Posts Tagged ‘Other Coastal Defences’

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At the outbreak of World War II, the Port of London was the busiest port in the world. As such, a large proportion of supplies to the UK entered by ships navigating the Thames. The German Navy quickly sought to put a stranglehold on this route, and to this end, utilised a new secret weapon – the magnetic influence mine. Whilst there were different variants of this mine, in simplistic terms, the mine was detonated by the presence of a large magnetic object – such as a steel hulled ship – passing in close proximity, without having to make physical contact. So successful was this that in the first few months of the war, over one hundred ships were sunk in the Thames Estuary alone. It was clear that urgent action was needed to stem these losses, and as most mines were laid by aircraft, ships were requisitioned and used as mobile anti aircraft units. However, this was not altogether successful, and a more satisfactory solution was needed.In the early years of the war, Guy Maunsell, a civil engineer, had produced plans for offshore defences.

At the time his ideas were considered somewhat eccentric, but he was asked to submit plans for an offshore fort as an effective means of dealing with the laying of the mines. Plans were drawn up, and after some modification, approval was given for the manufacture and installation of four offshore forts. These were of mainly reinforced concrete construction, built on land on a lozenge shaped reinforced base, and towed out to sea where they were sunk onto the seabed.

The source for this blog post

Each fort accommodated approximately 120 men, housed mainly within seven floors of the 24’ diameter twin reinforced concrete legs and were under the control of the Navy. They were all placed in position between six and twelve miles offshore between February and June, 1942 and became operational immediately. Each fort accommodated up to 265 men.

war

After the war the forts were placed on ‘care and maintenance’. However as the need for their continued use diminished, they were abandoned, and the guns removed from the Army forts, in 1956.The Nore fort was dismantled in 1959 being considered a hazard to shipping (two towers were lost following a collision in 1953 whilst another in 1963). In 1964, Radio Caroline began broadcasting from a ship moored outside UK Territorial Waters.

Four of the forts survive, abandoned since they were decommissioned in the 1950s. Each played host to pirate radio stations in the 1960s. Since this time, Roughs has been occupied by the founder of Radio Essex, Roy Bates, who in 1967 declared the fort an independent state: The Principality of Sealand. Its independence is not recognised and as with all the Maunsell forts, it is still considered UK territory (though this is often disputed). In 2007, there was talk of The Pirate Bay relocating to Roughs, in a bid to take advantage of its disputed territory claim and get around toughened copyright law in Sweden. This fell through. The plans can be seen below. (Right click image then select open in new tab to enlarge the picture)

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Today, Redsand Fort as the only complete structure as built in wartime is the focus of attention by Project Redsand, a group of enthusiasts with the aim of reinstating the Fort to its original built condition. Having had an underwater survey carried out by the Port of London Authority at a cost of around £5,000, work has progressed to installing a new access system to the G1 tower thanks to the generosity of Mowlem Marine (now Carillion) of Northfleet. Built at a cost of approximately £40,000, the access system enables project members to board the tower to commence restoration. The BTP Boys hope to venture out one day!

Useful Websites:

Project Redsand - http://www.project-redsand.com/index.htm

Maunsell Forts - http://log.doggerland.net/2011/02/23/maunsell-forts/

1943 Pictures - https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.355003671221371.102739.100281160026958&type=3

Thursday 31st January 2013 marks 60 long years since Canvey Island was hit by an abnormal storm causing mass flooding and damage to many many people’s property and lives. The horrific event terrorised Canvey however the whole of the Essex coast was affected as well as other places.

Canvey+Island,+Essex

Saturday 31st January 1953 began in Essex like any other mid-winter Saturday, however the outcome was a surprising revelation for everyone… On Canvey the new memorial hall, gaily bedecked with bunting, was publicly dedicated in the afternoon to the memory of local men who lost their lives in the Second World War. On the mainland opposite Canvey, caretakers and cleaners gave the new Benfleet secondary school in Shipwrights Drive, sometimes referred to locally as ‘The Palace’, the final polish for its official opening. At 11pm at Tewkes Creek the wind was fresh, cold and fierce. Shortly before midnight, one or two nightfarers, who was a Roman Catholic Priest who was old visiting a sick parishioner. In the bright moonlight he saw the tide lapping the top of the wall. In the Sunken Marsh a river board employee who lived nearby realised that the tide was rising rapidly. At might night, the chilling water was closing in on the whole of the Essex coast. Flooding in varying degrees had begun, and was spreading as the tide continued its inexorable rise and overwhelmed the defences on an ever-lengthening front which the weight, height and duration of its attack.  At this time, just before 1am, dykes were starting to overflow and the electricity board has received a report of a fault on Canvey due to flooding. At 12:50am, the water was at the top of the wall at Smallgains, this section in fact has recently been raised and thickened and was about a foot and a half higher that the wall at Tewkes Creek. One of the river board’s men was blowing his whistle, which echoed in the howling wind. This was just gone 1am. A few minutes after this, the chairman had rung the police station to tell the sergeant that the flood boards at Canvey Bridge had been overtopped. The Police sergeant met a constable out on a bicycle patrol who was about to telephone the police station because although the tide the water was still a foot below the top of the wall, it was extremely high for the stage of the tide.

1am February 1st - Meanwhile, at the Newlands, the 2 river board men and a group of gathered dedicated citizens tried to rouse the elderly and the young. Stumbling in the moonlight across the muddy rutty unmade roads, up and down garden paths then went knocking, shouting and even one screeching at his whistle as a last attempt to save fellow Islanders. With the howling noise of the wind, corrugated roofs, wrought iron gates and loose shed doors it was a difficult task to stir residents.  However many people had no warning and were awakened by the sudden roar as the wall burst, by the swish of the water as it rushed past, by the clatter and crash of the debris striking the house, by the noise of splitting timber and smashing glass. Half-awake, dazed and bewildered, as they struggled to escape from this violent, engulfing nightmare, to reach the outdoor staircases to their lofts, or to fight their way through the tumult outside, to go to the aid of elderly relatives or neighbours living nearby, successive waves charging through the walls swept them off the feet, breathless and numb from the icy impact. The margin between life and death was a matter of seconds as the water gushed through shattered windows and doors, and, impounded as it was in the Sunken Marsh by the inland counter wall, with no means of dispersal; it rose rapidly to a lethal depth.

Many who clambered on chairs, tables, cookers, mangled-tables and step-ladders, to keep their heads above the water or to make holes in the flimsy ceilings in order to escape into the roof space or out onto the roof, found their supports swept away from under their feet, leaving them fighting in the dark with floating furniture, clutching desperately at fanlights and the tops of doors and wardrobes, and trying to hold children up above the suffocating water. The Sunken Marsh was well described as a ‘basin of death’… By 1:25am the water was above windowsill level at the Newlands end of the Sunken Marsh, and, over topping the counter wall, was already pouring over it into the low ground between the counter wall and the High Street.

Have lessons been learnt though?

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This is just a little bit of what happened on that awful night. Liam and I are in the process of filming a documentary DVD to commemorate those that died and also the people that were affected by the floods. We are attending several events to pay our respects and also to film. If you have a story on the floods or know someone that does, we would be greatful if you would share it with us.

Almost a week after Remembrance Sunday, we can take a look at those who are usually forgotten, for they did not actually give their lives to fighting in wars. However, they did put themselves up to defend Great Britain, and it was very certain that they wouldn’t survive had the call to duty arisen. We are of course talking about The Royal Observer Corps in the Cold War, and The Home Guard in the Second World War.

The Royal Observer Corps

Established in 1925, the ROC were local volunteers tasked with keeping a watchful eye on the country’s skies. Through to WW2, it was their job to observe Britain’s airspace and spot/identify any enemy aircraft coming over. They would be based in ROC posts, at this time usually square brick constructions with an open roof to spot planes, zeppelins etc. They operated keeping a watch over bombers during the Blitz, fighters in the Battle of Britain, and possibly invading gliders containing German troops had an invasion occurred. In the Cold War, from 1945-1991, their job involved greater danger. If a nuclear attack on Britain or the US was deemed imminent, it was the ROC’s role of not only to observe Soviet aircraft from ‘orlit’ ROC posts, which would have been a dangerous job exposed to radioactivity (this was a less common task however), but dominantly to live in small and confined nuclear-proof ROC monitoring posts, classic ‘nuclear bunkers’, yet only around a room in size. They were placed around 14-foot underground, and would hold a handful of people. They would have worked in local groups and would have had a post to work in each. They would use specialist equipment to observe the nuclear war which would have been destroying the world as we know it outside, and report back via radio to larger underground headquarters.. Their supplies would have been limited, and they would have had to change a ‘Ground-Zero Indicator’, a pinhole camera which would have record nuclear blasts onto graph film. It was located just next to the post hatch, and having to change it once or twice a day would have let in radioactive material, and would have exposed the inhabitants too. In other words, if you were not killed previously by nuclear bombing, or starvation in an ROC post, then radiation would have had its effects on the body and would likely have killed you soon after. Wikipedia describes the task as a ‘suicide mission . Fortunately  this war never did materialize  although in 1962 the Cuban Missile Crisis almost did result in a nuclear exchange. what did happen though, was that many of Britain’s public volunteered to leave their family, safety, and lives, in case a nuclear war broke out. The ROC folded in 1996.

Images not courtesy of Beyond the Point

The Home Guard

Originally called the ‘Local Defence Volunteers’, the Home Guard were tasked with defending Britain from Nazi German conquest from 1940 to 1945. Like the ROC, the Home Guard were local volunteers who were usually older or younger than to fight in the main theatre. These 1.5 million, nicknamed ‘Dad’s Army’ due to their age, were a secondary defense force to the British troops fighting on the front-line. They mainly guarded coastal areas of Britain  and would have used everything from tank traps to improvised explosives to weaken Jerry as he was expected to arrive. It was however known that the Home Guard would eventually be outmatched, and be put to slavery or death if found. Receiving training every now and then in the local vicinity, the HG were given mostly American weaponry in the early war, later upgraded to the armaments of the British Army. This was due to Britain financial struggle. Although invasion never occurred, the quantity of pillboxes built and remaining across Britain, playing an active role in the landscape even this 70 years later, show the importance and inevitability of invasion. If this did happen, the Home Guard would have put their lives in grievous danger directly for their own country. They too would have had to leave their families, probably not even meeting again.

Image not courtesy of Beyond the Point

Of course, the same situation was taken up by numerous other groups across wartime history, and this is a tribute to them all.

Hello everyone! This visit was a good one for BTP Liam and I and we got some good pictures too! The battery is located just half a mile away from Coalhouse Fort, in East Tilbury. The battery was constructed in 1887-93 and supplemented Coalhouse Fort as part of the Thames’ coastal defence system. It housed six 10 and 6 inch long range firing weapons, mounted on disappearing carriages. There was two six-pdr guns on the left and right most sides, and two heavy 10-pdr guns in the middle. The battery was quite innovative in that it used the new method of hoisting rounds up to the guns from underground tunnels, and it was also aimed down the Thames and not across it, signalling the advancement in range and accuracy that rifled breech-loading guns had, being able to shoot further than simply across the river. Another innovation was that a simple non-climbable spiked metal fence was used to secure its perimeter, rather than moats and ditches seen in Coalhouse Fort itself, and castles from as far back as 1,000 years ago.

The BTP boys in the first bit of the battery!

The battery was decommissioned in 1913 and later sold to a local farmer for £1200 in 1930. He used it as an unofficial air raid shelter during the second world war. The emplacements and magazines beneath are still extant as are some casemated barrack rooms and other buildings. The present condition of the battery is very good, with many original stenciled signs still remaining in the underground parts although the whole site is heavily overgrown, making locating the various features very difficult. Today the battery still contains old magazines and emplacements. Original stenciled signs are still clearly visible within the tunnels and the barrack rooms. According to ‘Essex Ghost Hunters’ footsteps have been seen in the tunnel (ghosts)….

Exterior of the first room

Something we found in the first room. Maybe part of a chimney?

Getting into the battery was easy but finding our way around wasn’t quite as easy!

This is one of ‘sets’ of tunnels. This was one of 3 of the ammunition stores.

BTP Liam ready for action!

This is one of the bits of original signs that still exist.

Another example.

This one 1 of the 2 larger lifts.

Another set of tunnels

Peace……or so he says ;)

Another one of the lifts

A fireplace in a guard building or something similar at the entrance.

Entrance to one of the turrets

Inside

You can view our Facebook photos here.

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A few weeks back we headed up toward the new Sadler’s Farm upgrade, and turned off to the road which leads to St. Margaret’s Church, a more country lane. After exploring a few fences, we managed to get where we needed to be to visit the numerous pillboxes.

The first field backed straight on to the main farm buildings, which for that reason contained a good-condition pillbox clearly kept well by the farmer, and from the inquisitive members of the public (except us of course!). It was mounted on a concrete platform, and was brick-faced due to the moulding process which would have used bricks rather than wooden strips (causes the lines in concrete ones from where the concrete seeps between cement). It was a Type 26 (square with four standard loop-holes) and features a blast-wall protecting the entrance. This one however din’t have a loop on the entrance face of the pillbox, so only had three. It also featured an air-vent hole on-top through the ceiling to let out bad air produced from the firing of the guns inside.

A view from the field

Looking between the blast and entrance walls

Us posing inside!

We then painstaking (yes it was literally quite painful too) squeezed under a barbed wire fence and some thorn bushes into the next field west, we’re we found a large Type 28 pillbox. These pillboxes differed from the rest as they were designed as fortified anti-tank positions, with a large stepped loophole big enough to fit a 2-Pounder large gun, which was mounted with a shield across it’s front, and fired large 40mm (diameter of bullet) caliber rounds designed to pierce tank armour. It also features many standard loop holes for light-machine guns or rifles (there was a dividing wall in the pillbox which separated some normal loop-holes front he big gun loop-hole. Note how stepped-sides of loop-holes are to make incoming bullets deflect outwards and not inwards onto the crew. Sandbags would have been placed around the loop-hole to fill the space between it and the gun’s shield.

Myself at the 2-pounder loop

Joe on the east side (regular loop can be seen)

A contemporary diagram of an Ordnance QF 2-Pounder gun which would have been fired from this pillbox

We then cot back in the car following an easier public footpath along the south of the field, to which we then went back up the lane to opposite the farm’s main gate. In this field was another Type 26, with another blast wall. Although vines and the elements had started to get the better of it, we did go in and found tons of Peacock butterflies suspended around the ceiling. At first we thought these to be dead, but soon realized they must have gone in to feed from a salt or similar solution produced from the concrete in the presence of moisture. We also saved a butterfly from a spider’s web despite testing our courage in this pillbox, ridden with cobwebs and quite dark.

Watching over farm and field

Closer view

Beauty in decay

The final pillbox was a Type 24 – almost like a flat-ended hexagon. It had six sides, one being longer than the rest (containing the entrance with two pistol loops either side), with the other smaller sides having one regular loop hole in each. This was much further back up along the main road, to the north of it, in a public park. It featured a wall in the middle to stop explosions killing all the crew inside, instead just the ones in front of the wall.

The small sides

The larger side with pistol loops

Here is a plan of an average Type 24

So all in all it was a good trip out to liven-up a Sunday. Below is a great shot Joe got of a train powering down the adjacent railway, plus a slideshow of all our images from the day (you can mouse over it and flick through them yourself).

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The Bay Museum was a Cold War defense building, planned and built from 1962-1963, as a result of the Cuban Missile Crisis, which almost concluded with a nuclear missile exchange between NATO (USA, Britian, Canada, and other European countries) and the Soviet Union, today Russia and the surrounding part of Eastern Europe. With this incredibly close call, many nuclear defences were reinforced, and many more were added, such as Canvey Degaussing Range Station.

The Bay Museum was a Cold War defense building, planned and built from 1962-1963, as a result of the Cuban Missile Crisis, which almost concluded with a nuclear missile exchange between NATO (USA, Britian, Canada, and other European countries) and the Soviet Union, today Russia and the surrounding part of Eastern Europe. With this incredibly close call, many nuclear defences were reinforced, and many more were added, such as Canvey Degaussing Range Station.

In the Cold War, both magnetic mines left over from WW2, and ‘to be deployed’ magnetic mines by Communist states/Soviet Russia, were a threat. Therefore the Degaussing Stations were constructed – not that many exist in the UK, and still just a few exist in the USA. The Bay Museum is undoubtedly the most suspicious and suitably-fashioned station in the country, with others simply being maybe an old house. One other can be seen in the walls of Coalhouse Fort, in Tilbury – a fort which saw dominant fortification in WW2.

Today the building is a museum and you can visit our affiliates website here. They are open from 10am-4pm every Sunday and bank holiday and are well worth a visit!