THIS IS FINDON — www.findonvillage.com  created by Valerie Martin, contains scenes from her home village of Findon, West Sussex, U.K.

THE FINDON AIRSTRIP

Copyright Valerie Martin 2003

I was surprised to discover that Findon had an airstrip at one time and this was on the downland to the west of Muntham Court.   Legend has it that Muntham Court, like many other country seats was built on the east side of the downland for protection from the west wind which was believed to bear the infection of the plague.

Brian Thynne was born within the sound of Bow Bells ringing and was therefore a cockney by birth.  He came to Muntham Court as a toddler at the tender age of two in 1909.  He was the youngest son of Colonel Ulric Oliver Thynne and he had always taken a great interest in flying.  In time he purchased his first aeroplane — with financial help from his mother, Lady Marjory Thynne.

The major problem in the young man's mind was the question of where to park his new flying machine.  He eventually settled on the ideal place and decided it would be the old racecourse on the downs above Muntham Court.  This was between Muntham Clump and Chantry Post on the lonely downland.   The flat stretch became known as the Landing Stretch.   Before then, his horse riding father had called it The Gallops.   Brian's flying activities could now commence.

To be quite truthful, the site was a far from perfect choice.  The ground was not level and there were a multitude of tricky obstacles to be overcome on the actual runway and flight path.   Also, there were no boundary marks.   In fact, no perimeters at all.

Brian's eagerness to get into the air overcame his reason and a lean-to hangar was soon constructed adjoining the southern side of the Well House, (the Well House still exists buried in the undergrowth today).  The structure was just big enough to accommodate a Moth aeroplane with wings folded.  Any machines that did not fold would have to be picketed out.

Brian positioned a wind-sock on the downland and it was from this point that aeroplanes could be taxied out in search of a convenient taking off spot (taking into account the direction of any wind on a particular day).  The necessary distance to taxi out always depended on how good a take off any aeroplane had.  Brian decided that more care had to be paid when taking off downhill than into the wind.

The tricky obstructions I have mentioned on the runway included numerous clumps of ominous prickly gorse bushes.  Notwithstanding these, there was also a row of formidable horse jumps, (the area was originally used as a practice gallop for his father's horses).  Two large circular depressions in the ground on the hillside (dried up dew-ponds) presented themselves as a hindrance at times too.  A farm track directly crossed the new downland air strip and this could only be taxied over at specific points and presented another problem. 

In addition, there were high power cables strung across the centre of the air strip which could present even more difficulties when landing.  Brian always had to make a quick decision and choose between soaring above or ducking under these.  It was often impossible to go over them and so it was usually directly under the power cables that his aeroplane landed — Brian's mother was not impressed.

In 1928 Brian joined the Auxiliary Air Force serving with No. 601 Squadron.

Brian's Moth was frequently seen circling the Findon sky when he used the landing strip.  The countryside echoed with the sound of his light aircraft's engine as it fought against treacherous cross-winds to gain height before soaring swiftly away to the west.   On other occasions in the cockpit of an Avro Avian he rose from the field above the ornate Gothic-styled Muntham Court.   The year was 1930 and Brian was yet to become a noted aviator.   

During the 1930s, he competed in the King's Cup Race and following the earlier tradition of William Frankland (who had lived in the family home at Muntham Court many years before), he tried to increase the speed of his aircraft by an unorthodox piece of machinery in the form of a streamlined canopy fitted round the pilot's head and "faired" in with the cockpit.

Other regular visitors are said to have included a Hornet Moth, Puss Moth, Leopard Moth, a Simminds Spartan Arrow, a Monro Avro, a Spartan three-seater, a Bluebird B2, Miles Hawk, Aeronca and Comper Swift. 

As one can imagine there were some hair-raising narrow escapes on landing in Findon when these dashing young men in their flying machines arrived.  Especially among the less experienced aviators of the day. 

There was one memorable accident worth recounting.  This was in 1934 and the pilot had only recently earned his wings.  He was delivering a Moth to a friend in the army who was camped at the Muntham Estate.  He naturally anticipated seeing some form of aerodrome laid out below him to enable him to land.  To his horror he glimpsed just a windsock and nothing else at all.  He just did not know what to do and his aeroplane crashed, caught fire and he was badly burned.

During summer evenings Brian would fly down to Muntham from Hendon with a couple of chums.  It was all highly unofficial of course.   They stayed to dinner at the mansion, perhaps enjoyed a game of billiards and then climbed into their respective machines to fly back to London in the dark.  As there were no lights available on the Findon airstrip, one would think it was impossible to taxi out in the gloom.  It was learned through experience that it was essential upon arrival to put the aircraft’s nose into the wind where it had a clear run.  If this procedure was adopted it was simple and the plan was to steer a dead straight course when taking off again.

From 1936 to 1939, he commanded 601 Squadron and inthe latter year became a Fighter Command controller.

Another drama added excitement during the Second World War in Findon.  This was when Brian literally dropped in unexpectedly one day.  He was accustomed to visit his parents when his Air Force duties allowed and on this particular occasion he landed a Blenheim on the, by then, disused airstrip.  His sudden appearance out of the blue heavens took the local Home Guard patrol completely by surprise.  They thought it was their lucky day for glory and jumped to the wrong conclusion and immediately circled the Blenheim, suspecting it to be a German ploy.  From all accounts it caused a frightful row.

Sadly, the start of the Second World War saw the wind-up of civilian flying and the airstrip at Muntham became nothing more than a vague memory.  The once bustling hangar and the solitary windsock have long since gone, as have the practice gallops for the Colonel’s horses.  Only the rolling deserted farm track wending its way like a snake across the downland with the skylarks overhead remains the same.

In the 1970s, Brian (then living at nearby Cowfold), expressed a wish to be buried in the family grave at Muntham Clump above the site of the mansion.   He told a friend that, should access no longer be possible by road to the site, he would have his coffin lowered by helicopter!

I guess the notion was natural for a man who had gained such honours in the aviation world.

On 10th December 1985, Brian Thynne, CBE.,  a famed aviator and kinsman of the Marquess of Bath, died in Madrid, Spain at the age of 78.

Continue if you would like to read about The Mystery of the Seville Cathedral Gates.

This is Findon Village — www.findonvillage.com is a continually growing record created by Valerie Martin exclusively for documenting life in Findon.