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

THE FINDON AIRSTRIP

Copyright Valerie Martin 2009

Published in Sussex Local in August 2009

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 I suppose could be described as a cockney by birth.  He arrived at 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 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 for this young man was the question of where exactly to park his new flying machine.  He eventually settled on the ideal place and decided it would be safe and accessible on the site of the old racecourse on the downland above Muntham Court.  This was between Muntham Clump and Chantry Post on the lonely Downs.   The flat stretch became known as The Landing Stretch in the Thynne household.   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 far from being 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 its wings folded.  Brian decided that any future machines that did not fold would have to be picketed out.

He positioned a windsock 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 any particular day).  The necessary distance to taxi out always depended on how good a take off any aircraft he had.  Brian soon realised 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, (you will remember that 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 hindrances to navigate around.  A well-used 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 trip which could present even more difficulties when landing.  Brian always had to make a quick decision and choose between soaring well above or ducking under these.  It was often impossible to rise over them and so it was usually directly under the power cables that his aeroplane landed — Brian's mother, Majory, was not impressed.

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.   

Brian further followed his teenage passion for flying and joined the Auxiliary Air Force.  

On occasions in the cockpit of an Avro Avian he rose from the field above the ornate Gothic-styled Muntham Court.   The year was by now 1930 and Brian was yet to become a noted aviator.

Brian became one of the original members of 601 Squadron in the 1920s.

Doug Attrell in Goring wrote to me in August 2010 to say "I see you've posted another interesting subject, Brian Thynne. He must have been quite a character.  By sheer coincidence I found a reference to one of his aeroplanes the other day. It was a Simmonds Spartan G-AAGY (which I've nicknamed Aggie).

It was registered to ......
Brian S Thynne, Muntham Court, Findon, Sussex from September 1929 to January 1931.  

He was the first owner from new.  It was scrapped at Nutfield Ridge, Surrey in August 1947.

You will see that the Spartan looks similar to a Moth & even today all light biplanes are commonly called Moths by the general public, in the same way as large jet airliners are commonly called Jumbo Jets. What is described in eye-witness reports as a Moth or Tiger Moth is not necessarily correct".

Brian subsequently traded the above Simmonds Spartan G-AAGY in 1931 for the latest Spartan Arrow G-ABGW and this was registered to him from December 1930 until it was cancelled in October 1934.     No reason given for this..... perhaps crashed beyond repair?     Bad landings in aircraft seems to have been somewhat of a regular occurrence in the RAF in those days.    This little craft would have knocked him back some £700. at the time (he was not living at Muntham Court at this juncture or I would have suggested that perhaps Colonel Thynne paid?)    Brian was residing in London at the time of the purchase..... at Tower House in Holland Street, SE1.

During the 1930s, Brian competed in the King's Cup Race and 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 to the Findon Airstrip are said to have included a Hornet Moth, Puss Moth, Leopard Moth, a Monro Avro, a Spartan three-seater, a Bluebird B2, Miles Hawk, Aeronca and Comper Swift. 

To see more photographs of Brian and his aircraft, click on http://www.601squadron.com/Brian_Thynne_Main_Page.php

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 if they were among the less experienced aviators of the day. 

In August 2009 I received the following message from Mr. W. Knibbs in Worthing... "Your article evoked memories of my childhood flooding back.   Lying on the grass, gazing up into a clear blue sky from the park off Church Lane, Sompting, where I was born (not in the park), I witnessed Tiger Moths flying about almost on a daily basis.

Before your news I didn't realise that there was a landing strip at Findon.   Some "kites" like the one owned by John Wadman, a neighbour, were based at Shoreham.   He would perform aerobatics for the benefit of his parents, almost touching the ground at times, before flying off with his friends, maybe Brian and his pals.

There was weekly flypasts of T.M's towing long white drogues, bearing an advert "Smoke Craven A" or "Players Please".   Some really expert pilots spelt out the advertisement in white smoke pouring from their exhaust pipes, on a still day it would hang in the sky, readable, for many minutes.

The Moth was not a fast moving craft and facing a strong headwind it could actually be flying backwards, though registering an airspeed of perhaps 40 Knots on such a day it would be possible to land or take off in the length of a cricket pitch.

Other craft in the air at the time were gliders, I witnessed them landing and taking off from the Downs north of Lancing Lump, towed for take-off by a car.   Some times a TM would land there with them and the pilot get out and join the ground crew, this was at weekends when my Dad would take his family for walks over the Downs, we would squat and watch from the top of Steep Down, with it's views across Shoreham river and beyond,  Yours Truly, W. Knibbs."

There was one memorable accident worth recounting from those years.  This was in 1934 and a certain 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.    Shock horror.   Panic gripped him.  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 his buddies.  It was all highly unofficial of course.   They stayed to dinner at the mansion (and perhaps enjoyed a glass or two of wine) and maybe played 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.  But no.   It was learned through experience that it was merely 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, Brian commanded 601 (County of London) Squadron which by now had become known as the Millionaires Squadron as many of the original members were from rich families.   These included Max Aiken who was the son of Lord Beaverbrook.    You can just picture how these wealthy young men used the squadron.   It was like an exclusive flying club just for them.    Brian also acted as Squadron Leader until in 1939 he became a Fighter Command Controller.  He was made a CBE.    Many of the members came into their own during the Second World War and some were killed or wounded.    Here is one anecdote related to me by Doug Attell of Goring.....

 "..... when Squadron Leader Thynne detailed Willie Rhodes-Moorehouse* to find a supply of petrol for the motor bikes being driven by many in the squadron as a method of fuel economy (and of course they raced them about as well), he accordingly purchased a petrol station. But unfortunately the tanks were only half full.    Loel Guinness had forgotten that he was on the board of Shell, and after phoning his secretary to confirm this, had the tanks duly filled."

*William 'Willie' Rhodes-Moorhouse was the son of a famous father, the first airman to be awarded the Victoria Cross (posthumously in 1915). He was shot down and killed over Kent during the Battle of Britain in 1940, shortly after being awarded the DFC."  

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.

There is one other drama to relate that 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 Findon 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.  They were sure they were taking prisoners of war.  From all accounts it caused a frightful row with the officials and no doubt, Colonel Thynne himself.

In August 2010 I received an email from Doug Attrell in Goring......"Good morning V.......In Defence of the Home Guard....I've been reading your updated article on the Findon airstrip & it occurred to me that you & the surfers might not realise why the local Home Guard were suspicious of Brian Thynne's Blenheim when it landed there. You've seen the photos of the new Blenheims on the 601 photos pages so will know what they looked like. It was a twin-engined bomber very similar to the Junkers Ju 88 operated by the Luftwaffe & was often mistaken for it. In fact Blenheims were shot down by "friendly fire" on more than one occasion, even by aircraft of RAF Fighter Command.

Having never seen a Blenheim before, the local Home Guard could be forgiven for suspecting Brian Thynne's aircraft as being some sort of German trick, perhaps a German bomber in disguise. The country was alive with all sorts of rumours at the time.

It took me a long time to find photos of the two types in a similar pose. This is about the best I can do. Imagine seeing them from a distance in the confusion of combat.

Bristol Blenheim Mk I

Junkers Ju 88

Good observation, Doug, I hadn't thought of that.

At the end of the Second World War, Brian was demobbed and his father wanted him to negotiate with the War Ministry for compensation for damage inflicted by the military on the ancestral mansion of Muntham Court.     I am not sure what the outcome of this entailed.

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.

Brian thought that life in Findon would never be the same after the war..... and in fact that Britain would never be the same  and he went to Spain where he lived with his Spanish wife and daughters.    He died in Madrid at the age of 78 in 1985.

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 Albert and Jessie   

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