Trail 66 – RAF Chelveston – Part 9 – The End of an Era

May 9, 2026March 11, 2026 / Aviationtrails / Leave a comment

Part 8 saw Chelveston at the crossroads of history. From the heroism of B-17 crews braving ferocious Luftwaffe attacks to the tense vigilance of Strategic Air Command jets in the early Cold War, the station had witnessed courage, innovation, and loss. Yet as international tensions shifted and technology advanced, even its longest runways and fortified hangars could not guarantee a future.

By the late 1950s, Chelveston faced an uncertain fate. What would become of a place that had once been alive with the roar of engines and the courage of men? Its final chapter was about to be written – but the outcome was far from certain.

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.

The whole story of Chelveston can be read in Trail 66. Northants and Bedfordshire (Part 2)

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

Trail 66 – RAF Chelveston – Part 6 – Records, Heroism and Morale

April 18, 2026March 11, 2026 / Aviationtrails / 2 Comments

In Part 5, the 305th endured some of the harshest early missions of 1943, suffering heavy losses over the U-boat pens and German targets while crews faced flak, fighters, and extreme winter conditions. Individual acts of courage and ingenuity, from surviving ditchings to improving bomber defences, highlighted both the bravery and inexperience of the fledgling unit. By April, Chelveston was officially transferred to full American control, and the 305th began taking the lead in major operations, earning their first Distinguished Unit Citation for precision bombing and determined action under fire.

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 sky over Europe had become a crucible, where bravery, skill, and sheer willpower were tested to their absolute limits. For the crews of the 305th, every mission brought them face-to-face with death, yet time and again they defied the odds, fighting through blazing cockpits, flaming engines, and relentless enemy attacks. As they pushed ever deeper into the heart of Nazi territory, every flight carried the weight of a nation – and the question hung in the air: who would make it home, and who would not?

The whole story of Chelveston can be read in Trail 66. Northants and Bedfordshire (Part 2)

Trail 66 – RAF Chelveston – Part 5 – Cinematic Fame

April 11, 2026March 11, 2026 / Aviationtrails / 4 Comments

In Part 4, we saw how the arrival of the 305th Bombardment Group under Col. Curtis LeMay transformed Chelveston into a hub of innovation and determination. LeMay’s leadership and forward-thinking tactics shaped the group’s early operations, pioneering formation flying and lead-bomber bombing methods that would improve accuracy and survivability. Despite harsh conditions and a steep learning curve, the 305th quickly developed into a highly effective unit, setting the standard for future B-17 operations and laying the groundwork for its critical role in the air war over Europe.

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).

In Part 6, the 305th, still a relatively new and thinly stretched force, faced unprecedented challenges as the Eighth Air Force began flying ever-larger formations into increasingly hostile skies. From record-setting mass raids in May to the punishing assaults over Schweinfurt, Chelveston’s crews were pushed to the limits of endurance, bravery, and ingenuity, earning medals and accolades even as friends and aircraft were lost around them. As winter 1944 approached, with new navigation technology and record-breaking missions on the horizon, the 305th were about to step into a phase of the air war that would test everything they had learned – and threaten to change the course of the Eighth Air Force forever.

The whole story of Chelveston can be read in Trail 66. Northants and Bedfordshire (Part 2)

Trail 66 – RAF Chelveston – Part 4 – The ‘Can-Do’ Group

April 4, 2026March 11, 2026 / Aviationtrails / 4 Comments

We saw in Part 3 how the USAAF’s 301st Bombardment Group transformed Chelveston into an operational heavy-bomber station, launching their first combat missions over Europe. Early operations brought the group face-to-face with enemy fighters, resulting in casualties and dramatic incidents, including a heavily damaged B-17 returning to RAF Gatwick and another ditching in the Channel. By late November, the 301st had departed for North Africa, leaving Chelveston ready to welcome its next unit, the 305th Bombardment Group.

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.

In the next part of Chelveston’s history, we see the 305th pushed to the limits of courage and endurance, facing punishing winter raids over the U-boat pens and the heart of Germany. Crews battled flak, fighters, freezing conditions, and the strain of inexperienced personnel, while stories of survival, heroism, and narrow escapes emerged from each mission. Just as morale teetered under the weight of losses, the airfield itself was officially handed over to full American control – yet even this milestone could not prepare them for the next series of deadly operations that would test the 305th like never before.

The whole story of Chelveston can be read in Trail 66. Northants and Bedfordshire (Part 2)

Trail 66 – RAF Chelveston – Part 2 – Operational Beginnings

March 21, 2026March 11, 2026 / Aviationtrails / Leave a comment

In Part 1, we saw how RAF Chelveston began its life in 1940 on land straddling the Bedfordshire–Northamptonshire border as part of Britain’s wartime airfield expansion programme. Initially referred to as Shelton during planning, the station opens in 1941 with basic grass runways before gradually developing into a standard three-runway bomber airfield. In time it would pass into American control as USAAF Station 105.

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.

In the next part of Chelveston’s history, we see the airfield finally step onto the operational stage. With the arrival of the USAAF’s 301st Bombardment Group and the first B-17 Flying Fortresses, the station began launching real combat missions over occupied Europe. What followed were the opening operations, early trials, and first losses that marked Chelveston’s transition from a developing airfield into an active participant in the Allied air offensive.

The whole story of Chelveston can be read in Trail 66. Northants and Bedfordshire (Part 2)

Trail 66 – RAF Chelveston – Part 1 – Important Beginnings.

March 14, 2026March 11, 2026 / Aviationtrails / 3 Comments

In Trail 66, we return to the Bedfordshire and Northamptonshire borderlands to visit the site of another 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.

Chelveston’s construction began in 1940 on land straddling the Bedfordshire-Northamptonshire border. A basic airfield to start with, it soon began to develop and grow, all part of Britain’s rapid wartime airfield expansion programme. Over the next few months it would grow and develop into a standard three-runway bomber airfield complete with dispersals, technical buildings, bomb stores and extensive accommodation sites. Though the landscape has since been transformed into the modern Chelveston Renewable Energy Park, the wartime layout still hints at the scale and ambition of the original station.

The story of how this quiet stretch of countryside evolved from construction site to operational wartime airfield begins in Part 2, as RAF Chelveston opens its runways and the station starts its journey toward becoming an important Allied base.

The whole story of Chelveston can be read in Trail 66. Northants and Bedfordshire (Part 2)

RAF Sutton Bridge Part 6 – The End of an Era.

February 7, 2026September 4, 2025 / Aviationtrails / 8 Comments

Part 5 of this trail, we saw how Sutton Bridge grew into a bustling hub of Allied air training, hosting a mix of British, European, Commonwealth, and American pilots. How the airfield remained under constant threat from Luftwaffe raids, while crowded skies and inexperienced trainees made accidents a grim reality. In 1942, the focus shifted from front-line pilot training to advanced gunnery instruction with the arrival of the Central Gunnery School. Fighter and bomber crews honed their skills in Spitfires, Wellingtons, and Hampdens, while innovative experiments, including rocket-firing Hurricanes, highlighted Sutton Bridge’s role at the cutting edge of aerial warfare. Despite progress, the dangers were ever-present, with both trainees and experienced instructors paying the ultimate price.

In the final part, we witness the slow decline and eventual but inevitable closure of the airfield. How a once vibrant but small airfield became simply a part of history.

Arrival of WAAFs and Local Folklore

During May 1942, Sutton Bridge found itself with in excess of 180 WAAFs arriving, mainly to operate training turrets and to work in the photographic room developing cine reels. The WAAFs were billeted not on the airfield but in small Nissen huts located in various parts of the village. It was one of these WAAFs that added fuel to the story of a pilot flying under the bridge, by claiming she saw it happen, again whilst she was there. No other evidence is available and so, like the first account, it will unfortunately remain just an uncorroborated story passed from generation to generation.

Enemy Attacks and a Safe Haven.

The war was never far away, and once again was brought all that little bit closer on 24th July 1942, when a Dornier 217 dropped its payload on the airfield in the early hours of the morning whilst most were asleep. Several buildings were damaged including hangars, the cinema and the armoury which exploded when all the ammunition inside was hit. Several personnel were also injured mainly from flying debris, and several aircraft were also damaged. The attack certainly brought an early morning wake up call and the war very much closer to home.

Being so close to the Wash, Sutton Bridge was often a safe haven for damaged aircraft either returning from Germany or suffering mechanical difficulties whilst forming up over the Wash. One such incident involved B-17F #41-24460 “RD-A” of the 423BS, 306BG at Thurleigh. The aircraft had been part of ninety B-17s and B-24s sent to Lorient on October 21st 1942. Due to poor visibility, the operation was scrubbed and bombers were ordered to dispose of their bombs in the Wash – a common practice for damaged aircraft or scrubbed missions. During the process, the life-raft latch broke loose allowing the raft to escape and wrap itself around the elevator.

B-17 #41-24460 ‘RD-A’ of the 306th BG that made an emergency landing at RAF Sutton Bridge. (IWM FRE 4418)

After landing on the short space of Sutton Bridge, the problem was soon sorted allowing the B-17 to take off and return for further repairs at its base at Thurleigh. Crowds gathered to see the spectacle as the aircraft thundered along the grassed runway before rising into the air.

Earlier Emergency Landings

It was not the first bomber though, to use Sutton Bridge as safe haven. Prior to this, a Halifax (W1102) from 35 Sqn, also made an emergency landing after it suffered damage on the night of October 14th 1942. The bomber, taking part in operations over Kiel, was hit by flak rendering its starboard outer engine unserviceable and the fuel tank leaking. Despite its difficulties, the crew managed to reach Sutton Bridge with little fuel left to get them home to Gravely. The crew would experience something similar a matter of days later when they had to land another damaged Halifax, this time at RAF Martlesham Heath.

USAAF Arrivals and High-Profile Visits

Sutton Bridge had supported many US airmen in the lead up to their war, training pilots of the Eagle Squadrons. Following the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbour and America’s entry into the war, USAAF pilots began to arrive here for gunnery training bringing their own unique aircraft with them. Some of these included P-38 ‘Lightnings’, an aircraft unknown to the British airmen at Sutton Bridge. Other US visitors included Brigadier-General James Doolittle and an entourage of high ranking officials. Arriving on a Douglas C-47 ‘Skytrain’, they were here to inspect the training methods of the Gunnery School and try out the Spitfires for themselves.

Even with experienced pilots and gunners, mishaps continued to happen. As the summer of 1942 led into the autumn and eventually winter, so the cold, fog and frosts began to return too.

Accidents and Operational Hazards

But the cold weather was not the only problem pilots had to contend with. Even though, those who attended the gunnery school had already received operational experience, it didn’t stop them having accidents. Between August 1st 1942 and New Year 1943, there were no less than fourteen crashes on the airfield all relating to undercarriage issues; either a heavy landing, blown tyres or a pilot’s mishandling of the aircraft.

Winter Challenges, Early 1943

With heavy snows in January 1943, present aircraft had to be stored undercover, being pushed by hand, into the hangars. Waterlogged ground froze, and ice became the norm. What flying could be done could only be done in Magisters, the Spitfires flimsy flaps and undercarriages being too prone to damage in such appalling conditions. By the end of January and beginning of February, servicing also become an issue with around two-thirds of the sixty available aircraft requiring remedial attention.

Spring Accidents, more Losses and more Changes

As the winter changed to spring the weather turned, the ground thawed and flying took place once more. On 10th April, a Wellington of the CGS, Wellington IA N2865 piloted by Flt. Lt. Terence C. Stanbury, collided in mid air whilst undertaking a training exercise with Spitfire IIa (P7677) piloted by Flt. Lt. Ernest H. Griffith of the RAAF. The two aircraft were performing gunnery manoeuvres over Abbots Ripon not far from Alconbury in Huntingdon, when they accidentally collided sending both aircraft to the ground.

Flt. Lt. Griffith managed to bale out suffering minor injuries and was returned to Sutton Bridge where he was treated before returning to flying duties. The Wellington crew were not so fortunate however, and all six were killed. The crew was a truly multinational one consisting of a Scot, a Canadian, and two Australians. The Pilot, Flt. Lt. Stanbury lies in Sutton Bridge churchyard.*¹⁸

Leadership within the CGS changed hands on numerous occasions during its wartime history; one of the more famous associated with it being New Zealander Wg. Cdr. Alan C. Deere, whose achievements overshadowed most who followed him. On appointment to lead the Pilot Gunnery Instructor Training Wing, (a part of the CGS) on October 21st 1943, he would have twenty-two kills to his name, an ideal candidate to lead such a school.

1944 – Departure of the Central Gunnery School

By February 1944, a further reorganisation occurred and it was decided that the Central Gunnery School (CGS) would move on from Sutton Bridge. After two productive years, the school had more than demonstrated its value, but its departure left a sense of uncertainty. With Wing Commander Alan Deere posted to a desk job and the demand for new aircrew beginning to decline, the future of the airfield seemed in doubt. A review, downgrading, or even closure suddenly appeared possible.

For a time, Sutton Bridge became ‘spare’ and was placed in a state of ‘care and maintenance’, administered by RAF Peterborough while its long-term role was considered. Yet its story was far from over. With Peterborough heavily committed, Sutton Bridge was soon called upon to take on new duties. When the runways at RAF Newton (Peterborough’s satellite) required reseeding, its resident 16 (Polish) Service Flying Training School was temporarily relocated to Sutton Bridge. From early 1944 until August, the Polish unit brought a new but temporary life to the airfield before eventually returning to Newton once more.

Although winding down, the summer months continued to bring further activity. Between May and November an American unit, the 1st Gunnery & Towed Target Flight (1 G&TTF), arrived to operate alongside No. 1 Combined Combat Gunnery School, then based at RAF Snettisham. Their task was to provide target-towing services, a role previously carried out at Sutton Bridge by RAF flights equipped with Vultee Vengeance aircraft. Surplus Vengeances were duly handed over to the Americans, who continued the work with their own crews.

Meanwhile, No. 7 (Pilot) Advanced Flying Unit (7 (P)AFU, officially based at Peterborough, made increasing use of Sutton Bridge as an overflow for both day and night flying. Among its pupils were French trainees, who formed a distinct French wing within the unit, flying Miles Masters and Airspeed Oxfords. For a time this group carried the informal title of “French SFTS,” although this was later dropped.

As 1944 progressed, training pressures shifted. After D-Day, the demand for new pilots eased, and courses at Sutton Bridge became more general in nature. In December, 7 (P)AFU was reorganised and re-designated No. 7 Flying Training School (FTS). Training was split between the two sites: single-engine work at Peterborough, twin-engine training at Sutton Bridge. At the helm was Wing Commander David Kinnear, AFC, AFM, whose leadership steered the school through this transitional period.

For Sutton Bridge, this change marked the final stage of its wartime flying role. With nearby Sibson closed for runway maintenance, 7 FTS continued to operate from Sutton Bridge into the post-war years. The school remained there until 1946, making it the last operational flying unit to be based at RAF Sutton Bridge. After its departure, the airfield’s role shifted once again, becoming a relief landing ground and maintenance site, closing this chapter on its remarkable contribution to the war effort.

1946 – The End of an era

After its inevitable closure to flying, the site became a storage facility utilised by 58 Maintenance Unit (MU), whose work included servicing Derwent 8 and 9 jet engines, powering the RAF’s latest front-line aircraft, the Vampire and Meteor. For four more years Sutton Bridge was at the heart of this vital engineering effort, before activity gradually wound down once again as the station moved towards demobilisation.

Now surplus to requirements, it closed for good. This marked the end of the line for Sutton Bridge; as a small grass airfield with basic facilities, it was no longer capable of providing a use to a modern Air Force who had moved from piston engined aircraft to fast jets and the nuclear age. With a reorganisation of the entire air force likely, this small but highly significant site was abandoned, and all remaining military personnel departed locking the gates behind them; thus ending three decades of aviation activity.

Post War Legacy

From the 1920s through its wartime years, Sutton Bridge was a hive of activity and purpose. From the 1920s to the Central Gunnery School, training instructors in fighter and bomber gunnery, to the Fleet Air Arm squadrons working up in Ospreys, Skuas, and Nimrods over the Wash, the airfield was a crucible where skill, courage, and determination were forged. Advanced pilot training by 7 (P)AFU and 7 FTS saw cadets mastering single – and twin-engined aircraft, including Wellingtons, Hampdens, Spitfires, and Mustangs. Visits by senior figures, such as Air Chief Marshal Ludlow-Hewitt, underscored the station’s strategic importance. Hundreds of pilots and aircrew honed their skills at this small but significant airfield, readying themselves to defend Britain’s skies during the darkest days of 1940–41.

Sutton Bridge Today

Today, Sutton Bridge airfield has largely returned to the rhythms of the countryside, its runways removed and its technical and accommodation areas absorbed into the Wingland Enterprise Park – home to a large power station and a vegetable processing facility where only one of the original Bellman hangars still stands – a quiet sentinel to the airfield’s former life.

Sutton Bridge was far more than an RAF outpost. Its runways and the associated gunnery ranges served both the RAF, the Fleet Air Arm and the USAAF, becoming a crucial hub in Britain’s pre-war and wartime training network. Here, generations of instructors and trainees honed their skills, learning the art of aerial combat, navigation, and gunnery in an environment that was both demanding and dangerous.

The graves in St. Matthew’s churchyard are a poignant reminder of the risks inherent in training pilots. For every life lost, many others went on to defend Britain during the Battle of Britain and beyond, their courage and commitment standing as a beacon when the nation’s fate seemed uncertain. Between the opening of Sutton Bridge and the official end of the Battle of Britain, 525 trainees passed through its gates, with 390 qualifying for the Battle of Britain Clasp, a testament to the station’s vital contribution to the war effort.*¹⁹

Today, only a handful of tracks and a solitary building, believed to be a former squadron office, mark the site. Amidst polytunnels and vast potato stores, the airfield’s presence is almost invisible.

A memorial, incorporating the bent propellor of Hurricane L2529 of 56 OTU that crashed in March 1941, was erected in 1993, near to the swing bridge, and stands in quiet tribute, commemorating all nationalities who served at Sutton Bridge, ensuring that the sacrifices and achievements of those who trained and served here are not forgotten.

As for the range at Holbeach, the very reason for RAF Sutton Bridge’s origin, it remains a vital asset to both the Royal Air Force and the USAF, having regular visits from Typhoons, F-15s, Ospreys, Apache Helicopters and more recently F-35s. On retirement of the RAF’s Tornado in 2019, it was overflown by a formation of three from RAF Marham. It remains publicly accessible and provides an exciting reminder of the history of aviation in and around the area of Sutton Bridge.

The full story can be read in Trail 3 – Gone but not Forgotten.

Sources and Further Reading (Sutton Bridge)

*¹ Francis, P. “British Airfield Architecture” Patrick Stephens Ltd. 1996

*² Goodrum,, A., “School of Aces” Amberley Publishing 2019.

*³ Royal Air Force Quarterly Vol 16. No.1. December 1944 (via Google books)

*⁴ There is no official evidence to support this claim but ‘eye-witnesses’ claim to have seen it carried out (as mentioned in Goodrum, 2019)

*⁵. Air of Authority / RAFweb – No. 801 Squadron movements, listing Sutton Bridge visits in July 1933, May 1935 and January 1938.

*⁶. Air of Authority / RAFweb – No. 802 Squadron movements, listing Sutton Bridge visits in August 1934 and May 1935.

*⁷. Royal Navy Research Archive – RAF Worthy Down station history, noting 803 Squadron’s move to Sutton Bridge on 5 February 1939 and 800 Squadron’s linked ship-to-shore activity in spring 1939.

*⁸ BAE Systems Website accessed 30.3.25.

*⁹ National Archives AIR 27/1553/1; AIR 27/1558/1

*¹⁰ Verkaik, R., “Defiant“. Robinson. 2020

*¹¹ The National Archives, AIR 33/10, “Report No. 11. Visit to Sutton Bridge on 3 May 1940. Notes by the Inspector General,” dated 14 May 1940, signed Air Chief Marshal Sir Edgar Ludlow-Hewitt.

*¹² Hamilton-Paterson, J., “Empire of the Clouds” Faber & Faber 2011

*¹³ Waterton, William Arthur., “The Quick and the Dead“. Grubb Street. 2012

*¹⁴ Goodrum,, A., “School of Aces” Amberley Publishing 2019.

*¹⁵ Chorley, W.R. “Bomber Command Losses of the Second World War – 1942.” 1994, Midland Counties.

*¹⁶ Goodrum,, A., “School of Aces” Amberley Publishing 2019.

*¹⁷ Commonwealth War Graves Commission website

*¹⁸ – Aircrew Remembered website. accessed 30/8/25

*¹⁹ Goodrum,, A., “School of Aces” Amberley Publishing 2019.

National Archives: AIR 27/1558/1; AIR 27/1553/1; AIR 27/1514/2; AIR 27/1514/1; AIR 27/589/1; AIR 27/379/41

Goodrum. Alastair, “Through adversity” 2020. Amberley Publishing Limited

Flight Safety Network website

RAF Sutton Bridge Part 4 – Under the Spotlight

January 31, 2026September 4, 2025 / Aviationtrails / 2 Comments

Part 3 took us through the 1920s and 1930s in the life of Sutton Bridge. As the war opened, the airfield swung between roles with remarkable speed. From a brief stint as a recruit training centre to hosting newly formed 264 and 266 Squadrons, the airfield grappled with scarce aircraft, harsh winter weather, and early operational mishaps. Defiants, Blenheims, and then Spitfires tested both pilots and crews, while accidents and maintenance challenges were constant. By early 1940, with the squadrons gone, Sutton Bridge pivoted once more, becoming a hub for new recruits and small training flights, laying the groundwork for its next vital role as 6 Operational Training Unit.

The Birth of 6 Operational Training Unit

6 OTU were created on March 10th, 1940 from the ashes of 11 Group Pilot Pool who were up until then based at RAF St. Athan. They had been established specifically to train front line fighter pilots who had already mastered the basics of flying and were to be ‘polished’ up before passing on to front line operational squadrons.

Following the initial administration and setting up of the unit, a small party of four non-commissioned officers and twelve airmen, arrived here at Sutton Bridge. They were followed a few days later by the main party including six officers and ten further airmen. Once established, the unit would be commanded by Sqn. Ldr. Philip C. Pinkham, who led the first course for trainees beginning March 11th 1940.

Pinkham was responsible to the Station Commander, the recently promoted Wing Commander Philip R. Barwell, who had even as a Station Commander, remained a keen flyer. To meet his insatiable demand for flying, Barwell would take any opportunity to fly that passed his way, often pulling rank, he would fly in as many aircraft as he could, frequently in the guise of that common excuse an ‘air test’. The new OTU would offer a great opportunity for Barwell, operating a mix of aircraft types but mainly Hurricanes, Masters, Fairy Battles, Battle trainers and a Gladiator.

The early days of the OTU here however, were not as grand as many would have hoped. Yet another lack of serviceable aircraft combined with the poor Fen weather of 1940, led to a reduction of available flying days, and so one day a week the airfield would close with a ‘day off’ being given to those stationed here – hardly reflective of a war mentality.

Training for War: Sutton Bridge under the Spotlight

The part-time attitude to the job didn’t reduce the seriousness of their efforts though, and a visit by dignitaries including, as suggested in some sources, Hugh Dowding, the AOC Fighter Command, made sure they were aware of that.

On May 3rd 1940, Air Chief Marshal Sir Edgar Ludlow-Hewitt, the Inspector-General of the Royal Air Force, also paid a formal visit to Sutton Bridge. Crossing the airfield’s runways and observing the pilots in action, he took careful note of the station’s flying operations and training routines. His inspection combined a keen eye for detail with practical recommendations, aimed at refining instruction and ensuring operational readiness. The visit, recorded in Report No. 11, highlighted both the strengths of the airfield and the areas that required attention, underscoring Sutton Bridge’s vital role in Britain’s initial wartime training programme.*¹¹

Hewitt’s inspection highlighted significant challenges at the OTU. Gunnery practice for visiting units relied on firing at four 20-foot target drogues, towed from the beam by the OTU’s four Henley aircraft. The training, however, was severely limited by the condition of the Henleys; a shortage of spare parts often meant that only one or two aircraft could operate at any time. Accurate gunnery depended heavily on the steady towing of the targets. Additionally, Hewitt was sceptical of the OTU’s claim that the large, slowly moving targets “get shot to bits at once.” His observations highlighting how mechanical constraints could, and did, directly impact the effectiveness of instructor and trainee practice.

Despite all these challenges though, courses rapidly progressed, and soon foreign nationals who had joined the RAF, began to arrive. These included those not only those from the Commonwealth but the European countries invaded by the Nazis along with a handful from the United States: all eager to join up before the US officially joined the war.

There would of course be many casualties during these courses, some due to mechanical issues, many due to pilot error, learning to fly a combat aircraft under combat conditions being a very risky business indeed. Many of these casualties form the sixty – joined by a single Luftwaffe airman – graves less than a mile away in the St. Matthew’s Church yard in Sutton Bridge.

A change in fortune meant that the increase in trainees also meant an increase in aircraft. By the middle of the year 6 OTU were operating thirty-four Hurricanes in addition to the odd twenty or so other types present here although they were still classed as ‘unserviceable’. Combine these with visiting detachments and the sky over Sutton Bridge soon became an incredibly busy airspace.

The ever increasing numbers of aircraft using the site inevitably led to a demand for more hangar space, and in May 1940, the first of two Bellman hangars were erected on the site, thus extending its ability to service damaged aircraft.

Following the fall of France, Britain stood alone, and many of the front line pilots at her disposal were either tired veterans or recently qualified and inexperienced, and so more crews were needed if they were to stand any chance of repelling the Germans, who so far, had rolled virtually unopposed across Europe. Many of these veterans of France, were now being posted into the training stations to train new pilots in the tactics and airman-ship that would hopefully save their lives. Sutton Bridge was no different, the record books for this period list endless postings in of these front line pilots as instructors, many holding DFCs or DFMs in reward for their action over France. One of those to arrive here was F. Off. Derek Dowding the son of Air Chief Marshal Hugh Dowding, the recruits were indeed in the company of the noble, Derek having the title ‘Honourable.’

F.O. Derek H.T. Dowding (right) with his father Hugh Dowding. (Battle of Britain Monument archive)

Training at a Cost: Accidents and Fatalities at 6 OTU

Life at Sutton Bridge was not without risk, even for the instructors. Sergeant Charles Cotton being the first from 6 OTU to suffer. On 25th June 1940, he sadly crashed after having only arrived about three weeks earlier at the airfield. Cotton was performing low level aerobatics near to the village of Upwell, not far from Sutton Bridge, when the Hurricane he was flying was seen to climb from low level, possibly stall and then dive nose first into the boggy Fen ground. The aircraft buried itself deep in the soil, leaving little trace on the surface of its demise.

The next day a recovery truck tried to remove the wreckage, but the boggy ground combined with limited access, made recovery difficult. With perseverance though, Sgt. Cotton’s remains were eventually removed from the aircraft whereupon he was taken to his home town in Essex and laid to rest.

To meet pilot demand, courses were cut from six weeks to two, increasing the already immense pressure on trainees to complete their flying training. This pressure often led to mistakes being made. Between June and November there were no less than eleven fatalities, six of which were involved in airborne collisions.

One such incident occurred on August 18th, when Sgt. Dudley McGee and Sqn. Ldr. Kazimierz Niedwiecki were involved in a collision in the skies to the east of Sutton Bridge. The pair were performing aerial combat techniques when the collision happened causing the death of both pilots. Niedwiecki, a Polish airman, had only just arrived at the airfield from 15 Elementary Flying Training School (EFTS) in Carlisle, a grading school for Polish pilots; whilst McGee had arrived two days after Niedwiecki from Ternhill’s 10 Flying Training School (FTS). Both airmen were experienced flyers, and so it is feasible that the pressure of getting through the course and onto active duty was a factor in their demise.

After colliding, Niedwiecki’s Hurricane came down on farmland near Terrington St. Clements whilst McGee’s fell near to Walpole Cross Keys a few miles away. Once recovered, both the pilots were buried in St. Matthews Church Yard in Sutton Bridge.

Instructors of Note: The Arrival of Bill Waterton

Dowding’s son was not the only notable person to instruct at Sutton Bridge. During the late autumn of 1940, one William ‘Bill’ Waterton was posted in to Sutton Bridge by his Squadron Commander Douglas Bader of 242 Squadron RAF Coltishall. Waterton had been in hospital for three months following a head injury suffered in a crash whilst providing cover over Dunkirk. He came to Sutton Bridge as an instructor and proved to be an exceptionally good one. It was a move that kick started a change in career for him that would change his life forever. However, at Sutton Bridge, providing instruction to other pilots was not enough for Waterton, and he yearned for a return to front line operations.

Waterton never got this move, instead he was sent to Canada, returning to the UK in 1943 on a posting to RAF Fighter Command and the Air Fighting Development Unit (AFDU) at RAF Wittering. Here he tested many captured German aircraft, pitting them against RAF fighters to see how they performed. Post war, he would fly a Gloster Meteor in an attempted world speed record achieving speeds in excess of 600mph. Speaking frankly and to the point, he would leave the RAF to fly for Gloster, the makers of the Meteor, and become a very successful test pilot pushing aircraft to their limits and nudging the much sought after sound barrier.

Being known for his ‘forthright’ attitude, Waterton achieved great things in aviation research, an achievement that was kick-started by his duties at RAF Sutton Bridge. *¹² *¹³

Foreign Trainees and the Cost of Speed

As summer turned to Autumn and August to September, the RAF were losing pilots at an unsustainable rate, and Dowding needed many more and quickly. With many trainee pilots in the OTUs being foreign, and with poor English, he had little choice but to rush them through courses and get them into front-line units. The first Czech course consisted of some twenty airmen and lasted from 17th August to 11th September 1940. Virtually all of these went on to serve in the Battle of Britain, many being killed or posted as ‘Missing in Action’.

To expedite their movements, courses were refined further, and many trainees were sent up in pairs to practice combat manoeuvres on their own. One British pilot, Sgt. Frederick Howarth in L1658 and Czech pilot Sgt. Karel Stibor, collided in one such activity resulting in the death of both airmen. The two sites were cleared of immediate debris but the aircraft remained buried until the 1970s and mid 80s, when major parts were found and removed. These two men join the many others in St. Matthew’s. Such was the demand for new pilots that at Sutton Bridge alone, 525 pilots were posted in from, or out to, front line squadron between March and October 1940; only one-quarter of them not having fought in either the Battle of France or the Battle of Britain; most (345) having seen action in just the Battle of Britain. *¹⁴

The attack on Britain’s airfields was by now subsiding, but that didn’t stop the occasional bomb from dropping on Sutton Bridge, nor its ‘Q’ decoy site at nearby Terrington some 4 miles north-east. The first attack came in the night of August 30th-31st, in which bombs were dropped harmlessly on the dummy airfield. It was Terrington again at the end of September that would get another rogue bomber dropping its payload. By now the locals were getting worried and annoyed, and requested the site be moved. The RAF’s reply was not favourable nor was it what they wanted to hear. With yet another attack at the end of October, it was becoming clear why the RAF wasn’t going to play ball, a few dead horses and damage to walls was a small price to pay for keeping the training camp clear and operational.

‘Handcraft hut’ now a private building.

During the whole of the war, the ‘Q’ site took no less than six German attacks, whilst the airfield at Sutton Bridge received only three, a comprehensive reason for the use of such areas at this crucial time.

From 6 OTU to 56 OTU: A New Chapter

By the end of the Battle of Britain, the various OTUs had shown their true capability, fuelling the front line squadrons that would protect the UK from German invasion and sweeping the enemy from the sky. But changes were now afoot, and in November 1940, 6 OTU was disbanded immediately being renumbered as 56 OTU; the change coming through as a result of the reshuffle of the training units – ’50’ being added as a prefix to all OTUs.

56 OTU continued to fly the Hurricane using the squadron code ‘FE’. In fact, little changed and everything carried on as usual with little immediate evidence of the new change. The new, recently appointed station commander, Group Captain Bruce Caswell, continued his reign over both the airfield and the daily goings on at the site.

The new unit would form the main squadron at Sutton Bridge for the next two years continuing to train pilots in the art of dog-fighting and air gunnery; the renumbered 56 OTU carrying on pretty much where 6 OTU had left off. New pilots arrived and were pushed through the various courses; the RAF still desperate to get new pilots into front line squadrons as soon as possible.

The challenge of getting pilots through the courses was still a great one, and with so many trainees coming and going, errors, accidents and fatalities remained a common occurrence.

A New Spirit: The RAF and Its American Volunteers

The end of 1940 and the success of the Battle of Britain gave renewed hope and boosted morale for both aircrew and civilians alike. Now, and even though the United States was still out of the war, the RAF found itself being bolstered by a small number of American airmen wanting to join the fight and stand by Britain’s side. Some of these joined as early as 1939 as volunteer reserves, going on to fly during the Battle of Britain. Whilst there are records of US airmen flying in the battle, most went on to join the famed ‘Eagle‘ Squadrons joining names like Don Gentile, Don Blakeslee and Johnny Godfrey, many of whom have become household names in Second World War terms, with historical stories to match.

As a way to retain US neutrality, the airmen made their way through training schools in Canada to the UK, arriving by ship as civilians. Many were sent to 3 Personnel Reception at Bournemouth and then onto 57 OTU or the new 56 OTU here at Sutton Bridge to complete their training before passing over to RAF units.

The First American Loss: Pilot Officer William Davis

One of these pilots arrived in March 1941, P.O. William Davis, a twenty-five year old trainee from St. Louis. He found himself sent to Sutton Bridge, preparing to take on the Hurricane. With twenty-five flying hours under his belt already, he made his first solo less than two weeks after his arrival, managing a successful flight but suffering a problematic landing. The next day, he departed the airfield again, this time to carryout a map reading exercise over the Lincolnshire Fens. Unfortunately, the weather closed in and with a featureless landscape to navigate by, he eventually ran out of fuel and opted for a landing in one of the many expanses of Fen fields.

Unfortunately, as he landed, the undercarriage dug into the soft mud, flipping the Hurricane (P5195) onto its back breaking Davis’s neck, killing him outright. Davis was the first American to die at Sutton Bridge, this tragic accident cutting his war very short. He remains a long way from home, buried not far from the airfield in the local church yard at Sutton Bridge. His full story can be read in Heroic Tales.

The Eagles Gather

His was the first of a run of several accidents. Later in the summer of that year, Sgt Bidgood and Flt. Sgt. John Craig, who both veterans of the Battle of Britain, collided over the nearby village of Terrington St. John, killing both airmen. Being experienced airmen and valued pilots, their loss was a tragic one that cost the RAF dearly.

The Americans however, kept on coming. During 1941 alone they accounted for twenty-six accidents at Sutton Bridge. By the end of the year, 144 US airmen had passed through the airfield, 87 of whom went on to fly with the famed ‘Eagle Squadrons’ before they were officially transferred to the USAAF in 1942.

March 1940 saw the birth of 6 OTU at Sutton Bridge, a fast-paced training hub turning skilled pilots into front-line fighters. Operating Hurricanes, Battles, and Gladiators despite shortages and harsh Fen weather, the unit trained British and foreign recruits under tight schedules and high pressure. Success came at a cost, with accidents and fatalities a constant reminder of the dangers faced even before reaching combat, underscoring Sutton Bridge’s vital role in preparing airmen for the Second World War.

The full story can be read in Trail 3 – Gone but not Forgotten.

RAF Sutton Bridge Part 3 – Defiants and Battles

January 24, 2026September 4, 2025 / Aviationtrails / 2 Comments

In Part 2, we saw how Sutton Bridge grew from a temporary summer camp into a fully operational RAF station, shaped by innovation, spectacle, and the relentless demands of training aircrew. The lessons learned here – from aerobatic displays and night-firing trials to early experiments with new aircraft – prepared both pilots and the airfield itself for the pressures of wartime service. As Europe edged closer to conflict, Sutton Bridge stood ready, its evolving infrastructure and experienced personnel poised to meet the coming challenges of the Second World War.

In the tense early months of the Second World War, Sutton Bridge briefly served a crucial administrative and training role. On 14th September 1939, the airfield was designated a Recruit Sub-Receiving Centre, and within a week – on 22nd September – it was formally redesignated No. 3 Recruit Training Pool (RTP). The purpose was straightforward: to process and provide initial instruction for newly enlisted airmen as they entered RAF service. However, this function was short-lived – in what was typical of the rapidly evolving war-time organisational changes, No. 3 RTP at Sutton Bridge was disbanded on 29th October 1939, and the training process was relocated elsewhere.

Immediately, orders came through from 12 Group Fighter Command ordering the formation of two new squadrons: 264 Sqn and 266 Sqn, both to be stationed at Sutton Bridge. For a brief moment it appeared that this basic grass airfield would become a front line fighter station, propelling it into the limelight of Fighter Command, operating both single and twin engined aircraft. In charge of the two new squadrons and the airfield as a whole, was the new station commander, one Sqn. Ldr. Philip R. Barwell.

Barwell had previously been stationed at RAF Digby, in Lincolnshire, with 46 Sqn. and had himself trained here at Sutton Bridge no less than a decade earlier. He was famed for heading off the first enemy air attack on a convoy in British waters near to Spurn Head. In the attack he shot down one enemy aircraft and shared in the destruction of another, action which led him to receive the DFC followed by a rapid promotion to Wing Commander.

Barwell would oversee the organising and training of both these new squadrons. 264 Squadron, who adopted the name “Madras Presidency Squadron” after a financial donation to the squadron from the then President of Madras, and was led by Sqn. Ldr. S. H. Hardy; 266 Squadron, on the other hand, was led by Sqn. Ldr. John W. A. Hunnard. To fulfil the squadron’s obligations, Sutton Bridge would see a huge influx of men, all being posted in from various Training Schools, who over the next few weeks, would train to fly in the two new units.

The influx of men was not matched by the influx of machines for them to fly however. With continued delays in the arrival of the aircraft, crews were temporarily posted to other airfields to train and gain the vital experience they needed. On the ground, lectures filled many days, whilst some airmen were given temporary leave and others used the Link trainer to gain what basic experience they could.

Desperate to get started, pressure was put on those above, and on November 8th, the order was given for pilots of 264 Sqn to collect three Magisters (N3867, N3857 and N3868) from RAF Hullavington. These were followed three days later, by a further three for 266 Sqn. *⁹

Defiants, Battles, and the Harsh Winter of 1939

With little in the way of equipment, or even direction from the Ministry, 264 Sqn would very soon learn that they were to receive the new Defiant, a fighter built by Boulton Paul, and one which caused a major split in the ranks of the High Command. Being the first Defiant unit, it would be dogged by many issues including both political wrangling and production problems.

The Defiant, a much despised aircraft by both Dowding and Parks – due to their dislike of the idea of a free turning turret on a two seat fighter – came up against incredible opposition within the government bodies, but after much pressure from those higher up, Dowding succumbed and reluctantly accepted the squadron for the defence of the UK.

The political infighting and excessive demands put on Boulton Paul, led to delay after delay of its arrival at front line stations. Indeed, only at the end of the year, after 264 Squadron had moved to Martlesham Heath, did they receive any aircraft at all. The Defiants would go on though, to perform far better initially than Dowding could have hoped for, but its success was marred by poor management leading to huge losses and a reputation that soon saw it labelled unfairly as an utter failure.

The Defiant and its crews performed admirably during the early months of the war, particularly over Dunkirk, where 264 became the first ‘Ace in a day’*¹⁰ squadron. The crew, Flt. Lt. Nicholas Cooke and Cpl. Albert Lippett of 264 Sqn, shot down five enemy aircraft whilst patrolling over Dunkirk achieving the much sought after status that many young pilots would crave.

Sadly, the successes didn’t continue though, the Germans soon realising the aircraft’s poor performance, and the limitations of the turreted four Browning machine guns, it quickly became prey to the hungry Luftwaffe airmen especially during the Battle of Britain where it often flew without a much needed escort.

The Defiant was designed as a bomber destroyer, not a fighter, the idea being to attack and destroy bombers by flying along side or underneath, then rotating its turret and guns accordingly. However, on many occasions they flew alone and ended up taking on the Me 109s which were far superior in what became almost suicidal missions.

The crews that flew the Defiants, spoke very highly of the aircraft, and although many would lose their lives, they would defend the aircraft saying it was not used as it was intended and subsequently, as a fish out of water, it didn’t perform as well as they knew it could. Dogged by political infighting, the Defiant never achieved full status, instead being forced into a role it was never designed to perform, and so, naturally, it met with devastating results.

264’s departure from Sutton Bridge on December 7th, coincided with the arrival of the main party of 254 Sqn from Stradishall, who were in the process of receiving Blenheim IFs. Like the Defiants though, the Blenheim Squadron was having considerable problems, not with the supply of aircraft but with serviceability, many requiring oxygen systems, radios, guns or even complete overhauls due to their expired flying hours.

Mishaps and poor weather then began to play their part causing further issues with flying. A serious accident in which one aircraft (K7132), piloted by Sgt. T.K. Rees, suffered extreme air frame stresses in a vertical dive, led to considerable damage. Rees however, using all his skill and know how, managed to land the aircraft at the airfield where it was found many of the flying controls were badly damaged.

Meanwhile 266 Squadron, the second front line unit formed at Sutton Bridge, fared slightly better, receiving their first three Fairey Battles (L5348, L5350 and L5374) in early December 1939. They were soon followed by three more which led to the whole of the month being used for formation flying and training in the new aircraft for all crews. As a training unit, the inevitable accident would soon happen. On December 9th, one of these aircraft was forced into a wheels up landing, in which luckily, the two crewmen, Flt. Lt. Coward and Plt. Off. James L. Wilkie, were unhurt but the Battle had been badly damaged during the belly landing on the airfield.

With further aircraft arriving during that December, Sutton Bridge became increasingly busier, and with fifteen aircraft by the end of the month, 266 became a well established squadron. The weather of course, played its part, cancelling flying activities on a regular basis, and so this, combined with continuous minor accidents, led to an increasing shortage of spares.

As a result, 266 would also soon be dogged by serviceability issues, having to take their Battles to RAF Upwood for servicing, causing severe issues for those crews trying to increase their hours in the air. Combine that with the poor weather, snow by now having fallen, and temperatures dropping to below freezing, the winter months did not look promising for anyone stationed here at Sutton Bridge.

From Battles to Spitfires: The Transformation of 266 Squadron

The initial idea of 266 Sqn being an all two-seater squadron soon changed though. On the 10th January1940, news of their immediate change to Spitfire MK.Is came through, and keen to get into the air in one, pilots took every chance they could to get airborne – even flying in poor weather. But the weather can be a formidable enemy, and before long, all aircraft were grounded, as heavy and thick snow lay on the frozen ground for almost a month. Sutton Bridge was essentially closed in.

Entrance to bomb store 2.

The gradual change in status from a ‘two-seat’ squadron to a ‘single seat’ one, would also mean a change in personnel, as a single seat fighter unit, the Battle’s gunners were now surplus to requirements and so were posted out to other units where gunners were in much needed demand.

Eventually, as it usually does, the weather broke and the early spring temperatures began to slowly rise. The melting snow and frozen ground led to waterlogged runways as a thaw set in. Being low lying, water took a long time to drain away, and the runways quickly became bogs. The hopes of getting airborne were dashed as quickly as they were raised. With little flying happening, and new aircraft arriving (by early February the squadron had received nineteen Spitfires) pilots were soon queuing up to get a flight.

One notable incident during this time, led to the demise of Spitfire N3120 piloted by Flt. Lt. Ian Gleed. When testing the aircraft at 18,000 ft, for some reason, it disintegrated throwing Gleed from the cockpit. After the aircraft wreckage crashed into the Fen soil, the various parts were collected and taken to the Woolwich Arsenal, presumably for analysis, eventually ending up at the Kent Battle of Britain Museum on the former RAF Hawkinge airfield. Gleed was relatively unhurt after his accident, and was eventually passed fit for flying going on to continue his career in the RAF before being killed in 1943 in North Africa.

An Airfield Without a Squadron: Sutton Bridge in Transition

Another change for the squadron would come in February 1940, when they received the order to prepare to move and join 264 Sqn, at RAF Martlesham Heath taking their Spitfires with them. 254 Sqn, for whom serviceability had also continued to be an issue, also received their departure orders leaving for Bircham Newton in mid January joining Coastal Command, meaning that all three initial units under Fighter Command had now left Sutton Bridge for pastures new.

However, what the RAF really needed, were new aircrew and the training stations to create those pilots, gunners and Navigators. To cope with the massed intake of new recruits that would hopefully come, a series of Recruiting Centres were set up all over the country. Sutton Bridge suddenly, and once again, changed its status becoming a training centre for new recruits in RAF discipline, preparing them for the rigours of day-to-day life in the Royal Air Force. But this initiative was also short lived as Sutton Bridge was soon to become a Flying Training airfield once more, training these new pilots in the art of flight techniques and gunnery.

The station flight, which had been continuously based at the airfield, had been the primary reason for Sutton Bridge. It remained active throughout all these recent changes, towing drogues for air-to-air gunnery practise, but with the poor weather they had had little to do. With no flying, the ill-prepared aircraft that had landed at their feet were soon worked on and missing components quickly fitted. With the departure of the three main resident squadrons, it meant that new visitors could be no more than ‘entertained’ until flying could once again start to take place.

With the airfield now devoid of any major unit other than small training units like the Henley Target Towing flight, it was an ideal opportunity to open a new training unit specifically for fighter pilots, and so 6 Operational Training Unit (OTU) was born.

In the opening months of the Second World War, Sutton Bridge swung between roles with remarkable speed. From a brief stint as a recruit training centre to hosting newly formed 264 and 266 Squadrons, the airfield grappled with scarce aircraft, harsh winter weather, and early operational mishaps. Defiants, Blenheims, and then Spitfires tested both pilots and crews, while accidents and maintenance challenges were constant. By early 1940, with the squadrons gone, Sutton Bridge pivoted once more, becoming a hub for new recruits and small training flights, laying the groundwork for its next vital role as 6 Operational Training Unit.

The full story can be read in Trail 3 – Gone but not Forgotten.

RAF Sutton Bridge Part 2 – Flying Circuses and Fatal Risks.

January 17, 2026September 4, 2025 / Aviationtrails / 4 Comments

Part 1, gave us an insight into the reason for Sutton Bridge’s origin and how it developed into a more recognisable and efficient airfield.

The 1920s and 1930s, then saw Sutton Bridge develop further becoming a hub of daring displays, training activities, and aviation firsts. From thrilling aerobatics over the Fens to early bombing and gunnery trials, pilots and crews developed both skill and courage, often at deadly risk. As biplanes gave way to faster monoplanes and the Fleet Air Arm joined in, the airfield transformed from a seasonal training camp into a fully established RAF station, laying the foundations for its crucial role in the Second World War.

Flying Circuses and Fatal Risks: The 1920s at Sutton Bridge

The 1920s saw a range of squadrons use the site for short, week long stays, each flying in, completing practise days and then departing back to their home airfield. Many of the early users of the range and Sutton Bridge arrived in Leyland 3-ton trucks, a 1918 model with hard tyres. These advanced party trucks were packed with additional equipment: Bowsers, tail-trolleys, chocks and extra tool kits; all of which had to be unloaded before anyone could find themselves a bed for the night. The main party usually arrived shortly after, using the more comfortable train whilst the pilots took a leisurely flight bringing their aircraft in later on. *³

The number and range of aircraft that attended Sutton Bridge is far too many to list at this time, but records show the presence of some fifteen squadrons in one year alone, bringing a wide range of models and personnel. Such aircraft included: Hawker Woodcocks, Gloster Gamecocks, Bristol F2B Fighters, A.W. Siskins, Hawker Furys and Bristol Bulldogs to name but a few.

Interspersed with these flying activities, aircrew would put on displays for the locals who readily accepted them into their homes, pubs and dance halls. Dramatic flying completing loops and almost zero feet aerobatics amazed the gathered crowds, and the local swing-bridge became a ‘target’ to buzz and even fly underneath!*⁴ With all this daring activity, there was as a result, accidents both in the air and on the ground. Many of those lost were seasoned pilots from the First World War, and it would become a trend rather than a short lived phase in the airfield’s life.

The routine of bombing, air firing and displays would continue on until the weather began to close in, around about October. With that, the site would then shut with the tents and temporary accommodation taken away until the following spring.

From Experiment to Establishment: Sutton Bridge in the 1930s

The 1930s saw a global recession along with an increasing interest in Hitler’s activities in Germany. The British were beginning to think ahead, and Sutton Bridge quickly became a hive of activity, with wave after wave of dignitaries presenting themselves at the airfield to see the activities occurring at the site. Out on the ranges however, all was not going well. Biplanes of the 1930s launched bombs from carriers fitted beneath the fuselage, close to where the undercarriage was fixed, and on several occasions, the bombs caught the axle detonating in mid air. On more than one occasion, the aircraft was destroyed and the pilot killed by this very issue. Eventually, the Air Ministry called a halt to dive bombing, particularly at steep angles, but it had taken an airman’s death to trigger the move – at least until a better way of fixing the bombs could be found.

During these early years, the Fleet Air Arm (FAA) began to join the RAF in using Sutton Bridge, several Flights came and went enjoying the benefits of the nearby range. For the naval squadrons, Sutton Bridge offered an ideal shore base from where gunnery practice could be carried out over the Wash, away from the constraints of crowded airfields or carrier decks.

Among the earliest visitors was 801 Squadron, which detached to Sutton Bridge on a number of occasions – first recorded in July 1933, and again in May 1935 and January 1938. These short stays were typical of the Fleet Air Arm’s use of practice camps, allowing pilots and air gunners to sharpen their skills before re-joining their carriers. 802 Squadron followed a similar pattern, making use of Sutton Bridge in August 1934 and again in May 1935, its aircraft temporarily filling the skies over Lincolnshire before returning to front-line duties.*⁵*⁶

As the decade drew to a close, Fleet Air Arm activity at the airfield increased. In February 1939, 803 Squadron moved from Worthy Down to Sutton Bridge, settling in for a period of flying and training ashore. Not long afterwards, 800 Squadron, newly disembarked from HMS Ark Royal, also linked into this circuit of shore training, taking advantage of Sutton Bridge’s ranges as part of its spring 1939 programme.*⁷

Outside of the FAA’s activities, things at the airfield began to move forward. In 1933, prior to the winter closing in October, 23 Squadron took part in night firing trials using tracers being fired at drogues illuminated by searchlights on the ground. The first event witnessed by Group Captain Tedder, would eventually open a new chapter in the life of the airfield, allowing aircraft to fly from Sutton Bridge over the range to carry out night firing activities, something that continues on the range today.

Sutton Bridge officially became an airfield on March 1st, 1936, as a result of the reorganisation of the RAF commands. No longer a Summer Armament Training Camp, it received the status it needed – RAF Station Sutton Bridge – although it continued to remain under the control of the Air Armament School.

Pageantry and Public Spectacle

Sutton Bridge’s elevation to official RAF station status in that year brought little immediate operational change, but one development was significant: the construction of married quarters along Chalk Lane. These quarters still stand today but now as private housing. When built, they would accommodate married couples providing a comfortable alternative to those supplied to single men.

Perimeter track west side.

As a way of show-casing the RAF, many air pageants sprouted up around the country during this time, with military stations opening their doors to the general public. Sutton Bridge was no exception, with some 3,000 people attending its first on 23rd May 1936. A grand display of aerobatics and formation flying, was supported by open hangars and pilots keen to provide information and encouragement to those wanting to know more.

During these shows, pilots would fly along the adjacent River Nene, which being banked by high flood banks, could approach unseen by those waiting on the other side. As they neared the swing bridge they would rise up and over the bank in dramatic style surprising the waiting audience. A feat of daring that was repeated regularly up until a year later in the 1937 Empire Day at the airfield. This final event, was a dismal day, with very poor weather and low visibility, little flying took place, and whilst it would have been hoped to have continued on, it would unfortunately be the end for Sutton Bridge, as it was to never take part in public days again. With war now inevitable, preparations began to be made that would supersede any public engagements.

From Biplanes to Monoplanes: Trials at Sutton Bridge

The looming war accelerated change. Outdated biplanes, long being the backbone of the RAF, began to give way to sleek new monoplanes. Hurricanes, Spitfires and Blenheims were soon seen at Sutton Bridge, foreshadowing the modern era of aerial warfare, though training still relied heavily on older aircraft. The introduction of the Henley, Hawker’s own monoplane bomber designed to a specification for a light day-bomber that was capable of providing close air-support, was tried and tested with 350 initially ordered by the government. However, after a change in policy, this was reduced to 200 and even these being demoted to second line duties.

The promising aircraft, the younger brother of the Hurricane, never reached its potential, cut short before it had time to prove itself; many ended up as engine test beds or more likely, target tugs which caused many to have engine problems due to the low speeds it had to maintain with its high powered Merlin engine.

The second Henley prototype, K7554, fitted with a windmill-driven target winch (@BAE Systems.)*⁸

It was four of these Henleys that found themselves at Sutton Bridge where they were ‘downgraded’ and used as a Target Towing aircraft under 3 ATS between 1936 and 1939.

The Shadow of War: Sutton Bridge in 1939

1939 saw Europe heading catastrophically toward conflict, and this conflict was the reason for the reduced stay of 64 Sqn in August that year. On the 12th, they were ordered from their base at Church Fenton to Sutton Bridge for an armament training period, but owing to the worsening situation on the continent, this was cut short, and on the 24th, they were recalled. Within a week, like many other squadrons, they were ordered to mobilise.

Just before the outbreak of war, a sudden posting of the Training School from Sutton Bridge signalled what may have been its demise. But, the next day, one of the world’s most famous speeches was given, and Britain entered the war with Germany.

By the end of the 1930s, Sutton Bridge had grown from a temporary summer camp into a fully operational RAF station, shaped by innovation, spectacle, and the relentless demands of training aircrew. The lessons learned here – from aerobatic displays and night-firing trials to early experiments with new aircraft – prepared both pilots and the airfield itself for the pressures of wartime service. As Europe edged closer to conflict, Sutton Bridge stood ready, its evolving infrastructure and experienced personnel poised to meet the coming challenges of the Second World War.

The full story can be read in Trail 3 – Gone but not Forgotten.