Second World War US airbases in East Anglia
Hundreds of US airmen flew – and perished on – missions from East Anglia in the Second World War. William Cook went to find out more
‘There’s a sad story behind every one of them, I’m afraid,’ says Peter Kindred, as he shows me the jagged lumps of fuselage in his intimate museum.
He points to a plaque on the wall, and I realise what he means. There are 742 names on it, commemorating 742 young American airmen who died flying missions from this airbase during the Second World War.
RAF Framlingham, now Parham Airfield Museum, is one of dozens of old bases in East Anglia that formed the front line in the Allies’ aerial war against Hitler’s Germany.
This story didn’t end on VE Day. East Anglia was on the front line throughout the Cold War. It’s still on the front line
today. RAF Marham, in Norfolk, is home to Britain’s new stealth fighters; RAF Lakenheath, in Suffolk, is home to America’s new F-35s.
Seventy-five years ago, just after D-day, these bases were a hive of activity as the USAAF flew countless missions in support of Allied ground forces pushing towards Berlin. Before D-day, USAAF bombers had been flying mainly daylight bombing raids over German cities. After D-day, their missions became more specialised. In July 1944, USAAF planes from Framlingham bombed German artillery positions in occupied France ahead of the Allied advance. That December, bombers based at Framlingham cut German supply lines, halting Hitler’s last desperate advance during the Battle of the Bulge.
These operations, replicated from bases all across East Anglia, were crucial to the Allied invasion of Nazi Germany. Without the USAAF presence in England, the course of the war might have been very different.
In this ever-changing landscape, there are as many endings as beginnings. The Americans are leaving RAF Alconbury and RAF Molesworth in nearby Cambridgeshire, and RAF Mildenhall here in Suffolk – bases whose histories stretch back to the advent of military aviation, a hundred years ago. Now, as America’s attention shifts, away from Europe towards the Pacific Rim, it’s a fitting time to revisit Suffolk, one of my favourite counties, to trace the tales of forgotten battles fought in the skies above.
Several factors made East Anglia ideal for military aviation. It’s flat, sparsely populated and, above all, close to Germany. RAF Framlingham, aka USAAF Station 153, was one of many airbases built in East Anglia to defend Britain against the Nazis. The story behind it, and Peter’s involvement in it, encapsulates the stormy history of this quiet corner of the country.
Peter Kindred was born in 1945, in Parham, a small, sleepy village right beside the base. His father, Percy, was a
farmer. In 1942, the government bought up much of Percy’s land (compulsory purchase at £10 an acre) and built this airbase for the Flying Fortresses of the 390th Bomb Group of the USAAF. Some 3,000 US airmen were billeted around the base.
‘We all looked forward to the time when the war would end but, when it did, and the last 390th Fortress lifted off from the main runway in June 1945, an awful feeling of emptiness and sadness came over me,’ recalled Percy. ‘As some of the crews waved goodbye to me from the waist gunners’ open window, I sat down on the perimeter track and wept.’
After the war, Percy bought back the land and restored it to its former use, but many of the old buildings remain, most notably the control tower, which now houses the museum. Maintained by local enthusiasts, and full of fascinating artefacts, it’s an evocative relic of that turbulent time. Since Percy died, in 1996, Peter has taken a leading role in its preservation, alongside a dedicated band of volunteers. More than any state-run museum, this labour of love sums up the special relationship East Anglia still enjoys with that generation of US airmen – those who survived, and those who died.
There are several other military aviation museums a short drive away. Rougham Airfield, near Bury St Edmunds, was home to the USAAF’S 94th and 322nd Bomb Group. The control tower, like the one at Parham, is now a museum. Unlike Parham, it’s still a functioning airfield today.
The most remarkable military aviation museum in East Anglia is hidden on the
top floor of the Guildhall in Bury St Edmunds. One of Britain’s oldest civic buildings, a town hall since the 12th century, this is hardly the sort of site you’d associate with the RAF. But during the Second World War, this ancient council chamber was converted into a Royal Observer Corps operations room – the only one that’s survived.
From this medieval attic, the RAF co-ordinated Britain’s battle for air supremacy against the Luftwaffe, relaying instructions and information to airfields all around East Anglia. The original maps and charts are still laid out across the tables – the war feels like recent news.
Bury St Edmunds is a splendid place, a bustling market town with a rich architectural heritage ranging from the Middle Ages to Art Deco. It’s been rather forgotten by the tourist trade, and it’s all the better for it. This is a working town, not a theme park. There’s lots to see and do: the ruined abbey is spectacular (dwarfing the cathedral beside it) and the grounds contain a lovely rose garden, established by an American airman called John Appleby, who came here with the 487th Bomb Group during the war.
Appleby was a night-time navigational instructor. Because the USAAF were engaged mainly on (more dangerous) daytime missions, he had time to cycle round Suffolk, doing brass rubbings in old churches. After the war, he wrote a charming memoir, Suffolk Summer. It’s been in print ever since, and he bequeathed the royalties to plant and nurture this peaceful haven. There’s a memorial here to his fallen comrades, and a bench made from the shiny silver wing of a Flying Fortress.
Appleby was stationed in Lavenham, one of the prettiest medieval villages in England. Among its several hundred listed buildings is the Swan, a halftimbered Tudor inn which became a wartime rendezvous for American and British airmen. Behind the bar was a glass ‘boot’ which held three and a half pints of beer, and a favourite pastime was to see who could drain it the fastest. The contestants’ names and times are written on the wall.
The winner was an RAF man, W H Culling, who in July 1940 drained the boot in 59 seconds, and then beat his own record a week later, draining it in 40 seconds. Lots of Americans tried to better him, but none came close. There are a great many other names on this wall, all inscribed by wartime airmen. The street outside has hardly changed. Munnings, a quaint tea shop a few doors away, serves a delicious cream tea.
I finished my journey in Woodbridge, my favourite town in Suffolk, a short drive away from Parham. The walks along the river are idyllic and the antique cinema divine. There are lots of independent shops, even a violin maker. I went swimming in the local pool. St Mary’s Church, up on the hill, has an intricate tapestry, made to celebrate the new millennium, charting this town’s long and lively history.
Flying Fortresses feature in the final panel, but what’s most striking is how many battles have been fought here since the Romans sailed up the River Deben. On a windswept hill, across the river, archaeologists at Sutton Hoo unearthed an Anglo-saxon treasure trove which had lain hidden for 1,300 years.
Maybe, 1,300 years from now, archaeologists will come here to dig up lumps of Flying Fortress fuselage. Will our world seem as distant to them as Sutton Hoo does to us today?
The Crown at Woodbridge (doubles from £110). Look out for the cartoon by Giles – a regular