Craters

 

The forest in pocked with craters from the second world war, dozens of them. Some from deliberate Luftwaffe attacks, or dumping their munitions before the return trip across the channel; others were self inflicted in pursuit of victory. Near Godshill in the north of the forest is the site of a World War Two test range, the Ashley Range. They tested all sorts up here, both defensive and offensive; from air raid shelters and aircraft pens to Tall Boy and Grand Slam, the earthquake bombs whose craters are still visible adjacent to the mock submarine pen atop Hampton Ridge. They even tested 'Highball' a version of the Bouncing Bomb here. If you're into World War Two sites, it's a place worth exploring.

Bomb loading Ramp

 

The New forest was home to a number of World War Two airfields, 80 years on and very little physical evidence of them remains, the Bomb Store at Hawkhill is one of the more interesting. Easy to miss amongst the undergrowth, one of the bomb stores' two loading/unloading ramps which would have been used to transfer bombs from delivery lorries onto land trains ready for storage or deployment around Beaulieu airfield.

Runway light

 

Due the short-sightedness of the New Forest National Park Authority very little remains of the forests' Second World War physical heritage, although if you look closely you'll still be able spot a feature or two. Like this runway light frame along the former course of 'Runway One' on one of the forests' most notable airfields Stoney Cross, the runway itself was grubbed up in the late 80's/early 90's. Look carefully and every couple of meters you'll find one of these frames, once a heart warming sign of safety and home.

Wartime relic

I glanced down as we navigated the undercliff of Mupe Bay and spotted a 1945 type guilded metal clad steel .303 cal. projectile.  You can tell it's 1945, or after, by the position of the crimp; pre-1945 the crimp would have been lower down the projectile. The bullet was unmarked, I suppose it could've hit something soft, though I think it was more likely a dropped round later set off in a bush fire on the coastal grassland above. I saw lots of examples of that on Godlingston Heath, another wartime training ground, projectile and case often laying less than a meter apart.

Down but not out

I'm not certain how far up the cliff side this Type 25 pillbox was originally sited, but I do remember it sitting above the level of the orange/yellow sands back in the late 1970's. Along with other structures around Studland it was built hastily in 1940 by the Directorate of Fortifications and Works (FW3) to offer some defence against the believed imminent German invasion. Necessity driven by war meant that around the country not all structures were completed to a high standard, clearly 85 years exposed to the elements and still standing ready suggests this one certainly was.

The 902

 

All the graffiti you find has a story to it, rarely though is it revealled to us. If you're lucky there may be clues which could hint to their possible origins. Take this boxed 902 on a beech in the Ocknell enclosure, what could its story be? Ocknell is on the edge of Stoney Cross plain, the site of one of the forests major World War Two airfeilds. So. Could there be a connection between the airfeild and 902? Possibly. The site was used by the USAAF 9th Air force and 387th bomber group, and there are other examples of Second World War American grafitti in the enclosure. The 902 could refer to the 902 Military Police Company (Aviation), a guard squadron which would have been present where the USAAF were stationed.  I reckon it's as good a thesis as any.

Unusual find

Racing along a narrow track through the heather I spun around as something caught my eye. It's amazing how your subconscious runs a program in the back ground which will register the out of place. On inspection I saw something definitely man made, and as soon as I handled it I had an inkling, and then when I turned it over I knew exactly was it was, but not what from. It's a ammunition clip, but for something higher calibre. Turns out to be a clip for a .55 Boys Anti Tank Rifle. The Boys was introduced into service in 1934, and although initially effective against light amour, it soon became redundant as the Second World War progressed and amour developed. The Boys was replaced in 1943 by the more effective and versatile PIAT. So when and how did this clip find its' way here?

Rhinefield plot

There's a block of woodland, a stand of younger deciduous trees, oaks, in Rhinefield Sandy's, that has always struck me as different. I've long wondered about this stand. Then a stumble on the inter-web answered my question. I came across a 1944-1950 aerial photo (National Library of Scotland) covering this part of the forest, and it showed that this parcel of land appears to have been agricultural plots during World War Two and into the post war rationing period. That would explain a lot; although  very gently sloping, the woodland floor is flat, and beyond some minor incursions from bracken, there's very little ground flora other than grasses. Makes sense adjacent to Rhinefield House. More broadly during and after World War Two some 350 Hectares of the forest went under the plough.

Old track

 

An old winding forestry track through Anderwood enclosure, and it is quite old, showing on maps from the mid 1800's; the depression to the side of the track is a hundred years younger, a Second World War bomb crater, a gift from the luftwaffe. Danke.

Bomb store track

 

In the hollow of Magpie Bottom the last remaining section of the Second World War concrete track way which ran between the Bomb Store at the Corner of Holmsley Enclosure and the dispersal pans on Plain Heath. The majority of the track way has had it's concrete surface grubbed up, now just bare gravel. I think this section only survived due to the boggy nature of the bottom here, the removal of the concrete would've rendered the track impassable.

MM 1944

 

There are those in the nature loving and pagan communities who'd pour scorn on folk who'd scar and mark trees, and in some circumstances I've got a degree of sympathy for that. Though I have to say that for the most part I enjoy graffiti. Be it profane or mundane or profound, someone had been moved enough to spend time and effort on it's carving. Fair play. One type of graffiti that never fails to move me is wartime graffiti, and particularly that of American servicemen here only fleetingly during World War Two. I've often wondered the fates of the carvers. To me the imagine of young men thousands of miles from home, fully cognisant of the possibilities ahead on the eve of the unknown wishing to leave some mark before they go, no matter how ephemeral, is a powerful image. MM did just that in 1944, no doubt just before D-Day. There used to be ten or so pieces of American WW2 graffiti I knew of in Burley Old, though as the years go by they're slowly being reduced by time and the elements. 

RAF Holmsley South

 

At the corner of Holmsley enclosure, easy to overlook as you pass, are these unassuming earthwork features which were once the site of serious and dangerous work in the pursuit of victory; they're all that remains of RAF Holmsley Souths' bomb store. Bomb store sounds quite straight forward, but there was more to it than that, the bombs required preparing for use and strict procedures needed following. The bombs went on a journey. The photo above is of one of the two main storage areas that housed the bodies and separately the tail units of the bombs which run at 90 degrees around the corner of Holmsley enclosure. From here a trackway along which the bomb trains ran, travelling back and forth between store and planes parked on the dispersals. By the side of the trackway were a series of stations, brick built loading bays, smoke bomb and small bomb stores, component stores and finally the fusing point, the last stop before the bomb ready store where prepared bombs waited to be taken to the planes; all of these sites had associated trackways, nissen huts, blast walls and such like. Sadly as with other Second World War airfields in the forest, and short-sightedly in my opinion, the physical remains of RAF Holmsley South were viewed as having no historic/archaeological value and subsequently over the years, beyond a short section of Runway, some perimeter track and some dispersal pads,  all have been destroyed. Criminal really.

Canadian Memorial

 

The forest was utilized by all branches of the services during World War Two, if you look carefully you can still find the evidence here and there, as a consequence there's a number wartime memorials about. Aptly our walk this morning took us past one them, the Canadian Memorial in Bolderwood. A wooden cross was erected and services held here in the months and days prior to D-Day by men of the 3rd Canadian Infantry Div who during D-Day took terrible loses and casualties securing Juno beach. After the war it was decided to maintain the site as a memorial to the Canadians who'd worshipped here, and more broadly the Canadians who'd passed through the forest on their way to war. And so it remains today.

Tracks in time

A broad loosely linear ribbon of innumerable ruts running from Whitefield Moor on the outskirts of Brockenhurst up onto Hincheslea Moor and Wilverely Plain before snaking off towards either Holm Hill and Ober Water in one direction and Long Slades Bottom in the other; in some sections they're much more noticeable than others, in some sections they're so ephemeral as to be near invisible. You might reasonably think they're natural features caused by erosion or so such, maybe they could be signs of forestry works, or it's quite possible you'd overlook them all together amongst the heather and gorse. In fact they're an interesting archaeological feature from World War Two. Throughout the war the forest was used by various branches of the military, and these are the 80 year old tracks left by Churchill tanks of the 33rd Army Tank Brigade/43rd Bat Royal Tank Regiment on exercise hereabouts in 1942. One of the more recent layers of history etched onto the forests' landscape, joining numerous archaeological features reaching back thousands of years. My photo doesn't do the tracks or their scale justice, if you're interested check them out on a satellite map or LIDAR.

Ibsley Common WW2 monuments

 

The New Forest has had a long and varied history (and prehistory) of human activity, the evidence of which can be seen through a range of features from lumps and bumps in the ground to more substantial monuments. Here on Ibsley Common a pair of related Second World War monuments; the remnants of a World War Two Radio Direction Finding Station. The station, one of three spaced around the nearby Ibsley Airfield, all issued the same frequency, navigational aids allowing pilots to determined their position. The remains are a hexagonal blast wall for a long gone wooden tower, surrounded by small concrete blocks representing compass points, and the foundations of a rectangular brick building adjacent to an underground air raid shelter; the shelter used to be filled by rubble, although since I last passed this way it's been cleared. An interesting site.

Alder carr

 

Alder (Alnus glutinosa) carr is common along some stretches of the forest's streams; take a closer look and you'll often spot that many of these trees show evidence of past coppicing, a common forestry practice. Back in World War Two the forest's Alder was called to national service, and were mass harvested in order to be turned into high grade charcoal for the 40 million gas masks required to protect the nation...that's a lot of charcoal. Charcoal production is one of the oldest of the forest industries, an important activity it was practiced throughout history; a tradition which continues in the forest today, albeit on a vastly reduced scale today at Pondhead.

Bombe

You'd be surprised at how many World War Two bomb craters there are littering the forest, for the most part (beyond Ashley Ranges) dropped by the German Luftwaffe; whether dropped in anger on purpose/target or dumped before returning home for safety is often less certain.

CFC Canadian Forestry Corps?

I stumbled upon two interesting pieces of graffiti on the same tree, and both similar are in nature; J.Liafe CFC, and on the opposite side W. (the other initial lost to bark scaring, although possibly a T, as part of the top remains) CFC. CFC, eh? The nature of the graffiti gives me the impression that it's a good few decades old, and the fact that both CFC's are carved in the same unique style suggests that they're contemporary with each other.  After an internet search I came to the conclusion that CFC may well stand for the Canadian Forestry Corps; the corp was active in Britain (mainly Scotland) during both world wars; the nature of the graffiti ie. how it's stretched, scared and aged is very reminiscent of other Second World War examples. The Canadian Forestry Corps, nicknamed the 'Sawdust Fusiliers', was a corp of the Canadian Army who although given basic training were not expected to participate in combat, all things forestry and timber was their bag. There was a saw mill close by in Denny Enclosure between 1939-1945 which was said to be the only mill in the forest capable of handling 'large diameter timber', so although primarily stationed in Scotland, it is conceivable that Canadian Forestry Corps members with their experience and knowledge of dealing with large timber could have been employed in the area (I know some were stationed in Surrey). More research would be required to confirm that any members were stationed in the forest, and of course it could also be they were just passing by* or on leave. 

* During a cursory search I did come across this interesting reference:  'After the landings in Normandy in Jun 1944, ten companies eventually moved to the Continent to continue operations there; 77 square timber rafts and 54 round timber rafts had been created in Southampton to moved timber across the English Channel with them.' www.canadiansoldiers.com/corpsbranches/forestrycorps.htm  

Avon Water crater

When they restored this section of Avon Water between Holmsley station and Wootton Bridge, the new course of the stream cut through what I believe to be a Second World War bomb crater (it exhibits all the characteristics and is adjacent to the old railway line, which would've been a wartime target). The restoration has brought the old bomb crater to life. The crater used to be seasonally wet, though for the most part quite the dank lifeless hole, now it's part of a rich and verdant developing wetland/carr woodland environment.  You'd be surprised at how many World War Two bomb craters pock the forest, not all of them the result of the enemy either.

Steamer Point

We wandered along Highcliffe beach this morning, amongst the dunes that are developing below Steamer Point. You'd imagine that the name Steamer Point may refer to a location you'd catch a steamer from. Well, nearly. There once was a Streamer here, although it wasn't going anywhere...it had reached it's final destination. When the nearby Highcliffe Castle was being built, a steamer was beached and then hauled aways inland where it was wedged in place between two large trees and used as the site office. Afterwards it remained as a beach house until around 1900.  Later during the war Steamer Point was home to a secret military establishment researching radar and communications, post war SRDE developed Britain's first satellite communications system... locally famous for it's distinctive white golf ball like dome which housed a satellite dish. Today although the steamer's long gone (the military too) the name remains, and the site is now a wildlife reserve with a section of undeveloped beach below it. Nice spot. Historically the premier location for beach parties...before the banning of fun.