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 3 – Early Operations

March 28, 2026March 11, 2026 / Aviationtrails / Leave a comment

In Part 2 we saw how RAF Chelveston opened in August 1941 under RAF Bomber Command’s 2 Group while construction and runway extensions continued to bring the station up to heavy-bomber standards. Early activity centred on training and experimental work, including operations by the Central Gunnery School and airborne trials carried out by the Airborne Forces Experimental Establishment. The arrival of the American 60th Transport Group in mid-1942 introduced the first USAAF presence at the airfield, and although their stay was brief before departing for North Africa, senior Allied visits soon followed, hinting that Chelveston’s role was about to change significantly.

Chelveston Goes to War: Early Operations of the 301st

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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 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.

Trail 65 – RAF Thurleigh Part 2 – The USAAF Arrive.

August 30, 2025September 23, 2025 / Aviationtrails / 6 Comments

In Part 1 we saw how RAF Thurleigh emerged from the Bedfordshire countryside and was shaped by early Luftwaffe raids on the construction site. We saw the arrival of new RAF training units flying Wellington bombers, and their subsequent departure to the far East. We saw how tragedy and fatal accidents claimed the lives of new Polish crews training at the station with 18 OTU, and how with Bomber Command moving on, Thurleigh’s role was set to change dramatically.

A New Ally Arrives: The American Transformation of Thurleigh

At the end of 1941, after the surprise attack on Pearl Harbour, America entered the conflict declaring war on both Japan and Germany and their allies. Over the next few months high ranking officials hurriedly put plans in place to send twenty-eight American bomb groups to the United Kingdom, and the European theatre of war. In a meeting between General Eaker and Air Chief Marshal Arthur Harris, discussions took place that would not only facilitate such a move, but also give the Americans suitable airfields on which to house their new heavy bombers.

Aware that most British airfields were too small to accommodate the American’s heavy bomber units, Eaker went on to press Harris for specific details including both their locations and the facilities available at each one. Anticipating this, Harris handed over the identity of eight potential sites, many of them RAF satellite stations, but all suitable for the American’s use. Amongst these were the airfields at Polebrook, Chelveston, Molesworth, Kimbolton, and of course Thurleigh.

Initially designated Station B-4, Thurleigh would then undergo a major modification programme, one that would bring it up to the new Class ‘A’ standard, a specification that would make it suitable for the American heavy bombers, both the B-24 ‘Liberator’ and the B-17 ‘Flying Fortresses’ that Eaker was sending over.

One of the former arms buildings.

Construction crews quickly began work, both extending and reinforcing the short runways; they added additional hardstands, and expanded both the technical and domestic sites. Upon completion, the airfield would feature three concrete runways: one of 2,000 feet and two of 1,400 feet in length, each being the standard 50 yards wide. Aircraft dispersal was facilitated by a total of 51 loop and frying-pan style hardstands arranged around a full length perimeter track.

In addition, and unusually, four T2 hangars were erected, providing protective aircraft shelter and maintenance facilities. The bomb store was discreetly placed in Galsey Wood, a wooded area to the northwest and away from the main flying and accommodation areas – an essential safety precaution in wartime.

Fifteen accommodation sites, including two communal areas, two WAAF quarters, medical facilities, and barrack blocks, were all established along the road leading away from Thurleigh village to the south-west of the airfield. These sites employed a variety of wartime construction styles – brick, timber, concrete, steel, asbestos, and plasterboard – using standard designs from Laing, Nissen, Seco, Jane, Romney, and others. At full capacity, the base would accommodate over 440 officers and more than 2,500 enlisted personnel, including members of the Women’s Auxiliary Air Force.

After being allocated to the Americans on August 10th 1942, Thurleigh opened with its first residents. On 7th September that year, the first and only front line bomber Group to operate from the airfield, the 306th Bomb Group (BG), arrived with its four squadrons of B-17s: the 367th, 368th, 369th and 423rd Bomb Squadrons (BS). In command would be Col. Charles B. “Chip” Overcracker.

**The 306th Bomb Group: Arrival of “The Reich Wreckers” (Autumn 1942)**

Known as “The Reich Wreckers” the 306th would have many claims to fame, including being the oldest operational Bomb Group in the 8th Air Force and the only one to remain at the same station (Thurleigh) in England for the longest period of time. In addition, they were the first unit to have personnel achieve their first tour of operations, a major mile stone that gave the whole air force hope that going home was indeed possible.

A graffiti panel rescued from a 423rd BS barrack now on display at the museum.

The Group, designated the 306th, were constituted on January 28th 1942, and activated in March that same year. Their journey to the UK began at Gowen Field in Idaho, transferring through Wendover Field to their embarkation point at New York onboard HMS Queen Elizabeth. The ground echelon set sale, travelling across the treacherous north Atlantic route to arrive at Greenock in Scotland, on September 5th, 1942.

The air echelon travelled separately, arriving a week later in small groups touching down at Thurleigh between the 8th and 13th September, having flown their own thirty-five aircraft across the northern route. This cold and bleak route took them via Greenland and Iceland, before passing over northern Ireland to arrive at Prestwick in Scotland on the north-west coast. During the journey over, one B-17F, with a crew of nine and one passenger, exploded for no apparent reason, 150 miles from Gander Lake, Newfoundland. A second aircraft also ditched in the Irish Sea. The crew in this instance were picked up, but the aircraft was lost in the cold waters of the North Atlantic. This was the third B-17 the group had lost since their inauguration.

The 306th would go on to fight in some of the most bitter air battles of the war, including Schweinfurt, Stuttgart, Hannover, Berlin, Ludwigshafen and Leipzig. They would lead the first US bomber penetration of German skies; Big Week in February 1944, and go on to support both the Normandy landings and the St. Lo breakout. They would remain active throughout the war achieving numerous awards including two Medals of Honour, numerous Purple Hearts and two Distinguished Unit Citations (DUC) for action over occupied Europe.

Their arrival at Thurleigh was not however the great dream they may have wished for. On unloading, the 306th were greeted by unfinished buildings and mud – lots of it. Tents immediately formed the basis of personnel accommodation and the officers’ mess was so small, staff had to operate in three shifts to enable them all to get fed.

Not only was a considerable amount of work needing to be done to get the station ready, but being new to the European theatre, a huge amount of ‘up-skilling’ was also going to be needed. To this end, intelligence staff, operations controllers and flight controllers were all sent to RAF stations to learn the ‘tricks of the trade’ enabling them to operate alongside their British counterparts in what was about to become a very busy airspace.

Baptism by Fire: First Operations and Early Losses

This poor start was then compounded when on October 2nd 1942, during a practice mission over the Wash, one of the waist gunners of B-17 #41-24492 ‘Lady Halitosis‘ of the 367th BS, suffered oxygen failure. In a bid to help the gunner, the pilot put the aircraft into a steep dive losing some 9,000 feet of altitude in a matter of minutes. The dive and subsequent recovery was so severe that the aircraft’s control cables snapped, and part of the starboard wing broke away taking an engine with it. The aircraft then caught fire and the bomb bay doors became detached. One of these doors, struck the rear section of the aircraft with such force that it severed the fuselage at the tail. The rear gunner, trapped inside his position, desperately tried to escape, hammering at the plexiglass and fuselage to break out. With only a 1,000 feet of air left, he just managed to break through the fuselage and free himself from his falling coffin. His parachute luckily opened, and he landed safely some distance away south-east of Spalding in Lincolnshire. His luck, already used exhaustively, somehow managed to continue on for a few moments more, when the remainder of the burning B-17 came crashing down a mere one hundred yards or so from where he was sat.

Rescue crews from a nearby anti-aircraft gun ran to the scene but they were unable to get close enough to the wreckage due the the ferocity of the fire, and sadly, all six of those left inside, perished. During the whole episode only one other crewman managed to escape – Ball Turret Gunner Private Raymond McAskill – suffering slight injuries as he did so.

The event was so understandably harrowing for gunner S.Sgt. William Kellum, that he was eventually grounded, his mental state rendering him ‘unfit’ to continue on after having only carried out a few missions following his horrific flight debut in England.

With this disaster behind them, the 306th took to the air once more on their maiden operation on October 9th 1942, an operation to bomb the steel works at Lille, France. But again, it was not to be the glorious outcome they all would have wished for.

For the first time, over 100 American bombers, a mix of B-24s and B-17s, led by the soon to be legendary Col. Edward “Ted” Timberlake, flew across the English Channel to France. The huge formation, escorted by over 400 fighters, a mix of Spitfires – now part of the 4th Fighter Group – and P-38 “Lightnings”, knew how important this mission was going to be.

Waiting for them were the battle hardened Luftwaffe pilots of JG 26 in their FW190s, they were not going to let the bombers through easily and the sky would be full.

With departure planned for 08:32, the lumbering giants gradually rose in to the air and set route for France.

As the bombers reached the target, the Luftwaffe struck, focussing initially on the B-24s of 93rd BG. Attacking from their favoured position, the rear, they struck at the formation ignoring the fighters flying high above. Releasing over the target, bombing was considered poor, some bomb aimers not even finding the target and so dropping their bombs on alternative sites. During the action, the formation had become disjointed, partly due to some turning back with technical problems and partly to some being knocked out by enemy fighters – the defensive wall had been breached.

As for the 306th, a second aircraft was lost, and this time there were no survivors. A third B-17, #41-24486 “Man O’ War” piloted by 2nd. Lt. James M. Stewart, lost three engines and its radio failed. It was about to ditch in the English Channel, when – as if out of a boy’s action story – a Spitfire, flown by Flt. Lt. Andrews of 91 Sqn, appeared alongside and guided the B-17 to RAF Manston in Kent where it made a successful crash landing. None of the crew were injured in the event, saved no doubt by the actions of Flt. Lt. Andrews.

Inexperience played a large part for many of the crews taking part that day. Being new to operational duties, not only had they suffered poor aiming but gunners had made hugely exaggerated claims about the numbers of enemy aircraft shot down – although probably unknowingly to them. In reply to the frenzied attack on the formation, air gunners sprayed bullets all over the sky hitting everything except the enemy. A mix of poor training and a determination to prove their worth, had been a recipe for disaster.

One of several buildings on the bomb store.

Not only was the bomb aiming poor but so was the navigation. Many navigators, like the gunners, were simply not experienced enough, nor trained well enough for the European geography. With thick cloud being present almost all of the time, many new crews were unable to identify specific geographical features and were simply lost within 10 minutes of leaving their home base.*⁴

During this initial operation experienced enemy fighters were both fearsome and determined in their attacks. Whilst few bombers were actually shot down, all of those in the lagging 306th received hits from the FW-190s – some severely. The opening few weeks had been a real eye opener for the 306th, an experience resembling a baptism of fire not only for those newbies the “The Reich Wreckers“, but for the Eighth Air Force as a whole.

Weather, Warnings, and Misfires: October’s Frustrating Missions

The British winter weather then intervened. Several operations were cancelled as were training flights which were greatly needed. A cancelled flight to Lorient on October 21st, merely two weeks after their first operation, meant that the entire 306th returned without dropping a single bomb. The declining weather and poor visibility was to blame, but some ninety aircraft did continue on, and of those who did bomb, their bombs simply “bounced off” the submarine pens, having no impact whatsoever. *⁵

Aircrews were learning that operations over enemy territory were high risk, but even scrubbed missions could have their problems: aircraft still had tanks full of petrol and bomb-bays were still filled with tons of high explosives. For the 306th, troubles on this mission began even before they had left British airspace. When the abort signal came through, it instructed crews to drop their ordnance in the Wash – a large body of shallow coastal water off the north Norfolk coast. Whilst it became a common practice for scrubbed missions, for one B-17 it was not going to be a simple or straight forward task.

Emergency Landing: A B-17 Touches Down at Sutton Bridge

B-17F, #41-24460 ‘RD-A’, “Little Audrey” of the 423 BS, began the process of releasing its bombs when suddenly the life raft latch broke loose causing the raft to escape and wrap itself around the elevator rendering the aircraft difficult to control.

Captain Mack McKay, 306th BG points to a “kill” marking painted on his B-17 Flying Fortress “Little Audrey” (IWM FRE 4418)

Now being unstable in flight, the B-17 had to find a safe place to land, and near to the Wash was the firing range at Holbeach and its associated airfield at RAF Sutton Bridge. A physically small grass airfield that was used for gunnery training of RAF fighters, it was not designed to take large four-engined heavy bombers. The likely hood of getting down safely was slim, but after using all his skill and judgement, the pilot managed to put the bomber down safely on the grass much to the joy of those inside the bomber. Once remedial work had been carried out on the aircraft, the crew began to prepare for the take off, an event just as risky as the landing and with odds just as bad.

Being an unusual aircraft to see at Sutton Bridge, huge crowds gathered to see the B-17 and to witness what could have been a terrible accident had the take off been misjudged on the small grass strip. Fortunately though, again using all his skill and judgement, the pilot got the aircraft up and the B-17 successfully rose in to the air making its way home to Thurleigh being waved off by the extensive crowd of locals gathered by. *⁶

Mounting Pressure: Heavy Losses and Royal Visits

The early days of November 1942, saw missions 3, 4 and 5 for the 306th. Visits to Brest, Lille and St. Nazaire, saw a further four aircraft lost with all crews listed as ‘missing in action’. These early loses were beginning to mount, and those in charge were beginning to voice their concerns.

On November 13th, a Royal visit was made in which General Carl Spaatz and King George VI carried out a tour of the many airfields now in the region, including Thurleigh. Whilst the Royal party were here, they were shown around the airfield, seeing the various facilities available. They were also introduced to several crews and ground staff with whom they chatted happily.

Brigadier-General Newton Longfellow and Lieutenant Robert L Riordan of the 306th Bomb Group, show King George VI part of a damaged B-17 Flying Fortress during a royal visit. (IWM FRE 4390)

The B-17’s Fatal Flaw – and its Remedy

But the relief brought by important visitors didn’t prevent problems in the air. By now, the Luftwaffe had got the measure the of the B-17 and pilots, such as Oberstleutant Egon Mayer, quickly found its Achilles heel. Even though bristling with guns, the B-17s suffered from ‘blind spots’, areas where the gun’s arc didn’t cover. This made the bomber vulnerable, and the worst position was through a direct full frontal attack. New tactics were then used by the Luftwaffe, directing fire directly at the front of the aircraft, potentially its most vulnerable position. It became so successful, that some 30% of pilots and co-pilots in the 306th were killed in such attacks.*⁷ With little protection, early model B-17Es were quickly withdrawn from front line operations and investigations carried out into a possible remedy to the problem.*⁸

Naturally the B-17 crews realised this vulnerability too, and also set about finding their own remedy. Whilst official routes were being taken to solve the problem, these were taking too long, and a quicker solution was needed. Within the 367th BS an armourer and a welder (S. Sgts. James C. Green and Ben F. Marcilonis) got together and took matters into their own hands. They designed and built a new bracket that could hold a heavy .50 machine gun fitted into the nose of the aircraft to protect this gap in the forward arc. Once constructed and fitted, trials began, the ‘guinea pig’ being a B-17F #42-5130 named “Sweet Pea“.

The bracket fitted to Sweet Pea, proved to be so successful that it was adopted not only by the 306th but the 8th Air Service Command as a whole*⁹ becoming part of a modification feature to future B-17 models.

The aircraft was unusual for other reasons though. It was ‘christened’ on December 20th 1942, by a small orphan girl called ‘Maureen’ whom the 367th BS had adopted from a London orphanage. They gave her the nickname ‘Sweet Pea‘ and to mark the occasion, she dipped her hand in paint and placed a print on the aircraft as a form of dedication.. Like many aircraft of the ‘Reich Wreckers’, Sweet Pea would fly on several operations, suffering a great deal of damage in the process; eventually failing to return from operations to Lorient on March 6th 1943, with one airman killed in action, one evading and eight being taken prisoners of war.

The news report on the dedication of ‘Sweet Pea‘ by Maureen – a three year-old orphan – at Thurleigh. (IWM UPL 15963)

Thurleigh had transformed from a training airfield into a heavy bomber base ready for its new American role. Upgraded to Class “A” standard it soon became home to the 306th Bomb Group – “The Reich Wreckers.” Their arrival in September 1942 was far from smooth though: unfinished buildings, muddy conditions, and a steep learning curve in the European theatre made for a difficult start. Early missions brought tragedy, from training accidents to heavy combat losses, while poor weather and inexperience compounded their struggles. Yet alongside setbacks came resilience, adaptation, and even innovation, as crews refined tactics and strengthened their aircraft. With these foundations laid, the stage was set for the 306th to face the increasingly bitter air battles of 1943.

The entire history can be read in Trail 65

Trail 65 – RAF Thurleigh Part 1 – Its Birth.

August 23, 2025September 4, 2025 / Aviationtrails / 4 Comments

In Trail 65 we head west again this time to the borders of Bedfordshire and Northampton, where a former wartime airfield evolved from a base for USAAF bombers into a centre of aviation excellence. First built during the Second World War, it supported critical missions over occupied Europe. In the post-war years, it transitioned into a leading site for aeronautical research, contributing to major advances in jet technology, carrier operations, and automated landing systems. Although official flying ended in 1994, the site continued to reflect a remarkable legacy, marking its place in history as a cornerstone of Britain’s military and civil aviation development.

In this trail, we go back to Bedfordshire and the former RAF Thurleigh.

RAF Thurleigh (Station 111)

Situated some 6.5 miles north of Bedford, RAF Thurleigh was built on land approximately 250 feet above sea level. Although not a high elevation, its open plateau setting – typical of many wartime airfields – exposed it to the elements. Surrounded by multiple river sources, the location benefited from good natural drainage, aiding its suitability as an airfield site.

The nearby village of Thurleigh has a long recorded history, appearing in the Domesday Book as La Lega*¹ – a name that over centuries, has evolved into its current form. In a similar fashion, the airfield that bears the same name, would come to be known under many titles of its own: RAF Thurleigh, USAAF Station 111, RAE Bedford, Bedford Aerodrome, and Thurleigh Airfield Business Park amongst others. Yet throughout its history, one theme remained constant – aviation.

The War Reaches Bedfordshire: Early Bombings and Construction (1941)

Thurleigh’s association with the Second World War began even before construction commenced. Isolated bombing incidents in the parish during 1941 – possibly the result of jettisoned bombs from German aircraft – marked its early wartime experience. Once the airfield’s construction began however, it quickly caught the attention of the Luftwaffe. On 17th April that year, eight enemy bombs were dropped directly onto the construction site, causing damage to the incomplete runway. A second attack on 12th August 1941 saw another eight bombs fall along the northern boundary, again damaging the airfield and rupturing a water main*². Both raids highlighted how conspicuous such developments were to enemy reconnaissance and subsequent aerial attacks.

Once land had been sourced, the airfield’s construction was carried out by the company W.C. French Ltd. and officially opened during the summer of 1941. At this early stage, Thurleigh was a modest airfield in size, suited only for fighters or light to medium bombers. Its first operational residents were the personnel from No. 18 Operational Training Unit (OTU), part of the RAF’s Bomber Command. Having recently adopted the twin-engined Vickers Wellington, 18 OTU (formed from the Polish Training Unit in No. 6 Group, in June 1940 to train light bomber crews for Polish operational squadrons) was tasked with preparing new crews transitioning onto bombers ready for active duty.

Though OTUs were primarily training units, they often found themselves involved in operational sorties, especially during periods of ‘maximum effort’. As a result, many crews suffered casualties, even before they joined a front-line operational squadron.

Following them, in October 1941, 12 Operational Training Unit – first formed at RAF Benson in April 1940 – briefly stayed here. Their residency lasting a mere month, it remains unclear whether it was the entire unit, or just detachments that were present here during that time. It was also at this time that the first recorded aircraft landing took place at Thurleigh: Wellington IC R1234*³ touching down on the new runway, marking a small but important milestone in the station’s dramatic history.

12 OTU Were not the only training unit to reside here. The Central Gunnery School (CGS), famed for “training the trainers” remained here from December 1941 until their departure to RAF Sutton Bridge on the Lincolnshire / Norfolk border in April 1942.

First established at RAF Warmwell on 6th November 1939, the CGS would train both gunners of bombers and fighters in the art of aerial warfare, those attending having proven themselves in combat already. Once trained, they would return to their original squadrons and pass on their valuable knowledge to others.

Tropical Kit and Tragedy: The Brief Story of 160 Squadron (1942)

Thurleigh’s relative quiet made it an ideal location to raise a new unit, and on January 16th 1942, the ground echelon of 160 Squadron RAF, formed here. Created as a Consolidated B-24 Liberator unit under War Establishment order WAR/ME/448 (dated 31st December 1941), the squadron’s formation began with the arrival of 108 airmen, who were followed by a further 126 the very next day. Over the following weeks, the numbers of ground crew and support staff swelled, as it did, each one was issued with tropical kit, a move that suggested a deployment to the Far East.

Throughout the weeks that followed, the air echelon underwent heavy bomber training some with 1653 Heavy Conversion Unit at RAF Polebrook, while other crew members were sent to RAF Upwood for additional preparation. In mid-February, the posting finally came through and the ground party departed enroute to the Far East. Meanwhile, the air crews transferred to RAF Lyneham in Wiltshire, where they collected their new B-24s before they too left for the Far east.

Tragedy and Transition – May 1942

The now quieter Thurleigh would then experience a series of tragic accidents. On 18th May 1942, Wellington IC DV783, flown by a Polish crew led by Pilot Officer J. Kilmcsyk, crashed shortly after taking off. Just moments after departing the runway, the aircraft suddenly, and without warning, dived into the ground; the ensuing fireball killing all five crew members onboard. The Wellington, along with the crew’s bodies, was later recovered and the airmen interned in the Polish War Graves section of Newark cemetery in Nottinghamshire.

This was the second fatal crash suffered by the unit in as many days, a tragedy that was compounded by another such incident the following day – although mercifully this time, there would be no fatalities.

Not long after this short but devastating period, 18 OTU departed Thurleigh, a move that signified the end of its ties, as a training airfield, with Bomber Command. For the remainder of the war, there would be no further front line, RAF units assigned here, and attention now turned to its new owner, the United States Army Air Forces.

In Part 2, we continue our journey through Thurleigh’s wartime history. We see the arrival of the USAAF, and share their experiences both good and bad. We learn of the failures of the B-17 and how through innovation they overcome these problems becoming one of the most successful bomb groups of the war.

The full story of RAF Thurleigh can be. read in Trail 65.

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

May 31, 2025February 17, 2025 / Aviationtrails / 2 Comments

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.

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.

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RAF Chelveston (Station 105).

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The Birth of 6 Operational Training Unit

Training for War: Sutton Bridge under the Spotlight

Training at a Cost: Accidents and Fatalities at 6 OTU

Instructors of Note: The Arrival of Bill Waterton

Foreign Trainees and the Cost of Speed

From 6 OTU to 56 OTU: A New Chapter

A New Spirit: The RAF and Its American Volunteers

The First American Loss: Pilot Officer William Davis

The Eagles Gather

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Defiants, Battles, and the Harsh Winter of 1939

From Battles to Spitfires: The Transformation of 266 Squadron

An Airfield Without a Squadron: Sutton Bridge in Transition

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

From Experiment to Establishment: Sutton Bridge in the 1930s

Pageantry and Public Spectacle

From Biplanes to Monoplanes: Trials at Sutton Bridge

The Shadow of War: Sutton Bridge in 1939

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A New Ally Arrives: The American Transformation of Thurleigh

The 306th Bomb Group: Arrival of “The Reich Wreckers” (Autumn 1942)

Baptism by Fire: First Operations and Early Losses

Weather, Warnings, and Misfires: October’s Frustrating Missions

Emergency Landing: A B-17 Touches Down at Sutton Bridge

Mounting Pressure: Heavy Losses and Royal Visits

The B-17’s Fatal Flaw – and its Remedy

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RAF Thurleigh (Station 111)

The War Reaches Bedfordshire: Early Bombings and Construction (1941)

Tropical Kit and Tragedy: The Brief Story of 160 Squadron (1942)

Tragedy and Transition – May 1942

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**The 306th Bomb Group: Arrival of “The Reich Wreckers” (Autumn 1942)**