Memphis Belle taking off from Duxford in the UK - see more at the end of the page of The London Guide.
snippets from an article published in the US
I have just returned from Duxford after seeing many brave displays of aircraft and as usual a packed house for everyone. Dreary weather, but a huge success as always as old and new aircraft take to the skies and put on an acrobatic display. Especially the old wartime mustang that was so successfully supportive to the flying fortresses and liberators following many losses. Set within the most complete First and Second World War airfield in the world, Imperial War museum Duxford takes you back on an incredible journey of aviation in times of war and peace. The battle of Britain celebrates its 70th anniversary. In the hangers all makes of aircraft. In many brick huts there still remains an extraordinary collection of objects on display. In 2007 the Airspace tells the story of British and commonwealth aviation and home to the spitfire, the Lancaster bomber and fast-ever Concorde.
Duxford, really is a good day out for the family. The whole day may be needed to
see everything so they have shops and a eating house with ample parking. One of my favourite modern hangars is the American Air Museum. A memorial telling the story of the american air power and its modern effect on the world. Home of the largest collection of american combat aircraft outside of the United States. You will find a flying fortress B17 on display at Duxford with its artwork and the name Sally B on its nose.
I am sure this aircraft was used in the film Memphis Belle and filmed partially at Duxford. Entrance is £14 per adult. Children get in free. It is a great experience if you are visiting from abroad and want to include this in your itinary. Cambridge is just 20 minuLiving in south Norfolk in England I have appreciated learning about the many used and disused airfields throughout this beautiful county. Today, most of those busy airfields have gone back to the land save for glimpses of perimeter track and runway that now serves for hay bales and beetroot and potatoes and if you were a visitor to the area or driving through you may not know about what happened there during 1943 nor would know that every few miles there were other airfields and bomb groups and air crew taking to the skies - the skies were never still, Norfolk was tagged Little America and noteably the airfield Thorpe Abbots - the 100th bomb group that was tagged the jinxed outfit, the bloody hundreth, because of the heavy losses sustained during the early campaigns. Despite many bases have long disappeared under the weeds and furrows there are many still in existence and most used for glider clubs. There are two air towers. Both have been lovingly cared for in the postwar years. The upkeep has been hard, surviving on local contributions and donations from veterans and their familes. Volunteers come from the boys that were mesmerised by their american heroes during the war years. These boys, now men, contribute to keeping these towers in good order. Both have become museums and a visitor will easily be taken back in nostalgia and in the present atmosphere with no shortage of personal letters and photographs. I have my own website featuring lovely Norfolk with pictures of its stately homes and idylic cottages, countryside and coastal beaches. I have donated a page to the american bomb groups with videos and pictures and music plus links relating to the airfields past and present. It is worth a look. You can navigate from there and see other pages in my site. I hope you enjoy your visit.
When I moved into South Wymondham from an industrial town, I soon began to
relax. What better way to relax at the sight of the postman trundling down a
narrow country lane towards a couple of thatched houses on the fringe of an
old airfield. I recall, getting out of my car on a warm day and retracing my
steps back from the night before; when lost in the country, I turned off up
this dark lane and suddenly found myself in an expanse of nothingness. I got
out of the car and a cold open wind nearly cut me in two. A few wooden signs
left over from the war, told me I was about eleven miles from the town and
with that, I almost got back into the car, under a lot of pressure from my
partner. Something did not feel right about this. No trees, no bushes and no
houses or buildings at all. I was at the crossroads where the darkness hung
heavy and a atmosphere was brewing. I got in and drove off and eventually
got home and that was that.
A year later, again on a warm day, I drove out the car and fancied a walk.
I eventually went on to walk many miles around that neck of the woods......
idylic surrounds, peaceful and relaxing, a few wild red poppies sulking in
the hedgerow and the usual unmistakable rural noises...Then suddenly, I came
onto a wide expanse of field mostly yellow with rape seed beginning to grow
high. The mystery was now over. This was the place I had landed on a year
ago. It felt very much the same, only more colourful and gentle, hay bales
were in a row on what I could see was a part of a runway. And then further
on another wide expanse of concrete until I figured that this was once a very
large airfield.
A day later, I went into Wymondham library and secured myself a book from
the local studies librarian. Airfields in the South of Norfolk. I skimmed through
and then I saw that indeed that was an airfield used by the americans during
1942 where the Flying Fortresses flew off into the open skies from two runways.
The village next door was Deopham Green. A Picturesque village that must have
had a rude awakening when the bulldozers moved in to lay all those miles of
bending concrete. Once I had the book, I was able to go back and see the actual
design of the base with its layout of runway and perimeter track. Then the
imagination took over. I was able to position where the bomb dumps were kept.
The dispersals. The main runway, but sadly no look-out tower. Only a bald patch
where it had once stood with all that activity. Then on the fringe I saw a few left
over nissun huts and brick huts, one I later understood was the cookhouse. I had
walked around several times in the space of two days and really enjoyed it.
I later found out, that there was a man who took visitors around the site and
filled them in on its history. Sadly, as the years have gone on, very few have
arrived from the States and elsewhere to link up with the locals and the memories
of those traumatic times.
This was an interest to me for some while as there were other airfields to see
some still in very good condition and though most of the tracks and runways
have gone, gliders still use what's left.
I moved out of Wymondham some years later. Two years ago I went back to
walk about but this was not on a sunny day. It was leading up to Christmas and
darkness sank heavy on the old site. Now, it looked desolate and forlorn and
brooding under a grey sky. A cold wind like I had met before, went inside of my
clothes and a chill masked my face. I was standing on this piece of runway and
felt the tall dry grass snap and crackle about my turn-ups. The wind seemed to
carry forth a mixed sound of memories. But the cold broke the spell. I walked
quickly back to the car as if spooked by something..........
snippets from an article published in the US
I have just returned from Duxford after seeing many brave displays of aircraft and as usual a packed house for everyone. Dreary weather, but a huge success as always as old and new aircraft take to the skies and put on an acrobatic display. Especially the old wartime mustang that was so successfully supportive to the flying fortresses and liberators following many losses. Set within the most complete First and Second World War airfield in the world, Imperial War museum Duxford takes you back on an incredible journey of aviation in times of war and peace. The battle of Britain celebrates its 70th anniversary. In the hangers all makes of aircraft. In many brick huts there still remains an extraordinary collection of objects on display. In 2007 the Airspace tells the story of British and commonwealth aviation and home to the spitfire, the Lancaster bomber and fast-ever Concorde.
Duxford, really is a good day out for the family. The whole day may be needed to
see everything so they have shops and a eating house with ample parking. One of my favourite modern hangars is the American Air Museum. A memorial telling the story of the american air power and its modern effect on the world. Home of the largest collection of american combat aircraft outside of the United States. You will find a flying fortress B17 on display at Duxford with its artwork and the name Sally B on its nose.
I am sure this aircraft was used in the film Memphis Belle and filmed partially at Duxford. Entrance is £14 per adult. Children get in free. It is a great experience if you are visiting from abroad and want to include this in your itinary. Cambridge is just 20 minuLiving in south Norfolk in England I have appreciated learning about the many used and disused airfields throughout this beautiful county. Today, most of those busy airfields have gone back to the land save for glimpses of perimeter track and runway that now serves for hay bales and beetroot and potatoes and if you were a visitor to the area or driving through you may not know about what happened there during 1943 nor would know that every few miles there were other airfields and bomb groups and air crew taking to the skies - the skies were never still, Norfolk was tagged Little America and noteably the airfield Thorpe Abbots - the 100th bomb group that was tagged the jinxed outfit, the bloody hundreth, because of the heavy losses sustained during the early campaigns. Despite many bases have long disappeared under the weeds and furrows there are many still in existence and most used for glider clubs. There are two air towers. Both have been lovingly cared for in the postwar years. The upkeep has been hard, surviving on local contributions and donations from veterans and their familes. Volunteers come from the boys that were mesmerised by their american heroes during the war years. These boys, now men, contribute to keeping these towers in good order. Both have become museums and a visitor will easily be taken back in nostalgia and in the present atmosphere with no shortage of personal letters and photographs. I have my own website featuring lovely Norfolk with pictures of its stately homes and idylic cottages, countryside and coastal beaches. I have donated a page to the american bomb groups with videos and pictures and music plus links relating to the airfields past and present. It is worth a look. You can navigate from there and see other pages in my site. I hope you enjoy your visit.
When I moved into South Wymondham from an industrial town, I soon began to
relax. What better way to relax at the sight of the postman trundling down a
narrow country lane towards a couple of thatched houses on the fringe of an
old airfield. I recall, getting out of my car on a warm day and retracing my
steps back from the night before; when lost in the country, I turned off up
this dark lane and suddenly found myself in an expanse of nothingness. I got
out of the car and a cold open wind nearly cut me in two. A few wooden signs
left over from the war, told me I was about eleven miles from the town and
with that, I almost got back into the car, under a lot of pressure from my
partner. Something did not feel right about this. No trees, no bushes and no
houses or buildings at all. I was at the crossroads where the darkness hung
heavy and a atmosphere was brewing. I got in and drove off and eventually
got home and that was that.
A year later, again on a warm day, I drove out the car and fancied a walk.
I eventually went on to walk many miles around that neck of the woods......
idylic surrounds, peaceful and relaxing, a few wild red poppies sulking in
the hedgerow and the usual unmistakable rural noises...Then suddenly, I came
onto a wide expanse of field mostly yellow with rape seed beginning to grow
high. The mystery was now over. This was the place I had landed on a year
ago. It felt very much the same, only more colourful and gentle, hay bales
were in a row on what I could see was a part of a runway. And then further
on another wide expanse of concrete until I figured that this was once a very
large airfield.
the local studies librarian. Airfields in the South of Norfolk. I skimmed through
and then I saw that indeed that was an airfield used by the americans during
1942 where the Flying Fortresses flew off into the open skies from two runways.
The village next door was Deopham Green. A Picturesque village that must have
had a rude awakening when the bulldozers moved in to lay all those miles of
bending concrete. Once I had the book, I was able to go back and see the actual
design of the base with its layout of runway and perimeter track. Then the
imagination took over. I was able to position where the bomb dumps were kept.
The dispersals. The main runway, but sadly no look-out tower. Only a bald patch
where it had once stood with all that activity. Then on the fringe I saw a few left
over nissun huts and brick huts, one I later understood was the cookhouse. I had
walked around several times in the space of two days and really enjoyed it.
I later found out, that there was a man who took visitors around the site and
filled them in on its history. Sadly, as the years have gone on, very few have
arrived from the States and elsewhere to link up with the locals and the memories
of those traumatic times.
This was an interest to me for some while as there were other airfields to see
some still in very good condition and though most of the tracks and runways
have gone, gliders still use what's left.
I moved out of Wymondham some years later. Two years ago I went back to
walk about but this was not on a sunny day. It was leading up to Christmas and
darkness sank heavy on the old site. Now, it looked desolate and forlorn and
brooding under a grey sky. A cold wind like I had met before, went inside of my
clothes and a chill masked my face. I was standing on this piece of runway and
felt the tall dry grass snap and crackle about my turn-ups. The wind seemed to
carry forth a mixed sound of memories. But the cold broke the spell. I walked
quickly back to the car as if spooked by something..........