David
The answer to some of your questions are related below. The Toronto Scottish according to their web site landed an advance party on the 12th of June before being ordered to return. The 48th carriers arrived at Brest and were dumped in the harbour with their engine running. The 48th Transport stopped about five miles out of St. Malo and disabled their vehicles by punching holes in the oil pans while the engine were running. A strange episode happened while waiting for the tide to come in the pipers of the 48th played some tunes. While playing about two hundred British soldiers came down out of the dunes onto the beach. It seems that they were not sure who the soldiers were until they heard the pipes.

Extracted from Dileas Vol II by Kim Beattie, Chapter 7

The Dover Dash was a subdued expedition compared to the mood of the Highlanders now. They were in a carnival spirit as they rolled into the bustling confusion of Millbay Dock at Plymouth,
early on June 13th. They jeered at the unlucky date, and went
stampeding aboard the old S.S. El Monsour, veteran of the Agiers-
Marseilles run, with the names of Foreign Legionnaires cut into her latrine walls.
Their careless good humour contrasted sharply with the air of
gloomy anxiety over the dock area. This began to irritate the High-
landers, especially the solemnity of the farewell arrangements. The Royal Marine Band played continuously, meaning to give them an impressive send-off, but the 48th declared their sprightliest marches had the undertone of a wake. Lord and Lady Astor arrived to see them off, but the peer was glum and his political lady fluttered about as if condolences to the doomed were in order.
The two-ship 1st Brigade convoy went out with the evening tide. The Hastings were aboard the Ville d'Alger, a scruffy French channel craft. Brigadier Armand Smith was O.C. Troops on the El Monsour, which was loaded with the R.C.R., an anti-tank company and the Brigade Staff, in addition to the 48th.
They found the ancient port of Brest jammed with refugees arriv-
ing from the interior, loaded down with all they now possessed,
often foolish things packed in the haste of panic. Now they were
stranded. A dismaying atmosphere of indifference marked the lounging poilus. There was no welcome for the Canadians from either military or civil France.
Army organization now blew up in a more colossal snafu than the 48th Highlanders experienced in two wars. They were almost fatally the victims of the historic muddle of all times for Canadian troops. The 1st Canadian Brigade was landed at Brest as France was on the verge of her tragic collapse as a free nation, and the infantry, including the 48th Highlanders, were sent deep into the confused interior-with the artillery in the lead!-without a higher headquarters of their own for contact and new orders, and with no liaison with London, the British Commander in France, or their own divisional headquarters.
For the Dunkirk expedition, a Canadian Advance H.Q. had been
organized to cross to France with the Canadian battle-group. This
time, General McNaughton established 1st Division H.Q. in England, back at Plymouth. There could as yet be no contact with General Alan Brooke in France because on this day (14th) he was just setting up a rudimentary headquarters near Le Mans, without even a typewriter, and then leaving to travel 170 miles along packed roads to see Weygand.
General McNaughton was sending the whole 1st Division over
by brigades: fortunately, only the 1st Brigade was risked in the trap of collapsing French resistance. He was following a plan based on a Brittany redoubt, where a last stand might be made on French soil. This had not gone beyond the proposal stage, and presumably General McNaughton was not aware the idea had never reached French-British agreement.
The effect of all this was to find the Canadians unloading rapidly, with Movement Control knowing nothing about the mystifying redoubt, or an assembly Northeast of Brest. It was a problem, but one which the army way can always solve. In 1939, the B.E.F. troops landing in Brest were sent to the Le Mans-Rennes-Laval area to assemble. So there, in June, 1940, the 1st Canadian Division was hastily hurried. There is nothing to suggest that this was not where General Brooke wanted, and expected them. His only plan at the beginning was to reinforce a reorganization of French forces, and this was the convenient area.
While rail transport was rounded up, the C.O. wisely sent out
foraging parties to purchase long sticks of French bread, cheese,
onions, any food they could buy. (Movement Control said rations
and water would be waiting at intervals, but he was dubious, and
the supplies proved a myth.) There was no regimental fund avail-
able, but the men's English money had been changed into francs aboard the El Monsour, and the Highlanders cheerfully tried to
ration themselves, not omitting a few surreptitious bottles of vin
blanc, as an insurance against troop-train boredom.
Movement Control appointed Colonel Haldenby O.C. Troops for
the 48th train, the usual procedure which left the senior officer
aboard, Brigadier Smith, clear of details. The Brigade staff, and the
anti-tank company was also aboard.
As they pulled away from Brest just before noon, Brigadier Smith still had no means to check his orders. He could not know if their Le Mans-Laval destination met the approval of either 1st Division H.Q. back in England or General Brooke, somewhere in the confusion ahead. He could only assume that Brest Movement Control knew what they were about.
And away went the 1st Canadian Brigade on a weird penetration of the interior of disintegrating France. The 48th train was bound for Sable-sur-Sarthe, roughly half-way between Brest and Paris, which the Germans were already bypassing on its flanks. The fleeing civilians were given the right-of-way, so the Highlanders' train moved fitfully. It was switched off the main line again and again to let refugee trains through; it jolted into movement, stopped and started and shunted and waited during long unexplained and exasperating delays. By such fits-and-starts they reached Rennes early in the evening, where there was another long delay.
This pause in Rennes presented a refreshment opportunity which was too good to waste. The Highlanders were soon eager customers of a civilian runner system, working from the train through the milling refugees to the wine shops of Rennes. The modest supply of wine contrived at Brest had soon evaporated, so this time they stocked up to the full extent of their French money. Good wines were purchased in bottles, and horrified old campaigners saw foolish young soldiers dumping their water to fill their bottles with vin rouge et vin blanc at 20 francs a fill.
As they went slowly on through the night, the countryside was not yet caught up with the awful terror of civilians in complete panic, but is was verging on that. At Laval, the point where the Hastings' train would turnabout, the railway officials seemed so frightened they were ready to stampede. Beyond, the plodding peasants streaming down to the roads in search of safety, began to hear ribald army songs in deep-throated choruses from crazy Canadians headed the wrong way. Until the vin blanc and its effects wore out, there were many encores from the 48th innocents, who were heading for trouble with the C.O., if not the enemy.
At 11:00 P.M., Colonel Haldenby held an O Group, to reveal something of the bad news heard at Laval, and since. The most disturbing thing was that reiterated phrase of accepted defeat: finie le guerre. At Laval, it was so often heard it was like a theme song of the defeated. "That's only civilian gabble-and frightened gabble, at that," said the Colonel. "We cannot plan or act on it. But when we reach Sable there may be dangerous confusion. All officers are to go to their commands, keep every man on board, and then remain with their men.
The only instructions for Sable had been to unload. The Colonel now gave two alternatives:
(i)-If the 1st Brigade must defend Sable, the 48th Highlanders will take up a position on the north bank of the river.
(ii)-If they must evacuate Sable, the 48th will take position in the woods to the north.
They awaited daylight during the last kilometres with a great
curiosity. As they rolled up to the station, there was much of confusion on the platform but no sign of threat. A veritable mountain of bicycles told how many refugees had reached Sable.


ESCAPE FROM DEBACLE


ON the Sable railway platform, Colonel Haldenby and Capt.
Johnston were met by a British R.T.O., an officer of the Inniskin-
ing Dragoons. He could not tell them much, but said he had orders
to turn them about. He produced neither the order nor his creden-
tials, and revealed more nervousness than a member of his respected Corps might be expected to show. They should flee! They should get out of Sable-which the excited, or scared R.T.O. shortly did. The situation called for debate, but the advice was accepted. This was after Col. Haldenby felt satisfied the R.T.O. was genuine following an interrogation which probably sprouted the newspaper report that the 48th Highlanders suspected the R.T.O. of Sable was a fifth columnist. The Canadian officers were momentarily doubtful, and it is true the defence in front of the German advance was being confused and softened by daring Germans in disguise, just as they did before the Marne in 1914. But the nervous Dragoon officer said his name was Oates, and he was accepted as valid after his answer to this question by Brigadier Haldenby: "Have you a relative whom I might know?"
The officer thought a moment, then said a relative had been with
Scott to the Antarctic. Brigadier Smith agreed with Col. Haldenby
that a German agent would be unlikely to know of the Capt. Oates who sacrificed his life to try to save Scott and his companions. (Of such strange threads are war destinies spun.)
Yesterday, General Brooke had met both General Weygand and
Georges, and found they did not have a coherent plan to continue
the fight. They had no suggestion on how the situation might yet
be retrieved. They were like bewildered onlookers, watching their
army being cut apart and defeated piecemeal. Weygand dejectly
said, "The French Army is disintegrating into disconnected groups." Georges said there were no reserves-"Not a man, not a vehicle or gun left." This meant General Brooke's hope was as vain to reinforce a composite force from the 7th and l0th French Armies as to further Weygand's idea for a Brittany redoubt.
The numb helplessness of the two French generals, which Brooke
saw, was the mark of a defeatism which had been mounting for days among France's military chiefs. The evil seed of surrender did not first sprout in the French people. It was the French General Staff, who had always considered themselves the traditional masters of land war, who had been first to say: "We have lost the battle." That was within the first few days of the German assault. They were so shocked and demoralized, they were soon saying, "We have lost the war," because they lost the first round.
That the morale of the French General Staff had utterly collapsed was evident on June 17th, when the dean of French Marshals, General Petain, new head of the French Government, announced that he had asked Hitler for an armistice. He did not bother to warn General Brooke before sending the word to the Corporal to dance his famous jig.
It was thus fortunate that General Brooke had seen, and accurately assessed the hopelessness of the French Generals two days before. It was his general order to evacuate France which first reached the R.T.Os. on the French railways on the 15th, and which the 48th heard about at Sable.
Preparations to defend themselves if the rail line were cut, were
made. The entire train was alerted, and all water-bottles filled. All
weapons were loaded. Bren gunners were placed at the doors for quick deployment into the fields. One 48th Company smashed its cars' window glass to avoid splinters if there was bombing. One AA gun had been mounted on a flat car from the beginning, and now another joined it with the help of a single railwayman. They were all gone now except the engineer of the 48th train, and he was an irate man. With fortunate forethought, the C.O. had him held aboard the cab when the rest decamped. He was now expostulating violently; he lived in Sable, and wanted to go home. He wanted out of his cab; he wanted to quit. "Finie le guerre!" he screamed. It was obvious an appeal to his patriotism would be a waste of breath. So the 48th provided "persuaders"-money and alcohol, in the hands of Capt. Darling, who would ride in the engineer's cab, and whose revolver holster's flap was pressed back to add menace.
That was supported by the presence of P.S.M. Jack Laurie, ex-
Hollinger hoist engineer, who said he could run the train. Two men mounted the coal truck, brandishing Tommy guns, and three
others pushed into the cab; they would be stokers. The engineer took a dismayed look at these odds, angrily refused a swig of vin blanc, and made a last attempt to escape. He said he must go and get his breakfast! The C.O. and Capts. Johnston and Darling were furious; the engineer understood the meaning, if not the words of Jack Laurie's growled: "Somebody tell the goddam
Frog he'll eat here--or else!"
It was 4:30 A.M. The entire Battalion was aboard, crowded at
the windows and staring at the early sky, nervously watching for
Stukas. P.S.M. Laurie gave the engine's whistle a defiant little toot and they began to move. As they started back to the coast and safety, and doomed France began falling into the depths, it was easy for the 48th Highlanders to feel they were leaving hell behind them with every clack of their wheels. They felt they were fleeing the debacle just in time.
Colonel Haldenby issued written orders before the Highlanders got away, to take care of contingencies-
(i) All men are to be fully advised of the Situation, and
to be ready to fight.
(ii) In the case of an attack, the train will proceed as far
west as possible.
(iii) If attacked by armoured units, the Battalion will at once detrain to fight off the Germans.
(iv) If the train has to be abandoned, platoons will move
independently as best they can to Nantes or St. Nazaire
(70 miles away).
There was an upgrade now, and they contrived to obtain both a
new engine and a new engineer at Laval before they went on.
At Rennes, they learned the Hastings train had turned about, and was well on its way to Brest. A private soldier of British Movement
Control, still on the job, gave Colonel Haldenby the first specific word that the 1st Brigade was to get back to Brest as it could. This was General Brooke's order catching up. Major Bill Hendrie relieved Capt. Darling on the engine at Bennes; he found the new engineer also considered himself forcibly kidnapped. Within a few miles, it was noticed by Major Merry that they were on the wrong line. At Dol, Major Hendrie reported that the engineer swore he had been instructed at Rennes to go to St. Malo, directly north from Rennes, and offering a shorter run than to Brest. But the French R.T.O. at Dol declared the engineer was a liar; he must have chosen St. Malo himself. He promised to switch them to a secondary line to take them to Brest. He was also either a liar, or the engineer outwitted him, for it was at St. Malo they arrived.

THE MIRACLE OF ST. MALO

The 48th Highlanders were later inclined to call this sequence
of confused events as the miracle of St. Malo; they reached
the ancient port by mistake; only a single ship was still there under orders to evacuate British troops, and they caught it!
It was the S.S. Biarritz, already loaded beyond its normal capacity
with disorganized remnants of escaping B.E.F. units. Fishing boats
on the beach were first investigated, but there were no crews. Colonel Haldenby saw that the entire personnel of the Canadian train must go on the overcrowded Biarritz or be left in France.
There was then an apprehensive wait for the morning tide. St.
Malo was a harbour only by grace of her locks, and the Biarritz was trapped in the basin until the tide rose. Enemy air attack was expected all night long; several other French ports were being heavily bombed, and there was no reason why St. Malo should be immune, but the night passed undisturbed.
Space for 800 in reasonable comfort might have been found aboard the Biarritz, but as daylight was breaking she was carrying more than 2,000. No one cared, or worried about such minor things as life-boats and rafts, especially after a good meal. Their escape ship sailed at 4:00 A.M., the last allied craft to use St. Malo. As they drew beyond the outer lock, a violent explosion shook the sea; the lock had been blown to render St. Malo's harbour useless to the enemy.
As the explosion's reverberations died away over the dark morn escape was close. The port officials were in such a panic they would not have delayed the demolition. A British destroyer (at 0800 hours) and then a flying boat, coming low for a look at them (1100 hours) were both reassuring. They passed the Isle of Wight at 2:00 in the afternoon, and were landing at Southampton three hours later.
They were praying in unison that it would not be Corunna again, as they pulled out of Southampton. The C.O. heard, and decided to hold off knowledge of that unhappy fate as long as possible. He had them brought in at nearby Farnborough. But they knew where they were-Aldershot!-and in deep and blasphemous disgust they dumped their packs in their familiar places in Corunna just before midnight-too late to make the pubs!

THE TRANSPORT AND CARRIERS

Early on the 18th, Lts. Wallace and McLaren arrived back from
Brest, with tales of their anti-aircraft effort, and at 9:30 Lt. Wright turned up with 13 men of the Carrier Platoon; the rest were
coming. They also had a tale to tell. With the Carrier Platoon safely home, the Regiment became seriously worried about the fate of Lt. Mackenzie and his transport drivers. There had been no word. Apprehension grew through the 18th. A list was typed, ready for insertion in Orders, under the heading: "The following are SOS, missing believed prisoners-of-war..."
When they arrived on the 19th, they were greeted like men escaped from a prisoners' cage. Their story completed the account of the great Canadian snafu."We came back to England in style," related Lt. Mackenzie, "crowded into a little pleasure launch which would have looked at home on Toronto Bay." They landed at Falmouth.
On the 20th, Ottawa had received a report that perhaps 100
to 200 Canadians might be missing, left behind in France, but this
dwindled to 6 men. Only 1 remained a prisoner until the end of
the war, a member of the Hastings; 1 man was killed in a road accident; the other 4 men escaped, including Pte. George Thompson of the 48th Highlanders. He had been attached to Brigade, and was taken violently ill while near Sable. It was obvious he had acute appendicitis, and must have immediate medical attention. He was rushed to a civilian hospital, and admitted only because he was an emergency case. His friends left, feeling they were forsaking him, leaving him helpless in the hands of the enemy. That was soon true; he was taken prisoner. (Foray to France Postscript (3): Pte. Thompson learned French while acting as a hospital orderly; with the help of the Underground he escaped through Spain into Portugal, and reach Gourock, Scotland, on March 17th, 1941.)
A total of 136,000 British troops, 20,000 Poles and 310 guns were evacuated from France during June 17th and 18th. it was a second Dunkirk, but without the pressure; there was no enemy interference except from the air. Because saving vehicles was less important than saving men, the 1st Canadian Division lost 216 of their new Canadian vehicles. All Canadian guns were saved. There was ample time to save every vehicle, too, but an element of pure panic gripped the officials at all the French ports, perhaps because Dunkirk was such a recent memory. At Brest, the evacuation was carried out in such an atmosphere of needless desperation there was failure to utilize the full cargo space available. The R.C.H.A. saved its guns only after vociferous argument with the port authorities, and was moved to record disgustedly in its diary: "Although there was evidently no enemy within 200 miles, the withdrawal was conducted as a rout."
The best that can he said is that the evacuation fitted the pattern of the rest of the operation. The foray to France by the Canadians in June, 1940, had started in confusion, and it seemed ordained to finish in confusion. It would have ended in much worse had it not been for the judgement, decision and resolution of General Alan Brooke, who won Churchill's agreement to evacuate the British Army---in time.