The time is May 1940. The place is the French shore. A place called Dunkirk. The longest contiguous beach in all of the continent of Europe.
The British Army Expeditionary Force, battered and beaten but not bested, has retreated to this thin, long strip of sand in an attempt to find passage back to their Anglo-Saxon shores so that they might fight again against the Kaiser and his seemingly unstoppable armies.
The call goes out within the shoreline communities of England - “Boats! We need Boats!”. The Admiralty commissions the Royal Navy to take possession of any craft that can navigate the perilous journey across the fabled Channel and rescue England’s fighting men.
Two of the ships that were enrolled in this effort were owned by two brothers. One, a Frenchman named Le Chiffre, was called the Aurora Star. The other, it’s sister ship, was christened the Empress Store and was owned by an Englishman named Henry McMuffin.
Both ships successfully navigated the Channel and made port at the small, rocky jetty that served as a jumping off point for the thousands of stranded English troops.
Both captains onboarded as many troops as they could hold, but immediately started to take on water from the forward bilges. The ships were too heavy. McMuffin and Le Chiffre exchanged glances with furrowed brow each and immediately realized what must be done.
You see, both ships were pleasure craft that left Dover on the weekends and offered hard working English citizens the opportunity to enjoy a night of revelry and gambling. They had several thousand pounds of gaming tables and tokens in their holds and on their decks.
They knew this equipment was irreplaceable - but each Captain also swiftly came to the awful realization that there was going to be a war in Europe - perhaps even more terrible than the Great War 22 yards prior. They knew full well that they couldn’t beat the Luftwaffe and the Werchmacht and Hitler with roulette wheels and craps tables. A decision - a momentous decision - needed to be made.
They did what King and Country demanded they do - with terrible resignation yet firm resolve, they dumped the contents of their gaming equipment over the side into the cold, dark, murky swirling waters of the English Channel.
Fast forward to years later. The chips wash ashore at Gloulanchaster on Shiite, where they are found in a remarkably well preserved state by a small boy who was the son of a local Yak herder.
The chips made their way to E-Bay and other on-line marketplaces, and eventually flooded the PCF market.
Today, the chips are worth several multiples of their original value. And not just because of their aesthetic appeal - but also because of the small yet significant part they played in the War to save all of Europe from death and destruction.
PS The Evacuation at Dunkirk was not a group buy. I talked to someone who was there, fwiw.
