Bunkers Galore!

After the British Army’s withdrawal from Dunkirk and the collapse of France in June 1940, Britain stood alone against the might of the German Army and braced itself in readiness to face invasion. Having smashed through France, Holland and Belgium, the next obvious move by Hitler must surely be the invasion of Britain. British coastal fortifications were sorely lacking and a program of building defenses was instituted. Men and material were rushed to points where an invasion force was likely to land. Men quickly began building pillboxes and other obstacles to protect bridges, roads, stretches of railway tracks and even airfields.

It was a tour de force and by the end of the war more 18,000 pillboxes had been built, absorbing thousands of tons of concrete and millions of bricks. Combined, these defensive measures ran for hundreds of miles, snaking across rural countryside or as single emplacements strategically sited.

Over the intervening years, many of these structures have been lost due to various reasons, such as house building and land development. However, a lot still remain in fields, down country lanes or by bridges over rivers, where their appearance intrigues people who come across them while out hiking and walking their dogs.

The man responsible for overseeing the country’s defense in 1940 was General Edmund Ironside, a highly experienced and respected leader who understood armored warfare, and who was appointed Commander in Chief of Home Forces. His task was to make sure all contingencies were covered, which included the laying of minefields, building anti-tank walls and pillboxes and digging anti-tank ditches. The plan was to create “a defensive crust along the coast able to fight off small raids, give immediate warning of attack, and delay any landing.” In some cases, defenses dating from many centuries previous were incorporated into the plan. For example, Cardigan Castle in Wales had a concrete pillbox built into the walls overlooking the River Teifi to guard the bridge crossing. At Dover Castle in Kent, where Vice-Admiral Bertram Ramsey had conducted the evacuation from Dunkirk, anti-aircraft guns were sited.

Despite the obvious historical significance and importance of these structures, no formal preservation order has ever been placed on them, meaning many have fallen victim to weathering. Despite being abandoned and neglected, they are not forgotten and a group of enthusiasts have formed the Pillbox Study Group (www.pillbox-study-group.org.uk), which records the location of these defenses and lists their condition, as well as hosting a discussion forum and publishing a newsletter.

Wartime defense structures crop up in the most unlikely places, such as the single pillbox in the tiny harbour of Hope Cove in south Devon. It looks as though it has no reason for being there. However, research shows that during the war the area was used as a radar site by the RAF, which explains its existence. At the other end of the scale, a whole series of fortifications called “stop lines” were intended to slow down an enemy attack sufficiently to allow the army to react to react.

As an avid enthusiast of military history, from any period, I am always ready to investigate things further. I find the best way to understand and appreciate Britain’s wartime defenses is to walk a route such as a coastal path, hundreds of miles of which run along the coast where pillboxes and other installations can often be seen. For example, at Burton Bradstock in Devon, after parking my car, I took a short walk up the hill to where I knew there was a pillbox. The panoramic view across the bay made it an ideal location to keep lookout for any approaching enemy vessels. I have walked other stretches of the path toward West Bay, Lyme, Beer and Seaton, where I have spotted pillboxes and installations for mortars and anti-tank guns. On the north Somerset coast around Minehead and Watchet, I have walked a path to visit pillboxes built to defend points along the Severn Estuary, some of which have been camouflaged by adding stones to the concrete outer layer to make them blend in with their surroundings. Providing they are not on private land, enthusiasts can sometimes gain access — something which I cannot resist. The interiors are nothing special because they were only intended to be manned during an emergency of training practice.

The county of Somerset, where I now live, has strong links connecting it to WWII, such as the RAF airfield constructed on farmland near Weston Zoyland in the 1920s, becoming Station 447 during the war and from where No 16 Squadron operated. The site was guarded by a series of pillboxes around the perimeter. In 1944, the USAAF operated from the airfield to support the Normandy campaign. After the war it reverted to farmland, and today, the owner of the farm, a keen military enthusiast and a supporter of re-enactment and military vehicle owners, established a show on the site called WARAG. The event is relaxed and informal and it is possible to walk around the buildings of the former airfield to explore the site. This is something I have done a couple of times and found it fascinating, and somewhat eerily amazing.

For longer walks I have explored several stretches of well-preserved “stop lines”. For example, not far from where I live is a stretch of the stop line code-named the “Green Line”, which can still be traced in an almost unbroken line for several miles along the banks of the River Brue from Highbridge to Meare. I have also explored another branch of this line near Donyat, where I found myself walking past anti-tank defenses known as “dragons’ teeth”. Other stop lines can be found in Norfolk, but the example in Carmarthenshire in Wales, is one of the most impressive and best preserved in the country.

No matter how many of these structures I have seen over the years, whether going for a walk or when driving, the sight of a wartime pillbox grabs my attention because they are such tangible reminders of the country’s history and the fact a short walk allows them to be examined. Few of them probably ever had a shot fired in anger, but that does not detract from their value as historical sites, especially where a military enthusiast interested in military architecture is concerned. I have found studying them to be a great way to spend a few hours — exploring, walking, and thinking about the part they played in the war, the people who served in them and the weaponry they had.