I've always been fascinated by the quiet, unassuming places that hold powerful stories from our past. Years ago, I visited the remains of a World War II Operation Starfish site near Sowerby. On August 16, 2022, armed with a much better camera—my Nikon D3300—I decided to return, knowing that while the scenery would be the same, the story it told would feel just as poignant.
And in many ways, nothing had changed. The sprawling moorland landscape remained a beautiful, desolate expanse. The old brick bunker, a silent sentinel on the hill, was exactly as I remembered it. The only real difference was the unfortunate addition of more rubbish and a bit of minor damage to the brickwork, a sad mark left by time and neglect.
This remote spot was once part of a crucial large-scale deception plan known as Operation Starfish. Developed by Colonel John Turner after the devastating bombing of Coventry in November 1940, the plan was a brilliant, if simple, ruse to protect Britain's cities. The idea was to create large-scale decoys that would mimic the glow of bombed-out cities and industrial targets, tricking German bombers into dropping their payloads in harmless, open countryside.
The sites were strategically located about four miles from their intended targets. In the fields surrounding the bunker, metal troughs were hidden, ready to be filled with a volatile mix of creosote, coal, and diesel oil. When enemy bombers were overhead, these troughs would be set alight, creating a convincing imitation of a city on fire. After a short period—usually about 15 minutes—water would be added to the fire, causing a burst of flames and smoke that mimicked a secondary explosion, signaling a direct hit to the bombers flying high above.
The Sowerby site was specifically designed to be a decoy for major industrial centers and railway junctions. Its blazing fires would have been intended to lure bombers away from the cities of Manchester and Leeds, as well as the vital railway goods yards in nearby Greetland, Halifax, Todmorden, Littleborough, and Rochdale.
At the heart of the operation was a two-room bunker, which, remarkably, still stands today. Protected by a blast wall, it would have been a small, claustrophobic space where the brave men operating the decoy would have lived and worked, orchestrating the fiery deception. The images I took, particularly those from inside the bunker, show a space now filled with rubble and rubbish, a stark contrast to the purpose it once served. Yet, even in its neglected state, you can feel the history, the tension, and the ingenuity that once existed within those walls.
These hidden relics of Operation Starfish serve as powerful reminders of the lengths to which a nation will go to defend itself. They are memorials not of grand battles, but of quiet, strategic brilliance, and of the forgotten individuals who played a crucial part in protecting their country.
Clicking any of the images below should open a link in another window to my Colin Green Photography store on Zazzle.
![]() |
The blast door pictured in front of the bunkers main entrance |
![]() |
Inside the bunker on the left hand side of the entrance is this former control room. Now filling up with rubbish that has been left behind. |
![]() |
Looking north over the bunker. In the foreground can be seen some brickworks, probably housed washrooms and generators. Their isn't much evidence of the site ever being linked to mains electric. |
![]() |
The former control room to the right hand side of the entrance. |
![]() |
Looking west away from the bunkers entrance, taken from the roof I assume the site in front of me would have housed the metal pans that created the dummy lighting effect. |
Please take a moment to share this post, follow me on social media, and explore my work on Clickasnap and Photo4Me using the links below. Your support means a lot!