ridged in the setting sun.
I wonder
How is it that I can leave
and they cannot?

That night in the "Hotel du Golf" I was introduced to the French mosquito. There were no window
screens or air conditioning (the norm in France). I passed the night waging war against these miniature
foes dive bombing my ear. Another round in the eternal battle between "us" and "them!" My one
satisfaction was adding to the already numerous record of Mosquito kills marked in blood on the walls.

The next day I drove out to the coast, and travelled from World War I to II. I stopped at the towering
chalk cliffs of Cape Gris, a mere 18 km from England. Their mirror image, the "white cliffs of Dover"
were visible in the faint haze separating the light blue sky from the darker sea.

Because of this, Cape Gris was an important observation post for the Nazis. Masters of reinforced
concrete, they had built several observation bunkers on and into the cliff connected by a warren of
tunnels that still survive.

I realised I was hungry and lunch was in order. I sat on top of one of the bunkers, ate my jambon et
fromage baguette and drank a glass of superb French wine. In the warmth of the sun, the sight of gulls
hovering over the edge of the white cliffs, and the taste of good food, I was filled with the joie de vivre
one expects from a holiday in France.

After lunch I wandered over to one of the tunnel entrances. It was overgrown with brush, and smelled
like a latrine (which is just what many tourists used them for). The tunnels beyond were impenetrably
dark. The beam of my little key-chain flashlight seemed to be smothered, as if there was more to the
darkness here than just the lack of light. My return from the tunnel into the sun dispelled most of my
fear, but I was left with a sense that the evil I had felt was not dead, only biding its time.

The chalk cliffs bordering both sides of Dieppe beach. There are many small caves in which the Germans had mounted machine guns. On the top of the cliffs they had large artillery pieces.

Cape Gris

Dieppe's Chert (flint) Stone Beach

The beach is mostly Chert (flint) stone. At night if you throw a stone on to the beach you get a shower of sparks.