Decoying the Blitz: Uncovering the Remains of Operation Starfish on Sowerby Moor

 High on the expansive moors above Sowerby, amidst the windswept grasses, stand the unassuming brick and concrete remains of a wartime secret. These structures, captured in striking black and white on a clear summer's day in June 2015, are the remnants of an "Operation Starfish" decoy site, a ingenious and desperate measure to divert the devastating bombs of the German Luftwaffe during the dark days of the Blitz.

The year is 1940. British cities were enduring relentless aerial bombardment, with the almost complete destruction of Coventry in November serving as a stark and horrifying example of the enemy's destructive power. In response to this escalating threat, engineer and retired Air Ministry officer Colonel John Turner was tasked with expanding his existing "K" and "Q" sites. These earlier decoys were designed to mimic factories and airfields, but the scale of the destruction demanded a new approach. Turner's expanded vision led to the creation of "SF" sites – "SF" standing for "special fire" – intended to replicate the fiery glow of nearby major cities under attack. While initially designated "SF," a site near Bristol was given the evocative codename "Starfish," and this name ultimately stuck for all subsequent sites.

One such vital "Starfish" site was strategically established on the Sowerby moors. Its purpose was audacious: to act as a decoy for the industrial powerhouses of Leeds and Manchester, as well as the crucial railway goods yards at Greetland and major railway junctions at Todmorden, Halifax, and Rochdale. The hope was that enemy bombers, drawn by the deceptive fires, would unleash their deadly payloads upon the empty moorland instead of their intended targets.

The construction of these sites was remarkably clever. During daylight hours, they were designed to blend seamlessly into the landscape, often disguised to resemble innocent farm buildings. However, their true function lay hidden beneath the vegetation. The surrounding area was crisscrossed with metal troughs, concealed from above, connected to tanks filled with oil and water. These troughs were also primed with creosote and coal. When an air raid was anticipated, a carefully orchestrated pyrotechnic display would begin. Approximately 15 minutes after the initial ignition of the combustibles, water would be released into the hot pans, creating a spectacular burst of flame and a loud explosion. This dramatic effect was specifically designed to confuse enemy bombers, leading them to believe they had successfully hit a populated, burning urban area.

The heart of this deception lay within the site's control bunker. As seen in the photographs, the bunker was a two-room control area, accessed by a short passage. Crucially, this entrance was protected by a substantial blast wall, a testament to the dangers faced by the personnel operating these decoys. Despite over 70 years having passed since these images were captured in 2015, the bunker and its accompanying blast wall remain in remarkably good condition, a durable brick and concrete monument to a forgotten aspect of wartime defence. The interior shots reveal the stark, empty rooms, littered with debris but still recognisably a former operational space.

Today, there is little else surrounding these structures to hint at their significant historical role. The expansive moorland stretches out, seemingly undisturbed, making the discovery of these remains even more poignant. They stand as a silent, rugged tribute to the ingenuity and resilience of those who worked tirelessly to protect Britain's cities during one of its darkest hours. The Sowerby Starfish site is a tangible link to a hidden chapter of the Second World War, where fire and deception played a crucial role in safeguarding lives and industry.

All photographs were taken on 16 June 2015 using a Polaroid IS2132 bridge camera, clicking any of them should open a link in another window to my Colin Green Photography store on Zazzle.

Inside the right side control room.

The left side control room.

Taken stood atop the bunker looking in the direction of Lancashire.
The blast wall was in excellent condition.

The only entrance / exit to the bunker. I imagine it could have
got quite claustrophobic inside.

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Whispers of Winged Giants: Croydon Airport's Echo in an Industrial Landscape

Croydon Airport, a name that once resonated with the glamour and pioneering spirit of aviation's golden age, now lies nestled within the hum of a bustling industrial estate in South London. To the casual observer, the sprawling warehouses and delivery trucks might seem worlds away from the sleek biplanes and record-breaking flights that once graced this very ground. But beneath the surface, the echoes of a bygone era linger, a testament to the airport's pivotal role in shaping London's aviation history.

In the roaring twenties and thirties, Croydon was more than just an airport; it was the gateway to the world. Known as "London Airport," it was the epicentre of British aviation, a hub of innovation and adventure. Imagine the scene: pioneering pilots, like Amy Johnson and Alan Cobham, taking off on daring long-distance flights, the roar of their engines mingling with the excited chatter of passengers embarking on their first aerial journeys. This was the era of leather flying helmets, open cockpits, and a sense of boundless possibility.

Croydon's significance extended beyond mere passenger travel. It was a crucial link in the Empire's communication network, facilitating mail delivery and connecting far-flung corners of the globe. The airport's control tower, a beacon of technological advancement, oversaw the intricate ballet of arrivals and departures, guiding pilots through the often-treacherous skies.

However, the very success of Croydon's operations ultimately contributed to its demise. As London's suburbs expanded, encroaching upon the airport's boundaries, the limitations of its size became increasingly apparent. The need for longer runways and greater capacity became critical, and Croydon, hemmed in by urban development, could not meet the growing demands of modern aviation. Consequently, the torch was passed to Heathrow and Gatwick, and Croydon's role as London's primary airport gradually faded.

Today, the site has transformed into a bustling industrial estate, a stark contrast to its former glory. Yet, remnants of its aviation past remain, whispering tales of a time when the sky was the limit. The most striking of these remnants is the former terminal building, now known as Airport House. This elegant structure, a testament to the Art Deco architectural style of the era, stands as a silent guardian of Croydon's aviation heritage.

Perhaps the most captivating feature of Airport House is the de Havilland Heron, suspended on struts at the entrance. This iconic aircraft, a symbol of post-war British aviation, serves as a poignant reminder of the airport's legacy. It's a tangible link to the days when Croydon was a hive of activity, a place where dreams took flight.

Walking through the industrial estate, one can almost hear the ghostly hum of radial engines and the excited announcements echoing across the tarmac. The control tower, though no longer guiding aircraft, still stands tall, a silent sentinel watching over the comings and goings of a different kind. The spirit of Croydon Airport, though transformed, persists, woven into the fabric of the landscape.

Croydon Airport's story is a reminder of the ephemeral nature of progress and the enduring power of history. It's a tale of ambition, innovation, and the inevitable march of time. As the industrial estate hums with activity, the echoes of winged giants continue to resonate, a testament to the airport's indelible mark on London's aviation legacy. It invites us to pause, to look beyond the present, and to remember the days when Croydon was the gateway to the world, a place where the dreams of flight took shape and soared

These pictures were taken on the 26th June 2015 with a Polaroid is2132 bridge camera. Clicking any of the images should open a link in another window to my Colin Green Photography store on Zazzle.

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Operation Starfish: Deceiving the Luftwaffe Over Sowerby

The night skies of World War II were a theatre of terror, illuminated by the deadly dance of bomber streams and the fiery destruction they wrought. In the desperate struggle for survival, Britain turned to ingenious deception, and one of its most remarkable stratagems was Operation Starfish. This ambitious project aimed to divert German bombers from their intended targets, safeguarding vital industrial cities and infrastructure.

The Shadow of Coventry:

The catalyst for Operation Starfish was the devastating blitz on Coventry in November 1940. The near-total destruction of this historic city underscored the Luftwaffe's relentless efficiency and the urgent need for effective countermeasures. Colonel John Turner, a visionary engineer, conceived the idea of creating elaborate decoy sites that would mimic the appearance of burning cities from the air.

The Starfish Strategy:

These decoy sites, known as "Starfish" sites, were strategically located approximately four miles from targeted urban areas. They were designed to replicate the chaos and inferno of a bombing raid. The ingenious method involved a network of metal troughs laid through the surrounding fields, filled with a volatile mixture of creosote, coal, and diesel oil. When German bombers approached, these troughs would be ignited, creating a convincing illusion of a city ablaze. After a carefully timed interval, typically around 15 minutes, water would be added to the burning mixture, producing a dramatic explosion and a towering burst of flame. This spectacle was intended to convince the overhead bombers that they had successfully hit their target, prompting them to release their remaining payloads on the decoy site rather than the intended city.

Sowerby's Secret Role:

In the heart of West Yorkshire, the landscape surrounding Sowerby played a crucial role in this deception. The Sowerby Starfish site was specifically designed to protect the industrial cities of Manchester and Leeds, as well as the vital railway goods yards at Greetland, Halifax, Todmorden, Littleborough, and Rochdale. These railway hubs were critical for transporting supplies and munitions, making them prime targets for German bombers.

A Glimpse into the Past:

Today, the physical remnants of Sowerby's Starfish site are sparse, but a tangible link to this clandestine operation remains: a two-room bunker. This sturdy structure, accessed through a short passage protected by a blast wall, stands as a silent testament to the ingenuity and determination of those who worked to protect their communities. The lack of extensive surface evidence speaks to the secrecy surrounding these operations, a necessity in wartime.

A Visual Record:

The accompanying photographs, captured on June 16, 2015, with a Polaroid is2132 bridge camera, offer a visual glimpse into the present-day landscape of the Sowerby site. While the fields may appear tranquil, they hold the echoes of a dramatic and vital chapter in British wartime history.

The Legacy of Deception:

Operation Starfish was a testament to the power of strategic deception. It played a significant role in diverting German bombers, saving countless lives and protecting critical infrastructure. The sites, like the one at Sowerby, represent a fascinating blend of engineering ingenuity and wartime necessity. While the physical scars may have faded, the story of Operation Starfish remains a compelling reminder of the resourcefulness and resilience displayed during one of history's darkest periods.

Further Exploration:

For those interested in learning more about Operation Starfish, further research into Colonel John Turner's work and the broader context of British wartime deception is highly recommended. Local historical societies and archives may also hold valuable information about the specific role of the Sowerby site.

Clicking any of the images below should open a link in another window to my Colin Green Photography store on Zazzle.

Thanks for looking and please take a moment to share and follow me on social media, and check out my portfolio on Photo4Me via the link below.

All the images remain the copyright of Colin Green.