MEMORIES OF A LOST VILLAGE
IT WAS a mountain community of 52 farms. In it lived more than 200 men, women and children whose ancestors had tended the rugged, remote landscape of mid Wales for hundreds of years. Yet within the space of a few months Epynt was empty – its voices silenced, its homes deserted and its livestock vanished.
An Army officer had arrived one day in September 1939 – nine months after the outbreak of World War II – to scout the area.
And by that Christmas each of those Breconshire farms – whose names the officer had struggled to pronounce – had notices land on their doormats.
Their disbelieving recipients discovered they had until the end of April 1940 to be out of the homes which had been in their families for generations because the Ministry of Defence wanted the region’s 30,000 acres to serve as a training ground.
Some couldn’t conceive that this might be the end – like the farmer who’d regularly travel back to light a fire in his hearth in order to prevent the stonework from falling foul of the elements. He would do that each day until he was greeted by two soldiers who informed him his home was no longer there – it had been reduced to rubble.
Others though were more aware of the finality of the situation. One woman even insisted on taking her front door with her when she left the village.
For many it was the close of an era – the world they had known was over.
The sentiment was echoed by Iowerth Paete, the former curator at St Fagans Folk Museum (now known as the National Museum of History) who was sent there to capture the occasion with his camera.
He recalled horses pulling carts loaded high with furniture heading down the road away from the village and an old woman in tears sitting in a chair outside the home she was being forced to leave.
However, despite the sense of outrage felt at the time, speaking up was equated with going against the war effort and the Allied forces’ battle against Hitler.
As a result the forced evacuation of Epynt did not have the same historical clout as, say, Capel Celyn in North Wales’ Tryweryn Valley, which was deliberately flooded in 1965 in order to provide drinking water to homes in Liverpool.
Indeed, 81 years on, Epynt’s memory has faded – much like the names of its former residents etched on the weathered gravestones at the nearby 19th-century Capel y Babell.
That’s why a Facebook site was recently set up to ensure what happened on Epynt is never forgotten.
Atgofion Epynt – or Epynt Memories – was created by, among others, teacher Bethan Price, whose grandfather was just a teenager when the clearance took place.
“My grandfather, Iorwerth Davies, was born on Epynt and lived there until he was 16,” said the 34-year-old from Sennybridge.
“My great-grandmother – Iorwerth’s mum – always thought they’d go back though. She even left the key in the lock.”
It was not to be however. “A week later their sheep farm was knocked down to build a bridge,” said Bethan. “Iorwerth moved with his family to a new place in Carmarthenshire.
“He came back to the region eventually though – had a milk round in Brecon, ran a fish shop and opened a trekking centre. All sorts really.”
Now called the Sennybridge Training Area, or SENTA, Iorwerth’s former home is one of the largest military training zones in the UK.
Largely barren, save for a “ghost village” built in the Cilieni Valley in the 1980s and used by soldiers training to fight in built-up areas, Bethan described Epynt as having a spooky quality about it.
“When he was 82 my grandfather was the first person to ride around it on horseback after the Army opened the Epynt Way pass. I went with him – I was 17 at the time. That trail is about 50 miles long and it took us three days. I remember how seeing it felt quite strange and eerie.”
Some who’ve traversed the route since have spoken of hearing explosions or the crack of gunfire in the distance while spent smoke grenades and empty bullet casings are also a common find en route.
“The MoD (Ministry of Defence) sometimes organises the occasional tour around the land,” said Bethan.
“Grandad’s old place is now part of a firing range though. So it’s very rare that anyone’s able to go there.”
She added that the idea for the Facebook page came when she started compiling old photographs of the area during lockdown.
“I put out a request for more info and pictures and got a huge response,” she said. “I think we got 600 members in the first week alone. So there’s clearly lots of people for whom Epynt is still very important.”
You can find the Facebook p[age at www.facebook.com/groups/ 883563422064123