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

May 9, 2026March 11, 2026 / Aviationtrails / 2 Comments

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 8 – A new Chapter Begins

May 2, 2026March 11, 2026 / Aviationtrails / 8 Comments

Throughout Part 7 the 305th Bomb Group continued to demonstrate extraordinary courage, with crews surviving horrific damage to their B-17s and earning multiple Medals of Honour for their heroism. By the final months of the war in Europe, they had flown 337 combat missions, dropped over 22,000 tons of bombs, and contributed to both strategic bombing and propaganda efforts. After Germany’s defeat, the group returned to the United States, later reactivating briefly in 1947, 1951, and 1994, leaving a lasting legacy as the “Can-Do Wing.”

From Wartime Urgency to Cold War Necessity

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

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

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

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

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

From Wartime Relic to Strategic Stronghold

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

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

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

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

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

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

From Stratojets to Silence

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

As the story of Chelveston draws to a close IRBMs take centre stage, reshaping the balance of power and casting a long shadow over airfield. As these new weapons promise unprecedented reach and destructive potential, the once-bustling bomber base faces an uncertain future. What would become of Chelveston in this rapidly changing landscape – an abandoned relic, secret stronghold, or something else entirely? The final chapter will reveal a story few could have predicted.

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

Trail 66 – RAF Chelveston – Part 7 – 2 Medals of Honour

April 25, 2026March 11, 2026 / Aviationtrails / 4 Comments

In Part 6, the 305th Bomb Group faced some of the most intense and costly operations of the war, including record-setting large formations and the brutal Schweinfurt raids, which inflicted heavy losses on the group. Crews endured extreme physical and mental strain, yet displayed remarkable heroism, earning multiple medals and citations while innovating new tactics and night operations. By late 1943 and early 1944, the group began to benefit from improved technology, navigation systems, and experience, setting the stage for record-breaking missions that would push both men and machines to their limits.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The ferocious attack shattered the cockpit, both pilot and co-pilot (2nd Lt. Franklin Westberg) were wounded, instruments failed, oil covered the windscreen and the aircraft fell into a 3,000 foot spin from which survival seemed over. With skill and strength however, 1st Lt. Michael managed to pull the aircraft out of the dive, only to discover that the bomb bay, still full of incendiaries, was on fire – the result of yet another attack. With damage to the release equipment, the crew were unable to jettison the bombs – the situation was getting worse.

The only way they could survive now was to bale out, and so Michael gave the order. On doing so, he was greeted by the horrendous sight of the top turret gunner, Jewel Philips, holding his eye in his hand and blood gushing from a severe head wound.

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

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

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

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

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

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

1st. Lt. Michael’s citation*¹⁵ read:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

As peace settled over Europe, Britain faced a daunting challenge: what to do with nearly 700 surplus wartime airfields, many hastily built and suddenly redundant. While some were dismantled or repurposed for civilian use, others – including Chelveston – were quietly retained, waiting for a world that was rapidly becoming uncertain once more. By the early 1950s, the rise of the Cold War, nuclear weapons, and jet bombers would transform these dormant relics into strategic strongholds, setting the stage for a dramatic new chapter in both British and American air power.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Return to Schweinfurt: Catastrophe in the Autumn Skies

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

RAF Chelveston (Station 105).

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

1st Lieutenant John E. Morse – 379th BG RAF Kimbolton

February 22, 2026April 14, 2025 / Aviationtrails / 6 Comments

This is a repost of an event that took place on February 22nd 1944, as told by my good friend Mitch Peeke.

Kimbolton station was home to the four Squadrons of the 379th BG, Eighth Air Force flying B-17 ‘Flying Fortresses’, identifiable by a triangle and large ‘K’ on the fin.

The 379th BG took part in many of the war’s greatest air battles carrying out numerous bombing missions over occupied Europe. They also flew, unprotected, into the heartland of Germany, attacking prestige industrial targets, losing many aircraft and aircrew in the process.

As with many squadrons of both the USAAF and RAF, heroic acts of bravery and self-sacrifice were common place, crews putting their own lives in jeopardy to save those of their fellow crewmen and colleagues. Many did not return as a result. This is the story of one such crew, told by Mitch Peeke.

I was recently contacted by a lady via the GoFundMe (now closed) page linked to the memorial I am raising here at Allhallows, to 2nd Lieutenant Armand Ramacitti and the crew of B-17 #44-6133. The lady’s name is Mary Barton and her Dad was a pilot in the 524th Squadron, 379th Bombardment Group, who were also based at Kimbolton.

Mary Barton’s Dad was 1st Lieutenant John E Morse and his B-17 was #42-5828 “The Sweater Girl“.

The John Morse Crew: (not the final crew of ‘The Sweater Girl’ – see below) Standing left to right : John F. Humphreys (top-turret gunner, fatally injured , mission 54, Dec. 31, 1943) Charles S. Sechrist S/Sgt – Eng/TTG; Homer L. Neill S/Sgt – BTG; Charles E. Cox S/Sgt – RWG; Andrew L. Allen S/Sgt – LWG; Willard H. Clothier T/Sgt RO; Kneeling left to right: John E. Morse 1st Lt – Pilot; Robert J.Philips FO – CP; Robert Y. Daniels 2nd Lt – Bom; Leonard R Lovelace 2nd Lt – Nav; Photo by kind permission of Mary Barton

John Morse’s crew were the second crew assigned to that ship, taking over when the first crew completed their tour. She had already been named “The Sweater Girl” by her first crew. As she’d seen her previous crew safely through their tour, John and his crew kept the name. Sadly, the run of luck was not set to continue. On John’s third mission, their Top turret gunner, John Humphreys was fatally wounded when a German fighter attacked the aircraft.

John’s eighth mission was on February 22nd 1944 during “Big Week.” The target was an aircraft factory at Halberstadt. However, near Koln, “Sweater Girl” was seen to take a devastating hit from Flak in the starboard wing. The aircraft dropped out of formation and went down in a spin. No parachutes were seen to emerge and “Sweater Girl” was presumed lost.

The exploding Flak shell had not only severely damaged the aircraft, but it had started a fire in the Cockpit and terribly wounded the Radio Operator, T/Sgt Willard Clothier. The shrapnel had practically severed Clothier’s thigh. The Tail Gunner, Sgt Edward Pate, had also been wounded and now had a large gaping hole in his ankle. However, John Morse was an exceptional pilot, he’d been a flying Instructor for two years previously and was just shy of thirty years old when he’d volunteered for combat duty. He was not about to give up on his ship or his crew. Somehow, John managed to regain control of the aircraft pulling it out of its potentially terminal fall.

The Cockpit fire having now been put out, John and his Co Pilot realised that “Sweater Girl” would never make it back to Kimbolton. With two critically wounded crewmen aboard, John’s next decision was how best to get his crew and his aircraft safely down. There were really only two options: a traditional wheels-up crash landing, or letting the crew bail out.

By now, they were over the German town of Oberbruch, about six miles short of the Dutch border. It was crunch time. John saw a piece of open ground below, away from the houses, but it wasn’t big enough to accommodate a B-17 coming in wheels-up. Gently banking left, he began circling, giving the “Everybody out!” order to the crew. The Bombardier had already put a tourniquet on the Radio Operator’s thigh and a field dressing on the Tail gunner’s ankle. Both men were now strapped into their parachutes and put out of the aircraft. As the rest of the crew bailed out, John trimmed the stricken B-17 and lashed the control yoke with belts to hold “Sweater Girl” in the shallow spiral dive he’d started, then he too bailed out.

John’s piloting skills had saved his crew. Moreover, as “Sweater Girl” continued to circle, descending unmanned over that open ground, the people on the ground watching the drama unfold had plenty of warning that a crash was inevitable. Witnesses on the ground said that the plane had circled for nearly fifteen minutes before finally and literally flying itself into the ground behind the houses. There was no explosion and nobody was hurt.

B-17 ‘The Sweater Girl’ #42-5828 after crashing at Oberbruch (by kind permission of Mary Barton)

The Tail Gunner, Sgt Edward Pate, and the Radioman, T/Sgt Willard Clothier, were both repatriated some months later, after treatment in a POW Hospital, Clothier losing his leg. John Morse and the rest of “Sweater Girl”s crew spent the remainder of the war as POW’s. All later returned home.

In 2015, A civic-minded citizen of Oberbruch, Helmut Franken, created a monument to the event bearing the names of all nine crew members, near to the place where the B-17 crashed. He also sent Mary, John Morse’s daughter, the pictures of the wreck, which were taken the day after the crash. Oberbruch has never forgotten how John Morse’s actions that day not only saved the lives of his crew, but also spared the town from what certainly would have been a devastating plane crash.

A few years ago, Mary was fortunate enough not only to have been given a tour, with her sister, of Kimbolton as it is now, but also to have been able to take a flight in a B-17. She described it as an unforgettable experience and one that added to her understanding of her late Father. She wants others to be able to have that experience, which is why she is kindly supporting A WING AND A PRAYER. She wants to help keep Britain’s last remaining airworthy B-17 in the air, as a flying memorial to the 79,000 US and British airmen who gave their lives flying B-17’s during World War 2.

Thank you, Mary; for your support and for sharing your Dad’s remarkable story and the equally remarkable photographs.

Note:

My own thanks go to Mitch for writing the article and for gaining Mary’s permission to publish both it and her photos. I also thank Mary for taking the time to share her father’s story, it is truly a remarkable one.

‘Sweater Girl‘ was a B-17-F-VE ‘Flying Fortress’ delivered to Long Beach March 1st, 1943. She travelled to Sioux City, onto Kearney and then to Dow Field where she was assigned to the 524thBS/379thBG and Kimbolton. Her loss is detailed in MACR 2868.

The crew at the time of the crash were:

Sgt. Edward T Pate (TG) – repatriated
1st Lt. John E. Morse (P) – POW
F.O. Robert J. Philips (CP) – POW
2nd Lt. Leonard R. Lovelace (Nav) – POW
2nd Lt. Robert Y. Daniels (Bom) – POW
T. Sgt. Willard H. Clothier (RO/Gunner) – RTB
S/Sgt. Homer L. Neil (BTG) – POW
S/Sgt. Charles S. Sechrist (Eng/TTG) – POW
S/Sgt. Charles E. Cox (RWG) – POW
S/Sgt. Andrew L. Allen (LWG) – POW

Kimbolton airfield is part of Trail 6, little exists of it, the main buildings and runways being removed many years ago. Patches of concrete do still remain and part of it forms a kart track. A memorial and a Roll of Honour stand outside what was the airfield’s technical area.

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

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

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

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

Arrival of WAAFs and Local Folklore

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

Enemy Attacks and a Safe Haven.

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

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

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

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

Earlier Emergency Landings

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

USAAF Arrivals and High-Profile Visits

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

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

Accidents and Operational Hazards

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

Winter Challenges, Early 1943

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

Spring Accidents, more Losses and more Changes

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

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

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

1944 – Departure of the Central Gunnery School

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

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

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

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

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

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

1946 – The End of an era

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

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

Post War Legacy

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

Sutton Bridge Today

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sources and Further Reading (Sutton Bridge)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*⁸ BAE Systems Website accessed 30.3.25.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*¹⁷ Commonwealth War Graves Commission website

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

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

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

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

Flight Safety Network website

RAF Sutton Bridge Part 5 – The arrival of The CGS

January 31, 2026September 22, 2025 / Aviationtrails / Leave a comment

In Part 4, the birth of 6 OTU turned Sutton Bridge into a fast-paced training hub turning skilled pilots into front-line fighters. Operating Hurricanes, Battles, and Gladiators despite shortages and harsh Fen weather, the unit trained British and foreign recruits under tight schedules and high pressure. Success came at a cost, with accidents and fatalities a constant reminder of the dangers faced even before reaching combat, underscoring Sutton Bridge’s vital role in preparing airmen for the Second World War.

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

1941: The Expanding War

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

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

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

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

An International Gathering

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

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

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

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

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

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

Crowded Skies, Growing Dangers

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

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

1942: Transition and Advanced Training

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

More changes at the Top

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Rocket-Firing Hurricane Trials

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

By 1941 Sutton Bridge had grown into a bustling hub of Allied air training, hosting a mix of British, European, Commonwealth, and American pilots. The airfield remained under constant threat from Luftwaffe raids, while crowded skies and inexperienced trainees made accidents a grim reality. In 1942, the focus shifted from front-line pilot training to advanced gunnery instruction with the arrival of the Central Gunnery School. Fighter and bomber crews honed their skills in Spitfires, Wellingtons, and Hampdens, while innovative experiments, including rocket-firing Hurricanes, highlighted Sutton Bridge’s role at the cutting edge of aerial warfare. Despite progress, the dangers were ever-present, with both trainees and experienced instructors paying the ultimate price.

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

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

RAF Sutton Bridge Part 4 – Under the Spotlight

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

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

The Birth of 6 Operational Training Unit

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

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

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

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

Training for War: Sutton Bridge under the Spotlight

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Training at a Cost: Accidents and Fatalities at 6 OTU

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

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

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

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

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

Instructors of Note: The Arrival of Bill Waterton

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

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

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

Foreign Trainees and the Cost of Speed

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

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

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

‘Handcraft hut’ now a private building.

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

From 6 OTU to 56 OTU: A New Chapter

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

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

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

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

A New Spirit: The RAF and Its American Volunteers

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

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

The First American Loss: Pilot Officer William Davis

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

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

The Eagles Gather

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

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

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

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

RAF Sutton Bridge Part 3 – Defiants and Battles

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Defiants, Battles, and the Harsh Winter of 1939

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

From Battles to Spitfires: The Transformation of 266 Squadron

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

Entrance to bomb store 2.

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

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

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

An Airfield Without a Squadron: Sutton Bridge in Transition

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

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

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

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

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

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

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RAF Chelveston (Station 105).

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Arrival of WAAFs and Local Folklore

Enemy Attacks and a Safe Haven.

Earlier Emergency Landings

USAAF Arrivals and High-Profile Visits

Accidents and Operational Hazards

Winter Challenges, Early 1943

Spring Accidents, more Losses and more Changes

1944 – Departure of the Central Gunnery School

1946 – The End of an era

Post War Legacy

Sutton Bridge Today

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1941: The Expanding War

An International Gathering

Crowded Skies, Growing Dangers

1942: Transition and Advanced Training

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

More changes at the Top

Rocket-Firing Hurricane Trials

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The Birth of 6 Operational Training Unit

Training for War: Sutton Bridge under the Spotlight

Training at a Cost: Accidents and Fatalities at 6 OTU

Instructors of Note: The Arrival of Bill Waterton

Foreign Trainees and the Cost of Speed

From 6 OTU to 56 OTU: A New Chapter

A New Spirit: The RAF and Its American Volunteers

The First American Loss: Pilot Officer William Davis

The Eagles Gather

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Defiants, Battles, and the Harsh Winter of 1939

From Battles to Spitfires: The Transformation of 266 Squadron

An Airfield Without a Squadron: Sutton Bridge in Transition

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