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In December 1940 I was nine years old, and my parents decided that it would be prudent for me to be evacuated: the intensity of the bombing campaign on Birmingham was increasing, and we only lived 2 miles from the Austin Motor Co. near Bromsgrove in Worcestershire.

Within a week I found myself on my way to stay with an Aunt and Uncle who lived in a small hamlet called Burwarton, which is situated on the B4634 road between Ludlow and Bridgnorth in Shropshire. The hamlet was part of Lord and Lady Boyn’s Estate which also encompassed the whole of the Brown Clee Hills.

The Brown Clee Hills rise sharply to a height of 1900 feet and, due to a naval ammunition dump being situated at the Eastern end of the hills, an aircraft warning beacon was not placed on the hill for security reasons.

The hills soon became a hazard to aircraft; during 1941 no less than nine aircraft came to grief by flying into the hill with the total loss of 32 lives. It is one of these incidents which I still remember in great detail and recount here.

At 9.45am on Tuesday the 2nd of April 1941 I was, as usual, attending the small village school at Burwarton, when there was an almighty explosion followed by several smaller explosions; at 10.45am it was decided by the Headmistress - a Mrs Knott - that we should all return home, much to our delight!

We guessed that an aircraft had flown into the hill, and therefore several of us decided to investigate, including two of my pals, Harry and Jack Hornsby who where evacuees from Liverpool. Having climbed to the top of Brown Clee Hill in thick fog, a distance of 2 miles, we were met by a scene of utter carnage. In actual fact, we were the first group to reach the crash-site as the Home-Guard and Police did not arrive until 11.45am.

The aircraft, a JU88A, had crashed into the hill whilst flying in thick fog. It had obviously lost height in a shallow dive as, prior to impact, it had cut a 250 yard swathe through the pine-trees before exploding. In addition, several of its load of bombs had exploded, resulting in the wreckage bursting into flames. The charred bodies of the four-man crew lay within the wreckage.

We spent some time examining bits and pieces of the aircraft and also helping ourselves to several souvenirs, but after a short time the Home-Guard and Police arrived and we were promptly removed from the area!

On reflection, the most vivid image of that day that has remained with me for the past 65 years occured at 4pm on that Tuesday afternoon. I was in the habit of walking half a mile after school in order to collect pint cans of skimmed milk from the dairy. For this task I was paid one penny per day. As I was walking up the hill I witnessed the bodies of the German airmen being transported down Clee Hill on a trailer, pulled by an orange Fordson Tractor, being driven by Mr. Bradley who was the tenant of the Home Farm on the estate. On reaching the Estate Yard, the remains of the airmen were placed in a barn prior to being taken to the cemetery in Bridgnorth.

THE AIRCRAFT

In 1975, I decided to investigate the aircraft that had crashed on this particular day.
The aircraft was a Luftwaffe Junkers 88A of 8/KG1, number V4+BS which had intended to take part on a bombing raid on Birmingham but had lost its bearings in poor visibility.

The pilot was a Uffz. Hans Ewald. the co-pilot was Uffz. H. Prochnow. the navigator was Uffz. W. Lehnhardt and the air-gunner was Fw. E. Wels. This crew was later interred in the German War Cemetery situated on Cannock Chase, Staffordshire where they remain in peace.

Strange that it may seem, this was not the only visit from the Luftwaffe for Burwarton; I think it was the following July that the whole hamlet was awakened in the middle of the night by an explosion just outside of the hamlet. This was the result of another bomb being jettisoned by a German aircraft. Fortunately the bomb fell in a field but I remember a large crater as a result.

I recall my Uncle saying that the aircraft was returning from a raid on Liverpool (to my knowledge this was not confirmed); however, several women in the village were convinced that the bomb was jettisoned as a result of Mrs Rawlins showing a light in her living-room. I also recall my Aunt being administered Sal Volatile (smelling-salts) for shock!

A DISAPPOINTMENT FOR UNCLE BILL

One incident which comes to mind and caused a certain amount of consternation within the community concerned my Uncle, who like most men in the village was a member of the local Home-Guard. The Home-Guard held their parades in the Village Hall situated in the next village (Cleobury North) one mile away, and it was usual for the members of the Home-Guard to march from Burwarton once a week in order to attend their parade night. The Commanding Officer of the unit was a Captain Edwards who was also the Burwarton Estate Manager, and I can only assume that his rank of “Captain” was a relic from World War 1.

However, my Uncle had been confident that his promotion to Corporal was imminent and this assumption had seemed to be confirmed as a member of the unit stated that he had seen my Uncle’s name mentioned in a memo which had been spotted on Captain Edwards’ desk. Unfortunately for my Uncle, whilst marching to parade, he was surprised to see Captain Edwards pull his car to the side of the road and hand a set of Corporal stripes to another member of the unit.
This incident remained the talking point in the village for several weeks to come.

ODD EVACUATION JOTTINGS FROM 1941

Sitting on a stone wall at the side of the road asking for sweets fom the soldiers who drove their vehicles in convoys for hour after hour through Burwarton.

Chasing rabbits at Harvest time.

Trying to smoke the odd “Woodbine” whilst pumping the church organ during Sunday morning church service.The money to purchase these “Woodbines” - I think they cost 3 old pence for five - was obtained by collecting empty “pop” bottles and returning them to the local Inn in order to claim back 1d. deposit per bottle!

Carving my initials on a tree under our tree-house which also acted as our gang headquaters. I was quite surprised to find my initials still readable when I revisited Burwarton in 2004!

Recovering my cousin after he had fallen through the ice on the local village pool and more importantly, explaining to my Aunt how this mishap had happened!

Washing in cold water by the light of a single candle prior to bed-time!

Being cuffed over the ears by the local village Policeman for firing my catapult at the telephone wires!

HOMEWARD BOUND

In January 1942 I was due to attend Grammar School and therefore returned home to Bromsgrove to enjoy a quiet life; however, my father was not at all happy with my returning home with several bits and pieces of a JU88 bomber, not to mention two matchboxes full of cordite! My father soon solved this problem by burying the aircraft parts under a concrete drive leading to the garage and setting fire to the cordite!

Life became another adventure in 1949 when I joined the Royal Air Force......but thats another story.

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