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

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 5 – The arrival of The CGS

In Part 4, the birth of 6 OTU turned Sutton Bridge into 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.

In Part 5, the war expands, the need for pilots increases and the dangers become evermore present.

1941: The Expanding War

Whilst the threat of invasion had subsided by the end of 1941, attacks from German bombers were never far from the minds of those in command. With Sutton Bridge being one of the largest training airfields certainly in Lincolnshire and perhaps across England, it was rarely devoid of attention from the Luftwaffe.

As we have seen, few of these attacks caused little damage, the Q site taking more substantial hits than the airfield. However, attacks did occur, and the loss of a Hampden on 13th May 1941, was among one of the more serious ones.

On each of these bombing occasions fighters were scrambled from Sutton Bridge with little or no success in shooting down the enemy aircraft, but one, a JU 88 of 4./NJG 2, was brought down with the crew being killed. One of those onboard was recovered and it is he, Unteroffizier Heinz Schulz, who is laid to to rest among the sixty graves in St. Matthew’s. Some sources credit a Sutton Bridge Hurricane with the demise of the JU 88, whilst others say it was a night fighter from 25 Sqn at Wittering.

The Air Ministry then decided that with the threat of attack still  present, those airfields nearest the continent would have to be moved, and with enemy bomber formations attacking across East Anglia, Sutton Bridge was seen as one needing such a move.  As a result, contingency plans were put in place to accommodate this and 56 OTU was earmarked to move to Hawarden. However, the move never materialised, and the OTU remained firmly where they were – at least for now.

An International Gathering

The influx of American volunteers was only part of a much wider story as Sutton Bridge became a melting pot of Allied airmen. Norwegians, French, Polish, Canadians, Indians, New Zealanders and Australians all came here to learn the trade of aerial warfare. Many of the continental pilots had left their own homes when they fell to the Germans, escaping to England where they joined the RAF to fight another day. Others simply answered the call to join up and fight against the Nazis.

One such pilot was Indian born P.O. Mahinder Pujji who would go on to serve with great distinction after answering an advert in India, for recruits to join the Royal Air Force.

Mahinder arrived in the UK in August 1940, and by the October  he had received the King’s Commission. His journey to war was similar to many others, with his initial training being undertaken at RAF Uxbridge before he transferred to No. 9 Advanced Unit at RAF Hullavington. It was here that he joined the first group of Indian pilots selected for the Volunteer Reserve Commission. Out of twenty-four trainees, eighteen qualified, with six – including Pujji – going on to become fighter pilots.

After receiving his Wings on 16th April 1941 he was posted here to 56 OTU and Sutton Bridge. Training alongside other pilots he completed his course and was sent to RAF Martlesham Heath and his first frontline squadron 43 Sqn. After only a short period he transferred again, this time to RAF Kenley and 258 Sqn.

Despite suffering several crashes Mahinder would survive the war, achieving two ‘kills’ and three ‘damaged’, and rose to Squadron Leader. His career spanned three theatres of war – a remarkable journey that began on the flat fenland runways of Sutton Bridge.

P.O. Mahinder Pujji who trained at Sutton Bridge (Wikipedia)

Crowded Skies, Growing Dangers

This continual flow of airmen through the airfield meant that the numbers on roll were increasing steadily, and to match that, by May 1941, the number of aircraft available at Sutton Bridge had also steadily but substantially increased. 56 OTU now able to operate some seventy serviceable Hurricanes.

For some, the cold and damp British weather of 1941 was a far cry from home, and fog often caught the unwary out. The idiosyncrasies of the Hurricane also took a little getting use to. On October 20th 1941, P.O. Norman Choppen lost power and crashed into the ground after he had entered a shallow dive, possibly with the idea of bringing the Hurricane down to land.  Ten days later, three more aircraft were severely damaged when P.O. McKillop, Sgt. Zadworthy and Sgt. Johnson all landed breaking the undercarriages off of their Hurricanes. Along with four deaths and other accidents, the period from early October to mid November was the most costly in human terms.

1942: Transition and Advanced Training

The transition between 1941 and 1942 saw little change and little in the way of drama at Sutton Bridge. But the beginning of the new year was marred by yet another serious collision in which the crews of two aircraft were killed. However, these were not two fighters, but a Hurricane from Sutton Bridge and a Stirling based at Oakington and 7 Squadron.

On January 17th, 1942 Stirling W7467, piloted by Flt. Sgt. R.W. Taylor was out on a training mission when it was the recipient of an unauthorised ‘attack’ from Hurricane V6865 from the OTU at Sutton Bridge. In the attack, Pilot Officer Derek Browne, aged just 19, made several high speed passes at the Stirling as it headed home. On the last pass, Browne misjudged the distance between himself and the Stirling and rammed the bomber’s fuselage.

The eight crew of the bomber, had attempted to warn Browne off by firing their guns toward the Hurricane, but this failed to deter Browne from his dangerous activities and the ultimate and tragic sacrifice was paid.

The Stirling, being over the soft soil at Haddenham Drain (about 1.5 miles north of Earith Bridge in Cambridgeshire), plunged some 15 feet into the ground leaving a crater that burned for several days before finally filling with water. The condition of the ground meant that the task of recovering two of the crew’s remains, Sgt. McCarley and Sgt. Mankelow was impossible and they remain there to this day. *15

Stirling Memorial (RAF Oakington)

The Memorial to those lost on 17th January 1942. (Paul Cannon)

Changes were afoot – The Central Gunnery School arrives at Sutton Bridge

By March, further changes were afoot and 56 OTU was ordered north to RAF Tealing. Some estimates have the number of pilots passing through here at this point as high as 1,000, many of whom went on to fight in Britain’s darkest hour – the Battle of Britain.

The change of ownership at Sutton Bridge brought with it the Central Gunnery School (CGS), an organisation first established at RAF Warmwell on 6th November 1939. Its role was to provide advanced training for gunnery instructors, covering both fighter gunnery – through the Pilot Gunnery Instructor Wing – and bomber gunnery, via the Gunnery Leader Wing. In essence, the CGS was designed to “train the trainers”, developing specialists who would then return to operational units and pass on their expertise to their own gunners.

Just before the CGS arrived, Sutton Bridge had already experienced a brief period of instructor training with the arrival of No. 2 Flying Instructors’ School (Advanced). Re-formed at RAF Montrose in January 1942, No. 2 FIS (Advanced) provided advanced courses for experienced pilots preparing to become instructors. By March that year the unit had moved to Sutton Bridge, but its independent life was short-lived. On 28th March 1942 it was absorbed into the newly established CGS, which officially transferred from Chelveston to Sutton Bridge on 1st April 1942, the anniversary of the RAF’s formation.

From that point on, the CGS became synonymous with Sutton Bridge, remaining the station’s longest-serving wartime unit. Its dual structure meant that both fighter and bomber gunnery specialists were trained side by side, bringing a wide variety of aircraft to the airfield. Wellingtons, Hampdens, Spitfires and Mustangs all became familiar sights in the skies over the Wash as instructor after instructor refined their skills.

Gunnery Leaders’ Course, RAF Sutton Bridge, October 1942 (IBCC Digital Archive, CC BY-NC 4.0).

The CGS’s arrival also meant the departure of the longstanding 1489 Target Towing Flight (TT) who had used both the Henly and Lysander as target tugs. With the CGS utilising the range at Holbeach much more along with their own target tugs, the TT Flight were seen as surplus to requirements and transferred out to RAF Matlaske on the North Norfolk coast.

More changes at the Top

Taking up a new post at the CGS, Chief Instructor Sqn. Ldr. Allan Wright, arrived in a Hampden flown by Flt. Lt. Claude Mandeville. He would join Wing Commander Adolf ‘Sailor‘ Malan DSO. DFC. who between them would take charge of the unit  knocking it into shape as quickly as possible. Above them, was the newly appointed and formidable Station Commander Grp. Capt. Claud Hilton Keith who had been told by the AOC that this command was “dirty, unhappy and inefficient.”*16

Keith would run the CGS in a much more professional manner than had been done before, providing expert training to those who had already achieved operational experience and had proven themselves in air gunnery. To him, it was a privilege to attend the CGS, and standards were set very high.

With courses running for both bomber gunners and fighter pilots, one would be used to ‘attack’ the other whilst cine film recordings in both aircraft were made for later analysis. This proved a useful tool that kept pilots, gunners and much needed aircraft out of relative harm’s way.

The CGS’s ever increasing thirst for quality instructors led to the arrival of Flt. Lt. Richard A.D. Trevor-Roper DFC, DFM in August 1943. Roper was just short of two tours in bombers, when he was drafted into 617 Sqn and the tail end of Guy Gibson’s Lancaster on the famous Dams raid. He brought a wealth of experience and knowledge to the courses at Sutton Bridge which he shared with those he instructed before being eventually posted back to an operational unit.

When Arthur Harris ordered the first of the 1,000 bomber raids, it was an all out effort to get every bomber available in to the air and over Germany. Sutton Bridge and the CGS played their part getting three war-weary time-expired Wellingtons into the air. Each of these bombers flew to RAF Feltwell, where they joined the resident 75 Sqn for operations to Koln. Mainly crewed and maintained by CGS personnel, the Wellingtons included a MK.1A, an aircraft that had long since seen its day, and should have been scrapped, or at least reduced to lesser duties. But determined to do their part, the crew took off from Feltwell and set off toward Germany.

After departure at 23:57 on May 30th, the bomber was not heard from again, and was subsequently found to have been shot down by a night fighter over Klarenbeek in Holland. All but one of the crew on board were killed in the attack, the survivor, Flt. Sgt. G. J. Waddington-Allwright, being taken prisoner and incarcerated as a POW.

The two sections of the CGS (fighter and bomber wings) were initially operating separately, the fighter wing being brought down from Wittering to join the bomber wing at Sutton Bridge in April 1942. With them, came Spitfires, so many in fact, that they quickly lost their ‘head turning’ appeal to both pilots and locals alike. One of these aircraft, P7350, had served with 603 Sqn during the Battle of Britain. After being shot down, repaired and returned to service on more than one occasion, it ended up starring in the 1968 film “Battle of Britain” before heading off to the Battle of Britain Memorial Flight at RAF Coningsby where it continues to fly today. It remains the only air worthy example of its type that actually flew and fought in the Battle in 1940.

Spitfire

Spitfire P7350 formally of the CGS Sutton Bridge at Duxford September 2014

Rocket-Firing Hurricane Trials

Another important milestone in the history of Sutton Bridge was the testing of rocket firing Hurricanes as developed by the Aircraft and Armament Experimental Establishment at Boscombe Down. Hurricanes fitted with rocket projectiles used the range at Holbeach whilst being temporarily based at Sutton Bridge. One of these Hurricanes (of which there were initially two) was flown by Wg. Cdr. Albert F. Bennet. Bennet flew Z2415 to Sutton Bridge where he began trials firing the 3-inch projectiles at targets in the Wash. On his second day of flying, July 1st, 1942, the Hurricane, for unknown reasons, suddenly exploded over the village  killing 29 year-old Bennet in the process. Debris from the explosion was scatted over a wide area and two civilians on the ground were also injured. Bennet was later taken to Brookwood Cemetery where he is buried in plot 24. B. 13. *17

By 1941 Sutton Bridge had grown into a bustling hub of Allied air training, hosting a mix of British, European, Commonwealth, and American pilots. 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.

Part 6 takes us to the end of the war and Sutton Bridge’s final days.

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

RAF Scone – A little airfield with a big History (4)

In Part 3, we saw how Scone grew in the post war era, taking on more civilian operations, training pilots from around the world. This continued on in the years that followed and so the airfield grew even more.

Airwork’s ideas were big though, and one of the major changes they would make would be the extension of the runways adding not one but two tarmac runways of 2,800 ft and 2,000 ft in 1968. Scone then became the only UK Air Training School to have such facilities. As an international training college it was going to need to be able to accommodate large numbers of personnel, students and aircraft.

By the 1970s Scone had reached a peak with in excess of 400 students being trained at any one time. Catering for all these nationalities was hard work and a separate school had to be set up to standardise the language.  A School of English taught both basic English and technical English, meaning that by this time not only were pilots and engineers being trained in aeronautical procedures, but English as well. The AST became so busy, that it boasted of being “the largest civil aviation training organisation in the world”.*3

The demand for Scone’s operations continued to grow, as did the airfield itself.  Development took another step forward in the late 1970s and early 1980s when Air Service Training Ltd. expanded yet again. With huge increases in overseas student numbers (over 100 nationalities) a new hall had to be built to provide accommodation for them all. This was Stormont Hall, a large building with all the facilities needed to accommodate and cater for all student needs.

However, like many aviation related histories, things took a turn in the 1990s. Political moves by the Civil Aviation Authority and the Government, combined with changing global economies, caused AST to cease training overseas pilots at the international college at Scone. By April 1996, following the closure of the college, the site owners, Caledonian Investments, broke the news to its users, that it was selling up and in August, Scone was put on the market with a £3m price tag; the end of an era had apparently come to an abrupt end.*4

However, the move did not initially prove to be too much of a set back for AST and Scone as a whole, as it was able to bolster its maintenance programme with the purchase of a Jetstream from Cranfield University. The facilities for the programme, primarily the hangar,  proved to be too small, so a larger one was obtained, on lease, from the Airport authorities, and was officially opened for business in November 2008 after an opening ceremony led by the then-Cabinet Secretary for Education and Lifelong Learning, Fiona Hyslop MSP.*3

A buyer for Scone was soon found however, and in 1997, the airport was purchased as a going concern by the Morris Leslie Group, who allowed the various companies to continue to operate as normal from the airfield. Scone, or now Perth airport, had a new lease of life and would quickly grow to some fifty companies employing around 400 people once more. It has also updated many of the former buildings, providing both residential properties and workshops. It has over recent years, welcomed high prestige figures including Queen Elizabeth, former President George Bush and Prince Andrew.

AST continue to operate from Scone under the new owner, and they are not alone. Other organisations include the Scottish Aero Club (formerly The Scottish Flying Club) and whose history, goes back to 1927, and who relocated to Scone in 1956, joining ranks with the Strathtay Aero Club to form the new  club.  The Aero Club remains Scotland’s largest flying club and continues to offer rotary and fixed wing training as well as both auto-gyro and micro-light flying. It also provides maintenance for those aircraft located on the site.

Other users of Perth include Scotland’s Charity Air Ambulance (SCAA) flying the EC135-T2 helicopter, a charitable organisation that relies solely on donations to keep it flying. It was formed in 2012 and launched a helicopter air ambulance in May 2013 to assist the Scottish Air Ambulance Service (SAAS) to deliver front-line care to time-critical emergencies across Scotland. SCAA provides a fully equipped medical helicopter that can be deployed to incidents across the length and breadth of Scotland.

Today many of the wartime buildings remain, in use, by small industrial units. The Battle Headquarters, can be seen from the road very much exposed, as all but the top slotted observation ‘turret’ would normally be underground. The accommodation and technical areas are located together and many now form part of a small hotel for those visiting the area.

There are three runways in use, two of concrete / tarmac and one of grass, these being 2,799 ft and 1,998 feet, the third grass runway is 2,040 feet, all joined at the ends to form a perimeter. Two large hangars hold around 85 aircraft with further space for 15 more parked on the apron.

The airfield lies a few miles north of Perth, the main A94 offers access to the airfield and views across some of the site. It sits on a hill and so much of it is hidden from view at ground level. Being an active airfield, access is limited and understandably restricted. However, views of the current residents are available and many of the wartime buildings are accessible operating as retail and industrial units.

RAF Scone (Perth Airport)

The Battle Headquarters is very much exposed, this would normally be below ground level with only the slits visible.

Scone for such a small airfield, has had a long and fruitful history. Its links to pilot training, especially throughout the war years, no doubt sent many airmen to front line squadrons, many of whom  would go onto serve in some of Britain’s fiercest air battles. A small and often rudimentary airfield, it played a huge part in Britain’s wartime and post-war aviation history, and long may it continue.

The full history of Scone can be read in Trail 56.

Sources and further reading (RAF Scone).

*1 University of Glasgow website. Accessed 10.2.25

*2 McCloskey. K., “Airwork – A History“. The History Press, 2012.

*3 The Herald Newspaper, 16th August 2020, via website

*4 The Herald Newspaper, 9th August 1996 via website

Perth Airport website

National Archives AIR 27/1679/1; AIR 27/1679/1

McCloskey, K. “Airwork – A history” The History Press, 2012

Lake, A., “Flying Units of the Royal Air Force“, Airlife, 1999.

McKay, S., “Secret Britain” Headline Publishing Group. 2021

Lake. A., “Flying Units of the RAF“. Air Life Publishing, 1999.

RAF Scone – A little airfield with a big History (3)

In Part 2, Scone supported the RAF throughout the war, training pilots and navigators in a range of aircraft. Post war, this demand reduced, but it was not the RAF’s end with Scone, nor the end of pilot training.

With Airwork now owning the site outright, they began to look to the future. In 1950, BEA began trials with flights to Renfrew and Glasgow, a scheme that was hoping to open doors to destinations wider afield, but it was not successful and so the idea never came to fruition. Keen to expand, Airwork then took on conversion flying for the Admiralty, converting naval pilots to from single to twin-engined aircraft. They also carried out engineering and navigational training and began work overhauling radio systems, the future was looking bright for the expanding airfield.

The December of 1950 saw the Glasgow University Air Squadron (UAS) move to Scone as a temporary measure whilst their runway at Abbotsinch was resurfaced. As a result, Airwork became responsible for the maintenance of the training aircraft they were using, primarily Tiger Moths and Miles Magisters. Airwork soon came up with the idea of a trophy to be contested for by the various Scottish University Air Squadrons, called the Scone Cup,  the first competition was held in October 1951 and won by Glasgow. After a further name change of the UAS to Universities of Glasgow and Strathclyde Air Squadron (UGSAS) in 1965, the squadron re-equipped with DH Chipmunks, bringing yet another type to the small Scottish airfield.

RAF Scone (Perth Airport)

Old buildings are utilised for modern purposes.

Meanwhile the Scone Cup continued, as did the relationship between Scone and the various Air Squadrons, until in 1969, when the RAF centralised all its maintenance work at RAF Turnhouse, and the link with Scone was broken. The GSAS were then reassigned back to Glasgow airport, the location of its origin way back in April 1941.

Like so many other contracts with the military post war, the Admiralty’s pilot training programme wouldn’t last long either, and a gradual reduction in the need for pilot training for the service, forced Airwork to look elsewhere for their trade. The dynamic years that followed saw a huge growth in civil aviation, with jets now spanning the globe in hours and not days, and private flying was becoming evermore affordable to the masses. It was this opportunity that Airwork seized, becoming the first civil school to gain an Instrument rating course certificate for pilot training.

This enabled the now renamed ‘Airwork School of Aviation’ to officially offer its services to civilian operators for the first time, an offer that was taken up by numerous airlines including the first, Sudan Airways, with the first trainees arriving in November 1955.

Although the Navy had ended its contract with Airwork and Scone, it was not the end of military training for good. Whilst 1957 brought the disbandment of some landmark units, on March 8th, another training unit, 1 Civilian Fighter Control Co-Operation unit, formed here at Scone operating the Avro Anson T22. Little seems to be published about the activities of this unit, but I would assume it was, like other training units at Scone, operated by civilians working as part of the Royal Air Force’s training programme. The unit remained active here at Scone, until 31st January 1961 where upon it was disbanded. A year after its cessation on May 10th, an Anson of the unit ‘VV977’ was sold as scrap at No.27 Maintenance Unit (MU) at Shawbury.

With that any RAF connections with Perth ceased. The airfield was passed to ACS Aviation, who claim to be the “leading Commercial Flight Training Organisation in Scotland”. Operating a range of services including commercial pilot training and maintenance provisions.

By the turn of the 1950s / 60s, Scone was heralded as a thriving pilot training facility, seen by many organisations as one of the best available. In acknowledgement of this, the recently formed British United Airways sent their pilots here and were quickly followed by other UK based airlines. The prestige that attracted these airlines  led to an award by the Ministry of Aviation confirming Scone’s high ranking status, something that had not been done before to any other UK based school.

Airwork’s organisation stretched the length and breadth of the UK, and as military reorganisations took place, so some of Airwork’s units were either closed or relocated to alternative locations. In the early 1960s, Scones Airwork School of Aviation began to expand further by taking over the School of Aeronautical Engineering from Hamble, which led to yet another name change to Airwork Services Training (AST) to match the new role now being served at Scone. As the school developed and established itself at Scone, so it too began to expand, delving into the roles of electrical, turbine and rotary fields, all of which required further development of the pre-war site.

RAF Scone (Perth Airport)

Modern day Scone is home to a large number of small aircraft.

As Airwork has expanded into the rotary field, the next natural step was to train helicopter pilots at the airfield. The first such operation took place on 30th September 1963, with students from the Ghana Air Force. The instructor on that course, one Cryil Sweetman, would go onto gain his own fifteen minutes of fame flying a Hiller UH-12C in James Bond’s ‘From Russia with Love.’

The growth of Scone continued on throughout the (1960s) decade. During these years no less than thirty Cessnas (130 and 150 models) were brought into the airfield to train pilots, a number that would make it the largest fleet in Europe, giving Scone the advantage over other European training centres. Combine that with the additional training facilities and private maintenance work, Scone was rapidly becoming one of the biggest players in the civil aviation industry.

In the final part, we see how Scone had grown from strength tot  strength, through different ownership it has continued to supply training for new and established pilots, establishing itself as one of the largest training centres around.

The full history of Scone can be read in Trail 56.

RAF Scone – A little airfield with a big History (2)

Part 1 of this trail, saw how Scone began its life, and how through private enterprise, it developed into a pilot training centre for RAF pilots. As the need for pilots and navigators increases so does the work at Scone.

On September 3rd 1939, with Britain’s declaration of war, the training units operating on behalf of the RAF were immediately reorganised and re-designated, 11 E&RFTS becoming known more simply as 11 Elementary Flying Training School (EFTS).

This reorganisation of training schools also led to new aircraft, the Tiger Moths currently under civilian registration, were given military designations (BB672 – BB692) and the Hart trainers were replaced by Miles Magisters. Whilst ground crews remained as civilians, the instructors were drafted into the RAF and the school became RAF controlled.

Also at this time, Airwork formed and operated a further training unit here at Scone, 7 Civil Air Navigation School (CANS) flying Avro Ansons. Like 11 E&RFTS, they were, in October, disbanded and re-designated 7 Air Observers Navigation School (AONS), this new designation beginning on 1st November 1939. To fulfil their role, they would then take on eight Dragon Rapides, specifically to train new crews in cross country navigation techniques. After further expansion of both aircraft numbers and type, on June 1st 1940, the AONS was disbanded, further streamlining of training units meaning these needs were met elsewhere.

It was in these early war years that Scone almost became the hub for vital research into radar, when in late 1939, the Telecommunications Research Establishment (TRE) relocated here from Bawdsey Manor in Suffolk; mainly to be away from prying eyes but also away from the possibility of attack by German bombers. The pioneer of radar Robert Watson-Watt, grew up in this region and later went to University here, so it was a natural place to move the research to. However, once at RAF Scone, it was realised that the facilities were far to rudimentary and completely insufficient to accommodate the amount of work  needed to carry out this vital research. So, in early 1940, the establishment moved again this time near to Swanage on the Dorset coast. Scone’s fifteen minutes of fame had sadly and quickly passed them by.

Then in early November 1940, 309 Squadron sent a detachment of Lysander IIIs to Scone. Only recently formed, they remained here for about six months, being primarily based at Renfrew where the Polish pilots found the number of woods and railway lines confusing. The sole purpose of 309 Sqn was as a Polish Co-operation unit to work in conjunction with the C-in-C of the Polish Army. It was unique in that it was ‘double’ ranked, having both British and Polish officers in charge, the idea being that once the Polish personnel were in place the British would be pulled out and the squadron would operate as an independent Polish unit. A series of training flights were carried out by the Polish pilots, but with lectures being carried out through a translator, it was often a difficult task to do.

In September 1941, ‘E’ Flight of 11 EFTS  was used to form a new training unit, 5 Flying Instructors School (Supplementary) then again simply to the Flying Instructors School, finally becoming the Flying Instructors School (Elementary) from April 1942. The small number of resident pilot instructors flew Miles Masters and Tiger Moths training hundreds of pilots between them before the unit was eventually disbanded in November 1942.

Scone airport looking south in 1947. (@Britain from above)

The remainder of 11 EFTS continued on to the war’s end however, gradually being reduced in size as demand for new pilots decreased. Post war, in 1947, it was renamed as 11 Reserve Flying School (RFS) still operated by Airwork and still flying the biplane the Tiger Moth along with Airspeed Oxfords, Ansons and Hawk trainers. By 1954, the unit had wound down finally being disbanded that same year on the 20th June.

The immediate post war years also saw a huge closure of now ‘unwanted’ airfields, all surplus to requirements. Many were put into care and maintenance or reserved for future use should east-west relations diminish. RAF Errol, located to the east of Scone between Perth and Dundee, was closed and proposals put forward to turn it into a municipal airport for Perth and Dundee. This proposal allowed Airwork to put forward their own offer to Perth Town Council for the site at Scone, the offer (£54,000) was quickly accepted and the deal was finalised and ownership handed over on 31st July 1946, just four months after the initial offer was made.

The war’s end allowed many of the former civilian clubs to reinstate their operations, some though, were unable to due to high costs or lack of suitable facilities. The Strathtay Aero Club, who were one of the lucky ones, were once again able to continue their operations with Airwork at Scone.

Throughout the 1940s, a resurgence of public events saw many air pageants and displays take place across the country. At Perth, the Strathtay Aero Club in conjunction with Airwork, organised its first post war air display attracting around 10,000 spectators, highlighting the renewed interest in aviation at that time.

Amongst those present at the display on 16th August 1947, were the Lord Provost Ure Primrose and Air Marshal Sir Richard Peirse. Aircraft taking part ranged from Bleriot’s 1909 monoplane to a squadron of clipped wing Spitfires. A short film of the event is available to view through the British Pathe News website.

Thus renewed interest in civilian flying, allowed Scone (Airwork) to become the saviour of yet another civilian aeroclub, and another that had been forcible suspended by the war. The Scottish Flying Club (SFC), who were initially based at Renfrew and whose buildings 309 Sqn moved into, were closed following the declaration of war and evicted from their premises. After being ejected from their airfield, they found themselves in the awkward position of having nowhere to operate from and unable to afford the high fees being charged by many civilian operators in the immediate post war years.

Airwork allowed the SFC to use Scone’s facilities in such a way that Airwork made no profit out of the agreement. This was clearly a saving grace for the club who eventually joined forces with the Strathtay Aero Club later in 1956, to form a new organisation, The Scottish Aero Club, who would continue to operate from here at Scone.

But the RAF had not finished with Scone yet. In 1949, 666 Squadron was reformed at Scone as an Royal Auxiliary Air Force unit (RAuxAF) comprising of the 1966 Air Observation Post Flight (AOP), the 1967 (AOP) Flight at Renfrew and the 1968 (AOP) Flight at Abbotsinch. The squadron flew Austers Vs and VIs, in a cooperation role with Army units, but by 1957 all three flights, and thus the squadron, had ceased to exist when a letter, signed by the Queen, was handed to more than eighty senior officers of the RAuxAF, officially ending its existence as a military unit. With that, thirty-two years of history had come to an end, a history that had seen the RAuxAF take part in virtually all of Britain’s major air battles since 1925.

With the war over, the RAF’s need for pilots reduces dramatically and so does the need for supporting civilian operations. However, at Scone, operations go from strength to strength.

The full history of Scone can be read in Trail 56.

RAF Scone – A little airfield with a big History (1)

In Trail 56, we head north once again, this time across the River Tay into Perthshire,  the gateway to the Highlands.

The grand city of Perth boasts a majestic history, once the capital of Scotland, it is a city with galleries, museums and stunning architecture; described by VisitScotland.com as “a picturesque playground for Kings and Queens“, and rightly so.

The village that gave this airfield its name, has its own history, going back as far as the Iron age. Once the seat of Royals, it is mentioned in Shakespeare’s Macbeth, and once housed the famous ‘Stone of Scone‘ or ‘Coronation stone‘ that has for centuries been used for coronations of the Kings and Queens of Scotland and England. It was stolen by King Edward I of England who took it to London, where it remained until 1950 when it was stolen once more by four Scottish students and taken back to Scotland. It was a year later, returned to London where it remained, being used for the coronation of Queen Elizabeth II. In 1996, the Queen and Prime Minister agreed the stone should be returned to Edinburgh on the proviso that it be brought to London for any future coronations, the last one being King Charles III – it must be the most famous 125kg of rock anywhere in the world. *1

So, on Trail 56 after passing through the beautiful city of Perth and onto this small but famous village, we find one former RAF airfield that has since become Perth Airport. Located in the same region as Scone Castle, we now visit the former RAF Scone.

RAF Scone.

RAF Scone was built in the 1930s, and has been known by a series of names: Perth Airport, Perth Aerodrome, Perth Municipal Airport, RAF Perth, RAF Scone and Scone Aerodrome. The airfield is located about 3.5 miles north-east of the aforementioned city of Perth.

In the days before Scone was built, the Lord Provost of Perth, Thomas Hunter, had an idea to build an aerodrome near to his home town, designated Newlands aerodrome. The idea never came to fruition however, and no real progress was ever made on the site. However, in 1935, with the rumblings of war in Europe, the Government announced the expansion of the Royal Air Force, and so the idea was taken up again, this time by Sir John Ure Primrose.

Sir John, with support from many Perth Councillors, put forward a plan costing some £20,000 for an aerodrome, and with a small committee of members, began to seek advice from a number of sources including the aircraft company A.M. Airwork Ltd., and the architects Norman, Muntz and Dawbarn. After looking at the designs and reviewing Sir John’s plans, a revised model was put forward doubling the cost to some £40,000.

The new scheme was passed however, and 250 acres of woodland and pasture were purchased from two local landowners, Scone Estates and J. Patrick Cuthbert of Barclayhills. In September 1935, work began on clearing the site which employed around 440 labourers and tradesmen all employed by two companies, Maxwell M. Hart & Co. and William Taylor & Son.*2

It was agreed that the running of the airfield would be undertaken by the Airwork company, who were founded in 1928 and based at the then Heston Aerodrome in Middlesex. For much of this time, Airwork’s chief pilot was Captain Valentine Baker MC, DFC, who later joined forces with Sir James Martin to form the now famous  Martin-Baker company, famous for it ejector seats found on numerous fast jests world wide.

RAF Scone (Perth Airport)

Numerous buildings survive from Scones wartime past.

Initially Scone (pronounced Scoone) aerodrome, would be a municipal aerodrome used by various civilian operators including North Eastern Airways and Railway Air Services, who made both local and national flights as far as London and Aberdeen. Some of these flights began in the dawning of 1936, before the airfield had officially opened and so the future looked fairly bright.

This burning light was also fuelled by the formation of the Strathtay Aero Club here at Scone, on May 29th 1936. Set up by three ex-RAF personnel, its initial operations were short lived however, being suspended due to the impending war in Europe. Despite this, with the war’s end in 1945, the club was allowed to continue these operations, including holding major events in 1947 leading to further growth over the next few years.

However, with increasing tension on the continent in the 30s, the RAF’s expansion was paramount and it would take preference over civilian operations. Not only would huge numbers of military personnel be required – an additional 2,000 pilots and over 16,000 ground personnel – but new airfields to operate and fly the aeroplanes from to wage such a war.

With some fifty new aerodromes required by the end of 1937, and so many new pilots to train, elementary flying training would have to form a major constituent of the programme, the majority of which would pass to civilian hands allowing the RAF to focus their efforts on advanced flying techniques. To meet this demand, civilian centres were to be increased from four to an initial thirteen *1, of which Scone would be one.

The entire training programme was overhauled with separate sites providing different instructions – ground or air – and a new RAF Volunteer Reserve class was set up to provide temporary training to cadets designated the rank of Sergeant. It was planned that those part-time trainees located at Scone, would learn to fly in one of twelve aircraft, each aircraft accumulating as many as 3,500 flying hours each year as a result.

The demand was therefore great, and Scone’s civilian operators, who were by now well established, would be joined on 27th January 1936, by No. 11 Elementary & Reserve Flying Training School (E&RFTS) operating under the control of 51 Group RAF, who were then based in Leeds. Even though 11E&RFTS were a military unit, their pilots would be trained by civilian instructors whilst they were stationed at the airfield.

It was clear at this point though, that Scone’s infrastructure was going to be insufficient for both the military and Airwork’s needs, and further land and development was going to be required. To this end, another 120 acres were either purchased, or leased from local landowners, allowing the development, now costing £60,000, to have two runways, 1,000ft and 4,200ft both initially of grass. These new extensions and the extra teaching facilities provided would add both space and accommodation to the original large hangar, administration and support buildings,  terminal and its six cottages.

Airwork’s influence stretched far beyond the boundaries of Scone though, their experiences elsewhere allowing them to develop the airfield and provide much of the infrastructure themselves. As an established aviation company they already provided maintenance facilities and operations across Britain, supporting what would become a thriving civil aviation network. In fact, this additional work would provide as much for the aviation industry as the flying training did.

RAF Scone (Perth Airport)

The current Watch Office at Scone (Perth Airport).

The original twelve training aircraft supplied by the RAF were also going to be insufficient, so a further eight were obtained giving of total of twenty, a mix of  Tiger Moths (DH.82) along with a handful of Hawker Harts and Hawker Hinds. Over the next few months, various other models would be obtained and used by the unit at Scone, these included:  Audax, Fairy Battles and Avro Ansons at some point.

With the number of operators using the site growing, it was going to be busy, and the ground would take considerable punishment. But the cold winter weather prevented the growth of newly laid grass and so, for a period of some two months, 11 E&RFTS moved out until the grass had established itself and the colder weather had passed.

Not long after this, the airfield was officially opened. On June 5th, 1936, a grand ceremony, led by Viscount Swindon, and a number of dignitaries, saw the airfield officially handed over to the Airwork Company under the management of P. Perkins, the general manager of Airworks – Scone had been born.

Even with all the development and extension work that had been going on, Scone would remain a relatively rudimentary station. On site, there would be a watch office, a single Civil 160 x 90 ft hangar; one 120 x 110 ft hangar, six blister hangars but no hardstands and the runways remained grass. A hard perimeter track did circumnavigate the airfield and although it only had two runways,  a third strip was also used. A set up that would see Scone enter the war.

In Part 2, Scone develops as the war progresses. Pilot training and maintenance work increases.

The full history of Scone can be read in Trail 56.

The Best of British and German!

Here’s another guest post from Mitch Peeke.

In the afternoon of the September 30th, 1940; a lone Messerschmitt 109 flew low and slow over Strood, Kent, belching smoke. The pilot, Unteroffizier Ernst Poschenrieder, had been in combat with Spitfires from 222 Squadron whilst escorting bombers to London. Ernst’s squadron had suffered  heavily when the Spitfires pounced. The aircraft he was flying wasn’t even his usual mount. He wasn’t superstitious, but so far this definitely wasn’t his day.

Knowing he would never get back to France and that he was too low to jump, crash-landing on Broom Hill, a hilltop field cultivating vegetables for the war effort, was now his only option. He could see it would be tricky. People were tending the field, but his wounded engine was giving up. To minimise the dangers of a wheels-up landing, he overflew the field and emptied his guns harmlessly into the surrounding treetops.

Unteroffizier Ernst Poschenrieder (courtesy Shoreham Aircraft Museum)

Approaching the tree-line, Ernst throttled back and put the flaps down, losing as much airspeed as possible. The treetops seemed to be trying to grab him as he cut the dying engine; a fire prevention measure. Skimming the trees, the Messerschmitt sank through the last thirty feet of the air and hit the ground violently at 60 MPH, ploughing down the slope. Bucking and bouncing, it tore up the dry soil then broke its back, slewing half-round and stopping just before the trees. He’d made it, just; but the force of the crash had nearly broken Ernst’s back, too.

The farm workers ran to the scene with hoes and forks. Thinking the pilot had tried to machine-gun them, they sought blood; but a young Land Army girl, a Scots lass named Sarah Kortwright, got there first. Standing beside the cockpit, she kept them back. Ernst sat there, ears ringing and in intense pain; and waited. Someone had gone to fetch a Policeman.

PC Jack Matthews (back row, 3rd from right) who later arrested Unteroffizier Ernst Poschenrieder (by kind permission of Mike Hearne)

Sixty-year-old PC 28 Jack Matthews, of the Rochester Police, quickly arrived on the scene. Taking immediate control, he arrested the pilot, for his own protection. Jack was over six feet tall and athletically built. Facing the mob, truncheon in hand, he sternly announced that anyone trying to interfere would be obstructing a Police Officer or having to assault one. The mob lost interest and Ernst was carefully extracted from his cockpit, grateful to be alive.

Ernst’s crashed 109, courtesy Friends of Broomhill

Ernst was taken to Chatham Police station, then immediately to Hospital, for emergency surgery. Thereafter, he was a POW.

He returned to England in 1955, to thank both Sarah Kortwright and the doctor who’d treated him. He traced the hospital doctor, but Sarah had returned to Scotland. Undeterred, he tracked her down and armed with a bouquet of flowers, went to Scotland and took her out to dinner!  In 2005, Ernst visited artist Geoff Nutkins, at the Shoreham Aircraft Museum in Kent, to sign some prints and sketches. Ernst became a frequent visitor to the museum’s events. Sadly, he died in 2009, aged 98. he was killed not by old age; but rather unexpectedly, by a car.

This article was excerpted from a new e-book. 1940: THE BATTLES TO STOP HITLER gives the full story of this and many other events like it, that took place during the time when it seemed that only the French and the British stood in Hitler’s way. Published by Pen & Sword Books Ltd this e-book is available to download at  http://www.pen-and-sword.co.uk/1940-The-Battles-to-Stop-Hitler-ePub/p/11119  priced at £8:00.

A Dogfight That Ended At The Movies.

Another guest post by Mitch Peeke.

Toward the end of the Battle of Britain, Reichsmarschall Herman Goring chose to blame his hitherto beloved fighter pilots for the devastating losses the German bomber squadrons had suffered that summer. He decided that if the fighters couldn’t protect the bombers, then the fighters could carry the bombs to London themselves! On his direct orders, about one third of the Luftwaffe’s fighter force was swiftly converted to carry a single bomb slung under the belly of their Me109’s. Flying at high altitude, these Jagd-Bomber aircraft, or Jabos as they were now called, were then to be heavily escorted by the regular fighters, in an attempt to draw the RAF’s fighters into battle, where they could be annihilated by the superior German numbers. It didn’t matter to the Germans where the bombs fell as the hapless Jabos were simply the bait.

On the morning of Sunday, October 20th 1940, the high-flying Jabos were making daylight attacks on south-east England and London again. They came over in five waves, heavily escorted as per Goring’s orders, from about 09:30 till approximately 14:00. Part of the fighter escort for one of the later raids was provided by 6/JG52, based at Peuplingues, in France and one of the escort pilots from this unit was Oberfeldwebel Albert Friedemann.

The inbound raiders and their escorts had already been fighting their way across Kent when they reached Central London at around 13:35. Having dropped their burdensome bombs, the Jabo pilots could now accelerate to fighting speed and engage the defending RAF fighters on equal terms, though ever with a cautious eye on the fuel gauge.

One of the RAF squadrons sent to deal with these raiders that day was 41 Squadron, up from Hornchurch in Essex. High over the City of London area, 41 Squadron’s Flying Officer Peter Brown in his Spitfire, was in combat with a yellow-nosed Messerschmitt 109, that flown by Friedemann.  During the combat, Brown succeeded in gaining the advantage over his opponent and scored several decisive hits on the nose of Friedemann’s Messerschmitt, which started to belch brownish-black smoke from its now mortally wounded Daimler-Benz engine.

Flying Officer Peter Brown in combat with Oberfeldwebel Albert Friedemann over London on Sunday 20th October 1940.

Flying Officer Peter Brown in combat with Oberfeldwebel Albert Friedemann over London on Sunday 20th October 1940 (Painting by Geoff Nutkins of Shoreham aircraft Museum, by kind permission).

The crippled Messerschmitt began to lose speed and height as it flew over Tower Bridge, crossing the Thames in a roughly East-south-easterly direction, towards Shooters Hill. Brown flew his Spitfire alongside his vanquished foe as the German pilot jettisoned his cockpit canopy and raised himself out of the seat. Having no choice in the matter, Friedemann baled out of his doomed fighter over the Plumstead/Welling area of South London and as it transpired, his exit was not a moment too soon. Seconds after Friedemann had jumped, the Messerschmitt’s fuel tank exploded in mid-air. The time was almost exactly 13:45.

On the ground at Welling, was fifteen year-old Ennis Mowe. Though still at school, Ennis was the sort of girl who hated the fact that she was considered too young to take any active part in the war effort. She badly wanted to “do something” and even though it was she who had done the Lion’s share of the work involved in constructing the family’s Anderson shelter, it simply wasn’t enough for her to be content with; an attitude that had lead to several arguments with her father recently.

Not feeling inclined to enjoy the dubious comforts of the public air-raid shelter in Bellegrove Road that Sunday, Ennis was making her way home, on foot, half-watching the vapour trails of yet another aerial battle that was obviously taking place at altitude over London again. Suddenly, she heard a loud “boom” high above her. Stopping, she quickly looked up in time to see a fireball and a fighter aircraft breaking apart as another fighter turned rapidly away. The tail section of the stricken aeroplane disintegrated, but the front section was coming straight down, dropping like a stone.

A good many people on the ground, including young Ennis, also saw something else falling away from the doomed aircraft, flailing and tumbling through the air as it came down. It was Oberfeldwebel Albert Friedemann, who was now condemned to realise a horrible end to his young life, by the fact that his parachute had failed to open.

The Messerschmitt’s largely intact front section landed with a very loud thud, upside-down in a front garden in Wickham Street, Welling, just across the road from the gate of Gibson’s Farm. The impact forced the Messerschmitt’s undercarriage to spring partially from the wheel-bays. Albert Friedemann fell to his terrifying death a short distance away across the farm, whilst pieces of his Messerschmitt’s tail section fluttered down over a wide area.

The wreck of Oberfeldwebel Albert Friedemann’s Messerschmitt 109 where it fell, opposite Gibson’s Farm in Wickham Street, Welling, on October 20th 1940. The aircraft exploded in mid-air shortly after Friedemann baled out of it following combat with Flying Officer Peter Brown of 41 Squadron. Friedemann fell to his death when his parachute failed to open. The fence in the background is the perimeter fence to the farmhouse garden of Gibson’s Farm, across the road. Photo: Bexley Local Studies and Archive Centre, by kind permission.

Meanwhile, in Wickham Street, there was already a small crowd around the wreckage; the fallen Messerschmitt having miraculously missed the houses. The hot metal of the fighter’s engine was still ticking as it cooled, but there was no fire. The Messerschmitt’s remaining fuel had been burnt off in the mid-air explosion, some twelve thousand feet ago. People seemed to be looking at the vanquished aircraft with a mixture of curiosity and awe, as if it were something from outer space.

The authorities were soon on the scene and gradually the crowd dwindled as the Police sent the sightseers away. Later, the RAF posted a guard over the wreck to prevent any possible souvenir hunting, for the wreck rapidly became a spectator attraction. The authorities quickly removed Albert Friedemann’s shattered and lifeless body from Gibson’s Farm, but the wreck of his aircraft stayed in Welling for another three weeks. Removed from its crash site, it was put on display outside the local cinema and fifteen year-old Ennis Mowe stood proudly beside it nightly, in all weathers, for just over a fortnight. She was collecting donations from the queue of cinema-goers, in aid of the district Spitfire Fund.

This is the site of Oberfeldwebel Albert Friedemann’s crash as it is today. Wickham Street has been widened since the war, but as near as I can place it, the wreck of Friedemann’s Messerschmitt landed roughly where the van is parked, with the propeller hub facing across the road. The entrance to Gibson’s Farm is just to the left of the picture, out of shot, and about ten feet or so toward the camera from the position of the traffic island. Photo: Mitch Peeke.

At the end of each collection, she gave her collecting tin to the cinema manager, who counted the money she’d collected, paid it into the Post Office on her behalf and posted a notice showing the Post Office receipt for the amount raised. Ennis felt proud that she was at last doing her bit for the war effort, while her father simply shook his head in quiet capitulation. However, this episode proved to be just the beginning of a long, long history of young Ennis “doing her bit”.

Following her successful spell of fundraising beside the wreck of Albert Friedemann’s Messerschmitt outside the cinema; Ennis Mowe, in late 1941, blatantly lied about her age, falsely obtained a driving licence, and joined the London Ambulance Service. She soon became Britain’s youngest-ever Ambulance Driver, a fact not realised till long afterwards, when she confessed to her “crime” at her official retirement! Her father had by then long given up the unequal paternal struggle with his fiercely independent daughter. Ennis eventually married, becoming Ennis Smith, and she carried on “doing her bit” in just about every conflict that has involved British servicemen ever since. Her last such activities were based around the organisation and distribution of Christmas parcels to British troops stationed in Bosnia. Throughout her life, Ennis never once allowed her age to be a deterrent to her determination.

OberFeldwebel Albert Friedemann was 26 at the time of his death. His body was interred at the German Military Cemetery in Cannock Chase, Suffolk; there to rest with many of his comrades. Details of his grave can be found using the ‘Find a Grave’ Website.

Flying Officer Peter Brown, the RAF Spitfire pilot who had shot Friedemann down, finished his RAF career as a Squadron Leader. Like Ennis, he went on to a life of helping others. Peter was also a lifelong friend of The Shoreham Aircraft Museum in Kent. He passed away in 2011 and the museum has posted a fine tribute to him, which can be found using the link below.

http://www.shoreham-aircraft-museum.co.uk/news/2011/02/02/remembering-squadron-leader-peter-brown/

by Mitch Peeke

My sincere thanks go to Mitch for this article.

Squadron Leader Emile Fayolle: A Free, French Pilot.

June 1940: Britain’s last remaining European ally, France; was now hors de combat, and the French people began to face the gruelling prospect of an indeterminate period of time in the shadow of the Swastika, under German occupation.

As news of the ignominious armistice and the new collaborationist Vichy government under Marshal Petain spread, there were many brave and defiant French servicemen who refused to acknowledge it. Some went underground, founding the Maquis; the French Resistance movement, whilst quite a number decided to get to England, by any available means, following their chosen leader: Brigadier-General Charles de Gaulle. Once in England, they formed themselves into La France Libre, the Free French Forces, with General de Gaulle as their commanding officer.

One such Frenchman was a nearly 24 year-old, qualified Pilote de Chasse, (fighter pilot) who was then serving overseas in the Armee de l’Air at Oran in French Algeria. He was Sergeant Emile “Francois” Fayolle.

Battle of Britain London Monument - ADJ EFM FAYOLLE

Sgt. Emile “Francois” Fayolle (Photo: © Friends of the Battle of Britain Monument)

Born on 8th September 1916, at Issoire, in Central France, Emile’s father was an Admiral in the French Navy and his Grandfather was none other than Marshal Marie Emile Fayolle, the legendary French Army commander of the First World War. With such ancestry, it was little wonder that Emile refused to acknowledge the humiliating armistice of Compiegne. After much discussion, and despite the warnings of dire consequences from their Station Commander, Emile, his good friend and squadron-mate Francois De Labouchere and two other like-minded pilots, stole two of the station’s aircraft and flew to the British base at Gibraltar. There all four took ship to England, arriving in Liverpool in mid July. Emile Fayolle and his close friend Francois De Labouchere strengthened their already inseparable partnership throughout their RAF training and even made sure they were posted to the same fighter squadron later.

On August 18th 1940, at the height of the Battle of Britain, Emile and Francois were posted to 5 OTU, (Operational Training Unit) at Aston Down. Both men were by now commissioned as Pilot Officers and at 5 OTU, they would be learning to fly and fight with the Hurricane. Pilot Officers Fayolle and De Labouchere would join 85 Squadron, commanded by Squadron Leader Peter Townsend at Church Fenton, on September 13th 1940, flying Hurricanes. They would both soon start making their presence felt with the Luftwaffe.

Emile stayed with 85 Squadron for nearly three months, being posted to 145 Squadron on December 3rd. He stayed with 145 Squadron till April 26th 1941, when he was then posted to Douglas Bader’s 242 Squadron. Although the Battle of Britain was over by then and the German night Blitz on Britain’s major towns and cities had largely petered out, every now and again the Luftwaffe could, and would, still mount a really big raid, such as the one they made on London during the night of May 10th 1941. Exactly one year to the day since they’d started the whole ball rolling by attacking the Low Countries and France, this raid would prove to be pretty much the Luftwaffe’s swansong; their final, despairing fling. Making use of the full moon in a cloudless night sky, the Luftwaffe, in that one night, seemed to drop a month’s worth of bombs and incendiaries on the British Capital. The damage they inflicted was widespread and severe.

It was on this night, during a late evening patrol, that Pilot Officer Emile Fayolle scored his first confirmed ‘kill’. Emile’s victory was one of three that night; all Heinkel 111 bombers and all scored by French pilots. Pilot Officer Demozay of 1 Squadron shot his down over East London, whilst Pilot Officer Scitivaux and Pilot Officer Emile Fayolle, both of whom were serving with 242 Squadron, had their encounters over the London Docks. All three ‘kills’ were confirmed.

On October 14th 1941, Emile was posted to 611 Squadron, flying the Hurri-bomber: a cannon-armed, bomb carrying, fighter-bomber version of the Mk IIc Hurricane. It wasn’t long before he personally took a heavy toll on enemy shipping. Despite being there for only three weeks, Emile seemed to take particularly well to 611 Squadron’s role, becoming something of a specialist in the rather risky art of fast and accurate low-level attacks. He was posted to a very special unit; 340 Squadron, at Turnhouse.

When the RAF formed 340 Squadron, it was the first, all-Free French, squadron. It was formed as part of the Ile de France fighter group and Emile, as well as his great friend Francois de Labouchere, naturally joined the unit. Promotion, as well as confirmed ‘kills’, swiftly followed. As well as the Heinkel 111 he’d shot down on 10th May 1941, he also had confirmed a FW 190 on 3rd May 1942 and a JU88 shot down into the sea on 11th May 1942. His tally of enemy shipping stood at an impressive 25 sunk by then. At the end of July 1942, Emile was further promoted; to the rank of Squadron Leader, and given command of 174 Squadron at Warmwell.

On the Dieppe operation of 19th August 1942, his first one as Commanding Officer, his Hurricane took a hit from defending German anti-aircraft fire after he’d led his squadron of Hurri-bombers fast and low into the attack. His battle-damaged aircraft lost height and crashed in the Channel on the way back to England, not far from Worthing.  Emile was still in the cockpit.

But that is not quite the end of this extraordinary Frenchman’s story. By the strange vagaries of the English Channel’s currents, Emile’s body was eventually washed ashore in his native France. The Germans recovered it and given that he was wearing what remained of the uniform of an RAF Squadron Leader, but with some French insignia, they presumed him to have been a Canadian. Emile’s body had been in the water for some time and was in no real state to be positively identified, so the Germans buried him in a grave marked “Unknown RAF Squadron Leader”.

It wasn’t till 1998, after much laborious research had been done, that Emile finally got a headstone of his own. He is buried at Hautot-sur-Mer (Dieppe Canadian) Cemetery and he is also commemorated on the London Battle of Britain memorial; with all the other gallant countrymen of his who had flown and fought with the RAF in the Battle of Britain. His fighting prowess had earned him a total of four medals, including the DFC and the Croix de Guerre. At the time of his death; the remarkable, Squadron Leader Emile Fayolle, had been just two weeks and six days short of his 26th birthday.

By Mitch Peeke

My thanks to Mitch for this story.

 An Unknown Airman; No longer

A Guest Post by Mitch Peeke.

At 10:30 on the morning of Tuesday 3rd September, over the Kent village of Chart Sutton, near Maidstone, the then usual sounds of cannon and machine gun fire, from yet another dogfight high in the heavens, were heard. Then came the other sound; a high-pitched screaming, as a blazing Hurricane plunged toward the earth out of the summer sky, with a long plume of black smoke marking its descent. Farm workers and others watched in horror; the stricken fighter looked set to crash onto the village school, where classes of local children were in attendance. But at almost the last moment, the doomed fighter was seen to veer sharply away to Port and to then crash in flames on the edge of the apple orchard at nearby Parkhouse Farm. The unfortunate pilot was obviously still at the controls.

The force of the crash was so great that identification of the pilot and aircraft seemed virtually impossible at the time, though in typically British fashion, a sharp-eyed local Police Officer watching the events unfold, had managed to note the aircraft’s serial number and the crash was reported to the Hollingbourne district ARP office. Despite this, it would be another forty-five years before the identity of this self-sacrificing pilot would even be guessed at, and a further five years before it was even remotely confirmed. Until then, he would simply be one of the increasing number of unsung heroes; young pilots who were simply posted as “Missing, presumed Killed In Action” as the Weald of Kent continued to be both a witness to, and a graveyard of, the great aerial struggle that was known as The Battle Of Britain.

Yet what this tiny piece of the huge Battle of Britain jigsaw vividly illustrates, is precisely the reason that this period of our island’s history is so dear to us.

As I said; the identity of the gallant pilot, who had stayed with his blazing aircraft and steered it away from the village school, remained a mystery for years. In 1989, I’d just moved to that area and was intrigued when one Sunday afternoon, I saw a Hurricane and a Spitfire, obviously from the RAF’s Battle of Britain Memorial Flight, performing a display over a nearby farm. My curiosity was of course aroused, as I knew the BBMF do not spare the engine hours of their aircraft lightly; so I asked around locally the following day and started to piece together the story, which ultimately turned into a full page article for the local newspaper, commemorating the 50th anniversary of the battle.

During the course of my research in 1989, I came across the following reports in the Kent County Archive at Maidstone:

Tuesday 3rd September 1940, Hollingbourne District A.R.P. Office: 

10:42.  A British Fighter has crashed in flames on Parkhouse Farm, Chart Sutton. Map reference 21/73.

11:12.  The aircraft is still burning fiercely and its ammunition is now exploding. There is no news of the pilot yet.

I also found out, thanks to the helpful locals, that even then, 49 years on from the crash, there is in fact a memorial to this unknown pilot, very close to where the aircraft crashed. It is a peaceful, beautifully kept garden, with a simple wooden cross bearing the inscription “RAF PILOT 3rd September 1940”. It was above this little memorial garden that the RAF had been performing their display.

The memorial lies hidden in a shady copse beside an apple orchard, on a south-facing slope that overlooks the one of the most beautiful parts of the county: the Weald of Kent. It is only open to the public once a year, and few people outside of the local Royal Air Force Association’s Headcorn branch and the people of Chart Sutton village, know its location. The whole thing, even now, is still a rather private affair between the local people, the RAF and the memory of the fallen pilot.

In 1970, the overgrown crash site was cleared and a formal garden constructed. There has been a memorial service every year at Chart Sutton Church ever since, which is usually followed by a display from either a lone fighter, or a pair of fighters, from the RAF’s Battle of Britain Memorial Flight. Tuesday, 3rd September 1940, is a date that Chart Sutton, and the RAF, have never forgotten.

Despite the fact that a local Police Officer had actually witnessed the crash and managed to log the involved aircraft’s number, confusion arose at the time because two more British fighters crashed in close proximity to the first very soon afterwards; one the next day in fact, at neighbouring Amberfield Farm and one ten days later on 14th September, almost unbelievably at Parkhouse Farm again.

The RAF sent a recovery squad to Chart Sutton on September 26th 1940, to clear the wreckage from all three crash sites. Although a local constabulary report to the RAF cited Hurricane P3782 as having been cleared from Parkhouse Farm, along with the fragmented remains of its pilot, plus the remains of the other pilot who’d crashed there on the 14th, that single piece of seemingly unimportant paper then got buried, lost in the general Police archives for years. It didn’t come to light again till the early to mid-nineteen eighties, probably during a clearout. It was then reproduced in that epic book, “The Battle of Britain Then & Now”.

Meanwhile, the removed remains of both pilots were interred at Sittingbourne & Milton Cemetery, in graves marked “unknown British airman”. The fighter that crashed at Amberfield Farm had left very little in its wake, having gone straight into the ground, so it is easy to see now, how the confusion over the identification of the three pilots subsequently arose, as aircraft crashes in Kent were of course quite commonplace during that long hot summer of 1940.

That was pretty much how things remained, till in 1980 a museum group excavated the site of the second Parkhouse Farm crash. Forty years to the very day since he’d crashed, Sergeant Pilot J.J. Brimble of 73 Squadron and his Hurricane, were exhumed from the Kent soil and positively identified. Also excavated at sometime soon afterwards, was the site of the Amberfield Farm crash, which was then positively identified as being that of Flying Officer Cutts of 222 Squadron, and his Spitfire. This left the last of the three “unknown airmen” and Hurricane P3782, the number from the now rediscovered police report.

Hurricane P3782 belonged to No. l Squadron, whose records show that on 3rd September 1940, it was allocated to Pilot Officer R.H. Shaw. The squadron log posts both Shaw and Hurricane P3782 as: “Missing, failed to return from a standing patrol” on the morning of Tuesday September 3rd 1940.

There can be little doubt now as to whom the Chart Sutton memorial belongs, but as the engine and cockpit of Shaw’s Hurricane are still deeply buried where they fell, there is nothing to base any official identification upon. Despite this, and the fact that the RAF removed what human remains they could find at the time, it has always been regarded locally as the last resting place of this gallant young airman.

Pilot Officer Robert Henry Shaw of 1 Squadron. By kind permission of Winston G. Ramsay, via Mitch Peeke.

Robert Henry Shaw was born on 28th July 1916, in Bolton to a family in the textile Business. He was commissioned as a Pilot Officer in the RAF on February 1st 1940 and posted to 11 Group, Fighter Command. On March 11th, he joined No.1 Squadron in France, as part of the force attempting to stem the German advance. The squadron was withdrawn to Tangmere, in Hampshire just before Dunkerque. It was at this time that Robert was inadvertently shot down by the pilot of another British fighter, who had evidently mistaken Robert’s Hurricane for a Messerschmitt 109. However, Robert managed to land his damaged Hurricane back at Tangmere and was himself unhurt.

I had the pleasure of meeting Robert’s brother when we were introduced to each other at the annual memorial service the year after the local newspaper ran my original story. Unbeknown to me, the paper had traced and contacted Robert’s family. His brother, who was completely unaware that Robert’s memory had been honoured annually in Chart Sutton for the previous nineteen years, travelled down for the 1991 service. At our meeting, he told me that Robert, in connection with the family’s textile business, had been a frequent visitor to Germany before the war and was at first mightily impressed by Hitler’s regime. However, during what turned out to be his final visit in 1937, Robert was witness to a public incident that dispelled any illusions he had formed of Hitler’s new Germany. Robert never did say exactly what it was that he’d witnessed, but though obviously tight of lip, he was decidedly firm of jaw. Robert came straight home and joined the RAF Volunteer Reserve, immediately.

The exact circumstances of Robert’s death have never been established, but it seems likely that he and his flight commander, Flight Lieutenant Hillcoat, probably encountered a pack of “Free hunting” Messerschmitt 109’s; ironically, one of the last such hunting pack operations before Goring unwisely tied his fighters to the bomber formations as a close escort. Robert was by then a seasoned and experienced fighter pilot, but the ensuing dogfight would have been anything but equal. Despite the odds being heavily against them, the pair did not shrink from the fight. Flight Lieutenant Hillcoat was also killed.

Pilot Officer Robert Henry Shaw of 1 Squadron Chart Sutton, Maidstone (photo Mitch Peeke)

The Chart Sutton memorial is the village’s way of honouring that last great courageous deed of Robert’s in steering his blazing and doomed Hurricane away from the village school. It was his final, desperate act of pure self-sacrifice that has justly made twenty-four year-old Pilot Officer Robert H. Shaw an immortal part of that Kent village.

Since I first penned this, some evidence has now emerged in the form of an engine plate that was apparently dug up at the site as long ago as 1987, which has now at last been brought out into the light of day. One is left to wonder just how many such artefacts, souvenired at some point in the past, still lie undiscovered in people’s houses!

My thanks go to Mitch for bringing this story to us.