Fight the Good Fight
One trip down memory lane in 1985 convinced me that RAF Driffield was important enough to warrant preservation. The only problem was, I didn’t really know what preservation meant in those days. I guess I simply didn’t want RAF Driffield to completely disappear from my life. Although I still lived in Driffield, I rarely ventured far, signing on the dole on Monday morning and cashing my Giro on Wednesday. After leaving school, my life had fragmented. I was unemployed, and not keen on doing anything, as I will explain in future chapters. These truly were my wilderness years.
That final day, I walked through Kings Mill and towards the camp crossing the newly built Driffield by-pass. I then proceeded to walk west on what was once the Driffield to Malton railway line (long since removed). This route gave me a clear view of the airfield and it wasn’t long before I was exactly inline with the main runway – or what remained of it. A few years before, its width had been reduced from 150ft to around 12ft. When I got as close as I could to the airfield without trespassing, I stopped and stood, looking intensely towards our collective past. There was no spiritual revelation. I just felt terribly sad that so much in recent years had been taken away from this once proud aerodrome. It would be another ten years before I would return to RAF Driffield. In 1986 our family broke apart, and I eventually ended up living in Bridlington.
In the months following the closure of RAF Driffield in 1996, I gradually drifted towards the notion that saving the site needed to be one of life’s priorities. That said, it wasn’t a case of waking up one morning and declaring my unconditional loyalty to the cause. Nor had all the options or ramifications been carefully weighed. There certainly wasn’t a plan of action. Before the closure of RAF Driffield, I was totally unaware that our aerodrome heritage was in such a poor state of fragmentation and disrepair.
But how do you save an abandoned aerodrome, and who do you turn to for help? Surely someone, somewhere, would be able to step in and prevent the site from being flattened. RAF Driffield has a rich and diverse heritage, second to none.
I was both a slow learner, and naive to the point of being gormless. That said, at least I tried. Like many concerned with their local heritage, I wrote letters to those I thought would be helpful. However, most proved to be the exact opposite. So, how do you save an abandoned aerodrome? Don’t ask me! Ten years later and I’m still trying.
The first thing I did was telephone the MoD – Defence Estates (Catterick), saying I was interested in seeing some of the buildings at Driffield given statutory protection. I spoke to Geoff Dixon, who at the time was responsible for disposals. I argued the case for preservation, and thought it vital that some of the buildings be awarded listed status. Without thinking, when asked which buildings, I suggested the water tower and the decontamination block. Coincidence or not, they were the first of three or four buildings to be demolished – thereafter I kept my mouth shut.
Over the years, I have written countless letters and emails hoping to secure support, information or helpful advice. All I got was an endless stream of patronising rejections. I wrote to the Phoenix Trust (and its affiliate: Regeneration through Heritage), English Heritage, the Association of Preservation Trusts, Building Preservation Fund, Army Training Estate, The Empty Homes Agency, Reserve Forces and Cadet Association, Royal Air Force Benevolent Fund, Business Link Humber, Yorkshire Forward, Driffield Area Partnership, Intervention Board, Driffield Town Council, Kirkburn Parish Council, East Riding of Yorkshire Council, Airfield Research Group and Airfields of Britain Conservation Trust. Etcetera. Etcetera. Etcetera.
What drove me to despair was all the tea and sympathy. Sympathy won’t save RAF Driffield, and I don’t drink tea.
One of my first projects was the creation of a discussion document, which outlined my various proposals. I envisaged a sheltered housing scheme for ex-servicemen, utilising the former married quarters and accommodation blocks. A museum was always on the cards, with the officer’s mess being an obvious candidate. Add numerous business units and community sports facilities, and 90% of the buildings could have easily been reused. Simple – but alas not profitable. I still have that “Discussion Document Mk1”. My primary objective and mission statement was: “The preservation of Royal Air Force Station Driffield – both in structure and character”.
Throughout the Strategic Defence Review and subsequent Defence Training Review, it was obvious that my thirst for news was shared by both the Parish Council and County Council. Information was scarce. It appears (looking through the numerous replies from my MP) that most of my efforts were directed towards securing the latest news.
The local Parish Council were fascinated by my later proposals and felt that: “Developments along these lines would not be unwelcome.” Then another reply would suggest that I “should also be aware that not everyone shares your views, or your vision for the preservation of this site”. That said, it was suggested that my proposal to create a small landing field, effectively reopening the aerodrome, was “a good idea”. Although named RAF Driffield, the aerodrome falls within the boundary of the Kirkburn Parish Council – much to the annoyance of the Driffield Town Council.
Site Visit
In December 1998, Defence Estates allowed me to revisit RAF Driffield. For the life of me I can’t remember the exact date, but early one morning (one day in early 1999), I arrived at the portable security cabin (located next to the officer’s mess) and presented my letter of authorisation to one of the security guards. Together, we walked from the makeshift guardroom and towards the main camp area, which was fenced off.
That morning, the camp was swamped by mist that made the officer’s mess stand out in isolation. The ground floor windows had been boarded up, and had been since the 1970s. As we walked, we talked about the camp and our own personal attachment to it. The security guard’s own father helped build the officer’s mess in the mid 1930s. I photographed everything I could, using a borrowed Olympus SLR camera loaded with Ilford XP2 film, making sure not to miss a single building. Since the camp had closed, the water tower had been demolished, and they were currently working on removing the decontamination block. That morning was what I needed, both to recharge my batteries and to gain an insight into what needed to be done.
From the perspective of any developer or campaigner, the site is a daunting expanse of open spaces and empty buildings. It takes time and knowledge to realise that the site can be saved and returned to gainful employment, while becoming an attractive part of the landscape.
During the tour, my guide stopped at one of the accommodation blocks. He then radioed his colleague to ask what the entry code was for this particular building. Keying in the four digit code gave us access to a building that was much on my mind. Post-war it had been expanded, and in later years had been used as a families’ centre and junior ranks club. In my scheme of things, it was to become the estate office, station archive and my home. And here I was walking through the very same building. Spooky.
All the buildings showed varying degrees of decay. Most of the brick built structures could easily be rejuvenated, but the concrete castings that made up the technical buildings were a real concern. Yet, with a little online research, it was evident that such structures could be restored and made good for another 80 years.
It was a surreal experience walking back in time. If it wasn’t for the overgrown vegetation, it could have been the warm summer’s day in 1976, when dad asked me to walk to the NAAFI shop to buy a bottle of Tizer, while he painted the family car in one of the MT Section garages used by the RAF Driffield Motoring Club.
That morning, the security guard’s 20 minute walk-round took two hours to complete.
WANTED: Expert to save RAF Driffield
Eager to secure some sort of statutory protection, I telephoned Paul Francis, a guru for us anorak aerodrome explorers and campaigners. He has written a number of authoritative [and successful] books on the subject of aerodrome architecture. English Heritage had also tasked him with much research and various site evaluations, which contributed towards English Heritage’s thematic survey. Firstly, I was informed that Driffield had come second to RAF West Raynham. Secondly, he wasn’t aware that RAF Driffield had been visited by English Heritage. I was eager to find out if he could help.
The good news is that Paul was a freelance researcher and was able to undertake a site visit and full, written, site evaluation. Being an expert in his chosen field meant that what he wrote would be taken seriously, both by English Heritage and the DCMS. Unfortunately my Giro (welfare cheque) wouldn’t stretch to employing his services. Although he thought RAF Driffield was important enough to warrant further investigation, Paul earns a living from visiting sites and writing unbiased reports. Even his travel expenses were beyond my means. That said, I knew then (as now) that a site visit from him, and his expert opinion, would go a long way towards success, if not securing blanket listing, then at least securing statutory protection for the officer’s mess and other threatened structures.
He gave me one piece of advice: Be objective in your persuasion. Being subjective (emotional) won’t persuade those who have the power to award statutory protection. Begging to save RAF Driffield is a waste of energy. It also makes you look foolish.
It took me years to realise that this is partly true; that being an objective wordsmith, better than the opposition, can score you points and thus secure the future of our past. Yet, being totally objective is virtually impossible (maybe because if I become one of ‘them’, then I too would walk away from RAF Driffield). Not that I admit to being escapist. The only way RAF Driffield is to survive is through profitable enterprise. My opinion is that you secure favour through word play. If you can talk the hind legs off a donkey, then you’re doing well, but if you can beat Shakespeare at Scrabble, then you call the shots.
Another problem I have – apart from procrastination – is the inability to focus. I telephoned Paul Francis in 1999. Months later, I secured a paid job. Why didn’t I commission him then, instead of buying all that bloody sushi? Another admission is that saving RAF Driffield was never a 24/7 enterprise. Periodically, I would switch off – not only from RAF Driffield, but from other pet projects or even from mundane tasks, such as my increasingly untidy flat. But RAF Driffield would always be there at the back of my mind, only to surface periodically, when prompted by events. I didn’t have much of a life, but it was a life in need of servicing, and subconsciously walking away from RAF Driffield is what saved me.
Strong Foundations
A few months after my visit to the camp, I returned with Geoffrey Simmons, one of two Authors of “Strong Foundations”, the Hutton Press best seller on the history of the aerodrome. On this day, we also accessed the hangars and the Army Cadet Force enclave. Walking into one of the giant hangars was a revelation. There, hidden behind the outer metal shutters, were the original windows, still in pristine condition. The concrete flooring of one of the hangars still retained the scars of war, with visible bomb fragmentation marks from when the aerodrome was bombed in 1940. We were also allowed to look into the foyer of the officer’s mess. No one, not even the security guards or site manager, had entered the building in years and we were only allowed to look through the open door. It was a mess. The interior was full of bird excrement, and the wooden floor had almost rotted away.
Control Tower
My first pet project – or wacky idea – was to rebuild the control tower. The original was demolished in 1976, and I felt it only right that it should be rebuilt. For many, the control tower was the beating heart of any working aerodrome. My proposal was to establish a small museum with limited opening times, which would be manned by volunteers, with all proceeds going to the RAF Benevolent Fund. The idea was to move an existing building from another site (Wattisham, Watton or West Raynham), or build an exact replica, using original parts scavenged from far and wide. But alas, while the Intervention Board were sympathetic, they were unable to sell me the small 28ft x 22ft plot of land on which the original control tower once stood; land which they now owned.
They wrote: “As a Government Department, we are required to regularly review the need to retain sites within the Government estate. In all likelihood, we shall one day wish to sell the [Driffield] site. The separate ownership of a small piece of land on which you would like to purchase is likely to impede or unnecessarily complicate any future sale.”
Following the sale of the site in early 2006, I again tried to buy the same plot of land, but alas, the new owners didn’t want to know either. Though the hangars are “safe’ for the time being, it is possible that the new owners are protecting their investment. Current planning guidelines will change (allowing house building) and without a detailed schedule of refurbishment, I fear that these structures will eventually succumb to the wrecking ball. It is difficult to escape the feeling that time is running out, not only for Driffield, but for other aerodromes too: both the control towers at Wattisham and Watton have now been demolished.
Begging to he Heard
Probably my most desperate act was to publicly beg for funds. Private Eye is a British satirical magazine, which apart from having an unenviable talent for constantly being sued for libel, is also renowned for its quirky classified adverts. Most notably is the Eye Need section, in which desperate individuals pay good money to place small adverts begging for even more money. Single mums, destitute students and aviation enthusiasts begging to be heard have all tried Eye Need. The following was placed in the magazine in November 2004:
AVIATION ENTHUSIAST seeks campaign funds to help save historical aerodrome RBS 11-22-11 12345678
That’s 14 words at £2.50 each. The modest insertion into the magazine had an instant result: I instantly became poorer by £35. And the response? Sweet bugger all. I guess you live and learn. I lived without food for a week, and learned never to waste £35 on a daft ploy to scrounge money. Then again, with no one taking the preservation of RAF Driffield seriously, it proved impossible to secure funds from the various charitable bodies, who did have the money, such as the Heritage Lottery Fund, Phoenix Trust (Regeneration through Heritage), English Heritage, the Association of Preservation Trusts, Building Preservation Fund, Business Link Humber and Yorkshire Forward.
Grand Designs
They say a picture is worth a thousand words. One problem has been trying to illustrate what I mean by “preservation through sympathetic and profitable redevelopment”. A lack of sufficient funds prevented me from commissioning an artist’s digital 3D rendition of what the site would look like if preserved. I wanted to show others my vision – of historic buildings juxtaposed against new-build structures. I wanted to visualise what a modern glass encased Hangar 5 would look like next to a restored Hangar 4. I also wanted to show developers and investors (not to mention the Local Planning Authority), that you could easily cram many new houses and several business units onto the site, without having to employ a wrecking ball. In desperation, I wrote to the Phoenix Trust again, and even to the local architectural school, but I was on my own.
Unfortunately, I’m not an artist. Even securing a digital map would have set me back several hundred quid. I did enrol onto a CAD course with Hull College, but alas I didn’t have any software at home to practice with, and so I gave up after three or four weeks. You’d spend three hours a week in college, and then spend half of the following lesson trying to pick up on what you did the week before. It was frustrating, and a waste of my time.
Creating a series of plans and illustrations became an obsession. I knew it was going to be the only way to convince others that my proposals were credible.
I would often walk the streets in a daze, thinking about impossible dreams or “what shall I have for tea?” or how to save this important site (impossible dream?). Then suddenly I’d pick on something, like a discarded flyer for some pizza parlour or raunchy nightclub. I would kill to have an account with printing.com or have the services of a designer on tap. Most weeks I’d struggle just to pay the bills, and there, lying on the ground, is a discarded flyer. And another. And another.
For years I wanted to sell the preservation of RAF Driffield to a sceptical audience. I fantasised about doing a newsletter, but without the funds, it wasn’t going to happen. And there, in the back of my mind, was the realisation that the good people of Driffield simply didn’t want to know anyway. Did I want to add to the discarded flyers that already litter our streets?
Rumour Control
When not trying to sell the dream of preserving RAF Driffield, I would chase down rumours – writing more letters, seeking clarification or enlightenment. Rumours were rampant when it came to the old camp, and under the Freedom of Information Act, I sought reassurances that Driffield camp would not become the site for a new prison or detention centre for failed asylum seekers. I tracked down MoD units, asking if they could confirm speculation that they plan to move to Driffield. The RAF Search and Rescue helicopters were moving to Driffield. No, they weren’t. No.12 (Air Support) Engineer Brigade were to move to Driffield. Wrong again.
With the MoD taking so long to decide the fate of RAF Driffield, rumouring became a local pastime. People either didn’t want to know, or they were convinced that the site would become home to this, that or the other.
Read all about it...
The new millennium brought with it the opportunity to write again for the Driffield Times, and also the Driffield Post (now owned by the same company). My first article, reproduced in this publication, highlighted the historic bombing of RAF Driffield in 1940. This proved quite popular, with a moderately good reader feedback. Less popular were my lengthy arguments for preserving the site. No one bothered to write in, which proved a long standing truth about the good people of Driffield. Threaten to close the local hospital, and they’re ready to kill, but argue the case for preserving a 230/36 latrine block, and they just don’t want to know. Only kidding.
I was also responsible for breaking the story about the sale of both the hangars and then the main camp – news discovered during my routine internet scavenges for information on RAF Driffield.
East Riding of Yorkshire Council
Following on from my meeting with English Heritage, detailed in a separate chapter, I was able to meet up with planning officials from the East Riding of Yorkshire Council. Present at the meeting on November 5th 2004 were Eva Ormrod (Conservation Officer), Tom Barnes (Forward Planning) and Steve Devey (Team Leader – Conservation Landscape & Archaeology). It was during this meeting that I tried my best to fathom the complexities of planning. Like all Councils, there exists a series of complex guidelines that largely dictate what can be built and where. Talking to Tom Barnes, it was clear that building houses on the site wasn’t going to be allowed under any circumstances. This was good news. It was also bad news. It meant it would be improbable that the site would be cleared for housing. It also meant that in my own scheme of things, the building of 80 houses (needed to make the project viable) also wouldn’t be permitted.
Talking to the Council, it was obvious that the airfield was safe. The return of flying to Driffield wouldn’t pose a problem, but building a new hard runway would be. The existing houses could be reused; it being the opinion of those present that this also wouldn’t be an issue.
The bad news is that the Council felt it inappropriate to award RAF Driffield conservation area status, and even if it did, that would not prevent some of the buildings being demolished. The overriding opinion was that the camp was a strategic redevelopment opportunity, and that its preservation was a low priority.
My most recent contact with the East Riding of Yorkshire Council was with Malte Klöckner (Assistant Conservation Officer). The hangars were about to be put on the market, and I wanted them awarded some form of statutory protection – in order to weed out any developer who was planning to build houses on the site. So we both travelled to Driffield and there I was asked: “Why do you think these buildings should be listed?” I paused, and then realised I didn’t know what to say or how to put across my argument. I dried. Now, if Paul Francis was present (or any expert), they could have easily spieled off a few well structured sentences – speaking the lingo unique to Conservation Officers and English Heritage types – needed to convince those from on high (DCMS) that the hangars be recommended for statutory protection.
I simply died and accordingly my feeble arguments didn’t hold much water. Another wasted journey? Weeks later and Malte Klöckner emailed: “I asked my colleagues and managers, and they said that they would not support listing of the hangers. As you are aware, there are discussions at the moment with potential investors. The planning officers support any scheme that uses the hangers instead of taking them down.”
www.driffieldaerodrome.co.uk
Concerned that RAF Driffield might end up like so many other disused aerodromes and military camps – demolished – in January 2004, I launched a website that highlights and campaigns for the future of this aerodrome. By September 2007, the number of hits reached 12,000. Subsequently, over the years, I have received, and continue to receive, messages of support from near and far. Driffield, and its neighbouring aerodrome, remain in the hearts of many who once called RAF Driffield their home. From America, Canada, New Zealand, and Australia – many share my passion and concern for this former air base. Across Britain – from the Isle of Lewis down to Plymouth, it appears that I’m not the only one concerned for the future of RAF Driffield.
Roger and Me
In 2006, I emailed the new owners of RAF West Raynham. My hope is that if demolished, the buildings on this Norfolk aerodrome could provide some useful reclamation, needed in the restoration of similar buildings on other sites. I was surprised to discover that the new owner of RAF West Raynham once lived at Driffield. Roger Collins was born into the RAF. His father was a pilot during the Second World War, and would later be posted to RAF Driffield, where he flew the DH Mosquito with No.204 Advance Flying School. Roger was born in Driffield, and his first home was one of the Warrant Officer married quarters (since demolished).
Instead of following in his father’s footsteps, Roger became a successful property developer. He specialises in redeveloping surplus Government property – mostly former married quarters. He lives and worked part-time in Norway, and has property investments around the world. He appeared to be too good to be true – but surprisingly, he was legit – it was all true. Incredible.
As soon as I discovered that the camp at Driffield was to be sold, I emailed Roger. His response was electric. Not only was he interested in buying RAF Driffield, he wanted me to show his team around the site. His Finance Director even offered me a consultancy job (if Roger’s bid was successful). On January 12th, I travelled to Beverley to meet up with Alan Radley and Steve Jones, two of Roger’s Co-Directors. Also present was surveyor Graham Jones, from Tickton, near Beverley.
Roger chose Squadron Investments to develop the site, which was one of the many companies that formed The Welbeck Estate Group. The company also has a sizeable residential holding in Beverley, Hull and in Lincolnshire. Roger had even managed to buy some of the former married quarters at Driffield back in the 1990s.
Before we continued on our journey towards Driffield, we sat down for a coffee and talked about RAF Driffield and Roger’s plans for the site. Despite our collective enthusiasm for developing the site, Roger Collins was not going to be the only bidder. We talked tactics. I suggested that they hire Paul Francis to undertake a site visit and write a detailed site evaluation, to ensure that both GVA Grimley and Defence Estates were aware of the historical value of the buildings, but this idea was not acted upon. That said, would it have been allowed?
After our meeting, we travelled to Driffield in two cars, meeting up with a representative from GVA Grimley on site. I was under strict instructions to keep quiet.
Sadly, due to health and safety concerns, we weren’t allowed in any of the buildings. That said, I insisted that we be allowed entry into the married quarters, which were in a separate fenced compound from the rest of the camp. Luckily, some of the houses were unsecured; or rather the front doors were missing. I was taken aback by the moderately good condition of these properties – more so since they hadn’t been lived in for some twenty years. However, I was rather frustrated at the deliberate damage to the brickwork surrounding the front doors. Although used in recent years by the SAS and prison service, the bricks appeared to have been recently smashed – possibly to deter those wishing to refurbish these properties?
Graham’s job was to value these houses (if refurbished). He estimated them to be worth in the region of £100k each or £6.8m for the 68 properties.
It was clear that there was a lot of interest in the sale, with “several big names” also visiting the site. GVA Grimley were as keen as we were at keeping the exchange of information to a minimum. I strongly suggested that some effort be given to turning the “H” Blocks into spacious apartments. I suggested that if converted, the eight accommodation blocks would provide 48 units worth around £150k each or £7.2m.
Periodically, I would be asked a question about some aspect of the site, usually along the lines of “when…” or “what…”. I offered up as much information as I could recall about every aspect of the site’s history or layout. As we walked towards the technical site, the atmosphere changed. I found it very difficult to sell the idea that these concrete structures could, or should, be refurbished and the group turned back. It appears that even for Roger’s experienced team, the thought of tackling concrete was decidedly aversive.
We said goodbye to GVA Grimley’s representative and I found I had a few moments to say goodbye to Bruce, the Security Guard. He and his mates were always devoted to their work, not only in keeping to a minimum (or preventing) vandalism, but also for accommodating my periodic visits, as well as those of other enthusiasts and veterans. I have always found the security team at Driffield to be both polite and informative.
On the return journey to Hull (the lads dropped me off just in time for me to sign on), I gained an insight into Roger Collins and his many companies. He was a self-made man. He loved aviation, and was passionate about his work. It didn’t take long for me to realise that he was the right man for the job. He was even classed by the MoD as a preferred bidder – someone with experience in buying married quarters to entire camps.
Like most developers, Roger generally works on a 15% to 18% profit margin, with the cost of buying the site (and updating all the services) being covered by the refurbishment and sale of the married quarters. Anything beyond that was pure profit. Once the hard work was done, the site would then be handed over to a management company, created by Roger himself. He didn’t only care about his properties; he also cared about those who bought into his developments. The premise was simple: offer 20% off each starter home, plus a share in the management company that would run the estate.
The End Game
With the impending sale of RAF Driffield, I suddenly became very busy – writing an endless stream of letters and emails; I was interviewed by the BBC; I persuaded those with a close personal attachment to the camp to write to the Driffield Times. All emails of support, or letters published in local newspapers, were forwarded to both GVA Grimley and Defence Estates, who would ultimately decide the fate of RAF Driffield. I made numerous copies of my articles, and posted them out.
Needing all the help one could get, I even created an online open.gov.uk petition, which read:
“We the undersigned, petition Her Majesty’s Government (Ministry of Defence) to consider the historically important buildings at former RAF Driffield (East Riding of Yorkshire), when choosing a buyer for this site, which is to be sold for redevelopment in 2007.
“When choosing a new owner, the MoD will also be responsible for deciding the fate of this historically important site and associated buildings. This petition requests that the MoD take into consideration the probable fate of these buildings measured against each bid.
“We the undersigned request that the MoD reject any bid which clearly illustrates the intention of the bidder to demolish most (if not all) of the original 1930s architecture.”
Sadly, there were serious delays experienced by open.gov.uk, and it took weeks (not days) for my petition to be approved. As a result, less than 100 signatures were collected. Although grateful that there were people out there who did care, I was still disappointed, but I didn’t give up. While hoping that Roger Collins would be successful in his bid, I decided to take no chances. Accordingly, I wrote to both GVA Grimley and Defence Estates. I also wrote to my MP and the Government Minister responsible for defence estate matters:
To Whom It May Concern:
This letter is to request that you consider the historical fabric of this RAF Driffield, when deciding its fate. I hasten to add that I write independently of those who seek to buy this site. I am a private individual, who wishes that whoever seeks to utilise the original buildings will be given the opportunity to do so.
Over the last years, I have met a number of local Councillors, Planning Officials and local residents, all of whom are concerned about the impending fate of this important landmark. I have also been honoured to meet a number of veterans who were once based at RAF Driffield. They all share my own concerns.
While everyone agrees that job creation and affordable housing are priorities, there is also a deep sense of nostalgia and strong pride attached to the old RAF camp. Its landscape is imbedded in our local culture, and people simply don’t want to see the buildings demolished without good reason. Many would like to see the former married quarters restored and sold to local first-time buyers. The officer’s mess is seen by many as a very iconic structure, which like the rest of the site was built in the 1930s using local labour. Indeed, one of the Security Guards, who until recently guarded the old camp, was the son of a local labourer who helped build the officer’s mess. This is typical of the numerous encounters I’ve experienced over the years.
During a recent shopping trip to ASDA in Hull, I met an elderly gentleman waiting for a bus, who turned out to be a retired Civil Servant, and who once worked in the administration section at RAF Driffield in the 1950s. I recently contacted the Imperial War Museum, asking permission to use a number of old photographs of RAF Driffield for my website. Permission was given by someone whose dad did his National Service at Driffield.
My brother-in-law’s own late father also did his National Service at RAF Driffield. As a child, he had earlier witnessed the German Air Raid on the airfield in August 1940. He would later work in the same officer’s mess that received a direct hit during that very same air raid. Every other day, someone emails me to support my efforts, or to highlight their own connection with Driffield.
Juxtaposing this strong sense of familiarity and pride is the need for change and jobs. The adjoining Kelleythorpe Industrial Estate is approaching full capacity. Former RAF Driffield is ideally placed to offer up both original buildings and land to existing and new businesses starting up in the locale.
What everyone agrees is that to demolish the site and build hundreds and hundreds of new houses would be wrong and not conducive to what is right, and what is needed. Everyone also agrees that the current planning guidelines prohibit mass house building. Everyone also agrees that without a fight, the large house builders will eventually succeed in overturning these planning guidelines on appeal. They have both the time, and the money, to battle through these measures, designed to preserve the balance between need and greed.
The primary objective of any volume house builder is to secure the highest return for its shareholders or investors. Now while the MoD might benefit from selling the site to a high volume house builder, such a move will not benefit the local populace.
It would be ethically wrong for the MoD to speculate on the ability of a buyer to overturn current planning guidelines. It would also be wrong to endorse such practice by selling the site to a developer, when the MoD knew that such planning restrictions were in place. Yes, I appreciate that the MoD is obliged to secure the best possible price for the site, but I also know that the MoD doesn’t have to accept the highest bid. Accordingly, other sites have been sold to those who weren’t the highest bidder.
But there is finally a wind of change. Some buildings on the former RAF camp will be demolished, this I am sure, but everyone agrees that it would be a shameful waste if the site was cleared for the sake of change itself. In the coming months, I will be working with a number of groups and individuals to block any attempt at speculative demolition.
I feel that not only my own concerns or suggestions should be taken into account, but those veterans and local inhabitants who see the camp as being part of their lives as much as Driffield itself. Accordingly, I have also included a printout of emails sent to me over the past few months. What people fear is drastic change. People like Driffield the way it is, and although house building in the 1980s and 1990s has enlarged the market town, the common consensus is “no more”.
What people do want are jobs. Unemployment is noticeable but not problematic. Most of the large employers went out of business or moved away from Driffield by the late 1980s, so when a current business does fail, the number of job losses can be measured in the tens and not hundreds. Accordingly, what are required are small business units, and land on which to build them.
But my priority is the preservation of former RAF Driffield, both in structure and character, through sympathetic (and profitable) redevelopment.
English Heritage
I appreciate the MoD’s scepticism over the importance of RAF Driffield, after English Heritage effectively walked away from the site in 2003. I have been informed that one of the reasons why English Heritage refused to “get involved” was due in part to its involvement with RAF West Raynham. As you maybe aware, English Heritage originally recommended statutory protection for a large number of buildings on this Norfolk aerodrome, but the MoD rejected such plans. In the end, English Heritage withdrew RAF West Raynham from its list of recommendations, and simply moved on – not wanting to add to the list of recommendations, which otherwise would have delayed the process further.
Privately, one or two individuals closely associated with English Heritage have admitted that the recent thematic survey into military airfield structures was flawed, and probably did more harm than good.
English Heritage’s thematic survey, while protecting a number of key buildings, is being used to block additional work that needs to be done. Both the Government (local and central) and English Heritage, can, and have used this thematic survey to “prove” their commitment to our aerodrome heritage, but NOT beyond what has already been done. Yet there are scores of important buildings that were omitted, while desperate individuals (like myself), who are trying to save our local aeronautical heritage, need the support that only statutory protection will provide. We feel let down.
Other sites (apart from Driffield) of comparable importance or completeness, also omitted from the Thematic Survey, include RAF Newton, RAF Kirton on Lindsey, RAF Swinderby, RAF North Coates and RAF Church Fenton. The remaining structures at RAF Tangmere (including the control tower) warrant statutory protection – this being a famous Battle of Britain aerodrome. In recent weeks, nearly 800 veterans and campaigners have signed a petition requesting that the historic fabric of RAF Northolt also be protected.
I’ve given my all in trying to save this historic site (and then some). Yet, I’m wracked with guilt at not being able to do more, which is only surpassed by the stark reality that I know I didn’t do enough.
I beg of you to consider RAF Driffield’s past when deciding its future.
Yours Faithfully
Mr Phillip L K Rhodes
Campaigner to Save RAF Driffield
And with that final letter, my work was done. I could do no more. The deadline had come and gone. It was now time to sit back and just wait…
One trip down memory lane in 1985 convinced me that RAF Driffield was important enough to warrant preservation. The only problem was, I didn’t really know what preservation meant in those days. I guess I simply didn’t want RAF Driffield to completely disappear from my life. Although I still lived in Driffield, I rarely ventured far, signing on the dole on Monday morning and cashing my Giro on Wednesday. After leaving school, my life had fragmented. I was unemployed, and not keen on doing anything, as I will explain in future chapters. These truly were my wilderness years.
That final day, I walked through Kings Mill and towards the camp crossing the newly built Driffield by-pass. I then proceeded to walk west on what was once the Driffield to Malton railway line (long since removed). This route gave me a clear view of the airfield and it wasn’t long before I was exactly inline with the main runway – or what remained of it. A few years before, its width had been reduced from 150ft to around 12ft. When I got as close as I could to the airfield without trespassing, I stopped and stood, looking intensely towards our collective past. There was no spiritual revelation. I just felt terribly sad that so much in recent years had been taken away from this once proud aerodrome. It would be another ten years before I would return to RAF Driffield. In 1986 our family broke apart, and I eventually ended up living in Bridlington.
In the months following the closure of RAF Driffield in 1996, I gradually drifted towards the notion that saving the site needed to be one of life’s priorities. That said, it wasn’t a case of waking up one morning and declaring my unconditional loyalty to the cause. Nor had all the options or ramifications been carefully weighed. There certainly wasn’t a plan of action. Before the closure of RAF Driffield, I was totally unaware that our aerodrome heritage was in such a poor state of fragmentation and disrepair.
But how do you save an abandoned aerodrome, and who do you turn to for help? Surely someone, somewhere, would be able to step in and prevent the site from being flattened. RAF Driffield has a rich and diverse heritage, second to none.
I was both a slow learner, and naive to the point of being gormless. That said, at least I tried. Like many concerned with their local heritage, I wrote letters to those I thought would be helpful. However, most proved to be the exact opposite. So, how do you save an abandoned aerodrome? Don’t ask me! Ten years later and I’m still trying.
The first thing I did was telephone the MoD – Defence Estates (Catterick), saying I was interested in seeing some of the buildings at Driffield given statutory protection. I spoke to Geoff Dixon, who at the time was responsible for disposals. I argued the case for preservation, and thought it vital that some of the buildings be awarded listed status. Without thinking, when asked which buildings, I suggested the water tower and the decontamination block. Coincidence or not, they were the first of three or four buildings to be demolished – thereafter I kept my mouth shut.
Over the years, I have written countless letters and emails hoping to secure support, information or helpful advice. All I got was an endless stream of patronising rejections. I wrote to the Phoenix Trust (and its affiliate: Regeneration through Heritage), English Heritage, the Association of Preservation Trusts, Building Preservation Fund, Army Training Estate, The Empty Homes Agency, Reserve Forces and Cadet Association, Royal Air Force Benevolent Fund, Business Link Humber, Yorkshire Forward, Driffield Area Partnership, Intervention Board, Driffield Town Council, Kirkburn Parish Council, East Riding of Yorkshire Council, Airfield Research Group and Airfields of Britain Conservation Trust. Etcetera. Etcetera. Etcetera.
What drove me to despair was all the tea and sympathy. Sympathy won’t save RAF Driffield, and I don’t drink tea.
One of my first projects was the creation of a discussion document, which outlined my various proposals. I envisaged a sheltered housing scheme for ex-servicemen, utilising the former married quarters and accommodation blocks. A museum was always on the cards, with the officer’s mess being an obvious candidate. Add numerous business units and community sports facilities, and 90% of the buildings could have easily been reused. Simple – but alas not profitable. I still have that “Discussion Document Mk1”. My primary objective and mission statement was: “The preservation of Royal Air Force Station Driffield – both in structure and character”.
Throughout the Strategic Defence Review and subsequent Defence Training Review, it was obvious that my thirst for news was shared by both the Parish Council and County Council. Information was scarce. It appears (looking through the numerous replies from my MP) that most of my efforts were directed towards securing the latest news.
The local Parish Council were fascinated by my later proposals and felt that: “Developments along these lines would not be unwelcome.” Then another reply would suggest that I “should also be aware that not everyone shares your views, or your vision for the preservation of this site”. That said, it was suggested that my proposal to create a small landing field, effectively reopening the aerodrome, was “a good idea”. Although named RAF Driffield, the aerodrome falls within the boundary of the Kirkburn Parish Council – much to the annoyance of the Driffield Town Council.
Site Visit
In December 1998, Defence Estates allowed me to revisit RAF Driffield. For the life of me I can’t remember the exact date, but early one morning (one day in early 1999), I arrived at the portable security cabin (located next to the officer’s mess) and presented my letter of authorisation to one of the security guards. Together, we walked from the makeshift guardroom and towards the main camp area, which was fenced off.
That morning, the camp was swamped by mist that made the officer’s mess stand out in isolation. The ground floor windows had been boarded up, and had been since the 1970s. As we walked, we talked about the camp and our own personal attachment to it. The security guard’s own father helped build the officer’s mess in the mid 1930s. I photographed everything I could, using a borrowed Olympus SLR camera loaded with Ilford XP2 film, making sure not to miss a single building. Since the camp had closed, the water tower had been demolished, and they were currently working on removing the decontamination block. That morning was what I needed, both to recharge my batteries and to gain an insight into what needed to be done.
From the perspective of any developer or campaigner, the site is a daunting expanse of open spaces and empty buildings. It takes time and knowledge to realise that the site can be saved and returned to gainful employment, while becoming an attractive part of the landscape.
During the tour, my guide stopped at one of the accommodation blocks. He then radioed his colleague to ask what the entry code was for this particular building. Keying in the four digit code gave us access to a building that was much on my mind. Post-war it had been expanded, and in later years had been used as a families’ centre and junior ranks club. In my scheme of things, it was to become the estate office, station archive and my home. And here I was walking through the very same building. Spooky.
All the buildings showed varying degrees of decay. Most of the brick built structures could easily be rejuvenated, but the concrete castings that made up the technical buildings were a real concern. Yet, with a little online research, it was evident that such structures could be restored and made good for another 80 years.
It was a surreal experience walking back in time. If it wasn’t for the overgrown vegetation, it could have been the warm summer’s day in 1976, when dad asked me to walk to the NAAFI shop to buy a bottle of Tizer, while he painted the family car in one of the MT Section garages used by the RAF Driffield Motoring Club.
That morning, the security guard’s 20 minute walk-round took two hours to complete.
WANTED: Expert to save RAF Driffield
Eager to secure some sort of statutory protection, I telephoned Paul Francis, a guru for us anorak aerodrome explorers and campaigners. He has written a number of authoritative [and successful] books on the subject of aerodrome architecture. English Heritage had also tasked him with much research and various site evaluations, which contributed towards English Heritage’s thematic survey. Firstly, I was informed that Driffield had come second to RAF West Raynham. Secondly, he wasn’t aware that RAF Driffield had been visited by English Heritage. I was eager to find out if he could help.
The good news is that Paul was a freelance researcher and was able to undertake a site visit and full, written, site evaluation. Being an expert in his chosen field meant that what he wrote would be taken seriously, both by English Heritage and the DCMS. Unfortunately my Giro (welfare cheque) wouldn’t stretch to employing his services. Although he thought RAF Driffield was important enough to warrant further investigation, Paul earns a living from visiting sites and writing unbiased reports. Even his travel expenses were beyond my means. That said, I knew then (as now) that a site visit from him, and his expert opinion, would go a long way towards success, if not securing blanket listing, then at least securing statutory protection for the officer’s mess and other threatened structures.
He gave me one piece of advice: Be objective in your persuasion. Being subjective (emotional) won’t persuade those who have the power to award statutory protection. Begging to save RAF Driffield is a waste of energy. It also makes you look foolish.
It took me years to realise that this is partly true; that being an objective wordsmith, better than the opposition, can score you points and thus secure the future of our past. Yet, being totally objective is virtually impossible (maybe because if I become one of ‘them’, then I too would walk away from RAF Driffield). Not that I admit to being escapist. The only way RAF Driffield is to survive is through profitable enterprise. My opinion is that you secure favour through word play. If you can talk the hind legs off a donkey, then you’re doing well, but if you can beat Shakespeare at Scrabble, then you call the shots.
Another problem I have – apart from procrastination – is the inability to focus. I telephoned Paul Francis in 1999. Months later, I secured a paid job. Why didn’t I commission him then, instead of buying all that bloody sushi? Another admission is that saving RAF Driffield was never a 24/7 enterprise. Periodically, I would switch off – not only from RAF Driffield, but from other pet projects or even from mundane tasks, such as my increasingly untidy flat. But RAF Driffield would always be there at the back of my mind, only to surface periodically, when prompted by events. I didn’t have much of a life, but it was a life in need of servicing, and subconsciously walking away from RAF Driffield is what saved me.
Strong Foundations
A few months after my visit to the camp, I returned with Geoffrey Simmons, one of two Authors of “Strong Foundations”, the Hutton Press best seller on the history of the aerodrome. On this day, we also accessed the hangars and the Army Cadet Force enclave. Walking into one of the giant hangars was a revelation. There, hidden behind the outer metal shutters, were the original windows, still in pristine condition. The concrete flooring of one of the hangars still retained the scars of war, with visible bomb fragmentation marks from when the aerodrome was bombed in 1940. We were also allowed to look into the foyer of the officer’s mess. No one, not even the security guards or site manager, had entered the building in years and we were only allowed to look through the open door. It was a mess. The interior was full of bird excrement, and the wooden floor had almost rotted away.
Control Tower
My first pet project – or wacky idea – was to rebuild the control tower. The original was demolished in 1976, and I felt it only right that it should be rebuilt. For many, the control tower was the beating heart of any working aerodrome. My proposal was to establish a small museum with limited opening times, which would be manned by volunteers, with all proceeds going to the RAF Benevolent Fund. The idea was to move an existing building from another site (Wattisham, Watton or West Raynham), or build an exact replica, using original parts scavenged from far and wide. But alas, while the Intervention Board were sympathetic, they were unable to sell me the small 28ft x 22ft plot of land on which the original control tower once stood; land which they now owned.
They wrote: “As a Government Department, we are required to regularly review the need to retain sites within the Government estate. In all likelihood, we shall one day wish to sell the [Driffield] site. The separate ownership of a small piece of land on which you would like to purchase is likely to impede or unnecessarily complicate any future sale.”
Following the sale of the site in early 2006, I again tried to buy the same plot of land, but alas, the new owners didn’t want to know either. Though the hangars are “safe’ for the time being, it is possible that the new owners are protecting their investment. Current planning guidelines will change (allowing house building) and without a detailed schedule of refurbishment, I fear that these structures will eventually succumb to the wrecking ball. It is difficult to escape the feeling that time is running out, not only for Driffield, but for other aerodromes too: both the control towers at Wattisham and Watton have now been demolished.
Begging to he Heard
Probably my most desperate act was to publicly beg for funds. Private Eye is a British satirical magazine, which apart from having an unenviable talent for constantly being sued for libel, is also renowned for its quirky classified adverts. Most notably is the Eye Need section, in which desperate individuals pay good money to place small adverts begging for even more money. Single mums, destitute students and aviation enthusiasts begging to be heard have all tried Eye Need. The following was placed in the magazine in November 2004:
AVIATION ENTHUSIAST seeks campaign funds to help save historical aerodrome RBS 11-22-11 12345678
That’s 14 words at £2.50 each. The modest insertion into the magazine had an instant result: I instantly became poorer by £35. And the response? Sweet bugger all. I guess you live and learn. I lived without food for a week, and learned never to waste £35 on a daft ploy to scrounge money. Then again, with no one taking the preservation of RAF Driffield seriously, it proved impossible to secure funds from the various charitable bodies, who did have the money, such as the Heritage Lottery Fund, Phoenix Trust (Regeneration through Heritage), English Heritage, the Association of Preservation Trusts, Building Preservation Fund, Business Link Humber and Yorkshire Forward.
Grand Designs
They say a picture is worth a thousand words. One problem has been trying to illustrate what I mean by “preservation through sympathetic and profitable redevelopment”. A lack of sufficient funds prevented me from commissioning an artist’s digital 3D rendition of what the site would look like if preserved. I wanted to show others my vision – of historic buildings juxtaposed against new-build structures. I wanted to visualise what a modern glass encased Hangar 5 would look like next to a restored Hangar 4. I also wanted to show developers and investors (not to mention the Local Planning Authority), that you could easily cram many new houses and several business units onto the site, without having to employ a wrecking ball. In desperation, I wrote to the Phoenix Trust again, and even to the local architectural school, but I was on my own.
Unfortunately, I’m not an artist. Even securing a digital map would have set me back several hundred quid. I did enrol onto a CAD course with Hull College, but alas I didn’t have any software at home to practice with, and so I gave up after three or four weeks. You’d spend three hours a week in college, and then spend half of the following lesson trying to pick up on what you did the week before. It was frustrating, and a waste of my time.
Creating a series of plans and illustrations became an obsession. I knew it was going to be the only way to convince others that my proposals were credible.
I would often walk the streets in a daze, thinking about impossible dreams or “what shall I have for tea?” or how to save this important site (impossible dream?). Then suddenly I’d pick on something, like a discarded flyer for some pizza parlour or raunchy nightclub. I would kill to have an account with printing.com or have the services of a designer on tap. Most weeks I’d struggle just to pay the bills, and there, lying on the ground, is a discarded flyer. And another. And another.
For years I wanted to sell the preservation of RAF Driffield to a sceptical audience. I fantasised about doing a newsletter, but without the funds, it wasn’t going to happen. And there, in the back of my mind, was the realisation that the good people of Driffield simply didn’t want to know anyway. Did I want to add to the discarded flyers that already litter our streets?
Rumour Control
When not trying to sell the dream of preserving RAF Driffield, I would chase down rumours – writing more letters, seeking clarification or enlightenment. Rumours were rampant when it came to the old camp, and under the Freedom of Information Act, I sought reassurances that Driffield camp would not become the site for a new prison or detention centre for failed asylum seekers. I tracked down MoD units, asking if they could confirm speculation that they plan to move to Driffield. The RAF Search and Rescue helicopters were moving to Driffield. No, they weren’t. No.12 (Air Support) Engineer Brigade were to move to Driffield. Wrong again.
With the MoD taking so long to decide the fate of RAF Driffield, rumouring became a local pastime. People either didn’t want to know, or they were convinced that the site would become home to this, that or the other.
Read all about it...
The new millennium brought with it the opportunity to write again for the Driffield Times, and also the Driffield Post (now owned by the same company). My first article, reproduced in this publication, highlighted the historic bombing of RAF Driffield in 1940. This proved quite popular, with a moderately good reader feedback. Less popular were my lengthy arguments for preserving the site. No one bothered to write in, which proved a long standing truth about the good people of Driffield. Threaten to close the local hospital, and they’re ready to kill, but argue the case for preserving a 230/36 latrine block, and they just don’t want to know. Only kidding.
I was also responsible for breaking the story about the sale of both the hangars and then the main camp – news discovered during my routine internet scavenges for information on RAF Driffield.
East Riding of Yorkshire Council
Following on from my meeting with English Heritage, detailed in a separate chapter, I was able to meet up with planning officials from the East Riding of Yorkshire Council. Present at the meeting on November 5th 2004 were Eva Ormrod (Conservation Officer), Tom Barnes (Forward Planning) and Steve Devey (Team Leader – Conservation Landscape & Archaeology). It was during this meeting that I tried my best to fathom the complexities of planning. Like all Councils, there exists a series of complex guidelines that largely dictate what can be built and where. Talking to Tom Barnes, it was clear that building houses on the site wasn’t going to be allowed under any circumstances. This was good news. It was also bad news. It meant it would be improbable that the site would be cleared for housing. It also meant that in my own scheme of things, the building of 80 houses (needed to make the project viable) also wouldn’t be permitted.
Talking to the Council, it was obvious that the airfield was safe. The return of flying to Driffield wouldn’t pose a problem, but building a new hard runway would be. The existing houses could be reused; it being the opinion of those present that this also wouldn’t be an issue.
The bad news is that the Council felt it inappropriate to award RAF Driffield conservation area status, and even if it did, that would not prevent some of the buildings being demolished. The overriding opinion was that the camp was a strategic redevelopment opportunity, and that its preservation was a low priority.
My most recent contact with the East Riding of Yorkshire Council was with Malte Klöckner (Assistant Conservation Officer). The hangars were about to be put on the market, and I wanted them awarded some form of statutory protection – in order to weed out any developer who was planning to build houses on the site. So we both travelled to Driffield and there I was asked: “Why do you think these buildings should be listed?” I paused, and then realised I didn’t know what to say or how to put across my argument. I dried. Now, if Paul Francis was present (or any expert), they could have easily spieled off a few well structured sentences – speaking the lingo unique to Conservation Officers and English Heritage types – needed to convince those from on high (DCMS) that the hangars be recommended for statutory protection.
I simply died and accordingly my feeble arguments didn’t hold much water. Another wasted journey? Weeks later and Malte Klöckner emailed: “I asked my colleagues and managers, and they said that they would not support listing of the hangers. As you are aware, there are discussions at the moment with potential investors. The planning officers support any scheme that uses the hangers instead of taking them down.”
www.driffieldaerodrome.co.uk
Concerned that RAF Driffield might end up like so many other disused aerodromes and military camps – demolished – in January 2004, I launched a website that highlights and campaigns for the future of this aerodrome. By September 2007, the number of hits reached 12,000. Subsequently, over the years, I have received, and continue to receive, messages of support from near and far. Driffield, and its neighbouring aerodrome, remain in the hearts of many who once called RAF Driffield their home. From America, Canada, New Zealand, and Australia – many share my passion and concern for this former air base. Across Britain – from the Isle of Lewis down to Plymouth, it appears that I’m not the only one concerned for the future of RAF Driffield.
Roger and Me
In 2006, I emailed the new owners of RAF West Raynham. My hope is that if demolished, the buildings on this Norfolk aerodrome could provide some useful reclamation, needed in the restoration of similar buildings on other sites. I was surprised to discover that the new owner of RAF West Raynham once lived at Driffield. Roger Collins was born into the RAF. His father was a pilot during the Second World War, and would later be posted to RAF Driffield, where he flew the DH Mosquito with No.204 Advance Flying School. Roger was born in Driffield, and his first home was one of the Warrant Officer married quarters (since demolished).
Instead of following in his father’s footsteps, Roger became a successful property developer. He specialises in redeveloping surplus Government property – mostly former married quarters. He lives and worked part-time in Norway, and has property investments around the world. He appeared to be too good to be true – but surprisingly, he was legit – it was all true. Incredible.
As soon as I discovered that the camp at Driffield was to be sold, I emailed Roger. His response was electric. Not only was he interested in buying RAF Driffield, he wanted me to show his team around the site. His Finance Director even offered me a consultancy job (if Roger’s bid was successful). On January 12th, I travelled to Beverley to meet up with Alan Radley and Steve Jones, two of Roger’s Co-Directors. Also present was surveyor Graham Jones, from Tickton, near Beverley.
Roger chose Squadron Investments to develop the site, which was one of the many companies that formed The Welbeck Estate Group. The company also has a sizeable residential holding in Beverley, Hull and in Lincolnshire. Roger had even managed to buy some of the former married quarters at Driffield back in the 1990s.
Before we continued on our journey towards Driffield, we sat down for a coffee and talked about RAF Driffield and Roger’s plans for the site. Despite our collective enthusiasm for developing the site, Roger Collins was not going to be the only bidder. We talked tactics. I suggested that they hire Paul Francis to undertake a site visit and write a detailed site evaluation, to ensure that both GVA Grimley and Defence Estates were aware of the historical value of the buildings, but this idea was not acted upon. That said, would it have been allowed?
After our meeting, we travelled to Driffield in two cars, meeting up with a representative from GVA Grimley on site. I was under strict instructions to keep quiet.
Sadly, due to health and safety concerns, we weren’t allowed in any of the buildings. That said, I insisted that we be allowed entry into the married quarters, which were in a separate fenced compound from the rest of the camp. Luckily, some of the houses were unsecured; or rather the front doors were missing. I was taken aback by the moderately good condition of these properties – more so since they hadn’t been lived in for some twenty years. However, I was rather frustrated at the deliberate damage to the brickwork surrounding the front doors. Although used in recent years by the SAS and prison service, the bricks appeared to have been recently smashed – possibly to deter those wishing to refurbish these properties?
Graham’s job was to value these houses (if refurbished). He estimated them to be worth in the region of £100k each or £6.8m for the 68 properties.
It was clear that there was a lot of interest in the sale, with “several big names” also visiting the site. GVA Grimley were as keen as we were at keeping the exchange of information to a minimum. I strongly suggested that some effort be given to turning the “H” Blocks into spacious apartments. I suggested that if converted, the eight accommodation blocks would provide 48 units worth around £150k each or £7.2m.
Periodically, I would be asked a question about some aspect of the site, usually along the lines of “when…” or “what…”. I offered up as much information as I could recall about every aspect of the site’s history or layout. As we walked towards the technical site, the atmosphere changed. I found it very difficult to sell the idea that these concrete structures could, or should, be refurbished and the group turned back. It appears that even for Roger’s experienced team, the thought of tackling concrete was decidedly aversive.
We said goodbye to GVA Grimley’s representative and I found I had a few moments to say goodbye to Bruce, the Security Guard. He and his mates were always devoted to their work, not only in keeping to a minimum (or preventing) vandalism, but also for accommodating my periodic visits, as well as those of other enthusiasts and veterans. I have always found the security team at Driffield to be both polite and informative.
On the return journey to Hull (the lads dropped me off just in time for me to sign on), I gained an insight into Roger Collins and his many companies. He was a self-made man. He loved aviation, and was passionate about his work. It didn’t take long for me to realise that he was the right man for the job. He was even classed by the MoD as a preferred bidder – someone with experience in buying married quarters to entire camps.
Like most developers, Roger generally works on a 15% to 18% profit margin, with the cost of buying the site (and updating all the services) being covered by the refurbishment and sale of the married quarters. Anything beyond that was pure profit. Once the hard work was done, the site would then be handed over to a management company, created by Roger himself. He didn’t only care about his properties; he also cared about those who bought into his developments. The premise was simple: offer 20% off each starter home, plus a share in the management company that would run the estate.
The End Game
With the impending sale of RAF Driffield, I suddenly became very busy – writing an endless stream of letters and emails; I was interviewed by the BBC; I persuaded those with a close personal attachment to the camp to write to the Driffield Times. All emails of support, or letters published in local newspapers, were forwarded to both GVA Grimley and Defence Estates, who would ultimately decide the fate of RAF Driffield. I made numerous copies of my articles, and posted them out.
Needing all the help one could get, I even created an online open.gov.uk petition, which read:
“We the undersigned, petition Her Majesty’s Government (Ministry of Defence) to consider the historically important buildings at former RAF Driffield (East Riding of Yorkshire), when choosing a buyer for this site, which is to be sold for redevelopment in 2007.
“When choosing a new owner, the MoD will also be responsible for deciding the fate of this historically important site and associated buildings. This petition requests that the MoD take into consideration the probable fate of these buildings measured against each bid.
“We the undersigned request that the MoD reject any bid which clearly illustrates the intention of the bidder to demolish most (if not all) of the original 1930s architecture.”
Sadly, there were serious delays experienced by open.gov.uk, and it took weeks (not days) for my petition to be approved. As a result, less than 100 signatures were collected. Although grateful that there were people out there who did care, I was still disappointed, but I didn’t give up. While hoping that Roger Collins would be successful in his bid, I decided to take no chances. Accordingly, I wrote to both GVA Grimley and Defence Estates. I also wrote to my MP and the Government Minister responsible for defence estate matters:
To Whom It May Concern:
This letter is to request that you consider the historical fabric of this RAF Driffield, when deciding its fate. I hasten to add that I write independently of those who seek to buy this site. I am a private individual, who wishes that whoever seeks to utilise the original buildings will be given the opportunity to do so.
Over the last years, I have met a number of local Councillors, Planning Officials and local residents, all of whom are concerned about the impending fate of this important landmark. I have also been honoured to meet a number of veterans who were once based at RAF Driffield. They all share my own concerns.
While everyone agrees that job creation and affordable housing are priorities, there is also a deep sense of nostalgia and strong pride attached to the old RAF camp. Its landscape is imbedded in our local culture, and people simply don’t want to see the buildings demolished without good reason. Many would like to see the former married quarters restored and sold to local first-time buyers. The officer’s mess is seen by many as a very iconic structure, which like the rest of the site was built in the 1930s using local labour. Indeed, one of the Security Guards, who until recently guarded the old camp, was the son of a local labourer who helped build the officer’s mess. This is typical of the numerous encounters I’ve experienced over the years.
During a recent shopping trip to ASDA in Hull, I met an elderly gentleman waiting for a bus, who turned out to be a retired Civil Servant, and who once worked in the administration section at RAF Driffield in the 1950s. I recently contacted the Imperial War Museum, asking permission to use a number of old photographs of RAF Driffield for my website. Permission was given by someone whose dad did his National Service at Driffield.
My brother-in-law’s own late father also did his National Service at RAF Driffield. As a child, he had earlier witnessed the German Air Raid on the airfield in August 1940. He would later work in the same officer’s mess that received a direct hit during that very same air raid. Every other day, someone emails me to support my efforts, or to highlight their own connection with Driffield.
Juxtaposing this strong sense of familiarity and pride is the need for change and jobs. The adjoining Kelleythorpe Industrial Estate is approaching full capacity. Former RAF Driffield is ideally placed to offer up both original buildings and land to existing and new businesses starting up in the locale.
What everyone agrees is that to demolish the site and build hundreds and hundreds of new houses would be wrong and not conducive to what is right, and what is needed. Everyone also agrees that the current planning guidelines prohibit mass house building. Everyone also agrees that without a fight, the large house builders will eventually succeed in overturning these planning guidelines on appeal. They have both the time, and the money, to battle through these measures, designed to preserve the balance between need and greed.
The primary objective of any volume house builder is to secure the highest return for its shareholders or investors. Now while the MoD might benefit from selling the site to a high volume house builder, such a move will not benefit the local populace.
It would be ethically wrong for the MoD to speculate on the ability of a buyer to overturn current planning guidelines. It would also be wrong to endorse such practice by selling the site to a developer, when the MoD knew that such planning restrictions were in place. Yes, I appreciate that the MoD is obliged to secure the best possible price for the site, but I also know that the MoD doesn’t have to accept the highest bid. Accordingly, other sites have been sold to those who weren’t the highest bidder.
But there is finally a wind of change. Some buildings on the former RAF camp will be demolished, this I am sure, but everyone agrees that it would be a shameful waste if the site was cleared for the sake of change itself. In the coming months, I will be working with a number of groups and individuals to block any attempt at speculative demolition.
I feel that not only my own concerns or suggestions should be taken into account, but those veterans and local inhabitants who see the camp as being part of their lives as much as Driffield itself. Accordingly, I have also included a printout of emails sent to me over the past few months. What people fear is drastic change. People like Driffield the way it is, and although house building in the 1980s and 1990s has enlarged the market town, the common consensus is “no more”.
What people do want are jobs. Unemployment is noticeable but not problematic. Most of the large employers went out of business or moved away from Driffield by the late 1980s, so when a current business does fail, the number of job losses can be measured in the tens and not hundreds. Accordingly, what are required are small business units, and land on which to build them.
But my priority is the preservation of former RAF Driffield, both in structure and character, through sympathetic (and profitable) redevelopment.
English Heritage
I appreciate the MoD’s scepticism over the importance of RAF Driffield, after English Heritage effectively walked away from the site in 2003. I have been informed that one of the reasons why English Heritage refused to “get involved” was due in part to its involvement with RAF West Raynham. As you maybe aware, English Heritage originally recommended statutory protection for a large number of buildings on this Norfolk aerodrome, but the MoD rejected such plans. In the end, English Heritage withdrew RAF West Raynham from its list of recommendations, and simply moved on – not wanting to add to the list of recommendations, which otherwise would have delayed the process further.
Privately, one or two individuals closely associated with English Heritage have admitted that the recent thematic survey into military airfield structures was flawed, and probably did more harm than good.
English Heritage’s thematic survey, while protecting a number of key buildings, is being used to block additional work that needs to be done. Both the Government (local and central) and English Heritage, can, and have used this thematic survey to “prove” their commitment to our aerodrome heritage, but NOT beyond what has already been done. Yet there are scores of important buildings that were omitted, while desperate individuals (like myself), who are trying to save our local aeronautical heritage, need the support that only statutory protection will provide. We feel let down.
Other sites (apart from Driffield) of comparable importance or completeness, also omitted from the Thematic Survey, include RAF Newton, RAF Kirton on Lindsey, RAF Swinderby, RAF North Coates and RAF Church Fenton. The remaining structures at RAF Tangmere (including the control tower) warrant statutory protection – this being a famous Battle of Britain aerodrome. In recent weeks, nearly 800 veterans and campaigners have signed a petition requesting that the historic fabric of RAF Northolt also be protected.
I’ve given my all in trying to save this historic site (and then some). Yet, I’m wracked with guilt at not being able to do more, which is only surpassed by the stark reality that I know I didn’t do enough.
I beg of you to consider RAF Driffield’s past when deciding its future.
Yours Faithfully
Mr Phillip L K Rhodes
Campaigner to Save RAF Driffield
And with that final letter, my work was done. I could do no more. The deadline had come and gone. It was now time to sit back and just wait…
