Dunkirk Deserves Attention—but It Was No Miracle
The real god of war is memory, because the actual objective of war is the creation of myth. National memory is base metal forged into national myth, and from war stories spring a people’s sacred identity.
Dunkirk is the memory, now myth, that reforged British identity and built it anew. The privation and sacrifice of defeat became the beginning of a national rebirth.
Yet this happy outcome required a victory—not on the battlefield, but rather in the place that matters most in war—in the story. Even while the battle was still raging, threads of a triumphant narrative were being self-consciously woven, from Mr. Churchill to Tommy.
The new movie “Dunkirk” has subtly repackaged the mythic tropes of this now-eternal story. At the end of a calamitous campaign, here was the very cream of Allied power, the very best of the French Armée and the British Expeditionary Force (BEF), reduced to a hopeless beachhead under a pitiless Wehrmacht full-court press.
The literary tropes that came after Dunkirk, however, worked to create a very different sacred narrative: (1) The Nazi war machine could have seized the Allied army whole, but the German hesitated: Not once, but twice. (2) It was a miracle to get the army off in the face of Stukas and U-boats. (3) Had the BEF been lost, Britain would have been broken and wide open to invasion.
This Dunkirk narrative, for every British generation since, is a stirring, reach-for-the-handkerchiefs story, and it deserves to be respun yet again for the cinematic memory of new young generations. Britons should be forever proud of their achievement. Dunkirk was indeed a heroically disordered strategic retreat.
But it was no miracle. Yet “miracle” is crucial to Britons’ neon-lit narrative. It is their miracle moreover that delivers the sacred message: Britain indomitable, moving from sacrifice to rebirth—to victory.
It is a mistake, however, to rework sacred narrative entirely into literature. To do so is to lead the national identity toward collective overconfidence and complacency, to the point that it forgets what really happened. Dunkirk, the story, is worth at least a modest reminder on that score.
First, the highly conservative top Wehrmacht leadership got suddenly cautious approaching the trapped Allied army. German lines of communication were overextended, armor had outrun infantry, and the BEF was suddenly fierce in counterattacks and defense.
Top generals are scolded for this, but their caution illustrates a reality in campaigning that myth encourages us to forget: In war, even the most decisive campaigns do not go perfectly. It is, however, in the interest of the Dunkirk narrative that the Germans seem invincible and unstoppable, only then to let the British and French slip away. The trope of German “mistakes” fits smartly into a longstanding element of British sacred narrative—namely, that of the “plucky” or “doughty” army escaping in the face of an overwhelming enemy. Here, the enemy is denied the vernichstungsschlacht (battle of annihilation) that they have already boasted is theirs. Thus, in robbing the enemy of their victory-expectation, the British earn a kind of victory. Thomas Moore’s sacrifice at Corunna in 1809 is the prototype and model for this unique English victory-narrative.
Hence, right after the battle, Dunkirk’s memory could be repackaged. Suddenly it was no national calamity, but actually a moral and strategic victory.
Second, Wehrmacht and Führer “loss of ball control” leads into the crucial trope of Dunkirk as a “miracle.” On the level of sacred myth, miracle hearkens explicitly to divine intervention (an Episcopal priest first made this linkage in his homily right after the battle). God and Britannia look after the empire.
On another level, a miraculous outcome also reinforces the weight and depth of Britain’s victory claim. Succor, so the story goes, rightly should never have happened. Hence, some elemental force deep in the heart of the nation rose up and transcended in the face of certain doom. The legend of motor yacht, pinnace and cockelshell heroes is essential to the salvational myth of Dunkirk.
But there was, literally, no miracle. The defense of the Dunkirk “pocket” was gallant and stubborn. But surrounded armies can often hold out for weeks. A comparably sized army in Stalingrad held out against bitter Soviet assaults for eleven weeks during peak Russian winter, with only a trickle of resupply. Backs against the wall, British and French forces held. Not a miracle, just good fighting spirit.