Blackbushe Airport memories
Here are memories of Blackbushe Airport and the local area. You can start now: Add your own Memory of Blackbushe Airport or a Blackbushe Airport photo.
Wartime Boyhood
Living just off Park St, Camberley, our house was on the landing approach flight path. With my dad's binoculars from the First World War I watched the Boston III's and Mitchells coming back from daylight raids with holes and bits missing, flying low right over our house on long approach. I spent my days and nights watching the air, giving me memories of every type of aircraft that existed, including captured German planes out from the RAE. (At the post-war RAE shows I had a close-up of those German aircraft and actually sat in an Me 163 rocket plane.) I also used to cycle over to the RAE and stand at the gate watching the flight path. One day I was rewarded with a terrific roaring sound and coming toward me was the Gloster jet with a P in a circle on its fuselage. I hurried home to tell of the plane without an engine. Later I stood amazed at the huge number of Flying Fortresses coming over, glinting in the... Read more
South East Englands Best Airport Site!
As a small boy in the 1950s I would be taken to see the aircraft at Blackbushe, then London's second airport. Blackbushe was London Heathrow's main fog diversion as it always has been one of the most fog free airports in the UK. So what was to be seen in the 50s? It was the home of the US Navy, Europe, and the spawning ground for many independent airlines, Dan Air, Eagle, Silver City, Britavia etc etc. Airwork were based there with their military contracts. Trooping flights, royal flights, and regular passenger flights to many distant parts. Unique in having a major road run through the middle, the A30 London Southampton road provided excellent opportunities for watching the proceedings. During the war Blackbushe, known as RAF Hartford Bridge at the time, was home to many military units and saw the Free French, Dutch, Canadian, Polish air forces operating along side RAF squadrons. I became directly involved in 1960 when the government decided to close Blackbushe to support Gatwick where they had invested... Read more
Living With Planes
In about 1961 my father became the manager of Blackbushe Airport. As a result my mother, brother (16) and I (9) moved from our comfortable town house in Cheltenham to a large mobile home attached to, what was then, the middle of the long terminal building. We weathered high winds, blizzards, beating heat, pounding demolition, aircraft running up within inches of the front window, eccentrics using our roof as an escape root, enjoyed crowds of drag racing fans, air shows, trials for land yachts, fiberglass sports cars and mono-planes, watched the making of TV adverts, serials and a film with Robert Mitcham, met with various film crews, celebrities including Dick Emery (and others that I don't remember, being so young) and experienced wonderful wildlife, life with horses, dogs, cats and goodness knows what.
For my father it was an opportunity to develop an airfield from derelict to successful business, for my mother it was a bit of a nightmare, with little control over her life, less privacy than she... Read more
Flying Out of Blackbushe on A US Navy C47 Aircraft
Obtained a hop out of Blackbushe on a US Navy C47 bound for Naples Italy and Rheine Maine Germany. I was a US Regular Army soldier stationed in Germany on leave in London. Great time, enjoyed the British people. Had many interesting conversations with locals. Have a great day.
Blackbushe 1940's 1970's
I first visited Hartfordbridge Flats, as the area was originally known, in 1949, when I lived at Farnborough. I too remember seeing various WWII aircraft on the site and the runway which extended southwards across the A30 resulting in the diversion whilst that road was closed during WWII.
In 1972 I returned when the airport was owned by the redoubtable Doug Arnold, a WWII NCO fighter pilot and who among other things had a collection of - and dealt in- WWII aircaraft. Mithchells, JU-52s, a B-17 Fortress from France, a Mosquito -which went to Kermit Weeks in USA. Others included his MkIV Spitfire, previously the personal plane of AVM Robb; and which was flown magnificently by Niel Williams who had been World Aerobatic Champion. There were the CASA 111s, a Spanish version of the Heinkel, in one of which Neil sadly perished.
Doug fought hard against other interests to develop the airfield which was referred to in a review of future General Aviation in the... Read more
Memories of Surrey
The Golden Farmer
I used to live in Maultway North - the turning directly to the right of the Jolly Farmer - in the mid 1980's, so I have hazy memories of the pub as a customer. But I remember feeling the place to be cut off from the rest of the world - it was always a challenge crossing the London Road as the pub is smack bang in the middle of a busy roundabout. A million miles away from this tranquil image. The legend of the Golden Farmer (where the pub gets its name) always fascinated me - he was a farmer by day but a highwayman by night who robbed rich travellers on their way to London. Famed for paying all his debts in gold, he was eventually caught and hung from the gibbet which stands outside the pub, where he was left for all to see. His gold was never recovered and is rumored to be buried nearby. My efforts towards finding the treasure remain unrewarded! No longer a pub, The... Read more
1960s And Prior -London Road Haunts
I was born in Bagshot but moved to Camberley in 1955 when I was 8. I attended York Town Primary School which was, and on checking the maps still appears to be, located on the other side of the London Road, a bit further down from what was once the Odeon cinema. Later on, like Gaynor Henderson (Smith), I went to France Hill School and in 1966 also married a soldier from the RMA. I moved to Australia in early 1973 shortly after my marriage failed and now live on North Stradbroke Island with my new partner. When we talk of our early years I fondly recall my old haunts along the London Road - the Blue Pool and waiting impatiently for opening day on the first of April each year then nearly freezing to death, the Cambridge Hotel and trad jazz nights in the room out the back, Moss Bros shop where as a child I'd press my nose against the window drooling over the saddlery, the Staff College... Read more
Born Next Door
I was born in the flat above the shop to the right and and just out of sight of the photograph in 1944. Home births were the norm in those days. I lived in Camberley and went to France Hill Secondary School. I remained in Camberley till 1964 by which time I had married my husband Andy who was a soldier at the R.M.A. We have travelled widely but have returned to see my family, who all still reside in the area, several times and we have now settled in Yorkshire. My first thought when I saw this picture was of the time when as a young teenager myself and a few girlfriends were asked to leave the cinema for mucking about and giggling and were not allowed back until we had apologised in person to the manager. Oh happy days! - what a different world it was then. Gaynor Henderson (nee Smith)
Where my Grand Mother Worked
I have never been here but recently I found out that my grandmother worked in Brackendale Road, the name of the house was 'Calder'. She was a cook there, I guess for some well-to-do lady. Can anyone help out?
Return of A Native
Camberley, where it all began. Where I lived half of my life so far.
In your head you never leave the place you were born and raised. On a wet un-comforting day I found myself revisiting the town of my past. I was cast into memories of wartime school in School Lane, street play, places where I worked, courted, laughed and cried. I recalled the early life, its geography of fixed points. The past cracked open like an egg. It's no longer the place of my growing up, marrying, building a house, having a practice, knowing Grace Reynolds, the Morris Brothers, Chancellor, Fox and Smallbone, Mr Rowlinson at Sadler & Baker, Verran, Pages, architects Cox, Bob Cole and Harry Barton, Herrington & Carmichael, Mr Keil and so on. To look back only emphasised an awful fragility.
From my knowledge stored in a mental attic I was resurrected in a time warp.
There was old man Roberts and his Park Street shop, replete with his pince-nez, bushy moustache,... Read more
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