Dunkirk explain

Did they do it?

Then out spake brave La Roche,
The captain of the shore:
“Though all the hosts of iron Hell
Beat down our every door
Yet here, beneath this smokèd sky,
Where thunders shake the sand,
We few shall hold the western line
For France, and for the land!”
The sea was red with falling flame,
The sky with ash was grey,
And steel and fire from every side
Tore through the light of day.
But still the weary soldiers stood,
With rifles scorched and bare,
While over dunes the columns ran
The living from despair.
They came not clad in glory’s gold,
Nor trumpets sang their name;
They bore the soot and blood of war,
And yet, they played the game.
Not theirs to charge with sabres drawn,
Not theirs to rout the foe
But theirs to stand while others fled,
And die, yet strike a blow.
“Now, if ye be the sons of France,”
Brave La Roche loudly cried,
“Then plant your boots upon this earth
And hold it till you’ve died!
For every hour we hold them back
Is life for kin and King,
And every minute’s bought with flame
But buys a precious wing!”
They held the roads to Calais firm,
And blocked the path to sea,
While bullets sang their devil’s hymn
Through every shattered tree.
Around them fell the stately homes,
The towers proud and grand,
But none could break the iron hearts
That held that broken strand.
The tanks rolled in like midnight storms,
Their tread a funeral beat,
But Frenchmen rose with fire and steel,
And would not taste defeat.
Though ammo failed and hope grew thin,
Though no relief would come,
They held their ground with bayonet,
And made the silence drum.
Then spake the foe with cruel grin,
“Why fight, when none shall save?”
But still La Roche with laughter cried,
“We fight to build the grave!
The grave of shame, the grave of fear,
That none shall ever see
For though we fall, our stand shall rise
In Frenchmen yet to be!”
They fought till dusk and through the night,
Till all the stars were blind,
And still they held the smoking line
With body, soul, and mind.
Till ships at sea had cleared the strand,
Till boys became the men,
And thanks to those who stayed behind
The world would fight again.
So let the bards remember them,
Who stood when all was dire
The few who bore a nation’s weight
Through mud, and blood, and fire.
Though none may know each soldier’s name,
Their valor shall not cease:
For they who stood at Dunkirk’s line
Have earned their peace.