In Trail 66, we return to the Bedfordshire and Northamptonshire borderlands to visit the site of a former bomber airfield that has been almost entirely erased from the landscape. Although its wartime service was relatively brief, it was defined by intense operational pressures, loss, and remarkable acts of heroism.

Despite continuing in use well into the Cold War and beyond, the airfield failed to leave the regional mark it deserved. Over time, its purpose changed and its structures were gradually removed, the land being adapted to modern energy use, leaving little visible evidence of its former importance. This transformation stands in contrast to the role the station once played and the legacy it holds today.

Home to a small number of RAF units, it was predominately an American base during the Second World War, and remained with them into the depths of the Cold War. Although flying activity ceased in 1962 with the departure of the modern United States Air Force, a military presence remained there until the Ministry Of Defence (MOD) sold the site as recently as 2005.

Whilst some aspects of the original airfield do remain, the vast majority has been decommissioned and removed, including the runways, works buildings and training facilities, leaving little more than ghostly evidence behind.

In this part of our trip to Northants and Bedfordshire, we visit the former RAF Chelveston.

RAF Chelveston (Station 105).

RAF Chelveston (Station 105) lies across the two counties of  Bedfordshire and Northamptonshire, and although the border crosses roughly through the centre, the majority of the site lies in Northampton. Like many wartime airfields it went through a series of name changes depending upon who owned  it at the time. Today it is known as Chelveston Renewable Energy Park, reflecting its modern use as the ‘centre of technological innovation’ capable of producing enough electricity, to power 60,000 properties.*¹

During the planning stages in 1940 the aerodrome site was briefly referred to as Shelton, after the nearby village to the east. Before the station officially opened in 1941, however, the name was changed and it entered service as RAF Chelveston, the official British designation. Later in the war the airfield passed into American control and was designated Station 105 by the United States Army Air Force. Over the years though, it was also referred to as RAF Station Chelveston, and simply Chelveston Aerodrome, reflecting both its early planning name and the variety of roles it fulfilled throughout its operational history.

The land upon which the airfield sits, lies approximately four miles to the east of Rushden and about twenty-seven miles south-west of Peterborough. It shares a region – designated by a Peterborough, Northampton and Bedford triangle – with a number of other former bomber airfields including Kimbolton, Thurleigh and Molesworth.

The land for Chelveston (a name derived from a Norman family) was acquired by the Air Ministry in 1940, with construction beginning shortly afterwards. The airfield was initially intended for the RAF and the reformed 8 Group, with Taylor-Woodrow Ltd serving as the main contractor. At first, it had grass runways and minimal storage, consisting of a single ‘J’-type brick-and-metal hangar measuring 300 ft by 151 ft. Later, two ‘T2’-type metal hangars were added, each 240 ft long, 115 ft wide, and 29 ft high. The original design fell under development scheme ‘M’ of the Government’s expansion programme, which essentially replaced the earlier ‘C’-type hangars with the newer ‘J’-type. Since construction began during the war rather than before it, accommodation sites were dispersed away from the main airfield site – unlike pre-war designs, where living quarters were typically located on-site.

At Chelveston, these accommodation sites were positioned to the south-west of the airfield, unusually close to the main runway’s flightpath – in-fact within just a few hundred feet of its threshold. In all there were twelve accommodation sites, supplemented by two sewerage sites, giving a total of fourteen in all. These accommodation areas included: two communal sites, officers’ quarters, enlisted men’s quarters, sick quarters, and a large WAAF area with its own sewerage facilities.

The all important technical area, lay directly across the dividing public road from here; a little further north than the accommodation area and on the western side of the main airfield. It included a wide range of buildings including: MT (motor transport) sheds, operations blocks, briefing rooms, link trainers, stores, flight offices, works offices and the like.

Typical of the range of buildings found on any wartime airfield, they were a mix of both temporary and permanent construction. The manufacturers involved were also typical of those pertaining to wartime airfields: Laing, Romney, SECO, Ministry of Works and Nissen, who used a variety of construction materials including timber, iron, plasterboard, brick and concrete to create these various standard design structures.

On the main airfield itself, No. 1 runway ran north-east to south-west, whilst No. 2 dissected it in a north-west to south-east direction. The third runway, No.3, ran just off north to south. The classic ‘A’ frame was created by the crossing of all three in the centre of the airfield with the runways extending extensively beyond this point. As in all cases, the three runways were linked by a circular perimeter track, around which eventually, some fifty-five hardstands were built; both a mix of ‘spectacle’ and ‘frying-pan’ types.

As with all airfields of its kind, a bomb store would be incorporated well away from the accommodation and technical areas, and in Chelveston’s case this was just off to the north-east. Here, a number of hardened shelters were interlinked by small tracks along which the bombs were transported to the various aircraft dispersals.

Bombs being man-handled at Chelveston. (IWM FRE10440).

Overseeing movements in and out of the airfield was the watch office, which stood proud with clear views across the airfield. Located to the western side of the site, the office was built to drawing 518/40 – the largest and most common wartime design. This particular build evolved from the 1939 drawing, number 5845/39, and incorporated the meteorological office within its layout. By combining both functions into a single structure, it enabled the rapid exchange of vital weather information.

1941 – From Opening to Operational Beginnings:

Chelveston airfield officially opened its doors on August 15th 1941, as RAF Chelveston, and initially fell under the control of Flying Officer J.B. Townsend, 2 Group, RAF Bomber Command. Still in the process of construction, the airfield was parented by RAF Polebrook, a relationship that dissolved upon Chelveston gaining its full self-governing status on 2nd September that same year.

To provide protection from attack, RAF Podington (now the Santa Pod drag strip) was allocated as a satellite station, and a decoy or ‘Q’ site (Q144A) was constructed at Swineshead. In addition to these measures, an airfield defence unit, 2819 Defence Squadron, was established here with twelve Bofor anti-aircraft guns, providing protection from any roaming enemy aircraft.

Immediately on transfer of the airfield to the RAF, permission was granted to extend the three runways, the main from 4,100 ft to 6,000 ft and the second from 3,700 ft to 4,167 ft. The third, would remain at 3,700 ft for the time being. These extensions, along with further general updating, would eventually bring the airfield up to the Class ‘A’ standard format, making it suitable for the allied heavy bomber fleet. However, progress was slow, and this degree of modernisation would not be achieved for another two years or so.

Construction work therefore continued well into 1942. In addition to the runway extensions, the bulk of the ‘frying pan’ style dispersals were also added, and the accommodation area was extended, enabling upward of some 3,000 personnel to be located here. The bomb store was also added at this point, and the technical area was extended to include a wider range of technical buildings and stores.

The RAF’s 2 Group remained in control of Chelveston for only two months, ownership then transferring to 8 Group in October 1941. 8 Group were a former World War 1 group, who would go on to disband and reform again later, as the famous ‘Pathfinders’ under Donald Bennett.

Although 8 Group was a bomber group, Chelveston’s first resident flying unit would not reflect that role. The new runways, not yet fully completed and strengthened, were incapable of bearing the heavy loads imposed by Bomber Command’s aircraft. Instead, The small, light aircraft of the Central Gunnery School (CGS) were brought in as a temporary measure, giving the unit a much-needed operating base. Lacking a permanent home and  sufficient space to operate, the school also maintained a presence at nearby RAF Thurleigh, effectively dividing its activities between the two airfields. The CGS was a long standing organisation, made up of  several components including the Pilot Gunnery Instructor’s Training Wing, and were destined to eventually move to RAF Sutton Bridge in Lincolnshire. The CGS, being a training unit, trained  gunnery instructors for both fighters and bombers.

From British Training to American Arrival: Chelveston in Transition

The CGS remained at Chelveston only briefly, departing in stages during February and March 1942 once the extension and upgrading works had been largely completed. Initially, part of the training wing relocated to RAF Wittering in Cambridgeshire, before re-joining the remainder of the unit at Sutton Bridge in Lincolnshire the following month. Once reunited, the CGS became one of the largest, single training establishments of the war.

The lull at Chelveston between the CGS’s departure and the arrival of its successor proved far from uneventful though. On 8th May 1942, a tragic accident occurred – and one that was witnessed by only a handful of observers. On that day, a visiting Wellington IC (R1412) of No. 21 OTU, RAF Moreton-in-Marsh, landed at Chelveston and promptly began transferring aircrew to another aircraft preparing to depart. One of the passengers – Air Gunner Sgt. Matthew Callaghan (s/n: 1069247), RAFVR – stepped down from the Wellington and headed over towards the waiting aircraft. Distracted momentarily, he misjudged his position and was killed when he ran into a spinning propellor of the Wellington. He was just a week short of his 27th birthday.*²*³

The tragedy didn’t stop progress though, and two days later a small detachment of the Airborne Forces Experimental Establishment (AFEE)*⁴ arrived at Chelveston. This small unit was present to test airborne equipment and techniques – the methods and apparatus used to transport men and materiel to the battlefield.

Tracing its origins to the Central Landing School at RAF Ringway in June 1940, the AFEE was established in response to Churchill’s directive for a corps of expert parachutists; later expanding its remit to include gliders and, eventually, rotary-wing aircraft.

At Chelveston though, the newly developed AFEE would use Airspeed Horsa gliders along with their tow aircraft, both the Whitley and the Short Stirling, to test safe loading methods for a range of equipment. A specialist unit, they would go on to test both the General Aircraft Hotspur glider and the Hamilcar, adding to those which provided much needed transport to the continent on both D-day and in Operation ‘Market Garden’.

It was during one of these trials, on 3rd June 1942, that the airframe of Hotspur BT500, suffered severe stress resulting in the aircraft breaking up in mid-air near to the small village of Denford in Northamptonshire. Luckily, the two crew, both of whom were Polish, managed to bale out of the glider, one suffering minor injuries as he did so.

Later in that same June, Chelveston received its second airborne group, an arrival that suggested a potential new owner in the months to come. The American unit, the 60th Transport Group (TG), comprised of the 10th, 11th and 12th Transport Squadrons operating a variant of the C-47 Dakota.  They arrived in staggered sections bringing with them ninety-three officers along with 727 other ranks and fifty-two aircraft all under the command of Lieutenant Colonel A. J. Kerwin Malone. *⁵

This initial American allocation, would indeed lead to a new ownership of RAF Chelveston. But, with no immediate official ceremony, the change was gradual, and ownership wouldn’t be cemented until the end of the year once all the resident British units had departed.

Activated on 1st December 1940, at Olmsted Air Field in Pennsylvania, the 60th Transport Group was one of the oldest transport groups in the United States Army Air Force, and is said  to be the first to deploy overseas to the European theatre of operations*⁶. Following its initial training period, the unit prepared for overseas service, with the ground echelon crossing to the United Kingdom onboard the Queen Elizabeth, while the air echelon made the longer, northern transatlantic journey via Greenland; arriving in England around 12th June 1942.

On arrival, the men of the 60th were formally briefed on their conduct both on and off the station, and reflecting common fears of attack, were instructed to carry firearms at all times. Supported by a detachment of RAF personnel led by Squadron Leader Clayton, they also received instruction on the operation of British airfields and the complexities of a busy UK airspace.

Initially, the group’s role centred on transporting goods between air depots and operational airfields, but this sedate role was soon changed to training with the US Army’s airborne 2nd Battalion, 503rd Parachute Infantry Regiment. This relationship lead to the battalion’s first parachute jump over England. As their responsibilities grew, the 60th also began training for specialised operations, a shift formally recognised in mid-July 1942 with its redesignation as the 60th Troop Carrier Group.

Paratroopers of the 503rd US Parachute Infantry Regiment prepare to board a C-47 Skytrain of the 60th Troop Carrier Group.. Another C-47 (serial number 41-7767) is visible in the background (Not Chelveston FRE3377).

However, the 60th’s stay at Chelveston would also be short lived; in early August, they departed the airfield stopping off briefly at RAF Aldermaston before transiting to the 12th Air Force and the North Africa campaign. On departure, they took the airborne forces with whom they had been training, with them. Whilst in North Africa, they would take part in many airborne operations including both the invasion of Sicily and the liberation of Greece, remaining in the Mediterranean theatre for the duration of the war.

The departure of the 60 TCG was not as smooth as one would wish for however. The poor British weather hampered the move, causing it to be delayed on several occasions. When it did finally get away, the second section had to make an unscheduled stop at a nearby airfield as it was approached by a lone German Me110 fighter. Intercepted by RAF Spitfires, the roaming 110 was quickly despatched and the TCG were allowed to continue on their way unhampered. *⁷

After their departure, Chelveston received a series of visits and inspections by senior Allied figures. These visits sparked rumours of an impending change in operations, and began with Group Captain Donald ‘Don’ Bennett, commander of the newly-formed Pathfinder Force within RAF Bomber Command, who was accompanied by Colonel Duncan of the USAAF. A few days later, the airfield was visited by Brigadier General Ira C. Eaker. It was in the aftermath of Eaker’s visit that ownership of Chelveston truly changed, marking the beginning of a new chapter in the airfield’s long and distinguished career.

Chelveston Goes to War: Early Operations of the 301st

A change in management led to Major Kincaid (USAAF) assuming responsibility for the control of RAF Chelveston just before the station’s first formal operational unit, the USAAF’s 301st Bombardment Group (BG), was preparing to arrive. His oversight ensured that the transition from a training and transit airfield to an active bomber station proceeded smoothly.

With Chelveston now upgraded to accommodate heavy bombers, the newly arrived B‑17F Flying Fortresses of the 301st BG became the first operational aircraft to fly from the airfield. In taking up residence, the group inherited the original ‘J’-type hangar, a distinctive but unusual feature on USAAF bases, as few American stations were equipped with them.

The 301st’s journey to the UK began at Geiger Field in  Washington, before flying the northern route via Greenland and Iceland to Prestwick, arriving here with twenty aircraft, 115 officers, one warrant officer and 1,395 enlisted men.

On arriving at Chelveston in mid-August 1942, the group was far from operational readiness, a situation compounded by the lack of accommodation for all four squadrons. As a temporary measure, the 352nd Bomb Squadron moved to the satellite station at RAF Poddington. It was not until 2nd September, when the RAF anti-aircraft regiment transferred from Chelveston to RAF Ludham in Norfolk, that the squadron could return, reuniting the group once more.

With all four squadrons, the 32nd, 352nd, 353rd, and 419th, all now together at Chelveston, operations could begin, and it wouldn’t be long before they did.

As with most early operations, the first few were to coastal targets in France and the low countries, considered easier targets or ‘milk runs’, they were initially designed to acclimatise crews to combat conditions.

The Group’s initiation to the European theatre occurred on 2nd  September 1942. An operation that took them to the locomotive engine sheds at Rouen. During the operation, twelve aircraft jointly from the 352nd and 419th set off to drop their payload on the target. Two aircraft returned early, one from each squadron, leaving the remainder to drop their 40 x 1,000lb bombs on the locomotive sheds. With no losses, it was a relatively successful start to their wartime journey.

The 301st would be in action again on the 6th, with thirteen aircraft despatched but only eleven being effective. On this occasion, the Eighth AF suffered their first heavy bomber losses with two aircraft (one each from the 92nd and 97th Bomb Groups) going down; the 301st on the other hand would see all their aircraft return. With two more ‘uneventful’ operations on the 7th and the 26th, September drew to a close with little to report.

The first casualties for the group occurred on October 2nd, with a twenty-five ship operation to the Meaulte aircraft factory. Whilst all aircraft returned, one was forced to crash land at RAF Gatwick after three of the aircrew on board were wounded by enemy fighter attacks.

The 301st BG found itself squarely in the sights of the Luftwaffe that day, and at the rear of the formation B-17 41‑24397 ‘Phyllis’ bore the worst of the punishment. As the tail-end Charlie, she was repeatedly singled out by attacking Fw-190s. One pass after another tearing into the aircraft, smashing the top turret and badly wounding the gunner inside. Moments later the outboard starboard engine began to run wildly out of control, while further damage left the inboard engine completely dead.

With control cables severed, ‘Phyllis’ pitched violently, rearing into a steep climb that the crew struggled to contain. As if the situation were not already desperate, part of the oxygen system failed, further increasing the danger faced by those on board. Damage to the wing and control surfaces meant that simply holding level flight demanded the full attention and cooperation of the entire crew, and even then it could not be sustained for long.

At last, British soil came into view. Spotting the first airfield they could, the pilot headed for RAF Gatwick. Given the aircraft’s battered condition and the risks involved, they elected to make a wheels-up landing – often the safest option under such circumstances. ‘Phyllis’ came down and skidded across the airfield, clipping a hangar before finally safely coming to a rest.

B-17 ‘Phyllis’ of the 301st BG after crash-landing at RAF Gatwick. (IWM UPL 36745).

Only afterwards did the full extent of her ordeal become clear. The aircraft was found to have absorbed around 300 small-calibre hits, at least sixteen cannon shell penetrations, and evidence of concentrated fire around the tail. Three members of the crew had been wounded, and it was little short of remarkable that the bomber had remained airborne for as long as it did. That survival owed much to the skill and determination of the pilots, the teamwork of the crew, and the inherent strength of the B-17’s construction.*⁸

A subsequent mission on the 9th October to the Compagnie de Fives steel works at Lille, France, saw further casualties for the 301st, and for the first time, an Eighth Air Force bomber ditching in the sea.

The B-17, 41-24362, piloted by 1st. Lt. Donald M. Swenson, was badly damaged by fighters knocking out or damaging, three of the four engines, causing the aircraft to lose altitude rapidly. Swenson, with the intercom out of action, gave the controls to the co-pilot and went back to instruct each member of the crew to prepare for ditching. With rough seas, it was not going to be easy, and even though the crew were prepared, some were caught off guard by the 15 – 20 foot swell and were thrown about the aircraft causing minor injuries as they did so.

After the aircraft came to rest on the water, most of the crew escaped through the gun port, while the pilot and co-pilot forced their way out through the cockpit windows. To their dismay, only one of the life rafts proved serviceable, the other having been damaged by gunfire in the attacks. Three of the airmen were able to climb aboard the intact raft, while the remainder could do no more than cling to its sides. Having discarded their sheepskin flying jackets – which quickly became waterlogged and dangerously heavy – they remained in the sea roughly a mile off North Foreland (Margate).

Luckily on the way down,  the radio operator had sent out a may-day giving their position to the RAF’s Rescue Service who were quickly on the scene. Once there, they managed to successfully retract each crewmember from the water.

But, the story behind the aircraft goes a little deeper than being the first successful ditching by a USAAF aircraft. The B-17 was initially earmarked for RAF service, as a MK II FA667,  through the lend-lease agreement, but was diverted to the USAAF at the last minute. Then, on only its third operation with the 301st, and just before the aircraft departed on its flight, one of the ground crew, M. Sgt. Glenn Doerr, persuaded the pilot to allow him to fly with them without official permission – a decision he would no doubt regret. However, his part in the rescue of the crew must have played a large part in redeeming his misdemeanour, no doubt, thereby, reducing the severity of his punishment on his return to Chelveston.

On November 8th, the 301st would perform their final mission as part of the 8th Air Force, as on the 23rd, a mere three months after their arrival in the UK, they were ordered to relocate to the 12th Air Force in Algeria.

Like the 60th TCG, the 301st (and 97th at Polebrook), were all ordered out under the direction of Roosevelt, who, influenced by Churchill, sent units to bolster the war in North Africa. Churchill – fearing that an inadequate invasion force sent to Northern France would be decimated – persuaded Roosevelt to postpone the invasion and concentrate on bolstering the Africa campaign instead.

Eisenhower, the commander picked by Roosevelt to lead Operation Torch, was bitterly opposed to the plan, and when Henry H. Arnold (General of the Army; Commanding General, U.S. Army Air Forces) was informed, he too was furious. The move would strip back the fledgling Eighth Air Force, almost killing it before it even got off the ground.

Despite their misgivings though, the various groups departed the UK and headed for North Africa, the 301st leaving Chelveston far behind.

During their brief tenure at the airfield, the 301st completed just eight operational missions, losing just a single aircraft in actual combat. Between the 8th and 23rd of the month they were formally designated ‘non-operational’ while preparations for their relocation were put in hand.

Their departure was marked by a visit from King George VI, who toured the station in the company of Col. R. Walker, Commanding Officer of the 301st, and Squadron Leader Robert Clayton.

King George VI with Colonel Robert Walker and Squadron Leader Robert Clayton during a visit to the 301st Bomb Group at Chelveston. (IWM FRE 9802).

The 301st’s departure from Chelveston on 26th November, would then leave the airfield all but empty and ready for a new group, and it would be another B-17 group, the 305th, that would fill that space.

These early battles gave great hope for the men of the 8th Air Force, with low losses they were perhaps, lured into a false sense of security and feelings of an easy battle ahead. But all that was to be washed away, when over the coming months, the 8th would become battle hardened and severely scarred.

Forging the ‘Can-Do’ Group: Col. Curtis LeMay and the 305th Bombardment Group

The 305th, who arrived here in early December 1942, were led by the tough and innovative Col. Curtis LeMay whose drive and leadership led to the rookie 305th, being known as the ‘Can do’ Group.

LeMay was a very quiet man, but commanded respect from those beneath him. He was slightly forgiving, but he would not tolerate being lied to. LeMay, never having been in battle himself, forged his career in the United States where he learnt every detail of the B-17, the bomber he was about to take to war. LeMay looked to the likes of Col. Armstrong for guidance, asking him question after question about his experiences and tactics, absorbing his advise like a sponge. Many of Armstrong’s answers he took strictly at face value, however, only to realise later, that perhaps Armstrong was not the man LeMay thought he was.

Through his leadership style, LeMay earned the title of ‘Iron Ass’, a grudging respect from those who followed him. The 305th, led by LeMay, would be a forward thinking group, one who would go on to develop pioneering methods of aerial bombing and battle formation flying.

The heavy armament of the B-17 gave the highest level of protection when in a tight formation, each gun covering a wide arc thus protecting all the others in the group. By forming a ‘box’, this level of protection was at its highest, a style developed by the 305th. With bombing accuracy becoming a major issue for the USAAF, the idea of a lead crew, was another idea stemming from the experiences of the 305th and LeMay. By having a single lead upon whom the whole formation would bomb, accuracy was improved and concentrations of bombs in the target area increased. Both these methods became standard operating procedures throughout the 8th Air Force during the Second World War.

The 305th like the 301st before them, and now their sister squadron the 306th at Thurleigh, were amongst the first few units to arrive in the UK, and as newbies with no battle experience, they faced an incredibly long and steep learning curve.

The 305th arrived in the UK forming initially at RAF Grafton Underwood around September 12th, 1942, bringing together both the ground and air echelons as they prepared to commence operations over Europe. The mud and cold that greeted them would quickly become their bed-partner, remaining with them for the duration of their wartime lives.

The conditions at Grafton were appalling and the airfield was totally unfit for a bomber unit. It would take an enormous amount of upgrading and huge renovations to improve it. This would mean the newly arrived 305th would have to move out, a move that signalled the beginning of their time at Chelveston. Over the Period 6th to 11th December, they transferred across, a temporary measure that quickly became permanent lasting the duration of the war.

Their journey to Chelveston began back at Salt Lake City where they were activated on March 1st 1942. They spent a large part of their training at Muroc Lake Air base (now Edwards Air Force base) before the ground echelon sailed on Queen Mary in early September, arriving at Greenock on 12th. The air echelon meanwhile didn’t leave until October, advanced flight training taking place at Syracuse, New York, in the weeks prior to their departure. Flying the usual northern route they brought their B-17Fs via Presque Isle, Gander and Prestwick, before routing to Grafton underwood.

Following Roosevelt’s controversial slimming down of the Eighth, the 305th, together with the 91st, 303rd and 306th, formed the only B-17 groups remaining in the command, while the 44th and 93rd were its sole B-24 units. Collectively, they constituted the backbone of an Eighth Air Force, stripped to little more than this handful of operational groups – a striking force reduced to a shadow of its intended strength. But then, even that would be cut back, with elements of the B-24s being sent to North Africa as well, and not returning to the UK until the following summer after which time, the B-17s had ‘flown the US’s flag’ over occupied Europe.

Fearing that heavy losses would catastrophically reduce the remaining groups to a handful of aircraft and crews, Spatz and Eaker mounted relatively ‘safe’ operations, those featuring little penetration into the European stronghold. However, the chances of loses, even at those short distances, continued to remain high.

Tactics and Innovation: The 305th’s Early Combat Lessons

The 305th’s first mission would happen a month after their arrival at Grafton on 17th November 1942 against the U-boat pens at St. Nazaire.  It was during these early missions that the Luftwaffe pilots worked out that a full frontal attack on a B-17 would target it’s weakest point – a blind spot in the gunners forward arc. Here, the fighters had both a better chance of survival and the ability to cripple an aircraft by killing both its pilot and co-pilot in a well aimed attack.

To combat this weakness. two innovative Thurleigh ground crew  devised a method by which the nose guns could be moved and supported thus filling the gap in the arc. After developing and trialling the new fixture, the system quickly became standard fittings on later B-17s across the air force.

For the 305th, the otherwise fierce attack of 17th November proved a rare exception: they returned without a single casualty – one of only a handful of units to do so – despite nearly a quarter of the dispatched aircraft sustaining damage from concentrated machine-gun and cannon fire.

These early battles highlighted a stark reality: losses and damage were disproportionately high when set against the relatively small numbers of aircraft taking part. LeMay, latched onto this, and quickly became the driving force behind efforts to improve both survival and bombing effectiveness.

After being told by Armstrong never to fly straight and level for more than a few seconds on the bomb run, LeMay did exactly the opposite, leading his group for some 4 minutes toward the target. Whilst this tactic was indeed a gamble, the 305th’s bombing record was soon to be far in excess of other groups especially those who followed the Armstrong doctrine.

LeMay, encouraged by these successes, also began experimenting with new combat formations, seeking a balance between maximising defensive firepower and reducing the risk of bombers damaging one another in the chaos of fighter attacks. His solution was the development of the staggered ‘box’ formation, arranged both vertically and horizontally. To preserve bombing accuracy and avoid aircraft jostling for position, all bombers would release their loads simultaneously on the lead aircraft’s command. These methods proved to be so effective that they were also quickly adopted as standard practice throughout the entire Eighth Air Force.

Crews, Combat, and Cinematic Fame: Chelveston in 1943

Back in the United States, interest in joining the Army Air Forces remained high, fuelled in part by carefully crafted propaganda films designed to sustain public support and encourage enlistment. During the winter of 1942–43, both Bassingbourn and Chelveston became film locations for director William Wyler, who was already renowned for Mrs Miniver. His documentary-style productions would immortalise one particular B-17 – ‘Memphis Belle’, securing her place as perhaps the most famous Flying Fortress of them all.

Despite all these ventures back home, the USAAF remained an infant unit, who faced  an ever increasing number and ferocity of air battles as 1943 dawned.  The cold of January 3rd would see the 305th leading yet another attack on the submarine pens at St. Nazaire, which had so far proven indestructible. Not only were there heavy and accurate flak batteries protecting them, but the pen’s walls, over 9m thick, were impenetrable by any current weapon in the military arsenal.

For the bombers, the long, straight run in to the target seemed like running a gauntlet, met with a well-planned barrage placed in front of the bombers, it was a daunting sight for any crew to face. It was so fierce, that of the eighty-five aircraft sent out that day, seven were classified as missing, whilst more than half of those remaining suffered flak damage of varying degrees.

Carrying 1,000 lb General Purpose bombs, some 171 tonnes were released, a mere drop in the ocean compared to figures achieved later in the war – and it barely scratched the surface of the pens.

Although seen as a successful operation, it had seen the highest loss of the 8th Air Force’s war so far, and with two aircraft crash landing on return after getting lost – the lack of experience of these fledging crews was becoming evermore evident.

Despite the losses and cold though, there was no let up for the crews of the 305th. On the 27th January, they were once again in the winter skies. This time it would be Germany itself, and the 8th Air Force’s first venture in the Nazi airspace.

The target for the day was Vegesack on the Wesser river, seen as a priority target for air operations. However, once over the  continent, the bombers were faced with thick cloud and little chance of finding the target, let alone bombing it. Turning to their secondary target, they headed for Wilhelmshaven, where they  found only moderate flak and light fighter cover.

As a result, loses were light that day, three aircraft went down, one of which was a Chelveston bomber 41-24637 (KY-F), and even though many bombs fell harmlessly away from the target area, the mission was still widely celebrated and praised by the press.

The loss of the B-17 brought home the brutality of what they were facing. Although some of the crew managed to bail out (five were taken as POWs) another five were killed; the ball turret gunner Sgt. Roy Whitney and tail gunner S. Sgt. Robert Ames were killed in the attack. The other three, were attacked by fighters as they parachuted through the sky, two of whom, T.Sgt. Bernice Farmer and S. Sgt. Jerome Kissleheff were killed. The last crewman, S. Sgt. Le Roy Mason, died after hitting the ground, his parachute shot to pieces.*⁹

Trial by Fire: The 305th’s Gruelling February Raids

Typically, the opening days of February were marked by persistent poor weather, which resulted in several planned missions being abandoned, some even after the Fortresses had departed England. On 4th February, however, the 305th did manage to get airborne, dispatching eighteen aircraft toward Hamm. Although faced with adverse weather, the formation were undeterred, instead diverting to their secondary target – Emden.

Despite their determination and ‘Can do’ attitude, none of the 305th’s aircraft succeeded in bombing the target. What’s worse, the mission also proved costly, as one aircraft 41-24593 (WF-G) ‘El Lobo’, collided head-on with a FW-109 after it was hit by flak. Another B-17 was shot down by a twin-engined fighter – the likes of which had not been seen in the skies before.

‘El. Lobo’ and her crew before being lost over Hamm (IWM UPL 13288).

Later in the month, on 26th February, the 305th took part in another operation to Germany. The primary objective here was the Focke-Wulf factory at Bremen, with orders to divert to the submarine pens at Wilhelmshaven should weather conditions once again prevent an effective attack.

After briefing for Bremen, twenty B-17s of the 305th joined with  other B-17s of the 91st, (20), 303rd (19) and 306th (17), and seventeen B-24s of the 44th and 93rd BGs. Forming up over the Norfolk coast, the whole formation was led by the 305th.

Heading toward the target, they quickly became weakened. In the first one hundred miles, some twenty aircraft turned back, either through mechanical issues or personnel problems. As a result, the protective firepower of the group was significantly reduced, and those who were left faced a greater risk from attack.

On reaching Baltyrum Island, the formation began its descent toward the target. At this point, they were attacked by a lone fighter, an FW-190, only to be replaced minutes later by others from 12./JG1. Continuing on, the formation reached Oldenburg , albeit relatively unscathed. Here the formation experienced cloud cover, and the decision was made by Major J. Preston, the formation commander, to turn 180⁰ north, and head to the secondary target Wilhelmshaven.

Due to various reasons, the normally faster B-24s were unable to keep up with the B-17s, and three aircraft from the 44th, began to lag behind. Being vulnerable away from the protective firepower of the bigger formation, they were immediately attacked by enemy fighters, with two being brought down.

Over the next forty minutes or so, seven aircraft were shot down during a blistering attack by a mix of Me-109s, FW-190s, Ju-88s and Me-110s, who were not only firing canons into the formation, but dropping aerial bombs as well. Two of those lost during the melee were from the 305th whilst others from the same group were severely damaged.

On board one of those B-17s was 2nd. Lt. James Moberly, in 41-24617 ‘Southern Comfort’, but Moberly’s story is one of luck more than good judgement. Increasing crew injuries had led to them being advised to wear steel helmets, which were proving to be cumbersome and awkward in the heat of battle, many choosing not to wear them. Moberly had decided that day to wear his, a decision that would save his life.

Whilst firing one of the nose guns, a cannon shell struck the aircraft exploding just above his head, the force knocking him down so hard, he cracked the navigator table. After looking at the rather large hole in the fuselage, he examined his helmet to find several large dents caused by the shell that would otherwise have probably killed or at best, severely wounded him. From then on, he was convinced of the helmet’s benefits and it always went with him.

The plane was so badly damaged by flak in the attack, that one engine was knocked out, discharging oil over the wing. Furthermore, a four-foot hole had been blown in the rudder and the aircraft was riddled from nose to tail by bullets and canon fire. On setting a  hopeful course for home, the pilot asked those aboard to pray, a last ditch effort to save the aircraft and its crew. Whether through God’s help, or pure determination and will power, they reached Chelveston, and the pilot placed the aircraft down on the runway. Once news got out about their exploits, they became known as the crew that ‘prayed’ their aircraft back.

In another one of these aircraft B-17F 41-24604 ‘Arkie’ [KY:D], was pilot Everett E. Tribbett who, after baling out, was captured and sent to Frankfurt before ending up at Stalag Luft III. Once inside, his skills were quickly put to good use, becoming involved in clandestine radios within the camp – an activity that would have had severe consequences if discovered. The aircraft meanwhile, named after Tribbett’s  wife, came down at Hookseil, ten miles north of Wilhelmshaven.

In a third B-17, 41-24623, the ball turret gunner, S. Sgt. Lee ‘Shorty’ Gordon was captured after baling out of his stricken aircraft. His determination to ‘get home’, though, led to him escaping no less than a reported five times, even using his diminutive size to pose as a child in one failed attempt.

Gordon’s story was initially told in the Air Force’s Service Journal just after he was reported missing in action; followed in 1944 by the boy’s comic True Comic. It was later recalled in both The Writing 69th by Jim Hamilton (1999) and Air Gunner by Andy Rooney & Bud Hutton. As the first US airman to escape and make his way home, Gordon was awarded the Silver Star.*¹⁰

Gordon was only one of five survivors from the downed plane, each one of them being located in the mid and rear sections of the stricken aircraft.

Whilst the formation had taken a beating, the 303rd BG from Molesworth reported no damage at all. By contrast, Chelveston’s 305th reported fourteen aircraft damaged, from flak, cannon fire, or even falling shell cases from nearby aircraft.

Several enemy aircraft were claimed as either ‘kills’ or ‘damaged’ that day, but as with many of these early claims, the numbers of actual enemy aircraft shot down, was for various reasons, hugely exaggerated. It is now known that only one enemy aircraft was lost that day, a considerable difference, but an understandable one at that. Of the ninety-three bombers that took off on that mission, only sixty-five managed to bomb the target. It had been a difficult day for the Eighth, and one the 305th was relieved to leave behind.

Spring 1943: Hardship, Heroism, and American Takeover

But the winter had taken its toll. By the time spring arrived, the 305th had lost nearly half its crews, whilst the other fledgling groups were down to almost a fifth of their original number. Men on sick leave, or in hospital beds were ordered back into their aircraft, reports of fights, random gunfire in dormitories and aggressive behaviour were becoming commonplace. The mental state of some had deteriorated to new levels, resulting in temporary blindness, extreme behaviours and mental stress that  affected many. In fear of being labelled as cowards, many hid their true feelings lashing out at those closest to them. The air force’s answer was swift, to demote, move or even discharge these men before they ‘infected’ those around them.

With an aim to boost morale and lift falling spirits, the personnel of Chelveston were treated to a little bit of joy. On April 19th 1943 the airfield was officially handed over, by the RAF, to full American control. In a short, but simple ceremony, in which the Stars and Stripes were hoisted, Flt. Lt. H. W. Davies RAF handed over control to Brig-Gen Fredrick Lewis Anderson, of the 1st Bombardment Group USAAF. Chelveston was at last now officially an American base and would be known as Station 105.

Despite losses and misgivings though, the 305th were beginning to take centre stage in the air war. April’s first operation, on the 4th, saw them the lead group once more. After departing Chelveston in the late morning, they joined with the three other B-17 groups in the UK: the 91st, 303rd and 306th, taking an incredible three hours to form up and achieve cruising altitude. The escort of Spitfires that had joined them, had little to do on the way to the target, as the Luftwaffe were strangely no where to be seen.

Of the entire formation, the 305th achieved the most accurate bombing results, with a high proportion of their bombs falling on the target itself. This accuracy resulted in damage to a number of the Renault factory buildings, reputedly putting them out of action for several months afterwards.

On the flight home however, the 305th once again learned what it meant to be the lead group, when a large formation of enemy fighters struck head-on in a fierce, determined attack. It was here that three of the 305th’s B-17s went down and a forth would be forced to land away with wounded onboard at Dunsfold airfield.

Although the Chelveston group had taken a beating, they had also set a record. The gunners of ‘Dry Martini 4th’ claiming an unprecedented ten enemy aircraft shot down, half of those claimed that day by the entire 305th. For this and for showing great determination in leading the formation, on return, the 305th received its first Distinguished Unit Citation (DUC).

April–May 1943: Record Flights, Heroism, and Morale Boosts

Being so new to the war, and with only the four B-17 groups still forming the bulk of the air force, operational records were regularly set and broken. The month of April saw another such record set, with the largest formation of US aircraft taking part. The flight, consisting of 115 B-17s from the four Groups, flew in a new configuration. The 305th formed the rear box, in a new arrangement that only permitted 3,000 ft separation between the low and high boxes.

The four groups from Thurleigh, Bassingbourn, Molesworth and Chelveston had led the way for the 8th Air Force, and by April  they were all becoming very tired and fatigued, and in desperate need of replacements. Although short in coming, replacements and new squadrons were eventually to arrive, helping to bolster both the strength and size of the still small but determined Air Force.

This newly reinforced air force was employed for the first time on 13th May 1943, and again on the 14th and 15th. On this last mission, the 305th were again on the receiving end of the Luftwaffe’s fury, as they hit hard head-on to the formation. In one of these B-17s, every member of the crew, except the tail and right-waist gunner, suffered severe injuries. Such was the crew’s  determination in getting back to Chelveston though, that two DSCs, eight Silver Stars and seven Purple Hearts were awarded to them that day. Those on-board ‘Old Bill’ being the most decorated crew of the 305th by the war’s end.

B-17 42-29673 ‘Old Bill’ 422nd BS, damaged on Wangerooge 15th May 1943.  Featured ground crew: Cpl Willis Todd (inside) and Cpl Zimmerman (outside), (IWM UPL 30085).

The morale of airmen, who faced death on an almost daily basis, was always a problem. To keep spirits up, various visits were arranged, some of which included top entertainers from ‘back home,’ who toured the various airfields and bases in Britain. On July 5th 1943, Frances Langford, Bob Hope and Tony Romano all arrived at Chelveston. Posing for photo shoots, meeting the crews and performing for the personnel were just one way of keeping spirits high.

“Frances Langford, Bob Hope and Tony Romano pose with the crew of the Boeing B-17 ‘Lallah VIII‘ (A/C 242) 5th July 1943. L to R: (P) Lt. Sam Johnstone, (CP) Lt. Elsworth Kenyon, (N) Lt. Martin Licursi, (B/T) Sgt. Arthur Englehardt, Frances Langford, Tony Romano, Bob Hope, (E) Sgt. Donald Baer, (WG) Sgt Richard Lewis, (TG) Sgt. Homer Bagby.(IWM UPL 35399).

August 1943: Schweinfurt, Night Raids, and the Toll of War

But amid these rare glimpses of happiness and momentary reprieves from fear, the war would endure, and the ever-present face of death would soon turn toward them once more.

Whilst Berlin became a name to dread, one other target drove an even sharper stake into the hearts of US airmen, that of Schweinfurt.

Schweinfurt, was a major centre for ball-bearing production. Located north-west of Nuremberg, it was one of Germany’s most prolific suppliers of this vital component. Although it did not produce all of the ball-bearings required by the German war economy, allied strategists believed that by destroying the Schweinfurt plants, they would severely disrupt supplies. By doing so, they would undermine Germany’s ability to sustain the war and bring it to a rapid conclusion.

The first attack, on 1st August 1943, saw the 1st Bombardment Wing (BW) send out 230 bombers in two waves; one of 116 aircraft and the second 114. Of these, thirty-six were lost in the battle; the 382nd and the lead Group the 91st BG, taking the brunt of the attack. The 305th from Chelveston lost ‘only’ two, but a further fourteen were classed as damaged but fortunately  repairable. The initial figures for the overall losses would soon grow though as the full extent of the damage became apparent. The final count neared sixty-three aircraft that were deemed  irreparable and lost. The total loss of aircraft from the operation, rose to in excess of 90, an unsustainable loss for any raid and one that brought home the severity of what the American airmen were facing.

Despite these losses, the raid was considered a success. In Schweinfurt itself, as the last B-17 left the target, a cloud of smoke and fire could be seen, its ferocity engulfing the town. What had been a two hundred year old conurbation of peace and serenity burned ferociously after receiving in excess of 400 tons of bombs – a mix of high explosives, incendiaries and general purpose types. The tranquil, but productive coastal town was in ruins – but the cost in American airman had been high. *¹¹,*¹²

That same day, the 4th BW sent another 146 of their heavy bombers to Regensburg. Like the Schweinfurt mission, it suffered heavy casualties, with the loss of twenty-four aircraft. All-in-all, August 1st had been a terrible day for the Americans, and despite delivering a devastating blow, the war was clearly far from over.

During September and into October 1943, the 422nd Bomb Squadron of the 305th Bomb Group was withdrawn from daylight flights and retrained for night bombing operations, becoming the first US Army Air Force unit to undertake such activities. During this period, the squadron flew eight night sorties, dropping approximately sixty-eight tons of bombs, along with the unit’s first ‘Nickel’ mission on the night of 7th/8th  October 1943.

‘Nickel’ operations were carried out in cooperation with the RAF, and involved the dropping of propaganda leaflets over occupied Europe. In total, the squadron dispersed around seventy-three tons of leaflets, many of these being thrown out by hand, a slow and exhausting process. To speed things up, crews soon began to push entire boxes from the aircraft in the hope they would burst open in mid-air. A relatively unsuccessful method, it was eventually replaced by an ingenious purpose-built ‘leaflet bomb’. This aerial device was designed to open at a set altitude – often around 1,500 feet – scattering more than 80,000 leaflets in a single drop.

During these operations the squadron worked alongside Radio Counter Measure units as well as the ‘Carpetbaggers’ who were based at RAF Harrington. A common feature of these clandestine organisations was their use of black-painted, often war-weary B-24 Liberators, each one especially adapted for night operations and special duties.*¹³

Return to Schweinfurt: Catastrophe in the Autumn Skies

The disaster of Schweinfurt would never be far away though. In October, the city would raise its head once more, and once again losses for the Eighth would be high.

The morning of the 14th was cold and foggy, and many hoped that the day’s mission would be cancelled. Unfortunately, no such call came, and as crews sat in their briefing rooms, a hush fell as the curtain was drawn all the way back to reveal Schweinfurt. Gasps and groans filled the various briefing rooms as the details of the operation were read out.

At take off, the 305th were late, by about six minutes, meaning  that they had to catch up with the formation who were gradually pulling away from them. As a result, they were out of their place as they left the English coast, and desperate to catchup for the protection that the formation gave. After flying around trying to locate their place, the lead pilot Major Charles Normand, decided to slot in to the 1st Combat Wing’s low position, replacing the also late 381st.

Shortly after 13:00 hrs, the fighter escort withdrew, leaving the bombers to fend for themselves and allowing the waiting Luftwaffe to make their move. Single and twin-engined fighters now attacked the formation from every direction. Stukas, dropped timed bombs from above, and from around the sides rockets, canons and machine guns were emptied into the formation. The 305th in the vulnerable low position, took the initial brunt. Gunners were frantic in their attempts to defend themselves, using up ammunition at an incredible rate.

As the formation approached Duren, a number of B-17s began to smoke and fall back. Single-engined fighters attacked head on, diving away at the last minute whilst twin-engined aircraft fired rockets from the rear. One of the 305th’s B-17s was hit by one of these rockets, its wing folding and the fuselage opening up revealing badly injured crewmen inside. With no parachutes they simply fell from the sky. The Pilot fought to keep what little of the B-17 was left together, a fruitless task that ended in an dramatic and final fireball.

Further attacks continued to focus on those aircraft of the 305th, the 92nd and Kimbolton’s 379th. Aircraft after aircraft began smoking, slowly falling out of formation with cut engines or damaged control surfaces. No longer able to keep up, they became sitting ducks.

Over the target, Luftwaffe fighters were joined by flak. A barrage of accurate and intense 88mm bursts welcomed the bombers whose numbers were by now depleted.

Still in the low squadron position, the 305th’s Major Normand now led only three aircraft, twelve of the original fifteen sent out had gone –  shot down by enemy fighters. Determined to do their job, they declined a move to a safer position and made their own bomb run into the target.

The mayhem wreaked havoc on the formation. By the time they reached the target the 305th were further out of position, and the lead bombardier requested a second try. Knowing how dangerous that would be and how it would put them in a lonely situation, Normand refused and told Lt. Pellegrini to ‘do his best’. As they left the city, another B-17 from Chelveston went down, and after 100 minutes of continuous attack, the 305th were down to just two aircraft.

On return to England, many aircraft became lost in thick cloud and were abandoned, left to fall out of the sky as crews parachuted out. Those that did find land tried to locate any airfield they could and get down whilst they still had fuel in their tanks. It had been a costly operation. 600 airmen were lost that day, 130 of them from Chelveston. The Mighty Eighth had taken another beating and it would almost end their aerial warfare campaign. The only saving grace being that one of the crews who went down, had manged to get to Switzerland where they were interned.*¹⁴

The losses suffered by the 305th that day were the highest of all groups who took part. It had been a devastating blow leaving Chelveston depleted of many young airmen who were by now experienced and battle hardened veterans – many still in their twenties. As a consolation for the group, when allied troops overran the city in April 1945, the captured Nazi flag that proudly flew for so long over the city, was handed to the 305th as a souvenir.

As for Schweinfurt, 500 tons of bombs had dealt another devastating blow to the historic town. Flak batteries had decimated the American formation, and fighters had given their all, but still the American’s determination got them through. Schweinfurt would go down in history. It would forever be remembered on American bases as the battle that took so many lives and the one that nearly killed off the Eighth Air Force.

The terrible losses that day would never be repeated by the Chelveston crews. As they approached the year’s end, they hoped for better and they got it. Unbeknown to them at the time, December 20th 1943, would be the start of a record fifty-six missions without loss for the 365th BS of the Chelveston group. – a run that took them almost to D-Day, 6th June 1944.

Against All Odds: Two Medals of Honour in the Winter of 1944

The early months of 1944, saw the first use of ‘Gee’ by American Pathfinders. A pioneering system that used radio navigation to significantly improve bombing accuracy by timing the gap between two radio signals from ground stations. Hardwick’s 329th, who were part of the 93rd BG, had been trialling the new system since 1942, and it was finally deemed ready for operations. In these early stages, missions focussed on ‘No ball’ targets – V1 launch sites – where Gee could be tested to the limit. Such was the desire to perfect the system that almost half of the 29 missions carried out in January and February, used it.

January would also see another major award for the Chelveston Group. On the 11th following a raid on the aircraft factory at Halberstadt, the 1st Bomb Division, (formerly 1st Bomb Wing), were awarded the Distinguished Unit Citation; for the 305th, it was their second of two such awards.

A month later, on 20th February 1944, a combined force of over one thousand American aircraft of the 1st, 2nd and 3rd Bomb Divisions (BD) took part in operations. The 305th, as part of the 1st BD, were ordered to hit targets at Leipzig, Heiterblick, Abtnaundorf, Bernburg, Oschersleben. Failing that, they were to hit any target that presented itself as an opportunity.

The formation was to cross to the continent where it would  split, each branch finding their predetermined targets, bomb and then reform for the long journey home. Although the weather was poor, fighter escorts did get airborne and they managed to stave off many of the attacks aimed at the bomber stream. For one 305th aircraft though, it would be a major struggle and an heroic one.

In B-17 42-38109 – ‘Cabin in the Sky’ – was pilot 1st Lt. William Robert Lawley Jr, flying only his tenth mission since joining the 364th BS, less than a year previously.

First Lieutenant William R. Lawley, Jr., is congratulated by Lieutenant General Carl Spaatz on the award of the Medal of Honour, 8th August 1944. (IWM UPL 55737)

The aircraft, a B-17G-30-DL (WF-P) was departing the target area with its bomb load intact due to a frozen mechanism, when it suffered a full frontal attack by enemy fighters. Suddenly, a canon shell ripped into the cockpit  killing the co-pilot, Paul Murphy, and striking Lawley in the face severely wounding him.

The attack by around twenty enemy fighters, also wounded every other crewman, in addition to setting an engine on fire. The attack caused the B-17 to enter a dive which could well have been uncontrollable had Lawley not fought back the pain and forced the co-pilot’s hands off the controls with one hand, whilst fighting the aircraft with the other. With a hole in the blood soaked windscreen, cold air forced its way in, adding to the cockpit’s terrible conditions and to the extreme pain Lawley was already feeling.

In fear of an explosion, resulting in total destruction of the aircraft and its crew, Lawley gave the order to bale out, but no one did. Some were simply too injured to do so, and those that were able to, did not want to leave their buddies behind to what must have seemed to be an inevitable fate.

Even whilst enduring further attacks, the engine fire was somehow extinguished, only to be replaced by another in a different engine. Then, a glimmer of hope came over the intercom, the bombardier had managed to free the bombs, thus lightening the load. This allowed the badly injured Lawley to perform incredible evasive action.

But by now, Lawley was exhausted, and was suffering from huge blood loss. Acutely aware of the situation, Mason, the bombardier, took over until Lawley was able to regain his strength and take back the B-17’s controls. With two engines out, a new threat appeared – lack of fuel. Another engine suddenly stopped running, leaving just one to keep the heavy bomber aloft. Somehow, the aircraft managed to not only reach England, but pass over its coastline. Feeling somewhat relieved, but acutely aware of the ever present danger, the crew scoured the horizon for a safe place to land. Redhill suddenly came into view, and just in time, as the B-17 was now losing height, and fire was spreading across the wings.

In great pain, Lawley managed to bring the aircraft down to Earth, performing an amazingly controlled crash landing. Nine of the ten onboard survived to return to duty, Paul Murphy being the only casualty. For his determination to get home, Lawley was awarded the Medal of Honour, the US’s highest award for bravery.

This dramatic event was mirrored by a B-17 of the 351st, then based at  RAF Polebrook. Sadly though, this one ended in the loss of the three crewmen left on board, after the aircraft crashed in a field. For his action, Sgt. Archibald Mathies also received the Medal of Honour.

B-17 42-38109 ‘Cabin in the Sky‘, after crash landing at RAF Redhill. (IWM UPL 55733)

This would not be a solitary awarding of the prestigious Medal of Honour, for it would be repeated just two months later, highlighting the bravery shown by many crewmen during those dark days of World War II.

On April 11th 1944, the Germans yet again made a ferocious attack from the front, a tactic they had devised early on in the American’s war in Europe.

In this instance, 1st Lt. Edward S. Michael was piloting B-17G  ‘Bertie Lee’ 42-37931, as part of the 364th BS on operations to bomb various  targets in Germany, including the Focke-Wulf plant at Sorau. Other targets for the 341 B-17s of the 1st BD, included Cottbus, Dobberphel, Stettin and Trechel.

The aircraft, a Douglas-Long Beach B-17G-20-DL Fortress (WF*D), was flying in formation toward Stettin when it became the focus of a determined enemy attack. To the crew, German fighters appeared to single them out, pressing home repeated assaults, despite escorting fighters and heavy defensive fire from the bomber.

Giving initial aid to the gunner, Michael, himself injured, helped him to the door and out of the aircraft, He was one of seven who made it away.

With the co-pilot and injured bombardier, Lt. Leiber,  still on board, Michael decided he was going to try a crash landing.  Working hard to save the ship for as long as they could, the bombardier managed to finally free the burning incendiaries, and by performing dramatic evasive manoeuvres, Michael managed to  shake off pursuing enemy aircraft; eventually reaching the relative safety of cloud cover.

Now being targeted by flak, he decided to get the aircraft down as low as he could, and flying at almost treetop level, he headed towards England. The aircraft continued to respond well considering the extensive damage it had received, and so they flew on for as long and as far as they could. Miraculously, they reached the English coast, but Michael was exhausted from both his continued efforts and a severe thigh wound, The bombardier took over, circling the aircraft in a holding pattern until Michael had the strength to bring the stricken aircraft down. With no hydraulics, the ball turret jammed down, the undercarriage locked up and the bomb bay doors locked open, it was not going to be an easy ride and the odds of survival were stacked heavily against them.

As if the gods were on their side though, Michael retook control and brought ‘Bertie Lee’ down, its metalwork crunching and groaning as it careered along the grass at RAF Waltham near to Grimsby in Lincolnshire.

For his incredible actions and determination to get home, 1st Lt. Michael received the unit’s second, highest level award, the Medal of Honour.

Extensively damaged, ‘Bertie Lee’ after crash landing at RAF Waltham (IWM UPL 40113).

1st. Lt. Michael’s citation*¹⁵ read:

For conspicuous gallantry and intrepidity above and beyond the call of duty while serving as pilot of a B-17 aircraft on a heavy-bombardment mission to Germany, 11 April 1944.

The group in which 1st Lt. Michael was flying was attacked by a swarm of fighters. His plane was singled out and the fighters pressed their attacks home recklessly, completely disregarding the Allied fighter escort and their own intensive flak. His plane was riddled from nose to tail with exploding cannon shells and knocked out of formation, with a large number of fighters following it down, blasting it with cannon fire as it descended.

A cannon shell exploded in the cockpit, wounded the co-pilot, wrecked the instruments, and blew out the side window. First Lt. Michael was seriously and painfully wounded in the right thigh. Hydraulic fluid filmed over the windshield making visibility impossible, and smoke filled the cockpit. The controls failed to respond and 3,000 feet were lost before he succeeded in levelling off.

The radio operator informed him that the whole bomb bay was in flames as a result of the explosion of three cannon shells, which had ignited the incendiaries. With a full load of incendiaries in the bomb bay and a considerable gas load in the tanks, the danger of fire enveloping the plane and the tanks exploding seemed imminent. When the emergency release lever failed to function, 1st Lt. Michael at once gave the order to bail out and seven of the crew left the plane.

Seeing the bombardier firing the navigator’s gun at the enemy planes, 1st Lt. Michael ordered him to bail out as the plane was liable to explode any minute. When the bombardier looked for his parachute he found that it had been riddled with 20-mm fragments and was useless. First Lt. Michael, seeing the ruined parachute, realized that if the plane was abandoned the bombardier would perish and decided that the only chance would be a crash landing.

Completely disregarding his own painful and profusely bleeding wounds, but thinking only of the safety of the remaining crewmembers, he gallantly evaded the enemy using violent evasive action despite the battered condition of his plane. After the plane had been under sustained enemy attack for fully 45 minutes, 1st Lt. Michael finally lost the persistent fighters in a cloud bank.

Upon emerging, an accurate barrage of flak caused him to come down to treetop level where flak towers poured a continuous rain of fire on the plane. He continued into France, realizing that at any moment a crash landing might have to be attempted, but trying to get as far as possible to increase the escape possibilities if a safe landing could be achieved.

First Lt. Michael flew the plane until he became exhausted from loss of blood, which had formed on the floor in pools, and he lost consciousness. The co-pilot succeeded in reaching England and sighted an RAF field near the coast. First Lt. Michael finally regained consciousness and insisted upon taking over the controls to land the plane.

The undercarriage was useless; the bomb bay doors were jammed open; the hydraulic system and altimeter were shot out. In addition, there was no airspeed indicator, the ball turret was jammed with the guns pointing downward, and the flaps would not respond. Despite these apparently insurmountable obstacles, he landed the plane without mishap.

Heroic actions like this, were widely mirrored across the beaches, seas and skies of Normandy that June, when vast numbers of ground, naval and air force personnel combined to carryout the greatest invasion ever known. With operations beginning in the early hours of June 6th 1944, Chelveston’s aircraft would again be involved, dropping leaflets to the French people warning them of the impending allied invasion. It would be a day that would go down in history.

Many of those involved in D-day looked forward to the day they would return home, but returning home was never a guarantee of safety. In December whilst on a mission to bomb the railway marshalling yards at Kassel in Germany, B-17 43-38973 received extensive damage with one engine put out of action. As the aircraft made its way home, it began to lose height and to make matters worse, England was shrouded in fog cutting visibility to near zero.

In an attempt to find a landmark, the pilot took the aircraft lower and lower, a risk that ended in tragedy when it struck a Gee mast at Borough Hill in Northamptonshire. All nine on board were killed in the collision.

337 Missions to Victory: The 305th’s Final Campaigns

The winter of 1944–45 descended with a familiar severity. Snow and ice gripped the airfields, while dense fog rolled across much of Europe, grounding aircraft and testing the endurance of even the most seasoned crews. Yet amid the bitter cold came decisive movement on the ground. Following the Allied breakthrough in the Ardennes, advancing forces pressed steadily into Germany itself. The war’s end was now clearly in sight, but its closing chapter would be anything but quiet. The months that followed brought an intense tempo of operations, as bomber formations crossed the Rhine with increasing confidence. With the Luftwaffe offering only sporadic and weakening resistance, B-17s and B-24s were able to penetrate deep into German territory with far less opposition than in previous years. Mission counts climbed rapidly. Many groups reached the formidable milestone of one hundred operations, and several of the original contingents went well beyond it, their longevity a testament to both endurance and experience.

Gradually, as allied forces made their way across Europe,  the heavy bombers of the allied forces pounded German cities. By March, the 305th had completed its 300th operation, having endured a long and demanding campaign since being amongst one of the first groups to deploy to the UK. In celebration, they were once again given the lead position in an attack on Böhlen-Rötha, Leipzig. Thirty-six aircraft set off that day to find near perfect weather over the target and so bombing was considered highly accurate despite heavy and accurate flak. Of the thirty-six, aircraft despatched, two B-17s were lost from the 305th, one of which carried the command crew – led by Lt. Col. Howell G. Crank in 44-8141. The aircraft was hit by flak and one of its engines knocked out. It then turned over and dived into the ground killing ten of those on board with one taken as a prisoner of war.

A month later on April 25th, 1945, shortly before the war’s end, the 305th would make their final bombing flight bringing Chelveston’s war in Europe to an end. The 305th had achieved an eye-watering 337 combat missions (480 including other types), dropping over 22,000 tons of bombs and over 70 tons of propaganda leaflets. During their time in Britain they had lost in the region of 154 aircraft, received two Distinguished Unit Citations and two airmen had both been awarded a Medal of Honour. In just three short months, on July 25th, they would leave England, heading for a new base at  St. Trond, Belgium (Army Airfield A-92). Their final departure leaving no operational front line units at Chelveston and little prospect of any arriving in the future.

After the defeat of Japan and the formal declaration of world peace in September 1945, the group was posted to Germany where the four squadrons were dispersed to various airfields, prior to their deactivation in the following December. The reason for the move was – and included the 306th from Thurleigh – to photograph two million square miles of land, ranging from Iceland in the north, through Europe to the Soviet frontier in the east, and on to north and west Africa in the south. By splitting the groups, it meant that flying time was reduced and coverage increased.*¹⁶

Following that, the 305th Bombardment Group returned to the United States. Crews were demobilised and dispersed, and the aircraft that had endured the rigours of combat over Europe were largely scrapped. The group would then briefly re-emerge in 1947 and again in 1951, each time for only a short period. After another short reprieve in 1994, it was reborn as the 305th Air Mobility Wing, a title under which it continues to operate today. The wartime service of the 305th at RAF Chelveston remains a key part of this lineage; the group’s achievements with the Eighth Air Force between 1942 and 1945 established the reputation of what became known as the “Can-Do Wing.” Chelveston is still recorded in U.S. Air Force historical archives as one of the stations from which the unit first earned its combat distinction, and with it, the legacy of the 305th  continues on.

From Wartime Urgency to Cold War Necessity

The immediate post-war years then presented the Government with a formidable practical and financial problem. At the end of 1945 there were close to 700 surplus military airfields scattered across the United Kingdom, many of them constructed hurriedly for a wartime need that now suddenly became redundant. Pressure for their disposal came swiftly. Farmers demanded the return of requisitioned land, local authorities saw opportunities for civil airports or industrial development, and the Treasury was keen to reduce the heavy burden of maintenance costs. At the same time, the Air Ministry argued that a proportion should be retained against future uncertainty, either as reserves or for storage and technical purposes.

Across the country the fate of these sites varied. On some airfields, huts and temporary accommodation sites were converted into short-term housing for displaced families during the acute post-war shortage. Elsewhere, hardstands and runways were broken up to provide much-needed hardcore for reconstruction projects. Yet a minority of airfields were kept within the RAF’s control, Chelveston being one of them. Returned to the RAF after the war, it passed to Maintenance Command and was designated as a satellite of No. 25 Maintenance Unit, although this arrangement remained brief. Thereafter, the station entered a period of care and maintenance, a quiet, role that lasted until September 1952.

Despite a rapid post war airfield closure programme, by the early 1950s the pace of reductions had slowed as the international climate dramatically shifted. The emerging Cold War, marked by the formation of the North Atlantic Treaty Organisation (NATO) in 1949 and intensified by conflicts such as the Korean War, prompted a reassessment of Britain’s defensive position. Air power, particularly with the advent of jets and the nuclear dimension, regained its strategic significance. Selected airfields  across Britain saw their runways lengthened, surfaces strengthened, and dispersal areas improved to accommodate modern aircraft. The 1956 Suez Crisis further strengthened the need for an operational readiness and an overseas capability.

Domestic policy was also playing its part. The National Service Act 1948, which introduced peacetime conscription, kick-started a steady flow of manpower into the armed forces throughout the 1950s. Although costly, and partly due to massed post war demobilisation, National Service enabled the RAF to sustain a larger trained strength than would otherwise have been possible; this made it important to retain, and in some cases reactivate, selected stations for training, reserve or operational activities.

On a wider scale, Anglo-American defence cooperation deepened. Several East Anglian airfields – including RAF Lakenheath, RAF Woodbridge, and RAF Bentwaters – were all developed or upgraded for US Air Force use, while strategic bomber bases such as RAF Wittering were adapted to meet the RAF’s demands in the nuclear era. Disposal of wartime airfields therefore continued, but more selectively: stations once considered redundant suddenly acquired a renewed military value, serving as insurance against an increasingly uncertain international environment.

From Wartime Relic to Strategic Stronghold

In light of these changes, in 1952, a detachment of the 7503rd Air Support Wing (later redesignated the 7253rd ASW) arrived at Chelveston to assess and prepare the station for reactivation, laying the groundwork for construction teams from the 817th Engineer Aviation Battalion (EAB), who began major redevelopment work just two months later. This followed the February 1951 launch of a major US construction programme across twenty-six UK airfields, driven by rising Cold War tensions.

The deployment of American aircraft on British soil was a direct response to the growing Soviet threat seen in both Korea and Eastern Europe. Stationing bombers in the UK significantly reduced flight times to potential targets, thus enhancing both rapid strike capability and strengthening the credibility of Western deterrence. Wartime stations that had lain largely dormant since 1945 were once again recognised as strategically valuable, reflecting the pressures of the emerging jet age and the rapidly evolving political-military situation in Europe.

These physical upgrades coincided with a decisive reorganisation of American air power in the UK. On 20th March 1951, the Strategic Air Command (SAC) activated the 7th Air Division to assume direct control of its strategic bomber forces in Britain; a move that separated nuclear strike responsibilities from the broader command. Weeks later, on 1st May 1951, the Third Air Division was replaced by the Third Air Force, which under NATO, managed tactical air operations, logistics, and support for U.S. units stationed in the UK.

Expanded, modernised, and re-equipped, these airfields were adapted to accommodate the new generation of SAC jet bombers – larger, faster, and more capable than any that had previously operated from British soil. Together, the redevelopment of Britain’s wartime airfields and the restructuring of command reflected the growing permanence of the United States’ commitment to Western Europe’s defence – a position that would endure throughout the Cold War.

This extensive refurbishment work would include new runways, updated or replacement accommodation blocks, secure nuclear-capable bomb stores (or ‘igloos’), larger fuel stores, and a range of technical buildings – and all rapidly constructed.

Chelveston, already being a large site with a long runway, was earmarked for such development. However, its wartime runway had deteriorated and was too short for the new jets. A new, longer, and stronger runway – 12,000 ft in length, among the longest in the UK – was therefore constructed, a task undertaken by the 817th Engineer Aviation Battalion.*¹⁷

From Stratojets to Silence

After nearly four years of development that saw the construction of not only the new runway, but additional hardstands, servicing platforms and a technically superior watch office (Type 5589/58 Tower with a visual control room mounted on top of a skeletal frame)*¹⁸, the site was transformed. It was then that the 3914th Air Base Squadron (ABS) of the 7th Air Division, SAC, took up residence.

As operators of the airfield, the 3914th ABS would complete any further modifications needed allowing for, in May 1956, the first jet bomber’s arrival. Boeing B-47E-65-LM Stratojet, 53-1881 was flown in by the base Commander Colonel Maynard E. White. On arrival, he was greeted by his deputy commander along with local civic leaders and American families who were now living on the new base. This moment marked the beginning of a new era in Chelveston’s history.*¹⁹

Believed to be the first B-47 Stratojet 53-1881 landing at Chelveston. (Public domain via Chelveston-cum-Caldecott Parish Council).

For a the next three years or so, Chelveston would house a small number of B-47s, all nuclear capable. But continual economic changes in the US defence network, meant that many were now placed on ninety day rotations instead of permanent postings.

The airfield became part of a chain of bases housing large bombers of the Strategic Air Command as part of a ‘Reflex Alert’ force. Kept armed and ready, they remained manned on a permanent 15 minute alert basis ready to respond to any Soviet threat that may have come.

With these rotas changing approximately every three months, families were moved about from base to base, a process that carried on for almost eighteen months until mid 1959.

A further change in the global political and strategic field in the last few months of this period, saw a change in aircraft too. The bomber era was now drawing to a close, and at Chelveston, this led to the arrival of the 301st Reconnaissance Wing (RW) equipped with RB-47s – a reconnaissance version of the B-47.

By now, intermediate-range ballistic missiles (IRBM) were being increasingly used more, and several UK bases now had them deployed as an alternative to the heavy bombers.  With ranges of up to 5,500km, they were the catalyst for an arms race, one that would see newer and more powerful weapons propel the world toward the edge of destruction.

During the late 1950s and early 60s, the world’s political landscape was shifting constantly and rapidly. France’s president, Charles de Gaulle, saw his country as a strong, independent nuclear power, wanting full control over its own defence. That vision did not accommodate large numbers of foreign – particularly American – forces on French soil. As a result, 1959 saw the start of a reduction in military numbers with strict limits being placed on the number of American forces allowed in France. Any personnel or equipment beyond this ceiling were required to leave immediately. This decision triggered a massive redeployment of forces, with many units being reassigned to Germany or Belgium, and others returning to the United Kingdom where they were accommodated at the so-called ‘Red Richard‘ bases, of which Chelveston was one.*²⁰

Over the next several years, France saw a steady reduction in American personnel and units, a process that would culminate in 1966 with President Charles de Gaulle’s announcement of France’s withdrawal from NATO’s integrated military command. The decision required the removal of all foreign forces from French soil by April 1967, bringing an end to more than a decade of a large-scale American presence.

To accommodate the early relocations from the continent, a number of Britain’s newly modernised airfields were selected – Chelveston among them. Alongside RAF Alconbury and RAF Bruntingthorpe, each station received elements of the 10th Tactical Reconnaissance Wing (TRW), the 42nd Tactical Reconnaissance Squadron, of the 10th TRW, arriving at Chelveston in August 1959. Operating the twin-engined Douglas RB-66C Destroyer – electronic reconnaissance aircraft, eighteen of these machines, together with their crews and ground personnel, quickly took up residence. Shortly after their arrival, the aircraft were modified with updated electronic counter-measures equipment, reflecting the increasingly technical nature of Cold War aerial reconnaissance.

Douglas RB-66B Destroyer (U.S. Air Force photo)

The squadron remained at Chelveston for almost three years. Then, in the summer of 1962, both the 42nd Tactical Reconnaissance Squadron and the 19th Tactical Reconnaissance Squadron departed their respective Midlands stations for deployment to Toul-Rosières Air Base in eastern France. The move placed the wing’s reconnaissance assets closer to the Central European front line at a time when aerial reconnaissance was increasing. For Chelveston, however, it marked the effective end of its active flying role. With the Americans steadily reducing their UK footprint and Bruntingthorpe facing closure, the departure of the RB-66s signalled the beginning of the station’s final chapter.

Project Clearwater and the End of the Reflex Era

So, once again, Chelveston was left devoid of all main front line squadrons. Facing a reduction in demand for Cold War bases –  combined with both long expensive runways and a shift towards a more logistical, support and storage use – Chelveston’s runway was closed to all but infrequent, small aircraft – examples that could operate on shorter runways.

Before long, the airfield being used less and less, Chelveston closed to flying altogether, and it quickly reverted back to a reserve airfield status.

This shift in wider policy soon became formalised. On 26th July 1963, the United States Department of Defence announced ‘Project Clearwater’, the final phase in the reduction of American forces stationed on British soil.*²¹ Although Chelveston had already fallen largely silent, the base remained nominally under United States control while residual activities continued. That position ended on 19th June 1964, when Chelveston – together with RAF Fairford, RAF Greenham Common and RAF Sculthorpe – was formally closed and handed back to the Royal Air Force.

By 1st April 1965, Project Clearwater had effectively brought an end to Strategic Air Command’s Reflex bomber deployments in Britain, terminating large-scale rotational operations and leading to the inactivation of the 7th Air Division*²² Chelveston, retained by the RAF on a care-and-maintenance basis for a further period, would briefly assume a less glamorous role as a storage location for American equipment being withdrawn from the continent. The age of regular transatlantic bomber and reconnaissance operations from Northamptonshire had quietly drawn to a close.

From Runways to Renewables: The Final Transformation of Chelveston

With no flying units now operating from Chelveston, the runways and associated tracks began to deteriorate and break up. With the increasing demand for housing and the nearby new town of Milton Keynes expanding, hardcore was needed and Chelveston had a good supply just waiting to be quarried. The runways and perimeter tracks were all removed thus ending any chance of a reprieve for flying in the future. But it wasn’t to be the end of its military association just yet.

In 1977, Chelveston became home to a key part of the Royal Air Force’s Strike Command Integrated Communications System (STCICS). The site, equipped with a large array of antennas, formed an essential link in the RAF’s network, transmitting voice, data, and weather information to aircraft, and connecting military stations across the UK and beyond. For decades, it played a vital role in maintaining operational communications for Strike Command.

As technology and operational requirements evolved however, the Ministry of Defence upgraded the system, leading to the creation of the Defence High Frequency Communications Service (DHFCS). This new network integrated both air and naval communications into a single nationwide system, capable of maintaining secure links over long distances, and routing messages through a central control centre. By December 2003, with the network increasingly managed by civilian contractors,  Chelveston was vacated once more, thus marking the end of its role in the UK’s high-frequency military communications infrastructure.*²³ *²⁴

With their departure, the site became surplus to military requirements, and it was sold off in 2005, as a going concern. New businesses seeing it as a development opportunity, bought it up turning it into a diverse renewable energy park that is known today as Chelveston Renewable Energy Ltd.

A number of wind turbines have since been erected, all linked by  the remaining remnants of the perimeter track.  A solar farm has also been added, and the site has evolved into a major energy supplier utilising renewable energy sources.

Today, the former Chelveston airfield  continues in this state, and little evidence exists of its previous life; the runways, perimeter tracks and buildings all having been removed. Dotted about, within the confines of the private area, a small number of  temporary buildings are known to remain (as surveyed by Northamptonshire Archaeology in conjunction with West Northamptonshire Council) including one of the nuclear bomb stores, – the ‘igloo’. Because, of its excellent condition and rarity value, the structure has been put forward for long-term protection through the Scheduling process of West Northampton Council.  The store is considered to be ‘well-preserved and a relatively unaltered example of a distinctive 1950s USAF munitions storage area’ which ‘comprises characteristic storage bunkers or “Igloos” inspection buildings, and perimeter fencing.’ *²⁵

Although largely privately owned, there is a footpath across the site running perpendicular to the post war runway. In addition, the Cold War accommodation blocks are still present adjacent to the site, and a small section is used by the Northamptonshire Fire and Rescue Service as a training centre, training fire-fighters.

On the ground little remains to be seen, and access to that is restricted. The concrete foundations used by the post war communications centre are visible, but otherwise, Chelveston, and its history, are merely records longing to be opened and read.

During its short wartime life, Chelveston witnessed many acts of great heroism. It bore heavy losses, saw significant developments in aerial warfare, and its crews endured sustained enemy attacks. Those who served here are now honoured by a memorial in the nearby village, a quiet reminder of the station’s wartime sacrifice. Yet the story of Chelveston did not end in 1945; for many years after the war, the airfield continued to play a major role in Europe’s front-line operations, a legacy that is not suitably acknowledged.

Now a thriving energy park its future has been sealed, The military have departed and private enterprise has taken over what little remains of its once glorious but reserved history.

Sources and Further Reading (RAF Chelveston)

*¹ Chelveston renewable Energy Park website. Accessed 24 June 2025

*² Chelveston Parish / Local history website. Accessed 24 June 2025

*³ Commonwealth War Graves Commission website. Accessed 5 July 2025

*⁴ The Airborne Assault Paradata website. Accessed 16 July 2025

*⁵ Air Force Historical research Agency Website. Accessed 18 August 2025

*⁶, *⁷ Vlahos, M. C., and Kehler, B., Leading the Way to Victory: A History of the 60th Troop Carrier Group 1940–1945. Woodbridge, CT: Knox Press, 2023.

*⁸ Wilhelm, D., ‘The flight of the bomber Phyllis’, Liberty, 5 December 1942, Imperial War Museums, document 50898.

*⁹ Missing Air Crew Report (MACR) 15501.

*¹⁰ Hamilton, J., The Writing 69th. Green Harbour Publications, 1999.

*¹¹ Coffey, T. M., Decision Over Schweinfurt. Magnum Books, 1978.

*¹² Freeman, R. A., Mighty Eighth War Diary. Jane’s Publishing Co., 1981.

*¹³ Bowman, M., The Bedford Triangle. Pen & Sword, 1989.

*¹⁴ Coffey, T. M., Decision Over Schweinfurt. Magnum Books, 1978.

*¹⁵ Congressional Medal of Honour website.  Accessed 5 August 2025

*¹⁶ Boyd, R. J., ‘Project Casey Jones 1945’, Penn State Hazleton Campus Library.

*¹⁷ United States Air Forces in Europe – Air Forces Africa – Third Air Force, website. Accessed 3 October 2025.

*¹⁸ West Northamptonshire Council, website. Accessed 27 September 2025.

*¹⁹ Rushden Research Group, website. Accessed 11 September 2025.

*²⁰ West Northamptonshire Council, website. Accessed 27 September 2025.

*²¹ RAF Mildenhall, website. Accessed 17 September 2025.

*²² RAF Mildenhall, website. Accessed 17 September 2025.

*²³ Everything Explained Today, website. Accessed 15 February 2026.

*²⁴ Everything Explained Today, website. Accessed 15 February 2026.

*²⁵ West Northamptonshire Council, Northamptonshire Historic Environment Record, website. Accessed 15 February 2026.

Additional references

National Museum of the United States Air Force Website accessed 2 March 2026

The Airborne Assault Paradata website. This provides a wealth of information about the AFEE and airborne operations. It is well worth a read.

Air mobility Command US Air Force, Website Accessed 12 October 2025

Chelveston-cum-Caldecott Parish Council website accessed 20 September 2025

Airfields of Britain Conservation Trust Website.

Rushden “Hearts & Soles” website accessed 20 September 2025