Grimmer

Entrance to receiver site (pill box on RHS of photo), and entrance to transmitter site.

Unfortunately the transmitter building's that remain are all on private property so these were the best shot's I could get. They were against the light with my 300mm lens, think I need to take the old pro Snapper along and get him to whip out his big one!

Photographs of a couple of pill box's on the site. The one with reinforcing bars sticking out of the roof is at the entrance to the receiver site, it use to have a brick structure on the top, similar to the one that remains on top of the other pill box which is close to the transmitter site. There were once 22 pill box's protecting this important site and I've read that 11 still survive however, I could only see 4, that said I was exploring the site on crutches so I plan to return when I'm fully mobile.

Thought you might like to read about a Radar Station I've discovered close to my home in Rochford, Essex. This radar site (Air Ministry Experimental Station Type 1) was sited on the edge of Canewdon village, it was the fourth to be built in Britain. The site comprised both a Receiving and Transmission site with four masts on each. One of it’s first operational tasks was to track Prime Minister Neville Chamberlain’s flight to Munich in September 1938. Radar (Radio Direction and Ranging), which was to play such an important part in the defence of Britain during the Second World War, was developed amid great secrecy in the latter half of the 1930’s. The site at Canewdon, completed in 1938, was one of the first to be established, along with Bawdsey, Great Bromley, Dunkirk (Kent) and Dover. By the outbreak of war in September 1939 it formed part of a network of 20 such ‘Chain Home’ stations protecting the east coast of Britain, stretching from Scotland to the Isle-of-Wight. The station was split into two halves, the Receiver Site, with four 240 foot timber towers, located north of Lambourne Hall Road, and the Transmitter Site, with four 350 foot steel towers, south of Gardeners Lane. The layout of the Receiver Site can be partly determined from an aerial photograph taken in June 1960. The entrance was off Lambourne Hall Road between a pillbox, and a house, “Wild Winds”, both of which still survive. This led to a large L-shaped tract of land on the brow of the hill overlooking the valley of the River Crouch to the north. Approximately six buildings can be made out dotted across the site. In the centre is a large, rectangular, flat-roofed building, semi-sunken with a blast wall. This was undoubtedly the Receiver Block. Unfortunately not too much of the original radar station remains, the receiver site has been completely cleared and the site is now an open field. No one would ever know that momentous events were once tracked from here. Three hundred yards to the south, the bunkers which held the transmitters are still there. The huge 360 ft steel towers are gone, although their base plates remain. Interestingly, one of the towers did escape the oxy-acetylene cutter. It was moved to Marconi at Great Baddow in the 1950s and now stands high above the Chelmsford skyline. Hopefully I'll load up some photographs of what remians.

Thanks for posting the pics, looks like the weather was dreadful but from my own visits to the Ypres Salient, I know it does bring a certain reality to the situation, you can appreciate just how awful it must have been 90 years ago, if you don't believe, try walking across a farmers field after heavy rain and you'll soon have two balls of mud the size of footballs hanging off your boots. John B.

So many happy memories, just throught you might like to see a shot of the great man in action. JB

Hi Jack, Perhaps you know it better as a horse chestnut? Regards, John.

Today we were going to do something that most men wanted to do 90 years ago, go home to Blighty. We awoke to a very grey overcast morning which it reflected the mood of many of us who really didn’t want this trip to end, as someone who has visited this area many times in the past, this trip exceeded my expectations, several times over. Fortunately we still had some interesting places to visit before the long journey home. First stop of the day was at the Scottish Memorial on the Frezenburg Ridge, the objective of Cecil Cattell in 1915 (see day two log for details). This is an unusual memorial as it doesn’t commemorate one regiment, division etc, but all people of Scottish origin who died in the Great War. It is placed near the area where many Scottish Divisions fought during the battle of Passendaele in 1917 and you get a great view over the battlefields. One of the advantages of visiting the Ypres Salient is that you’re never more than 20 minutes drive to your next stop, so in no time at all we were at Railway Wood to visit the RE Cemetery which is unique on the Weston Front as there are no graves stones, just a central cross of sacrifice with the names of 8 Tunnellers and 4 infantry men who were killed whilst tunneling under the hill and whose bodies remain where they died. Also nearby is a memorial to the Liverpool Scottish whose most famous soldier has to be Noel Chavasse, who was awarded the MC for an action in the wood nearby before going on to be awarded two VC’s, unfortunately the second was postumious which leads us onto the next stop of the day. The grave of Noel Chavesse is unique in any military cemetery as it is the only one to have two Vitoria Cross’s engraved on the headstone, understandably it is also one of the most visited. He lies buried in Brandhoek New Military Cemetery close to where he died at No. 36 dressing station. It was in this cemetery that we laid a wreath in remembrance of those who died in the Great War, and the honour fell to Ali Holllington who is currently researching the history of the RAMC for a degree. On route to the cemetery, our guide Iain pointed out a double roofed building which is a local brewery, an interesting in its own right, but also because it has the engine from a First World War Tank in the roof which operates a winch to get the hops etc into the building. It was then off to visit a grave I’ve wanted to see for sometime, that of George Davies, the “original” Peter Pan who lies buried in Voormezeele Enc Cemetery No.3. James Barrie befriended the Davies children and told them stories in which they featured and George was Peter Pan. It seems somehow prophetic that like Peter, George would never grow old. It now being lunchtime we made our way back to the same café where we’d meet Harry Patch a few day’s earlier near Polygon Wood for an excellent baguette lunch. The chap who runs it is called Johan Vandewalle, his nickname being “The Vampire”, just ask him the take his false teeth out and you’ll see why! Johan is a fascinating guy to talk to, he’s explored 19 dugouts and been involved in several archaeological digs, the most recent being the discovery of 5 Australians buried under a road near his cafe. When excavating the bodies, he found one of them wrapped in a waterproof sheet and when he removed it, he discovered that the body was extremely well preserved, to such an extent that the eyeballs were preserved in their sockets. At this point, the sun came out and the light reflected off them and for a brief moment, they appeared bright and lifelike, quite spooky I’m sure you’ll agree. Thankfully Johan took some photographs of this extraordinary event which he’s happy to share with you. What is also remarkable it that there was enough of the Australian preserved to get a good sample of his DNA which was used to identify him as John Hunter. When he died, his brother retrieved his body from no-mans-land and wrapped him in the sheet that preserved him so well and allowed him to be identified 90 years later. If you want to visit the grave of John he’s buried along with the other 5 Australians in Polygon Wood Cemetery. The trip was almost over and we had one last stop to make, which was to visit what has to be one of the most beautiful cemeteries on the Western Front i.e. Bedford House Cemetery. By now the sun had burnt through the clouds and it was a warm and sunny afternoon. There was a sense of weary satisfaction that apart from the problems of the first day, all had gone to plan and that everyone had a great time. For me, there was one more grave I had to visit, that of Herbert Dudley, another of the old boys from Southend High School for Boys. I’d visited this grave earlier in year but this time it was different, now he was not just a name on a headstone or the roll of honour board, now I knew who he was, where he lived, who he loved and thanks to the fact that he was editor of the school magazine, how he felt about the war. I don’t know if it was just fatigue but I found myself unable to control my emotions, I just had to leave the group for a while and get myself together. It was whilst walking under a horse chestnut tree that a strange thing happened, a conker fell hit me on the forehead which perversely made me smile, I think it was Herbert’s way of saying “pull yourself together man”. I still have that conker. I think I’ll end my diary with a poem that Herbert wrote in remembrance of his friends who made the supreme sacrifice. In Memoriam “Sed Miles, sed pro patria.” “No greater love hath man,” thus saith our lord, “Than for a friend that he lay down his life.” So have ye offered up yourself in strife, For right of friend and truth of plighted word. Though sons of Peace, and loving not the sword, Ye yet at Duty’s call braved carnage rife, And dauntless bared the breast to meat the knife, Where blood to cleanse a nation was outpoured. On distant soil fond hopes were crucified, But faith restrains our passion and our tears, Declaring “With God’s heroes live they still.” O, not in vain, brave souls, ye lived and died, For great you service here, though few your years, And great your task hereafter for God’s will. H. E. Dudley 1896-1917

The cafe was rebuilt about a year ago, does a great coffee and the meals are good value but the old pics and artifacts have all but gone.

Unfortunately the heavy mist took a little longer to lift today which made it very difficult to appreciate the landscape of the battlefields, but it made for some atmospheric photographs. We started the day at one of my favourite sites in the Ypres Salient i.e. Hill 60, the scene of considerable devastation and bloodshed that still scares the landscape to this day. Hill 60 is actually a manmade hill being spoil from the nearby railway cutting. There are some interesting memorials and pill box’s on the site which are well worth a visit. It was close to one of these that our guide Iain McHenry related the story of how Edward Dwyer of 1st East Surry Regiment won the VC here on 20 April 1915 at only 19 years of age. Unfortunately he did not to survive the war being killed at Guillemont on the Somme and now lies buried in Flat Iron Copse Cemetery. Before he was killed, Edward made a recording of his experiences in the Great War, if you haven’t heard it follow this link:- http://www.firstworldwar.com/audio/Sergeant%20E%20Dwyer%20VC%20-%20With%20Our%20Boys%20At%20The%20Front.mp3 Just over the railway bridge from Hill 60 lies Caterpillar Crater which has only recently been opened to the public. This picturesque site is hidden away down a little path, and in the middle of a small copse of trees called Battle Wood. By now the sun was just beginning to break through which made for some great pics (see below). It’s well worth a walk around the crater and on the way back, you can visit a small German bunker, one of the few not to be blown sky high when the mine exploded. It was then a short coach ride to another crater & bunker, this time at St Eloi. Unfortunately this is on private land but Iain had negotiated for us to have access to the site which was quite picturesque including a boat house, ducks, reeds etc, difficult to believe the carnage here 90 years ago, the only real give-away being the British bunker next to which there was a walnut tree so much of the time was spent crunching away on fresh nuts, all very tasty. On the way back I spotted a fine red Toadstool so took a picture of it for Snappers collection of “Fungus Foto’s” It was now lunchtime so off we went to see Charlotte at Varlot Farm for the best lunch of the trip, you just couldn’t empty the plate, whenever you did so alone came another platter of meat/cheese/pate etc. I can also recommend the homemade strawberry jam, absolutely delicious. If you visit Varlot Farm the one thing you can be assured of is a very warm welcome, her English is excellent and she is very happy to show you her collection of First World War artefacts that have been dug up at the farm, she’s also happy to tell you about the actions to recapture the farm from the Germans by the British, she really knows her stuff. The last stop of the day was at TyneCotCemetery, a place I’m sure many of you have been to be before so I don’t need to emphasize how big it is, other than to say it’s the largest CWGC cemetery in the world. On the day we visited it was full of Australian schoolgirls. Prior to their visit they had been given the task of researching one of the men who had been killed and now they were paying their personal tributes to them, many were in tears and it was quite a moving scene, who say’s the younger generation don’t care about history? Our guide pointed out an intersting grave, that of W. Bennett of the Lancashire Fusilers who was buried in the Cemetery on 4th June last year following the discovery of his remains on a footpath close to the cemetery. After paying our respects we gathered around the wall of sacrifice to hear our resident “Tommy” read out the last letter home of Private Albert Ford, all very moving. An interesting postscript to our visit to Tyne Cot is that a few days after we returned to Blighty, our leader received a call from Iain to say that he was with a lady from a new tour party who had approached him to say that she was looking for her grandfather’s name on the wall. He asked her what regiment he had served with and, when she replied “The Royal Warwickshire”, he spontaneously asked “his name wasn’t Albert Ford was it?” You can guess her reply!!! There are 34,862 soldiers named on the memorial who have no known grave, and yet, of all those names, Iain takes two consecutive tour parties there to remember the same man! The day was not quite over as we had arranged to meet under the Menin Gate to hear the last post being sounded, as it always is at 8:00pm every night, 365 days of the year. I always find it a very moving experience but tonight was to be particularly memorable. When we meet with Harry Patch yesterday, we had been tipped off that if he was feeling up to it, he would be at the ceremony tonight to read out the elegy and so it was, at a few minutes before 8 that the Master of Ceremonies introduced Harry and be was wheeled in to the delight of all present. We’ve all heard those words spoken with such emotion, but when it comes from someone who truly understands there meaning, it is something very special. I just hope that I’m not one of the last people to see Harry Patch at the Menin Gate and that you all get the opportunity to do the same. Also at the Menin Gate were the Australian Schoolgirl’s, one of whom sang "Australia Fair" flawlessly, there wasn’t a dry eye in the house. Afterwards we all trouped off to the Dan Anker restaurant in the square for an group dinner where the food was excellent and the wine flowed freely, a great way to end a great day.

That's the chap, as you say, very nice fellow.

His name is Trevor, not sure of his surname but he's a member of the Southend branch of the WFA who's into dressing up in WW1 Stuff.

Day two dawned and it was a beautiful morning, not a cloud in the sky and the early morning mist had lifted revealing an ideal day for battlefield touring. I thought today would be a day to remember, but I didn’t know then just how memorable it would be, not just because of the interesting places we visited exploring the battlefields of 1st & 2nd Ypres, but because our guide had arranged a surprise meeting with a very special person, and I’m not talking about the wife! We started the day by visiting the Guards Memorial at Zantvoorde which marks the spot where Lord Charles Sackville Pelham Worsley was buried by the Germans after he and the rest of C Squadron of the Household Cavalry made a last stand on the 30th of October 1914. They did not receive an order to withdraw and being cut off, they fought to the last man rather than surrender. The Germans made a plan of where he was buried and in December 1918, his grave was located by a British Officer and he was later exhumed and reburied with his comrades in the Town Cemetery in Ypres. Next stop was the military cemetery in Zantvoorde which is very close to the front line of 1914 and was where we received a talk by our excellent guide Iain McHenry on the early stages of the 1st Battle of Ypres. This is an interesting cemetery as it also contains the graves of two VC winners, Captain Brooke & Serjeant McGuffie. I’ve read about Gheluvelt many times but this was my first visit, a pretty town that was busy setting up for some kind of street festival and when we arrived, they had “Euro pop” music blaring out which seemed somehow inappropriate but after some consideration, I guess this is what these guys fought for 90 years ago. Gheluvelt is famous for a stand here by the 1st South Wales Borderers and the 2nd Worcesters in October 1914, a stand which is commemorated by two memorials on the site of the old mill. Next up was meant to be a visit to the Town Cemetery in Ypres to see the grave of Lord Worsley and other dignitaries such as Prince Maurice when our guide received a call to say that Harry Patch was in a local café near polygon wood and that we was happy to meet us all, I couldn't’t believe my ears, I was going to meet the last surviving Tommy to fight on the Western Front, and just around the corner from where he fought at the Battle of Passendaele as a machine gunner with the DCLI. As we didn’t want to risk being late meeting up with Harry, we diverted to the cemetery at Hooge, which has just been re-laid in parts as it’s starting to collapse due to it being built over a bunker complex. It was in the cemetery that Iain told us a funny story about the explosive used at hooge crater. They decided to use ammonol for the first time as it had 3.5 times the lifting power of gunpowder and although the C.O. a Major Cowan wasn't sure how much to use, he decided that 3,500 lbs should do it so ordered it from the quartermaster. When the request was received, the QM wasn't sure if it was a drug or an explosive so he passed the enquiry to his Camp Commandant who in turn asked the MO, he replied that ammonal was a sedative used in America to suppress abnormal sexual excitement which resulted in questions being asked of Major Cowan as to why he wanted so much! They had confused ammonal with ammonol. We then had a nice lunch at the café opposite followed by a visit around the museum next door. If you’ve not been this is an excellent museum and I can highly recommend a visit but you’ll have to be quick, it’s closing next year due to the café being put up for sale. So off we went to Johan’s café near Polygon Wood to meet the great man, I felt like an 8 year old boy on Christmas Eve and there was a buzz of excitement on the coach, obviously I wasn’t the only one who felt like this. For me, meeting Harry was a very moving experience, shaking hands with someone 110 years old and who fought just a few miles away left me feeling emotionally effected, he was a gracious and sweet old man who had time for everyone and when people thanked him for what he’d done he replied with a simple “That’s OK”. Next up it was off to St. Julian and the Canadian Memorial which commemorates those killed during the first use of gas on the western front. The memorial of a soldier with reverse arms was actually runner up in the competition to design the memorial for Vimy Ridge but this is an impressive stature and deserves a visit it’s own right. It was also in St. Julian that another of the old boys of Southend High for Boys was killed. His name was Paul Hilleard, a talented sportsman who played cricket for Essex Cricket Club shortly before the war. My sister read out the following letter which was received by the family following his death. “We had finished an eight day spell in the trenches to the N.E. of Ypres and had retired to our former field containing open dug-outs and rested one night. Next morning many French and Canadian troops passed by in disorderly groups having been forced by gas fumes to flee. The order came to stand to and after lunch our Battalion received orders to go up and support the Suffolks in a big attack. This we did in extended order, as it was daylight. A machine played upon us apart from shrapnel and shell fire above and Paul fell saying ‘Arthur I’m hit’. I was ordered to go on with the rest but ran back to pull him into a less dangerous spot. To our delight we found the bullets had merely grazed the skin and got just through the edge of his right hand trouser pocket! Consequently we both caught up our company (which by now had separated from the Battalion and had also passed the Suffolk’s, who were pack loaded) and took possession of an empty trench, only to find the Germans creeping along it from our left. They got another wretched machine gun to play, enfilade fashion, upon us and poor Paul was shot through the eye. He died instantly without any pain whatsoever. We cleared out the enemy with the help of the Suffolk’s but had to relinquish the position at midnight, owing to insufficient men (38 out of well over 100). There was just time, however to see to burying and we laid your son to rest, together with many another poor “Ranger”. There are not many bunkers left from the first world war in the Ypres Salient but Cheddar Gorge has to be one of the most impressive, unfortunately it’s on private ground and you can only the back of it from the road however, our guides excellent contacts meant that we gained privilege access to view the front which as you can see from the picture, looks quite similar to those on the Normandy Beaches. The last stop of the day was a particularly emotional one for me, it was the site of where the Essex Yeomanry made its fateful attack on 12th May 1915 during the 2nd Battle of Ypres trying to take the Frezenburg Ridge. One of “Men” taking part in the attack was a “Boy” named Cecil Cattell who was the youngest of the Southend Old Boys to die at only 16 yrs & 5 mths. During my research I made contact with his family who kindly shared his letters and photo’s so we have a pretty complete picture of what happened to Cecil during his brief time in the Army. We stopped along the Cambridge Road and various members of the branch read out his letters and reports into the action which really brought it all to life and left me unable to talk, something that “Snapper” Barnes will find hard to believe. And so it was with a tear in the eye and a lump in the throat that we returned to the hotel for a well earned beer and time to reflect on an extraordinary day’s battlefield touring. On a lighter note, our guide pointed out that the “Bar” next to the hotel which is called “Engels” is actually a brothel and best avoided, at that point the coach turned the corner and there was a queue of smartly dressed lads lined up outside (obviously members of her majesties forces), which brought a cheer from everyone on the coach, something’s never change.

I'm a virgin at this sort of thing so please be gentle with me, I hope I'm posting this in the right place. All I need to do now is work out how to load up some photos. If I get any response to this posting I'll continue with day two. I’ve just returned from a long weekend in the Ypres Salient with the Southend branch of the Western Front Association and thought you might be interested to read about what we got up to. Unfortunately the day didn’t start too well, usual assortment of issues such as “Oh, I forgot my passport” and “Dam, I’ve just realised I have my wife’s passport” etc thankfully our leader had left time for such events however, he couldn’t take into account the inefficiencies of P&O who announced the ferries were running an hour & a half late! With time to kill we headed off to the terminal building for the worst breakfast of my life at Burger King, beats me how they can make bacon, sausage & egg in a soggy cardboard bun so tasteless. At last we boarded the ferry and were on our way, the sea was calm and so it was an uneventful journey, plenty of time to think about the poor soldiers 90+ years ago who made the same journey but were never to return to the tranquil shores of blighty. We were now running about two hours behind schedule but our leader decided that as we were all hardcore battlefield tourists, we would continue as planned. Our first stop was Poperinge, a pretty little town which was a favourite place for the troops to go on leave with it’s many bars & brothels (red light for the rankers, blue light for the officers) and an establishment called Talbot House which was our first port of call (The brothels are now closed, shame). TOC H as it became known was started by a preacher named Tubby Clayton with the aim of providing a place of sanctuary for all, regardless of rank, where they could relax and enjoy a walk in the garden or games in the lounge and enjoy that particularly British pastime of enjoying a cup of tea in the study. The most moving part of the visit was a walk around the small chapel built in the loft where many a solider received a last blessing before going to the front, many never to return. Next stop was a place I’ve tried to visit several times but it was always closed, somewhere the troops understandably dreaded, the cells where prisoners were held prior to being shot at dawn. It must have been a terrible place to be kept a prisoner, not only because of the obvious fate that was awaiting you, but also because of its close proximity to the main square where no doubt you could hear your comrades in arms enjoying a night on the town whilst you were trying to make peace with your maker before making the short walk to the execution post in the courtyard. Next up was a visit to the town cemetery where these tortured souls lie buried. During one of my previous visits a noticed in the cemetery register that someone had written the word “Coward” against the names of the men who were shot at dawn, I’ll let you decide what kind of person would do such a thing. I’m pleased to say the register has now been replaced. Also buried here are many of the men who died as a result of the first use of gas by the Germans at St. Julien during the Second Battle of Ypres in 1915, as I said, there are some tortured souls lying buried in this cemetery. My personal reason for visiting this cemetery was to see the grave of Ernest Austing, an old boy of Southend High School for boys who went to France in mid March 1915 with the 47th (London) Division and took part in the action in the Ypres salient in the spring of 1917. Ernest died in the area of Messines Ridge where the attacking phase of a major battle commenced on the 6th June. The artillery bombardment for this had started on the 1st, and poor Ernest would have got very little sleep in the last week of his life in spite of his having a medical role. He died on 5th June 1917 and the war diary confirms their position in the region of Zillebeke and they were planning for active operations against Wytschaete and Messines positions, but unfortunately the vital pages for the beginning of June are missing from the diary so we cannot be sure what happened in those few days. The last stop of the day was to another cemetery, Canada Farm where a Captain Wedd lies buried. He was the eldest son of Mr Edward Arthur Wedd J.P. of Whitehall, Great Wakering. He was born at Great Wakering and was educated at Mr Foster's School, Stubbington, Cheltenham College, and Caius College, Cambridge. In 1905 he rowed for Cambridge against Oxford in the University Boat Race. On leaving university he joined the Essex Yeomanry and held several medical appointments at St. Bartholemew's Hospital, London and elsewhere. In November 1914 he went to France with his regiment, and held a staff appointment for fifteen months, transferring to the Royal Army Medical Corps in 1917. In January 1916 he was mentioned in dispatches, and in April 1918 was awarded the Military Cross. On 13th July 1918 he was killed by a stray shell at Ypres while motor-cycling to tend some wounded at a casualty clearing station. With the sun setting over the cemetery we made a rapid advance to our hotel in Ypres where our excellent tour guide Iain McHenry was waiting to make a short overview of how the Ypres salient was formed, before making our way to The White Goose for one of their infamous kebabs washed down by copious amounts of beer.

Greatings all, at last I've got round to joining in the fun, hope you enjoyed the pics. For those of you who are geocachers, you can visit the crash site by visiting cache reference GCP6EP. It was a pretty grim day when Mrs. Grimmer & I started out on the walk but pleased to say the clouds had cleared somewhat by the time we reached the site. Although the GPS shows it's only 2km from the nearest road, it's also 2km straight up and Mrs. Grimmer was not to impressed by the straight up bit! Never mind we had a hearty meal of haggis neaps & tatties and all was well. This is a very special place to visit, I was quite moved and spent several minutes just sitting on a rock surveying the site and pondering what must have been going through those young men's minds as the mountain loomed into site, all quite horrific.