William R. Lawley Medal Of Honor – RAF Chelveston

Throughout the Second World War, countless airmen pushed themselves beyond the limits of human endurance to save not only their crews, but also their aircraft. Wounded, exhausted, and flying bombers shattered by enemy fire, they somehow found the strength to keep going until the safety of England could be reached.

One such man was First Lieutenant William R. Lawley Jr. of the 364th Bomb Squadron, 305th Bomb Group. On his tenth combat mission from RAF Chelveston, Lawley fought to keep his crippled B-17 Flying Fortress in the air despite severe injuries and the loss of his co-pilot. For his extraordinary courage and determination that day, he was awarded the Medal of Honor, the United States’ highest award for gallantry.

Early Life and Childhood

William Robert Lawley Jr. was born on August 23, 1920 in Leeds, Jefferson County, Alabama, the son of William R. Lawley snr. and Emma Hazelwood.

He grew up in Leeds alongside his brothers and sisters in a close-knit and deeply religious family. A practising Baptist, Lawley regularly attended Leeds Baptist Church with his siblings.

Known as “W.R.” to his friends, Lawley attended Leeds High School, where he pitched for the school baseball team. He was well liked by his classmates and was often seen joking and laughing with friends before and after games. Reflecting on his school days many years later, the principal described him as average in most subjects, “not excelling in any particular subject” and “just one of the boys.” Like many youngsters of the time, he also had a particular fondness for ice cream. *1

Lawley graduated in 1938 and, after a short period of civilian employment, joined the Sinclair Oil Company in 1941. Working as a delivery truck driver, he quickly earned a reputation as a dependable and hardworking employee. His professionalism, calm temperament, and friendly manner led colleagues and managers alike to describe him as a quiet, level-headed, ambitious young American. *2

Joining the Army Air Forces

Like many Americans, the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor in December 1941 inspired Lawley to play his part in the war effort, setting him on a path that would change his life forever.

The following year brought both personal tragedy and new opportunities. While mourning the loss of his mother, he also enlisted for flying training, two events that would profoundly shape his future.

Lawley’s determination and continued work ethic soon paid dividends. In April 1943, while training at Altus Army Airfield, Oklahoma (established in 1942), he earned his pilot’s wings and received his commission as an officer. That same month, on 21 April, he married his sweetheart, Amelia Dodd, making it a period of both professional and personal celebration.

Following further training, Lawley was assigned to an operational crew. In November 1943, he and his fellow airmen were posted to the European Theatre of Operations as part of the 364th Bomb Squadron, 305th Bomb Group, Eighth Air Force, where he would serve as a pilot aboard the Boeing B-17 Flying Fortress.

His father, a former Baptist minister who now served as a volunteer circuit preacher, was immensely proud of his son’s achievements. Following the death of his wife, he remained devoted to William and, when his son served overseas, he carried a photograph of him in his pocket at all times. *3

Flying from RAF Chelveston

Flying the northern route, the 305th Bomb Group had first arrived in England in September 1942, operating initially from RAF Grafton Underwood (Station 106) in north Northamptonshire. In December of that year the group moved to RAF Chelveston (Station 105), where it served under the command of the formidable Colonel Curtis “Iron Ass” LeMay.

By the time Lawley arrived at Chelveston in late 1943, the group had already endured a brutal air war. Casualties had been heavy, experienced crews had been lost, and replacement airmen were urgently needed to maintain operational strength. Lawley was among those sent to reinforce the battle-weary unit.

He was soon flying combat operations, and by February 1944 had completed nine missions. His tenth would make him famous.

On 20 February 1944, more than one thousand aircraft from the First, Second, and Third Bomb Divisions participated in a major offensive against targets in Germany. The 305th Bomb Group, operating as part of the First Bomb Division, was assigned targets at Leipzig, Heiterblick, Abtnaundorf, Bernburg, and Oschersleben. If these could not be attacked, crews were authorised to strike targets of opportunity.

The bomber force crossed the continent before separating to attack their designated objectives, intending to regroup for the long return journey to England. Although weather conditions were poor, Allied fighter escorts succeeded in disrupting many German attacks. For the crew of Lawley’s B-17, however, the mission would become a desperate struggle for survival.

Flying B-17G-30-DL 42-38109, Cabin in the Sky (WF-P), Lawley departed the target area with his bomb load still aboard after frozen release mechanisms prevented it from being dropped. Without warning, the aircraft came under a devastating head-on attack from German fighters. A cannon shell tore into the cockpit, killing co-pilot 2nd Lt. Paul Murphy and severely wounding Lawley in the face.

The assault, launched by approximately twenty enemy fighters, left every surviving crew member wounded and set one of the aircraft’s engines ablaze. The damaged bomber entered a steep dive that appeared uncontrollable. Despite his injuries, Lawley forced the dead co-pilot’s body away from the controls with one hand while fighting to regain command of the aircraft with the other. Blood covered the cockpit, visibility was severely restricted, and freezing air rushed through holes torn in the windscreen.

Fearing an explosion, Lawley ordered the crew to bail out. No one did. Some men were too badly wounded to leave the aircraft, while those still capable of escaping refused to abandon their injured comrades.

As enemy attacks continued, the burning engine was eventually extinguished, only for another engine fire to erupt shortly afterwards. Then came a small but crucial piece of good news. The bombardier succeeded in releasing the jammed bombs, reducing the aircraft’s weight and giving Lawley a better chance of keeping it airborne.

Acutely aware that Lawley was weakening from blood loss and exhaustion, the aircraft’s bombardier Lieutenant Harry Mason, assisted him at the controls. When Lawley eventually collapsed, Mason helped keep the aircraft under control until the wounded pilot recovered sufficiently to resume command.

The crisis was far from over. With two engines disabled, fuel shortages soon created a new danger. Another engine failed, leaving the Flying Fortress struggling to remain airborne on a single functioning engine. Against all odds, the battered aircraft crossed the English coast.

Relief was short-lived. Fire was once again spreading across the wings and the aircraft was rapidly losing altitude. As the crew searched desperately for somewhere to land, the small fighter station, RAF Redhill, came into view.

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

Despite his injuries and exhaustion, Lawley managed to bring the crippled bomber down in a remarkably controlled crash landing. Of the ten men aboard, nine survived and eventually returned to duty. Only Paul Murphy lost his life.*4

For his extraordinary courage, determination, and flying skill, Lawley was awarded the Medal of Honor, the United States’ highest award for gallantry. His citation reading:

For conspicuous gallantry and intrepidity in action above and beyond the call of duty, 20 February 1944, while serving as pilot of a B-17 aircraft on a heavy bombardment mission over enemy-occupied continental Europe. Coming off the target he was attacked by approximately 20 enemy fighters, shot out of formation, and his plane severely crippled. Eight crewmembers were wounded; the co-pilot was killed by a 20-mm shell. One engine was on fire, the controls shot away, and 1st Lt. Lawley seriously and painfully wounded about the face. Forcing the co-pilot’s body off the controls, he brought the plane out of a steep dive, flying with his left hand only. Blood covered the instruments and windshield and visibility was impossible. With a full bomb load the plane was difficult to manoeuvre and the bombs could not be released because the racks were frozen. After the order to bail out had been given, one of the waist gunners informed the pilot that two crewmembers were so severely wounded that it would be impossible for them to bail out. With the fire in the engine spreading, the danger of an explosion was imminent. Because of the helpless condition of his wounded crewmembers 1st Lt. Lawley elected to remain with the ship and bring them to safety if it was humanly possible, giving the other crewmembers the option of bailing out. Enemy fighters again attacked but by using masterful evasive action he managed to lose them. One engine again caught on fire and was extinguished by skilful flying. First Lt. Lawley remained at his post, refusing first aid until he collapsed from sheer exhaustion caused by loss of blood, shock, and the energy he had expended in keeping control of his plane. He was revived by the bombardier and again took over the controls. Coming over the English coast one engine ran out of gasoline and had to be feathered. Another engine started to burn and continued to do so until a successful crash landing was made on a small fighter base. Through his heroism and exceptional flying skill 1st Lt. Lawley rendered outstanding distinguished and valorous service to our nation.

Lawley received his award from Lieutenant General Carl Spaatz at High Wycombe in August 1944.

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

Lawley returned to duty remarkably quickly and, as a First Lieutenant, flew a total of fourteen combat missions before completing his operational tour in June 1944. In September of that year he returned to the United States.

Continued Service

Remaining in military service, Lawley was subsequently assigned as a public relations officer at Hendricks Field Army Airfield near Sebring, Florida, a training base for B-17 and B-24 crews, where he was promoted to Captain.

In January 1945 he completed advanced public relations training at Craig Field, Alabama, and the Air Tactical School at Tyndall Field, Florida. During this period he also served as an aide to General Muir S. Fairchild at Maxwell Field, Alabama.

Lawley’s military career continued to advance. He was later assigned to Headquarters, United States Air Force, in Washington, D.C., serving as an administrative assistant to Major General David M. Schlatter on a special weapons assignment. In August 1949 he was promoted to Major.

As a major, Lawley undertook a series of specialised assignments. He completed courses at the Navy Language School at Fort Myer and the Strategic Intelligence School in Washington, D.C. Following this training, he was posted to Brazil as Assistant Air Attaché, receiving promotion to Lieutenant Colonel and serving there until 1954.

In subsequent years he attended the Air Command and Staff School at Air University, Maxwell Air Force Base, Alabama. Upon graduation he assumed command of the 55th Air Refuelling Squadron at Forbes Air Force Base, Kansas.

Lawley remained on active service for many years, holding a variety of senior appointments at Forbes, including Aircrew Maintenance Staff Officer for the 21st Air Division, Deputy Base Commander, and Deputy Vice Commander of the 815th Combat Support Group.

His final promotion came on 27 March 1959 when he was promoted to Colonel. In January 1963 he became Assistant Phase Chief and Director of Curricular Affairs at the Air War College, Maxwell Air Force Base. After three decades of military service, he retired in 1972.

The Final Chapter

William Robert Lawley Jr. died on 29 May 1999 at Montgomery Hospital, Alabama, aged seventy-eight.

Remembered as a softly spoken, hardworking man with traditional values, he was buried in the Veterans’ Field of Honour, Section 12, Greenwood Cemetery, Montgomery.

His funeral service was held in Chapel No. 2 at Maxwell Air Force Base and was conducted by Colonel Emilio Chaviano. He was survived by his wife of fifty-six years, Amelia “Amy” Lawley, daughters Susan Decker and Anne Sheftic, son William Lawley III, and five grandchildren. *5

RAF Chelveston appears in Trail 66, and RAF Grafton Underwood in Trail 6.

Sources:

*1 “Congressional Medal Winner From Leeds Is Ordinary Boy” The Birmingham News, Birmingham, Alabama, 09 Aug 1944, Wed, Page 10 via newspapers.com website

*2, 3 “Pilots Brings Back Crippled Flying Fortress Safely” Dixon Evening Telegraph, Dixon, Illinois, 3 Jun 1944, Page 8. Via newspaper.com website

*4 Crew of Cabin in the Sky:

Pilot: 1st Lt. William R. Lawley, Jr.
Co-Pilot: 2nd Lt. Paul Murphy (KIA)
Navigator: 2nd Lt. Harry Seraphine
Bombardier: 2nd Lt. Harry Mason
Top Turret/Radio Eng.: SSgt Carroll Rowley
Radio operator: SSgt Thomas Dempsey
Tail Gunner: Sgt. Alfred Wendt,
Ball Turret: TSgt. Joseph Kobierecki,
Waist Gunner: Sgt. Ralph Braswell
Waist Gunner: Sgt Charles J. Spears (Probable)

A surviving crew photograph identifies the aircraft’s second waist gunner as Sgt. Spears. Records from the American Air Museum archive show Charles Joseph Spears serving with the 364th Bomb Squadron, 305th Bomb Group, making it highly likely that he was the crew member shown in the photograph and aboard Cabin in the Sky on 20 February 1944. Definitive confirmation would require a surviving mission loading list or crew roster for the aircraft.

Contemporary crew photographs identify the bombardier as Lt. Harry Mason. The Medal of Honor citation confirms the bombardier revived Lawley after he collapsed.

*5 “Hero: Lawley remained at post until he collapsed from exhaustion”. The Montgomery Advertiser, Montgomery, Alabama, 31 May 1999, Pages 1 and 2. Via newspaper.com website.

Congressional Medal of Honor Society. William R. Lawley Jr. Medal of Honor Citation. Accessed 27 May 2026.

IWM American Archive website Accessed 27 May, 2026

The Hall of Valour Project – William Robert Lawley website. Accessed 28 May 2026

1st Lt. E.S. Michael MOH – RAF Chelveston

Every airfield has its heroes, and RAF Chelveston was no exception. Among the men who flew from the Northamptonshire base was 1st Lt. Edward Stanley Michael of the 364th Bomb Squadron. In April 1944, while flying a mission deep into Germany, he found himself at the centre of one of the most remarkable survival stories of the American air war. Wounded, outnumbered and flying a crippled aircraft, Michael’s determination to bring his crew home would earn him the Medal of Honour and secure his place in the history of RAF Chelveston.
Edward Stanley Michael was born on 2 May 1918 in Chicago to Stanley William Michael and Lillian Harriet Konior. He grew up in an industrial city defined by machinery, manufacturing and hard-edged practicality – an environment that perhaps influenced his early move into skilled technical work. He attended Chicago High School, graduating in 1936, and by 1940, was working as a machinist, a trade that demanded precision and patience in equal measure.

1st Lt. Michael (Wikipedia)

That practical grounding was interrupted by the growing pressures of global conflict. On 2 November 1940, he enlisted as a private in the United States Army Air Corps and was posted to Wheeler Field, Hawaii, where he was present during the Japanese attack of 7 December 1941. In 1942 he was selected for flight training, entering the demanding programme that transformed enlisted airmen into officers and pilots. By April 1943 he had earned his commission as a second lieutenant and completed both multi-engine and B-17 Flying Fortress training in Arizona and Washington State. It was during this period of intense preparation that he married Bertie Lee Parks in October 1943, later naming his B-17 Bertie Lee in her honour.

Serving with the 364th Bomb Squadron of the 305th Bomb Group at RAF Chelveston, Michael took part in numerous combat operations over occupied Europe and Germany. On 11 April 1944, he was piloting the B-17G Bertie Lee (42-37931) as part of a major bombing operation against targets in Germany, including the Focke-Wulf aircraft factory at Sorau. Other objectives for the 341 B-17s of the 1st Bomb Division included Cottbus, Dobberphul, Stettin and Trechel.

As the formation approached its target area, German fighters launched another ferocious frontal assault, a tactic that had proved highly effective against American bomber formations earlier in the air war. Michael’s aircraft, a Douglas-Long Beach B-17G-20-DL Flying Fortress (WF-D), soon became the focus of a determined enemy attack. To the crew, it appeared that the German fighters had singled them out, pressing home repeated assaults despite the presence of Allied escort fighters and the heavy defensive fire from the bomber formation.

The attack devastated the cockpit. Both Michael and his co-pilot, 2nd Lt. Franklin Westberg, were wounded, vital instruments were destroyed, oil coated the windscreen and the aircraft entered a 3,000-foot dive from which survival appeared impossible. With remarkable determination, Michael managed to regain control, only to discover that the bomb bay, still loaded with incendiaries, was on fire. Damage to the release mechanism meant the bombs could not be jettisoned, and the danger of an explosion increased with every passing moment.

The only apparent chance of survival was to bail out, so Michael gave the order. As the crew prepared to leave the aircraft, he was confronted by a horrific sight. Top turret gunner Jewel Philips was holding his injured eye in his hand while blood poured from a severe head wound. Despite his own injuries, Michael administered what aid he could before helping the gunner to the escape hatch. Philips was one of seven crewmen who managed to leave the aircraft.

With the co-pilot and the injured bombardier, Lt. Leiber, still on board, Michael decided that a crash landing offered their only realistic hope. While the crew fought to save the aircraft, the bombardier eventually succeeded in releasing the burning incendiaries. Through a series of violent evasive manoeuvres, Michael shook off the pursuing fighters and finally reached the relative safety of cloud cover.

Emerging from the clouds, the aircraft came under renewed attack from German flak. Michael brought the Fortress down to almost treetop height and headed towards England. Remarkably, the aircraft continued to respond despite the extensive damage it had suffered. They flew on for as long and as far as possible. Miraculously, they reached the English coast, but by now Michael was exhausted from his prolonged efforts and a severe thigh wound. The co-pilot took over, circling the aircraft while Michael recovered enough strength to attempt the landing himself.

With no hydraulics, the ball turret jammed in the lowered position, the undercarriage locked up and the bomb bay doors stuck open, the odds of survival remained heavily stacked against them. Against all odds, Michael retook control and brought Bertie Lee down at RAF Waltham near Grimsby in Lincolnshire, the damaged aircraft crunching and groaning across the grass before finally coming to a halt.

For his extraordinary actions and determination to save both his crew and aircraft, Michael received the Medal of Honour, the second such award made to a member of the 305th Bomb Group.

Bertie Lee after crash-landing at RAF Waltham (IWM UPL 40113)

1st Lt. Michael’s citation read*1:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

After the war, Michael remained in military service, transitioning through the post-war restructuring of American air power and into the newly established United States Air Force. He served in both air transport and operational roles across the United States and the Pacific, attended Air University, and later trained on the B-47 Stratojet during the early Cold War period—an aircraft type that would also become familiar at RAF Chelveston.

Among his many decorations were the Distinguished Flying Cross, Purple Heart and Air Medal with four oak leaf clusters. These, together with a long list of campaign and service awards, reflected a military career that spanned three decades, multiple theatres of operation and the transformation of American air power from the Second World War into the Cold War era. His service ultimately took him to the rank of lieutenant colonel before he retired in 1971 after 30 years in uniform.

Michael later married Louise Erdmann and remained active in military service until his retirement. He died on 19 May 1994 and is buried in Evergreen Cemetery, Springville, Utah County, Utah.

1st Lt. E Michael (kneeling right) with his crew 1943.(US Air Force)

Sources

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

The full story of RAF Chelveston can be read in Trail 66.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Project Clearwater and the End of the Reflex Era

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

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

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

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

From Runways to Renewables: The Final Transformation of Chelveston

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sources and Further Reading (RAF Chelveston)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*9 Missing Air Crew Report (MACR) 15501.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Additional references

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

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

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

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

Airfields of Britain Conservation Trust Website.

Rushden “Hearts & Soles” website accessed 20 September 2025

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

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

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

‘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.

Pilot Officer William Lee Davis

Pilot Officer W. Davis, killed March 1941.

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

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 bombs store 2

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.

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.

Peri track west Side

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.

RAF Sutton Bridge Part 1 – Its Origins and Early Days.

On the windswept Fens bordering Lincolnshire and Norfolk lies a site that shaped the skies of World War II. Far more than a quiet airfield, it was a crucible for pilots from Britain, the Commonwealth, and beyond, where Hurricanes, Spitfires, and Wellingtons soared – and often fell – as young airmen learned the deadly art of aerial warfare.

From rocket-firing trials to emergency landings, from multinational trainees to seasoned instructors, this airfield was a hub of innovation, skill, and courage. Lives were lost, lessons were learned, and generations of aircrew left ready to defend Britain’s skies. Though the airfield has largely returned to nature, its legacy remains – a testament to bravery, determination, and the high stakes of war in the air.

In Trail 3, we revisit the airfield that was RAF Sutton Bridge.

RAF Sutton Bridge

The origins of Sutton Bridge airfield are rooted some 20 years before the start of the Second World War, and largely owes its creation to the Holbeach firing range located in the shallows of the Wash just a stones throw north of the airfield. The range, which is still in operation today, was first supported by the airfield at Sutton Bridge as early as 1926 – a basic airfield from which to base those units using the range.

From Fens to Flying Fields

The airfield itself sits on the edge of the Fens, a flat, open area often referred to as ‘desolate’ and ‘drab’. In winter, certainly the wide open expanses allow winds to blow freely across its dark silt substrate, much of which lay under water for millions of years previously. But this dark open landscape offers prime agricultural and historical prospects, the Romans, Vikings and the Icini people all having made their mark on its dramatic landscape.

The airfield’s roots go back as far as the end of the First World War, the then newly formed RAF was cut back hard, reduced to a mere twenty-five squadrons for both home defence and to protect the commonwealth’s interests abroad. With little need seen for a home based air force, little thought was put into preparing pilots and gunners for any likely future conflict. To keep pilots busy, aerobatics and formation flying took preference over mock dog fights, aerial warfare tactics and ground attack practise.

But by the 1920s, this was not seen as productive and thoughts began to turn to training crews more responsibly, after all, if a pilot cannot engage and defeat his enemy then what use is he? So, a new firing range was sought to train pilots and gunners in the art of ground attack and air-to-air firing. The area required for such a task would need to be away from the public, but easily accessible and coastal, preferably with shallows waters. In 1925, several areas were seen as possible candidates; Catfoss, Donna Nook and an area known as Holbeach Marsh on the Lincolnshire / Norfolk border. After inspection by the Air Ministry, all three were deemed ideal, and so they took control creating three new ranges for the RAF’s use.

To be able to access the range at Holbeach, a nearby airfield was then needed, and being the closest, the former World War 1 site at Tydd St. Mary was given first consideration. However, strong objections from both local landowners and the council jointly, persuaded the military otherwise, and so an alternative had to be found.

The Birth of Sutton Bridge

The Ministry looked further east, nearer to the Wash, and found a small area close to the village of Sutton Bridge on the Lincoln / Norfolk border, about a mile or so from the sea. It would be perfect, and so an area of some 130 acres was obtained through either purchase or lease, allowing, on 1st September 1926, the birth of the soon to be, RAF Sutton Bridge.

The airfield’s main entrance gate and guard house, leading down towards the Mechanical Transport (MT) Shed, Bessonneau hangars and the airfield ground beyond. Visible in the far left background is the new Hinaidi type aircraft hangar built during the 1930s replacing two of the airfield’s original four Bessonneau type aircraft hangars. (source wiki)

Sitting on prime agricultural land, the airfield was hemmed in by both the River Nene along the western boundary and a former LNER railway line (now the A17 road) along the northern boundary. The borders of the two counties, Lincolnshire and Norfolk, cross the airfield resulting in it being divided between the two. The nature of this design though, would later on, lead  to many problems. The airfield being irregular in shape, meant that landing across it – cross-wind east / west – was very difficult if not impossible as there was insufficient room to do so. This would, in itself, restrict the number of days on which flying by trainees could take place, thus forcing them to make difficult cross-wind landings when they did.

In these early days Sutton Bridge would be rudimentary at best, bell tents being the main form of accommodation; only developing as new and longer training courses were needed. More permanent buildings were gradually erected including an Officers’ Mess, permanent accommodation blocks and maintenance workshops.

The 1920s was not a time for major airfield construction though, very few companies had developed or mastered the necessary skills needed for good airfield development. A local business,  Messers Thomson and Sons of Peterborough, were initially brought in, commencing the construction with small roads and tracks, along with four canvas Bessonneau hangars for storage and maintenance. Rudimentary maybe, but it was beginning to take some shape.

Original Entrance

The original entrance today.

Expansion and Identity: Sutton Bridge in the 1930s

The emergence of the ‘expansion period‘ in the 1930s, saw a period of rapid change and development in the military, where the need for airfields and a strong air force was seen as priority. Airfield development now began to improve and new companies, skilled in their design and construction, emerged onto the scene. One of these, “En-Tout-Cas”, in conjunction with other smaller companies, was enlisted to oversee the continued construction of the site at Sutton Bridge. These new and more experienced companies were employed under contract directly with the Air Ministry, using both civilian workers and their equipment, to build not only Sutton Bridge but Catfoss, Lee-on-Solent and Sealand as well *1

On January 1st 1932, the various training sites including Sutton Bridge were given formal titles – Armament Training Camps (ATC) – with each being given a number to distinguish them. Sutton Bridge became known as No. 3 ATC, handling fighter squadrons. Over the next few years it would go through a series of name changes, the first being on 1st April 1938, when it became 3 Armament Training Station (ATS), and then again, a year later, it would close only to reopen under the name of 4 Air Observers School (AOS).

Being better skilled in airfield design and construction, specific buildings for particular tasks were now being added to the work already done, small blocks for administration, maintenance sheds and such like all began to spring up. Being a pre-war construction, all buildings, including accommodation blocks, were placed directly on the airfield site rather than being dispersed as was the norm later on. Dispersals for aircrew were located at different points around the airfield’s perimeter, alongside the aircraft dispersals, and were brick built to protect crews from the heat and cold of the Fen weather.

The early Bell tents and Marquees were gradually replaced with more permanent brick structures arranged neatly in rows alongside the access road. Even with more permanent structures to bed down in, the comforts of a proper bed failed to materialise, instead metal stretchers with sawdust filled wadding for a mattress became the norm. *2

Wartime Growth and Shifting Commands

The runways of which there were three, were initially grass, but as the war progressed these were upgraded to ‘hard’ surfaces using a mix of steel matting, 080 American Planking and 130 Sommerfeld Track; all variants of metal planks that locked together to form a temporary but hard base. A concrete perimeter track was installed and fourteen hardstands were added using a hardcore base with tarmac coverings. In addition, two Bellman hangars, one Aeroplane Repair Section (ARS) Hangar and twelve 69 ft blister hangars were also erected on site. By the time it was established it had become a formidable site.

Sutton Bridge was passed directly to RAF control fourteen days after initial construction began, followed two weeks later by the arrival of the first RAF personnel from RAF Bircham Newton.

In these pre and early war years, the airfield would go through a series of ‘owners’ with 25 (Armament Training Group) under The Flying Training Command taking over in 1937 followed by 12 Group Fighter Command in September 1939 and finally back to The Flying Training Command once again in April 1942. The rapid change of ownership reflecting the many changes that the airfield would go through and the many units that would use its meagre but highly regarded facilities.

All these changes would mean that personnel numbers would fluctuate throughout the war depending upon who was there and what courses were being run, but in general the airfield accommodation could initially cater for 109 Officers, 110 Senior Non-Commissioned Officers and 110 ordinary rank male personnel; WAAFs were also catered for with 6, 12 and 361 respectfully. The fluctuation in staff would also reflect the numbers and types of aircraft on site. It is known that at one point there were no less than ninety Hurricanes plus other trainers along with Spitfires and Wellingtons on the airfield at one time.

For those travelling here on a posting, a train station was conveniently placed across the road from the airfield, getting to and from it was therefore relatively easy as long as the trains were running.

Photograph of the airfield’s main entrance (left) the Mechanical Transport (MT) Shed and on-site airfield road leading down towards four Bessonneau hangars and the airfield ground beyond. (Source via Wiki)

So far we have seen how Sutton Bridge began, how its origins owe its thanks to the range at Holbeach and how over the immediate post war years it developed as an airfield. In Part 2, we progress  through the 1920s and 1930s towards war, during which time, Sutton Bridge shone in the public eye, with pageants and air displays that enthralled the locals.

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

Trail 65 – RAF Thurleigh Part 5 – Development, Research and London’s Third Airport.

Part 4 of this trail saw Thurleigh reach the war’s end and the 306th rise victoriously from early disasters. But, even as the last B-17s roared over the Bedfordshire countryside, the future of Thurleigh was already stirring in whispers and blueprints. The airfield, freshly scarred by the demands of war, seemed poised on the edge of a new era—one that promised to push aircraft faster, higher, and farther than anyone had imagined. Across Britain, minds were turning toward the possibilities of jet power, supersonic flight, and technologies that could transform not just military aviation, but the very way people would travel the skies. Somewhere in these plans, Thurleigh would emerge—not just as a relic of wartime heroism, but as the stage for an ambitious experiment in Britain’s post-war aeronautical future.

Post-War Vision: Thurleigh and the Rise of RAE Bedford

In the immediate post war years, the bulk of what was left after ‘demobbing’, the 306th along with their sister squadron the 305th at Chelveston, moved abroad, the 306th to Geibelstadt, Germany as part of Project ‘Casey jones‘; to photograph 2 million square miles of Europe, Iceland and both north and west Africa. They transferred from base to base, the four squadrons being significantly reduced by the points system, until their final disbandment on Christmas Day, 1946*33.

As the B-17s of the 306th were flying their final missions from Thurleigh, forward-looking minds were already envisioning a future shaped by peace and rapid advancements in aviation. The war had more than proven aviation’s strategic power and hinted at its potential to revolutionise post-war life, particularly through fast and efficient global air travel. The development of the jet engine – pioneered in both Britain and Germany – ushered in a new era where speed and altitude were no longer limited by ‘slow’ piston engines.

With the dawn of the jet age came a fresh frontier: supersonic flight. Many wartime aircraft had already nudged the sound barrier, revealing strange and unpredictable aerodynamic behaviours; behaviours that demanded further study and investigation. This not only posed new scientific challenges, but created huge opportunities for further aviation development. As Britain looked ahead, there was a growing interest into which sites could support such serious, large-scale aeronautical research facilities.

In these closing months of the war, the government recognised that any attempt to carry out this research would require heavy investment in cutting-edge technology. In February 1945, several months before the war’s end, Sir Stafford Cripps, (the new Minister of Aircraft Production), confirmed in the House of Commons that a new national research centre would indeed be created. The question then became where?

The natural choice would have been the already established Royal Aircraft Establishment (RAE), at Farnborough, but it could not expand sufficiently in terms of either its runway, nor its infrastructure, and so an alternative had to be found.

Following a detailed national survey, Bedfordshire was then chosen as the prime location; its gentle rolling landscape and access to several wartime airfields made it an ideal choice. Part of this grand scheme was to create a new independent agency the ‘National Experimental Establishment’, but as time went on, this evolved into the National Aeronautical Establishment (NAE). With its base at Thurleigh, it would eventually be renamed, in 1955, as the Royal Aircraft Establishment Bedford (RAE Bedford).

RAF Thurleigh (as it was still known), with its long wartime runways and open surroundings, was a natural fit. Early thoughts considered it a possible location for a UK test facility to rival the Muroc Field in California’s Mojave Desert (now Edwards Air Force Base). That bold idea involved joining Thurleigh with RAF Twinwood Farm (to the south) and RAF Little Staughton (to the east) via a massive five-mile runway and taxiway, creating one vast experimental complex. However, this ambitious and frankly unrealistic vision was ultimately scaled back, and although some ground work had begun, the full development plan never materialised in this form.

With the idea ‘still on the table’, the programme was pushed ahead, but on a much smaller and by no means less ambitious scale, with both sites at Thurleigh and Twinwood Farm being developed and taking on new roles; both becoming central to Britain’s aviation future.

Development Begins: A New Thurleigh Rises

Development of the new facility was therefore split across the two sites. Firstly, on land near to Milton Ernest, close to the old Twinwood Farm airfield, a network of four powerful, ex Luftwaffe Research Station, wind tunnels were erected. Varying in size and power, each of these would test different aspects of aerodynamic behaviours under different conditions; one for example, measuring 8 feet by 8 feet, could test models in wind speeds up to Mach 5, an unprecedented achievement in post war Britain. *22

Meanwhile, Thurleigh itself was transformed into a highly advanced flight test centre. This required substantial redevelopment of the airfield: buildings were demolished, the  infrastructure overhauled, and some original wartime hangars repurposed – two of these still exist in situ and in use today.

Thurleigh

One of Thurleigh’s wartime hangars (former Aero Flight) still in use today.

Thurleigh’s new runway – measuring 3,400 metres (2.11 miles) long and 97 metres wide, was one of the largest in Europe at the time, and reflected both the size and speed of the aircraft it was going to need to accommodate. Upgraded by the company John Laing, a second runway was also extended reaching over 2,000 metres (1.2 miles) in length, each with a substantial 92 cm*23 of concrete beneath their surface. Even though full development wouldn’t be completed until 1957, the first residents moved in starting their research work as early as 1954.

The work at the new facility, spanned numerous aeronautical fields: aircraft control and handling, blind landing systems, all-weather operations, approach and landing aids, air traffic management, and military vertical take-off and landing systems, which would later culminate in the iconic Harrier jump jet. The site also supported naval aviation research and contributed significantly to the early development of Concorde, contributing to both the aerodynamic and avionic systems of the supersonic airliner.

Throughout the 1950s, the facility’s work was invaluable. The Naval Air Department (NAD) arrived at Thurleigh in mid-1954, formed by merging the Carrier Equipment Department and naval elements of the Aerodynamics Department at Farnborough. Tasked with developing launch and recovery systems for increasingly larger and heavier carrier-based aircraft such as the F-4 Phantom and Blackburn Buccaneer, the NAD’s base was on the northern side of Thurleigh airfield, alongside one of the original unmodified runways of the Second World War. It featured both flush and elevated catapults, arrester gear, a full proving base, and specialist equipment like Catapult Alignment Equipment (CALE) and Jet Blast Deflectors (JBDs). Unique among shore-based facilities, it included a prototype steam catapult system, one that would eventually become standard on naval carriers worldwide. This unique facility also caught the eyes of Britain’s neighbours, being used by the French Navy to test aircraft such as the Étendard and Alizé, highlighting its world-class research and development status.

The NAD operated at Thurleigh until 1970, when it was disbanded following the 1967 Defence White Paper, which ended the Royal Navy’s fixed-wing  aircraft carrier operations. As a consequence, and with little need for fixed wing research, the naval research facility at Thurleigh closed. *24 *25

Not long after the NAD’s arrival though, in 1955, the Flight Division of the Aerodynamics Department – known as ‘Aero Flight’ joined them at Thurleigh. This division was comprised of three sections: Supersonic Flight, Subsonic Flight, and Dynamic Stability Research. They investigated aircraft stability, control, and flying qualities right across the speed spectrum. Over time, their work expanded into vertical take-off and landing systems, flight simulation, and helicopter trials. To achieve these aims, Aero Flight regularly used various aircraft models including the Gloster Meteor, Hawker Hunter, De Havilland Venom, and English Electric Canberra (WT327), (WK163), (WK163), all in the famous ‘Raspberry Ripple’ paint scheme. They also tested purpose-built experimental aircraft such as the Boulton Paul P.111; Avro 707; Short SC1 (XG900, XG905) and SB5; Hunting Jet Flap; Fairey FD2; Hawker P1127 (XP831, XP984) and Handley Page HP115 (XP115), all of which appeared regularly at Thurleigh.*26

The SC1 (XG905) at RAE Bedford

In 1957, a third unit arrived at the site: the Blind Landing Experimental Unit (BLEU) which was originally formed in 1945 to develop early aircraft blind approach systems. Initially tested on De Havilland Devon aircraft, the BLEU progressed to Canberras, going on later to equip many military aircraft, including the ‘V’ bombers, with automatic landing systems – technology now standard on civil airliners worldwide.

Trident Two G-AVFA landing at Thurleigh, March 1968 as part of the testing for the  ILS ‘Triplex’ automatic landing system (FAST) *27

The 1950s and 60s, saw the pinnacle of the Cold War, with countries world Wide placed on a war footing, ready for what seemed to be yet another terrifying conflict. With the RAF’s first ‘Blue Danube’ atomic bomb being delivered to RAF Wittering in 1953, the UK was ready, and able, to retaliate should the need arise. In preparation for such an event, the ‘V’ Force bombers would be dispersed to airfields across the country ready to take off at a moments notice. Thurleigh, with its extensive runway, was earmarked to hold four such aircraft each one sitting on its pan ready for a quick and decisive launch.*28

1960s: The Search for London’s Third Airport and Thurleigh’s Role

Even with the Cold War climbing towards its pinnacle, aviation interests in Thurleigh continued to grow, and by the mid-1960s, Britain was beginning to face the growing pressures of low-cost air travel, and nowhere was this felt more than at its major airports – London Heathrow and Gatwick, which were already struggling to keep up with demand. A White Paper “The Third London Airport” published in May 1967 listed nine possible sites, including Thurleigh, but ruled out many of these due to conflicts with nearby military installations. In response, the government set up the Roskill Commission in 1968, who went on to conduct a detailed two-year investigation into a number of potential sites  all capable of becoming London’s third airport.

The inquiry followed a detailed five-stage process. First, four candidate locations were shortlisted: Foulness in Essex; former RAF Nuthampstead in Hertfordshire; Wing in Buckinghamshire (Clublington) and Thurleigh in Bedfordshire.

Background information on each site was then published, followed by public hearings held near each of the shortlisted locations. These hearings provided an opportunity for local authorities, campaigners, and residents alike to express their views and raise concerns.

Reaction in Bedfordshire – both to the Thurleigh and Wing proposals – was largely unfavourable. Local residents expressed concerns, both verbally and through graffiti – “Not Thurleigh” – about noise, pressure on roads, public services, and the broader environmental impact. County  Councils, including Bedfordshire, opposed the airport plans outright.

In the north of the county, those living around Thurleigh formed the Bedford Airport Resistance Association (BARA) to give local opposition a voice, while in the south, similar resistance was growing against the Wing plan. Yet, not everyone objected. A smaller local group, the Thurleigh Emergency Committee for Democratic Action (TECDA), welcomed the idea, arguing that an airport could boost jobs and bring long-term economic benefits to the area. The resultant hearings all took place during 1969.

Stage Three saw the Commission’s own Research Team gather technical data and examine submissions from expert witnesses and interested parties. This work fed into a comprehensive report, which formed the basis for further discussion in Stage Four. At this point, members of the Commission met with representatives from key organisations – including Bedfordshire County Council, BARA and TECDA – to debate the findings and test individual arguments.

The final stage was a lengthy series of formal hearings – 74 days in all – held at the Piccadilly Hotel in London. Here, all sides presented their evidence, with cross-examinations led by barristers representing the various parties. After the exhaustive process was over, the Commission recommended, by majority vote, that the new airport be built at Wing, accompanied by further plans for an  additional “Airport City.” Only one member disagreed favouring Foulness as the better site.

Ultimately though, Wing was dropped and the government shifted its focus to Maplin Sands, close to Foulness. However, later in 1974, in the face of public pressures, that plan was also abandoned, and attention turned to other pre-existing sites. Luton was briefly considered, but by 1979, the decision was made: Stansted would be developed as London’s third airport, leaving Thurleigh’s long term airport development plans permanently shelved.*29

1970s: Consolidation and Systems Integration at RAE Bedford

Meanwhile at the now renamed RAE Bedford (the airfield no longer under military ownership) the 1970s brought significant organisational changes. In 1974, the various departments were merged to create the Flight Systems Department, bringing together a diverse range of expertise under the one roof. This integration fostered a comprehensive, systems-based approach to aeronautical research and development, moving beyond the previously isolated group of technical fields.

The new department was structured into three core areas: Flight Dynamics (FS1), Operational Systems (FS2), and Common Services (FS6). Collectively, these units covered flight dynamics and control, operational systems & flight management, and flight simulation technology.*30

This broader, interdisciplinary approach allowed RAE Bedford to expand its research across both military and civilian aviation sectors. Employing more modern aircraft – including the Tornado and later the Typhoon – enabled the development of sophisticated radar, tracking, landing, and handling systems. These advancements would shape aviation technology well into the coming decades.

The End of an Era and a New Beginning: Thurleigh in the 1990s and Beyond

By the early 1990s, shifts in defence policy led to a significant reduction in government-funded test flying activities. In 1994, official flying operations at Thurleigh came to an end, and the airfield was officially closed. All ongoing research activities were transferred to Boscombe Down, marking the close of a pivotal chapter in Thurleigh’s aviation history. Despite this closure though, the eastern runway continued to see occasional use by civil aircraft, preserving a faint echo of its once glorious former life.

In 1996, ownership of much of the site changed hands again, with the majority being sold to St. Modwen Properties Ltd, a company specialising in the regeneration of brownfield sites. Meanwhile, a smaller portion of the airfield remained under the control of QinetiQ, the successor to the Ministry of Defence’s Defence Evaluation and Research Agency (DERA), allowing continued military research on advanced defence systems. However, by 2008, QinetiQ too had left, and the once-bustling research complex at Thurleigh gradually fell into disrepair.*31

The Rise of The Phoenix: Thurleigh’s Comeback.

A new chapter in Thurleigh’s long book then began in 1999, when the former Formula 1 driver Jonathan Palmer and his MotorSport Vision Group (MSV), purchased a 384 acre section of the eastern side of the airfield. Palmer went on to design and develop the site into four different circuits utilising 5 miles of original airfield and newly developed track, providing a private circuit for participants to test their skills in high speed racing.*32

A year later, in 2010, marking seventy years since the start of Thurleigh’s crucial role in the Second World War, Thurleigh airfield was re-licensed by the Civil Aviation Authority (CAA) and given the new name Bedford Aerodrome, symbolising a return to aviation.

Whilst the main part of the business is owned and run by Palmer’s Group, civil aviation is permitted and the two projects run alongside each other on this former wartime airfield.

During 2025 the hard runways were out of use until further notice, however, a new grass runway was provided and its use was by arrangement with the operators permission. Helicopter flights continued as usual, so, whilst limited aviation does still continue at Thurleigh, its main operations lay elsewhere. Part of the airfield has since been converted into a business park and its disused runways store considerable quantities of vehicles ready for the open market. A large portion of the perimeter track continues to be utilised by the aforementioned car racing organisation for motor sport activities.

A former small arms building not far from Galsey Wood and the former bomb store, has been converted into a small but excellent 306th Bombardment Group Museum run by local volunteers, and the memorial which once stood in the village, has now been moved and placed outside the museum appropriately on the airfield itself.

Thurleigh

The former small arms building is now a well run museum.

Although no longer a hub of government research, Thurleigh’s legacy now endures as a testament to British aviation history — a site that witnessed both the resilience of wartime efforts and the ambitious technological strides of the post-war jet age.

Throughout this trail we have seen how Thurleigh evolved from a wartime bomber base into a cornerstone of British aviation research and development. During the Second World War, it served as home to the USAAF’s 306th Bomb Group, from where young crews flew dangerous missions – many never to return. The cost was high, and the loss of so many lives remains a poignant part of its story. In the post-war years, the site became part of RAE Bedford, pushing the boundaries of flight technology and innovation. Though official flying ended in 1994, its legacy endures – rooted in sacrifice, resilience, and remarkable achievement.

Today, Thurleigh stands as more than an airfield – it is a testament to the daring spirit of those who dared to fly, build, and innovate. Its story is a mix of triumphs and trials, quiet reinventions, and bold leaps into the unknown – a narrative that continues to echo across its runways.

Thurleigh – 306th BG Museum.

The 306th Museum is located in a former small arms building (building 185) close to the bomb site at Galsey Woods. It can be accessed by following the perimeter track (now road) around from the main entrance to the site through a gate. There is a small amount of free parking available and access is also free.

The museum is run by volunteers, and is well stocked with photos and artefacts pertaining to the 306th and Thurleigh. It was donated by Johnathan Palmer when part of the woods were removed.

Inside are various uniforms, photographs and artefacts, both a home front display, a jeep and a ‘pub’ bar.

Its an excellent little museum and well worth the effort of visiting.  More information can be found by visiting their website.

Thurleigh

One of the displays inside the museum.

Sources and further reading (Thurleigh)

*1 Bedfordshire Archives website. Accessed 7 July 2025.

*2 Bedfordshire Archives website [ref: WW2/AR/CO2/3] Accessed 7 July 2025.

*3 Bedford Aerodrome History website. Accessed 7 July 2025.

*4 Miller, D.L. ” Eighth Air Force” Aurum 2008

*5 Miller, D.L. “ Eighth Air Force” Aurum 2008

*6 Goodrum. A., “School of Aces” Amberley Books 2019.

*7 Miller, D.L. “ Eighth Air Force” Aurum 2008

*8 Freeman. R., “The B-17 Flying Fortress Story“. Arms and Armour. 1998

*9 Freeman, R., “The Mighty Eighth“. Arms and Armour. 1989.

*10 306th BG War Diaries via 306th BG Historical Association website. Accessed 8 July 2025.

*11 MACR 15502 via 306th BG Historical Association website. Accessed 8 July 2025.

*12 MACR via 306th BG Historical Association website. Accessed 8 July 2025.

*13 Mission reports 1943 via 306th BG Historical Association website. Accessed 8 July 2025.

*14 306th Combat war Diary March 1943 via 306th BG Historical Association website. Accessed 9 July 2025.

*15 306th BG Mission Report 17th April, 1943 via 306th BG Historical Association website Accessed 9 July 2025

*16 Mission Report, October 14th 1943 via 306th BG Historical Association Website Accessed 11 July 2025

*17 306th War diaries October 1943, via 306th BG Historical Association Website Accessed 11 July 2025

*18 Bedfordshire Archives [ref: WW2/AR/CO2/3] via website Accessed July 11 2025

*19 Mission Report 24th April 1944, via 306th BG Historical Association website. Accessed 11 July 2025

*20 306th BG War Combat Diaries via 306th BG Historical Association website. Accessed 11 July 2025.

*21 306th BG Mission Report April 1945, via 306th BG Historical Association website. Accessed 18 July 2025.

*22 Farnborough Air Sciences Trust (FAST) website Accessed 19 July 2025

*23 Osbourne, M., “Defending Bedfordshire“. Fonthill Media Ltd, 2021

*24 Bedford Aeronautical Heritage Group website Accessed 19 July 2025

*25 Farnborough Air Sciences Trust (FAST) website Accessed 19 July 2025

*26 Bowles. M., “Work and Play – Tales of an Unremarkable Engineer“. Austin Macauley Publishers Ltd. 2024 Accessed 20 July 2025

*27 Farnborough Air Sciences Trust (FAST) Website Accessed 19 July 2025

*28 Osbourne, M., “Defending Bedfordshire“. Fonthill Media Ltd, 2021

*29 Bedfordshire Archives website Accessed July 19 2025

*30 Farnborough Air Sciences Trust (FAST) website Accessed 19 July 2025

*31 QinetiQ website. Accessed 20 July 2025

*32 Bedford Autodrome accessed 26 July 2025

*33 Boyd, R.J., “Project Casey Jones 1945 – 46” PennState Hazelton Campus Library.

National Archives: AIR 27/1065/1

American Air Museum in Britain Website. Accessed July 2025

Coffey, T., “Decision over Schweinfurt“. Magnum Books 1980

Woodley. C., “Stanstead Airport – Through Time“. Amberley Publishing. 2012. Accessed July 23 2025

National Archives Website .”Roskill Commission on the Third London Airport” Accessed July 23 2025

The Bedford aerodrome website contains extensive material on the current and some historical use of Thurleigh.

The Bedford Aeronautical Heritage Group website (now closed but accessible) contains information about the work and history of RAE Bedford. It has since been moved to the Farnborough Air Services Trust (FAST) website which also offers endless information about the services of both RAE Bedford and RAE Farnborough.

Bedfordshire and Luton Archive and Record Service has an extensive collection of Third London Airport material as part of the Bedfordshire County Council archive which includes material for all four original sites. It also has material from BARA.

PPRuNe forum has information, photos and personal information about the research at both Thurleigh and Twinwood Farm.

Airfields of Britain Conservation Trust website. Accessed 24 July 2025

Trail 65 – RAF Thurleigh Part 4 – A return to Schweinfurt, a Royal visit and the War’s End.

Last time, in Part 3, we followed the 306th Bomb Group through their difficult arrival at Thurleigh, enduring poor conditions, training accidents, and costly missions over occupied Europe. Despite setbacks- including the loss of Captain Paul Adams’s crew – the Group adapted, honed their tactics, and began proving themselves in battle. Now, as 1943 drew on, the challenges only grow sharper: missions stretched deeper into enemy territory, German resistance stiffened, and the winter skies of northern Europe offered no mercy. For the 306th, the coming year would demand courage and endurance on a scale they had never faced before.

Another party of officials along with a squad of Brigadier Generals returned to Thurleigh on July 27th, the event being to present the Congressional Medal of Honour to Sgt. Maynard Smith who, as ball turret gunner, performed admirably on May 1st 1943. The B-17 he was in, had been attacked by three enemy aircraft setting it on fire. Three of the crew baled out leaving Lt. Smith to douse the fire enabling pilot Lt. Johnson to save the aircraft by landing it in south-west England.

As summer gave way to autumn, the toll on men became increasingly evident. The four Groups of the Eighth Air Force that had led the way from the summer of 1942 – the 91st, 303rd, 305th and 306th, were all exhausted and battle weary. Signs of stress and ‘battle fatigue’ were becoming more and more common. Heavy drinking, temporary blindness, shaking, insomnia, nausea, weight loss, horrific nightmares and violent tempers were a mere scratch on the surface of what was being witnessed. The men desperately needed rest, yet reinforcements and replacements were slow to arrive, leaving them to continue missions under increasingly perilous odds.

USAAF personnel on the control tower at Thurleigh airfield [Z50-122-45]

USAAF personnel on the control tower at Thurleigh airfield [ref: Z50/122/45] (Bedfordshire Archives website)

Return to Schweinfurt: The October 14th Massacre

When the mission curtain was drawn back on October 14th, the air in the briefing room must have felt heavy – Schweinfurt. The first trip there after the disastrous mission of August 17th, 1943, which almost caused the collapse of the Eighth Air Force, with the loss of so many aircraft.

In amongst the various crews, those who had experienced that traumatic event cursed and dropped their heads, whilst newcomers struggled to grasp the danger.

Schweinfurt lay deep int heart of the Nazi homeland, almost to the Czechoslovakian border. To get there, formations had to fly 500 miles into enemy territory, a six hour flight of which four were on oxygen and at altitude. Every step of the way was heavily defended by Flak and fighters, the odds of returning dropped like a stone.

The 306th dispatched eighteen aircraft, take off time 10:25 hrs, making a total of 320 aircraft from the 1st, 2nd and 3rd Bombardment Divisions. 196 P-47s would escort, but only just into enemy territory leaving the bombers to fend for themselves in the face of several hundred fierce and deadly accurate 88mm anti-aircraft guns.

The 368th “Eager Beavers” were fortunately for them, rostered ‘off’ that week and so did not take part. The 369th provided seven, the 368th and 423rd the remainder between them.

The mission was to go wrong from the start. Bad weather caused issues with forming up, mechanical problems prevented a full ‘maximum effort’. Groups were lost in thick cloud over England and several become lost and out of formation when they did get to their allocated station. For the 306th, they were able to put up eighteen aircraft, in the high position above the 92nd BG led by Colonel Peaslee.

Once over enemy territory three B-17s of the 306th were forced to return due to mechanical problems, then at around 1:00pm, the escorting P-47s had to leave, and immediately swarms of around 300 Luftwaffe fighters pounced on the bomber stream. Between the Rhine and the target, rockets and bombs were dropped on the bombers many exploding harmlessly in the open, but canon fire from forward attacking fighters, as many as twenty at a time, ripped into the B-17s. One crewman described the scene like a ‘parachute invasion’ with so many chutes being deployed from falling bombers.*16

By the time they had begun the bomb run, the 306th were down to just six aircraft, the 92nd eight – only marginally more than other units. Over the target, the 306th had just five bombers dropping their ordnance, ten were missing all believed shot down. Of those five, four had received heavy damage from flak, canon or rockets leaving only one untouched.

A common site at many airfields across Britain. Thurleigh ambulances await the return of their bombers. (IWM UPL 18748)

The return flight home was thankfully ‘uneventful’, the Luftwaffe fighters concentrating on those bombers still approaching or arriving over the city. But the 306th had been decimated, all but one aircraft having been shot down, returned early, damaged by flak or canon. Estimates afterwards suggest that 75% of Schweinfurt’s ball-bearing industry (which produced 50% of Germany’s total output) had been destroyed. As good as the results were thought to be, Schweinfurt had once again been a slaughter for the Thurleigh men.

The next day the 306th was stood down, there simply wasn’t enough aircraft to put up, it had been another black day indeed for those stationed at Thurleigh.

Words of Recognition, Echoes of Sacrifice

A week later Sir Charles Portal, Air Marshall said in acknowledgement to the efforts of the Eighth, “The U.S. Eighth Air Force has earned for itself during the past weeks a reputation that the Royal Air Force will never forget. The Schweinfurt raid may well go down in history as one of the decisive air actions  of this war, and it may prove to have saved countless lives by depriving the enemy of a great part of his means of resistance.” *17

Into a New Year: Transition and Tension at Thurleigh

As time always does, 1943 merged into 1944 and the war rolled on. Progress in Europe was slow but behind the scenes plans were afoot for the invasion of the continent. With poor weather, flights were limited and as a result January bore witness to just a small number of losses, with almost all aircraft returning safely to base.

On the ground, training continued with a gas training exercise on the base. What was meant to be a safe exercise turned out to be anything but. Driven by the wind, gas was blown over neighbouring fields where farmer Arthur Filsell was working. The gas, needless to say, caused him severe health issues. *18

January’s record was reflected in February, with the 306th achieving a new record for missions – twelve – almost one every two days of the month. It was also the month that saw the death of Lt. Roskovitch, the first airman to achieve his mission quota of twenty-five operations previously. Throughout the month, losses were minimal, but damage from accurate and intense flak was high, with many aircraft returning with extensive damage – such was the strength of the B-17.

As the invasion plans came nearer to their fruition, new records were set again at Thurleigh. The number of operations flown increased from February’s twelve to sixteen, and as an ironic reward, the number of operations in a tour also increased, rising from twenty-five to thirty. With the Luftwaffe noted by their absence, the chances of survival were thought to be increasing.

Shattered Hopes: The Oberpfaffenhofen Disaster

However, the optimism was to bite back not long after. In April 1944, another mission took twenty-five aircraft to Oberpfaffenhoffen in southern Germany, a long route that took them across the German heartland. The twenty-five B-17s were part of a much larger formation of thirteen Combat Wings totalling 524 B-17s and 230 B-24s, that spilt to attack three targets: Leipheim, Gablingen and Oberpfaffenhoffen.

Departing at 09:00 hrs, the 306th’s group, made up of sixteen aircraft in the low group, six in the high and another six as spares, headed to Beachy Head where they formed up and departed to France at 11:00 hrs. Keeping south of Paris they headed to Stuttgart and onto Augsburg. At 12:50 the P-47 escort had to return home reaching the extent of their flying endurance. Immediately, enemy aircraft honed in on the formation strategically attacking the group leaders. A few widely spread Mustangs gave what support they could, but the shear numbers of enemy aircraft simply overwhelmed them.

By 12:35 the full might of the Luftwaffe had been unleashed, and for forty minutes they attacked continuously using a new full frontal wave consisting of between four and eleven fighters at a time. In conjunction, the enemy attacked from both the 2:00 and 11:00 positions splitting the defensive fire-power of the bombers.

Flak was ‘meagre’ but very accurate causing extensive damage to a number of aircraft and bringing one down. Fighter attacks brought down another nine.

The 306th had again been decimated. Almost half of those sent out failed to return, of those that did many had damage and / or casualties. The ‘soft’ targets of early 1944 could no longer be deemed ‘soft’.*19

The Path to Invasion: Record-Breaking in May; D-Day and Beyond

As raids intensified the Groups returned to Berlin, the 306th hitting Berlin no less than four times in May. Another new high was set in both the number of sorties flown, and with the tonnage of bombs dropped. In addition, another new record of twenty operations was set for the month. Despite this, losses were zero, whilst claiming several enemy aircraft shot down or damaged.

On D-Day, 6th June, the 306th supported ground troops as they breached the Normandy beachhead. Bombing howitzer installations inland, road junctions at Caen and Bridges over the River Orne; they encountered a great deal of heavy cloud. With many aircraft resorting to PFF equipment, results were difficult to ascertain. A change in targets mid month then saw the group sent to bomb ‘Noball‘ targets, the “Pilotless planes launching platforms” (V1) in France, but low cloud prevented bombing and all but two aircraft brought their bombs home.

By the end of the month the group were back to Berlin, bombing targets in the city. With another increase in operations, especially in support of D-Day, more records were again broken. A greater tonnage of bombs were dropped in this month than in the first eight months of their tour of operations. In addition, and despite the high records, losses were amongst the lowest in any 30 day period. Post D-Day, the limit of thirty operations was increased yet again to an incredible thirty-five. Even with the increase, many gunners were reported to be nearing the end of their tour, many not having fired at an enemy aircraft as they had been so absent from the combat zone.

A Royal Tribute: The ‘Rose of York‘ Christening

The 6th July 1944, saw a highlight with a royal visit for a special christening. The party included HRH Princess Elizabeth who was here to christen B-17 #42-102547 “Rose of York“. Joining her were King George VI, Queen Elizabeth, Lady Patricia Hambleden (Lady in waiting) and a selection of other Royal Guests and Generals including Lt. General James Doolittle.

Just prior to the dedication taking place, a formation of fifty-two B-17s flew over the airfield marking the occasion. The Princess then broke a bottle of cider over the chin turret and met each member of the crew in turn. After a tour of the airfield and lunch in the mess,  the Royal party departed having made a huge impact on the personnel on the base.

King George VI, Queen Elizabeth, Princess Elizabeth and General James Doolittle, visit the 306th BG in order to christen B-17 “Rose of York” in honour of the Princess. (@IWM FRE 1155)

Accidents and Celebrations: Summer at Thurleigh

With such poor weather dominating the summer months that year, many bombs already fused and live, were brought back home to Thurleigh. These were placed in a distant revetment for safety but on the 30th July, one went off causing a chain reaction that led to twenty-four exploding, shaking the distant windows of the headquarter’s building. No one was hurt in the blast, which saw a huge column of black smoke rise high into the Thurleigh sky. A nearby B-17 was so severely damaged it had to be written off and earmarked for salvage.

A week later, another twenty-four bombs were detonated in a controlled explosion. The location of the ‘dump’, whilst being the safest option, had prevented aircraft from using the taxiway, but now they were all cleared away, the perimeter track was opened and ground movements could operate easily once more.

The 9th September marked the second anniversary of the 306th’s presence in the European Theatre of Operations. To celebrate the day, the entire group was given the day off to watch and enjoy a range of entertainment including a carnival, ball games and music performed by Glenn Miller’s band. Dances were held in the hangar and personnel had the opportunity to view a Ju88, Me109 and FW 190 that had all been captured. The only low point of the day being the sad news of the suicide of Corporal Robert Bickston of the 367th BS.

Chaff, Fog, and Tragedy: Autumn in the Air

By now, the Americans had been using ‘chaff’ for some time, a product like the RAF’s ‘Window’ which utilised strips of metal foil that caused interference and confusion on the enemy radar screens. To test this further and determine exactly what interference it did cause and which method of discharge was the best, crews of the 306th flew to Farnborough to perform  four runs depositing ‘chaff’ from various points in the aircraft. These tests began on September 19th, with the first run dropping no chaff at all, thus giving a base line indication. On the second, it was discharged by the radio operator from his position in the aircraft. On the third, the discharge point was moved to the bomb bay “Razzle Dazzle style” (a more chaotic and less organised style) and on the last run, the chaff  was dropped prior to the aircraft turning onto the bomb-run. Once completed, the data was assimilated and all the results examined. These proved to be “very interesting and informational“.*20

Britain’s weather had long been a challenge for flying operations, and the autumn of 1944 offered no respite. Poor visibility was a constant hazard, often contributing to accidents both in the air and on the ground. While clear skies typically reduced the risk, they were no guarantee of safety. A brief lapse in concentration could, and often did, result in disaster – as the 306th Bomb Group tragically discovered on 22 October 1944.

As the formation made its way back across the North Sea from Hannover, two B-17s from the same squadron collided mid-air. The first, B-17 #44-8099 of the 423rd Bomb Squadron, flown by 1st Lt. Harry Aylea Jr., was in the No. 1 position of the high squadron. Flying nearby in the No. 4 slot was B-17 #43-37976, nicknamed “Suzy”, piloted by Captain Joseph Mathis.

At around 12,000 feet, with a total of 19 airmen on board the two aircraft (ten and nine respectively), the lead bomber began to climb, reducing speed as it did so. Suzy, flying very close beneath, attempted to maintain position – but the gap was too tight. The aircraft collided, sending both into uncontrollable spins. As they fell from the sky, Suzy exploded.

The crash occurred over water, and an immediate air-sea rescue operation was launched to search for survivors. Of the nineteen men aboard, only one was found alive – Staff Sergeant H. Key Jr., the tail gunner from #44-8099. Two bodies were later recovered, but the rest were declared missing in action.

Meanwhile, as the surviving aircraft neared their home bases, the weather over Bedfordshire worsened rapidly. Visibility dropped, and in the poor conditions two returning formations of Chelveston’s 305th Bomb Group – approached from different directions – crossing paths directly over Thurleigh airfield. A collision then followed, with both aircraft exploding on impact and scattering wreckage across the station. Much of the debris fell onto the 367th’s dispersal area. Tragically, there were no survivors and the weather had claimed yet more victims.

Two B-17s of the 305th BG collide over Thurleigh in thick fog. October 22nd, 1944, (IWMFRE 10489)

The poor weather prevented many flights over the following weeks, and so ground talks took up a large portion of aircrew time. Despite this, fourteen missions were carried out, two visually and twelve using PFF with generally good results. To date, some 73,000 hours of flying had taken place and 160 aircraft had been lost to various causes, many along with their crews.

This poor weather continued on almost relentlessly into the last months of the year scrubbing many operations into mainland Europe. But, undaunted, 1945 arrived and 1944 was seen out in style at Thurleigh airfield. Christmas meals were served to those on base, whilst some who had managed to get airborne,  had diverted to other bases forcing them to have their celebrations elsewhere. New Year likewise was celebrated with large quantities of music, food and needless to say drink. Spirits were high, and many personnel were convinced  that the new year would bring an end to what now seemed to be an endless conflict.

The end of the year also signified the end of the inter-base football season. Thurleigh played three matches culminating in a 12-0 victory over fellow teams at Grafton Underwood. On the sports field as in the air, the year had ended with Thurleigh achieving good successes; four wins, two losses and three ties.

Christmas at War: The End of 1944 and the Final Push into 1945

Unbeknown to everyone, including those at Thurleigh, 1945 would indeed see the end of the war. With only five more months to go,  their gut feelings and hopes of peace, were finally coming to fruition.

The beginnings of 1945 saw major movements in Europe on both the eastern and western fronts. The Russians, making huge advances into German held territory, were driving their way into Germany. From the Baltic to the Carpathian Mountains five enormous armies pushed to the banks of the Oder, a mere 40 miles from the German capital Berlin.

Battling the extreme cold weather and constant fog, the western armies were held in the Ardennes facing a strong and determined enemy who were now making a last ditch effort to break through the allied lines. But as the poor weather continued, many flights from UK bases were prevented from occurring and thus dropping much needed supplies to both those on the entrenched front line and those serving behind in hospitals and support services.

But some flights did get away; the 306th managing to play their part by flying 544 sorties in January, attacking mainly enemy communication centres along the front. With low fuel stocks and a high attrition of experienced crews, the Luftwaffe were largely unopposing, so losses for the Thurleigh crews were kept to a minimum.

With the eventual breakout of the Ardennes, the German front began to crumble. The Eighth Air Force and the 306th made a return to Berlin causing further considerable damage to the city, and as the allied forces pushed ever further into Germany, Thurleigh supported the advance with crews hitting numerous strategic targets: oil, communication lines, transportation routes, military camps and jet airfields among many others. With bordering on almost total control of the sky no aircraft were lost by the 306th.

But as the allied forces pushed toward the capital, the U-boat menace remained at large. Submarine pens located along the coast were still in operation and needed eliminating. The problem with these structures was that they were very difficult to not only hit, but to destroy as well, largely due to the incredibly thick reinforced concrete they were constructed of. The RAF and USAAF had tried countless times to destroy these buildings with little success: conventional weapons simply ‘bouncing off’ like ping pong balls.

Secret Weapons: The Disney Bomb Trials

With both the British and Americans carrying out investigations and trials into new and more powerful bombs, the possibility of destroying these bunkers moved slowly closer. It was thought, a British development, the ‘Disney bomb’,  may provide the answer.

The bomb, designed by a Royal Naval Captain, Edward Terrell, was of a long thin design that could be slung beneath a heavy bomber and launched at its target from a high altitude. With added rocket propulsion, the bomb could reach speeds just short of 1,000 mph punching its way through thick concrete into the pen where it would explode destroying the contents  in this case the U-Boat.

Although a British design, the USAAF trialled it between February and April 1945, with the 306th using them for the first time in an operation on March 30th against the Submarine pens near to Farge on the Vesser River. Major Witt led twelve aircraft, (including two PFF)  in two groups of six. Unfortunately, 4/10th cloud cover, forced the lead group into making four passes over the target before they could get a good sighting and thus release their bombs.

Whilst the reports after the raid were good,  little was gained long term from the Disney bombs as they were too difficult to accurately use against such small targets from high altitude, and so the trials ended without any major successes.

B-17 #43-38910 ‘Salvoin Sachem‘ with Disney Bomb on  a Torpedo trailer. The bomb carrier can be seen between the engine and the fuselage. *21

War’s End: Honour, Reflection and the Final Missions

With both east and west fronts meeting up in April 1945, the German war machine effectively collapsed. Doenitz took over after Hitler’s death and Berlin fell into allied hands. The 306th completed fifteen sorties, but no bombings were carried out after the 19th due to potential targets being overrun by the allied forces and so risking ‘friendly fire’ incidents.

After that, the Group essentially stood down. A few leaflets flights were made by the 369th dropping newspaper, propaganda leaflets and other material over Holland, Belgium and Germany.

During May and the last days of the war, these leaflet drops became the norm along with ‘cooks’ tours over Europe. Essentially tours for ground staff, allowing them to see for themselves the damage inflicted on Nazi Germany by the combined heavy bombing of the RAF and USAAF.

When peace was declared and the war finally over, the 306th stood tall. After participating in some of the fiercest air battles of the Second World War, they had come through with great achievements. Tales of heroism were rewarded with two Medals of Honour and Purple Hearts were numerous. The 369th BS had flown an unprecedented forty-two consecutive missions without loss. As a group though, losses had been incurred, and many young and brave men had been lost in the fight against Nazi Germany. Some 177 aircraft had been shot down or lost, and over 730 men had been killed with over 800 more taken prisoner. The 306th had played their part with great courage and sacrifice.

Part 5 takes us beyond the climate of conflict and into the work of research and development. Thurleigh becomes a hub of aviation excellence, the experimentation takes over and a new owner eventually takes control.

The entire history can be read in Trail 65.