Tag Archives: Battle of Britain House

A walk with Miles Gillman

My phone rang one day last March. I didn’t seem to recognize the number. These days, I tend to communicate via email, social media and a multitude of internet messengers, so receiving a direct call is a bit unexpected. And when I do, it’s usually wrong numbers, cold automated calls, or bad news…

But I was soon delighted to find out it was none of that – at all. The caller was Mr Miles Gillman of Northwood, a Friend of Ruislip Woods and trustee of the Ruislip Woods Trust. Having just read through a recent article of mine about the Battle of Britain House that went out with the RWT Newsletter, he went on to congratulate me about the write, and the renewed interest it has sparked over the history of the ruined mansion in Ruislip Woods. He also seemed eager to share his own experience of the site, as well as a very interesting theory about the mansion : for he had reasons to suspect that an underground Cold War bunker may have existed nearby.

“Will you show me?!” I asked, instantly hooked on the prospect of peeling back more layers of the history of the mansion. We promptly set up a meetup at the woods for late April.

What lies beneath ?

The meetup

I met Mr Gillman, Miles, at the mansion’s steps on a sunny Saturday morning. He was in great spirits, and happy to be back to Ruislip Woods after quite some time. I was equally delighted with the opportunity to meet him and record his story. I was in for a treat !

We proceeded to a clearing next to the mansion and its car park. It is an area as big as an average garden, and reasonably flat. Miles remembers the existence of a hut there : he describes it as a cabin with a lower and an upper level, and perhaps a balcony. I am instantly reminded of the Annexe, an outhouse which used to accommodate the students, au-pairs and other guests that lodged at the Battle of Britain House :

“There still remained another newer building in the grounds which had been used as a
dormitory and not touched by the fire, but in spite of being boarded up it was eventuallyvandalised and had to be demolished”

Colin Bowlt
Ruislip, Northwood & Eastcote Local History Society 2011 Journal
An artists’ impression of the Annexe from a 1960s leaflet

This Annexe was clearly a later building, possibly post-war. It would have been erected during a time when the mansion was transitioning to its new utility as a residential college. And then Miles dropped a proverbial bomb : he maintains that the Annexe might have been a cover for a Cold-War era ROTOR Station.

ROTOR and the Cold War

A few words about ROTOR (which as far as I’m aware is a code name, rather than an acronym). In the early days of the Cold war, one of the the greatest threats posed to Britain was from Soviet bombers performing a potential sneak nuclear attack. The Soviets had acquired U.S. long range bomber technology since 1945, when on four separate occasions, B-29 Superfortress bombers crash landed in Siberia on their return from bombing raids over Japan. The Soviets surveyed the wrecks and proceeded to reverse engineer an exact clone of the B29 into what would become their own Tupolev Tu-4 in 1947. By 1951, the Soviets had also being successful in detonating an air dropped nuclear device, code named RDS-3. It was nearly 3 times as powerful as the Hiroshima bomb.

Uncanny similarities (photo sources here and here)

This was the threat the ROTOR system was meant to counter. It utilized elements of the existing Chain Home early warning system, consolidated and upgraded with the latest Radar technology, a new command and communications structure, and all new, nuclear bomb-proof installations that comprised an underground bunker with a distinctive bungalow on top to serve as living quarters for the operators. The ROTOR bunker hut’s design was very distinctive, probably the outcome of a common blueprint.

The ROTOR hut at Kelvedon Hatch vis-a-vis the Annexe at Ruislip Woods

There certainly are differences and similarities here, but it’s difficult to establish a match as the Ruslip Woods hut is now long gone. What remains, however, is the wide flat area where the Annexe once stood, which still remains mysteriously clear from the large trees and thick foliage of the area immediately surrounding it. So could there be something underneath?

It’s difficult to tell. Miles has visited the site a number of times with friends from Subterranea Brittanica , a well known project that have been charting Britain’s underground heritage for decades. They also speculate that the Annexe may have resembled a typical ROTOR hut. Yet there should have been other visible clues, like ventilation shafts or solid bases for Radar dishes and other above ground elements – but there are none visible. Although maybe these are still around, somewhere out of sight. Or maybe they have been removed, or covered by nature over the years.

ROTOR guard hut at RAF Goldsborough, Yorkshire / image © from OneLife – 28 Day Later

Today, the location of every ROTOR site in Britain is public domain, but as you might expect, Ruislip Woods doesn’t feature. So was there ever anything there, after all? Miles suggests that metal detectors or a ground penetrating radar might be the only way to answer that question. And I have some eyebrow-raising questions of my own. For someone has told me in confidence how there has been top secret training taking place at the Battle of Britain House well into the 60s, and it had to do with radar technology… And another testimony has emerged, vividly describing the gruff looking military men who attended courses at the mansion during the same period… I will be relating these stories in detail on future posts. All will be revealed !

In the end, the post-war technology race saw the Soviets and the Western Allies constantly vying to top each other. Faster, jet powered nuclear bombers were being built, prompting the need for earlier warning and better radars to upgrade ROTOR with. By 1959 the Soviets had successfully launched their first intercontinental ballistic missile, soon to be armed with nuclear weapons. This new technology, and the proliferation of nuclear armed missiles that came with it changed the strategic defense outlook dramatically. There was no point in maintaining a complex system to warn about a bomber – or ten – entering one’s airspace. If there was an attack, the Soviets would do well to throw everything at it, every bomber and every missile, eventually overwhelming the defenses. So the new doctrine aimed to detect missiles at launch, and hopefully prompt an immediate retaliatory response within the 15 to 25 minutes it’d take for the Soviet blow to land. So in the 60s, the ROTOR system was abandoned in favour of airborne and over-the-horizon radar systems that could detect a missile launch thousands of miles away.

The Ice House

We now found ourselves walking along the old driveway towards the Ducks Hill road gatehouse, talking excitedly about rumours and possibilities. I felt compelled to ask Miles whether he might know what those mysterious stone walls built against and earth bank were, so close to the old gatehouse and driveway? He believes those are the remains of an Ice House that may have existed here. (I regret that for all the times I’ve seen the remains of those stone walls, I couldn’t find a single picture in my collection – but I promise I will as soon as I visit the site again).

Ice House at Ruislip Woods / Battle of Britain House
The Ice House. Maybe.

Before the invention of refrigeration, people depended on ice houses to preserve perishables. Those were underground stone or brick chambers packed with ice brought in from frozen lakes or rivers in the winter, or sometimes imported from as far as Scandinavia. The thick walls of the structure coupled with the lower underground temperature meant that ice could last from winter to winter before it needed replenishment, providing businesses and important households with adequate refrigeration all year around. There are still many surviving examples in the UK.

A typical ice house at Eglinton Country Park, Scotland / image source : Wikipedia Commons

So could these indeed the remains of an Ice House? Perhaps. The mansion was a stately home, and a farmhouse before that. Ruislip Woods were famed for the game that could once be hunted there, particularly pheasants, that may have been hunted there up to the 1930’s. So it is possible that a cold storage might have once existed, at least until there wasn’t a need for one anymore. At any case, it is great to finally have a working theory about the mysterious stone wall next to the driveway.

Ice House at Ruislip Woods / Battle of Britain House
The Ice House. Maybe.

The Shooting Range

Our next stop is the part of the woods adjacent to the Battle of Britain House, roughly between the ruin and Poor’s Field. Soon, we come across a sizable horseshoe-shaped mound. It looks like what it might have been : a firing range for the agents who trained in Ruislip Woods during the war.

The firing range

I’d seen photos of it through the years, but never got to see it in person before today. And it is surprising that I’ve missed it, having unknowingly walked next to it several times ! Firearms training would have been integral to the agents’ preparation for para-dropping into enemy territory. Their weapons of choice would be the British Sten gun or its US counterpart M3 (often referred to as the Grease Gun). Miles showed me one of the spent cartridge cases that have been found in the vicinity of the range.

A spent cartridge case from Ruislip Woods

It is an amazing find that demonstrates the possible use of this area for discharging firearms. I’ve read that metal detectorists have found a fake hand grenade that would have been used for throw training in the same vicinity a few years back.

A spent cartridge case from Ruislip Woods

I am not an expert, but at first glance it looks like a rimmed cartridge case (meaning without a characteristic flange around its base). This fact might limit the search for the weapon type drastically, but corrosion didn’t help in this case, since the cap markings are totally illegible. If you know of an expert who can identify the cartridge case, please do ask them to get in touch.

The Pumping House

And there were yet more discoveries to be made. In the near distance, past a picture-perfect bluebell clearing, I could see the outline of a brick structure. Getting closer, it was evident that this wasn’t a living space : it looked rather like a workshop or machine room. Miles believes that this used to be a Pumping House, possibly to mechanically draw water from a nearby source.

Miles Gillman exploring the Pumping House

And there is mention of such a venture in local history groups – one that has led to misadventure, so to speak. In 1942, the Colne Valley Water Company (the precursor to Three Valleys Water) committed to establish a water well in this part of the woods. The drilling was successful, but didn’t yield the expected amount of water. Towards the end of the war, it was decided to bore an additional tunnel which roughly followed the contour of the Northern side of the Ruislip Lido reservoir into Poor’s Field. A pumping station was built to aid in the extraction of water from the well.

A crank shaft cradle? at the pumping station

However, the water yield from the well remained unsatisfactory, despite the mechanical aid. And to make things worse, mysterious swallow holes began appearing close to the Ruislip Lido. According to geologists, these dangerous holes were a result of the collapse of the layers of chalk under Poor’s Field. There were 6 or more such collapses between 1944 and the early 1960s’, all in connection to the operation of the well and the changes it brought about to the geology of the woods. That fact and the low yield eventually led to the well being abandoned.

An underground chamber filled with water and debris

Today, the abandoned pumping station is testament to this failed effort to extract water at Ruislip Woods. It is an interesting ruin, especially once one becomes aware of what it represents. It is quite possible that the underground opening may lead to a tunnel under Poor’s Field – however I would absolutely not recommend trying to explore it. No-one knows what dangers may lie down there, not least the danger of collapse which I have already mentioned.

The way back

Our one-hour was up, and we started making our way back to the car park. But Miles Gillman’s storytelling didn’t abate. Inspired by the stories of bunkers and tunnels under the woods, we discussed about other local rumours and landmarks, such as the (now permanently closed) Pinner Chalk Mines as well as other known or suspected tunneling and mining efforts under our feet here in Hillingdon. It’ll suffice to say that some of us might have tunnels running under our gardens – about which we have no idea about ! It was a great discussion that certainly merits its own dedicated post and research.

As we went past the mansion on our way to the car park, Miles produced another interesting item : fragments of china recovered from the woods near the Battle of Britain House. These were probably part of a platter or dining plate, but otherwise difficult to tell how significant they were, or even whether these belonged to the crockery of Battle of Britain House. Miles remembers how in the days before recycling, it wasn’t uncommon for households to dispose of broken household items near their gardens. It is another interesting theory, and if it’s true, then there must be a potential treasure trove of fragments and other items close to where these were found! It’s yet another fascinating avenue of exploration that may yield more insights into the past of the ruined mansion at Ruislip Woods.

I am grateful to Mr Miles Gillman for being generous with his time, and for the interesting stories, artifacts and locations he shared.

For those interested in further detail, the story of the Ruislip Woods water well and pumping house has been described in great depth on the 1998 Ruislip, Northwood & Eascote Local Hisotry Society journal.

Battle of Britain House and The Secret War

Battle of Britain House and the Secret War

Secret agent training, the TOOL Missions, and Cold War mistrust : The latest revelations about the Battle of Britain House in Ruislip Woods.

Abandoned signs of past existence always fascinated me. First the excitement of discovery, then the mystery, and ultimately the revelation that comes with meticulous research. Suddenly, out of a tiny part, comes an astonishing whole, and the past reveals itself to us in glorious detail. When I first happened upon the ruins of Battle of Britain House in 2018, it was just a pile of rubble in the woods. But today, it feels like a site of significant (if overlooked) historic importance, with a story whose fascinating details can be traced from our local Ruislip Woods to the last days of the 3rd Reich in Berlin, from Canadian internment camps to South Virginian top secret facilities, from cosmopolitan interwar Osaka to the glamour of the Golden Age of Hollywood. Wealthy heiresses, globetrotting playboys, Danish farmers, health & wellness pioneers, secret agents – the Battle of Britain House has truly seen it all.

Among those intertwining stories, perhaps the most fascinating narrative is the one about the role of Ruislip’s (then called) Franklin Mansion during the War. Requisitioned by the Ministry of Works at the outbreak of World War 2, the mansion would become a training centre where the tactical aspect of the new collaboration between the British Secret Intelligence Service and the U.S. Office of Strategic Services (later CIA) would take place. Many aspects of this intelligence relationship still remain a mystery nearly 80 years on. The declassification of top secret files under Freedom of Information legislation is a gradual process. But each time a file, a photo or a record comes to light, a new aspect is revealed, and previously unheard stories emerge from the Fog of Time.

One of the earliest revelations of Ruilsip being used for the training of OSS agents came in Joseph E. Persico’s 1971 Piercing the Reich. It was one of the first books to describe the formative days of the OSS and the giant steps it took with the help of the SIS here, in London. Persico extracted rigorous detail from the available data and first person accounts, even revealing the daily lives and practices of the agents training for those seemingly impossible missions.

Battle of Britain House Ruislip Woods
London’s Area F (perhaps for Franklin) has since been identified by some authors to be the mansion known as the Battle of Britain House

As more and more records are revealed, researchers are enabled to access and evaluate the records , furthering our knowledge about what took place at the mansion in Ruislip Woods during the war. One of the most important breakthroughs happened in recent years with the publication of the memoir of Joseph Gould, an OSS officer who arrived to London shortly after the invasion of Normandy in June 1944. His orders were to recruit and train agents for top secret missions behind enemy lines, a need that became even more pressing after the massive German counterattack called the Battle of The Bulge in December 1944, when the Allies realised they were heading into Germany with little or no intelligence to support their operations. What was the actual strength of the Nazi Army, after all? What was the state of their industry? How was the German people’s morale and their will to carry on? Were rumours of a National Redoubt at the Bavarian mountains true, and did Hitler have more Wonder Weapons up his sleeve?

With the entire Allied effort at stake, Joseph Gould was sent incognito to London, tasked with locating and recruiting … Germans. Yes, London during the war had become a hotbed for German dissidents who had escaped Nazi Germany in the late 30s. Artists, homosexuals, trade unionists – many of those who didn’t fit Hitler’s terrible vision and had managed to escape via the so called Czechoslovak Corridor found refuge here, organising in societies such as London’s Free Germans. They were an assortment of secretive groups that met, discussed, and planned for Germany’s day after. It was among German Socialist workers that Gould found his cadre of recruits : ordinary, working class people with no prior military training. The daring plan devised by the OSS was for those men to parachute into Germany using false identities, mingle with the population, gather intelligence using the techniques learned at Franklin House, and report back via the cutting edge (for the time) technology provided to them.

Joseph Gould and TOOL agents in Rusilip, UK
Joseph Gould (Left) with TOOL mission trainees at Franklin House, Ruislip

The TOOL missions were codenamed after, well, tools : There was BUZZSAW, HAMMER, JIGSAW and so on. The Free Germans were to be paradropped into their hometowns in places like the Ruhr Valley, Leipzig, or Berlin, and report back with local intelligence. Many of them never made it through, neither the air crews that transported them. Some others were captured by the Soviets, their fate remaining unknown until after the Cold War ended in 1991. But some of them were successful, returning to a blacked-out, besieged Berlin like revenants one night in March 1945 after a decade of absence – to the disbelief of their relatives.

Sadly, the TOOL missions men who readily risked their lives to help the Allied effort didn’t fare very well after the end of the war. Being staunch Communists, they became unwelcome in Great Britain and other allied states as Cold War paranoia intensified. Most of them found their way to East Germany, where they were also treated with mistrust, having previously associated themselves with the OSS and SIS. Their effort and sacrifice remains largely unrecognised to this day. We are very lucky to know their story, including evidence of their presence in Rusilip, by virtue of the memoir of Joseph Gould named An OSS Officer’s Own WW II Story: Of His Seven German Agents and Their Five Labor Desk Missions into Warring Germany which was recently published by his son.

Gould’s memoir is a fantastic primary source, but there’s further testimony to the story of the Free Germans and their activity in the UK. Not least their extensive, and now declassified intelligence files, pieced together by reports from the Metropolitan Police and Secret Service who tracked their activities (along with those of all foreign nationals originating from enemy countries). Much of my expansive archive of the Battle of Britain House can be accessed and downloaded in the Members Area which is expanded & updated frequently.

Where’s Fischer? A declassified 1950 Home Office memo in reference to the whereabouts of Werner Fischer, one of the TOOL agents that paradropped into Germany. The Special Branch confirms they’ve lost track of him, and he’s presumed to be in the USA . The truth about Fischer’s whereabouts was very different, and was only revealed after the end of the Cold War in 1991.

It is said that the use of the mansion for military training may have have continued into the Cold War. There are claims (..which I cannot confirm or deny..) that secret allied technology training took place there around the early 60s. Maybe another story to write about after its declassified ! Until that time comes, I welcome you to join me for a deep dive into the astonishing history of the Battle of Britain House in Ruislip Woods by joining me on one of my regular walks, available to book on this page and/or join the Facebook Group dedicated to the history of the mansion.

Battle of Britain House, Ruislip

The Battle of Britain House : Exploring the ruins of a secret agent training facility

Discovering the remains of a mansion that served as a top secret training facility for OSS Operatives during World War 2.

This article originally appeared on www.explorabilia.co.uk in January 2019

We often aspire to travel to the most faraway places to satisfy our wanderlust. But trust me when I say this : some of the most astonishing, and frequently overlooked places to discover, are right at your doorstep.

EPW059065
The Battle of Britain House in 1938

Well, my doorstep is currently at Ruislip, Middlesex. And my very neglected gem close by was the mysterious Battle of Britain House, a local wartime legend. Elder neighbours sometimes referred to it while reminiscing of the past. They talked about a beautiful old mansion nearby, where people used to attend residential courses, such as beekeeping, music, or art.

Mr Stanyon(R) & guests
Mr Stanyon (r) with guests, date unknown. (From the archive of Mr Sid Owen)

On further investigation, I found some local publications and memoirs referring to it as a local college operating after 1948. Records show that it was managed by Victor and Gwendolen Stanyon, a local artistic couple who organised the various art courses offered by the college. For a time, the Ruislip and District Natural History Society was also headquartered at the mansion.

Mrs Stanyon(R) & staff
Mrs Stanyon (r) with staff, date unknown. (From the archive of Mr Sid Owen)

On a dry summer day in August 1984, a sudden blaze devoured the mansion, rendering it beyond repair. But still, people talked of a stately home with grand spaces, lavish furnishings, a well stocked library, and decorations commemorating the Battle of Britain, including a memorial plaque and the blazons of RAF squadrons adorning the walls. Apparently, the house had been purchased on the initiative of a local appeal, shortly after the war. They wished, and succeeded to opening it as a youth and learning centre, commemorating the R.A.F. pilots who fought in the Battle of Britain. But such was the scale of devastation on that fateful August day, that what remained of the once grand mansion had to be razed to the ground, never to be restored to its former glory again. 

Rear_vista
The rear of the Battle of Britain House (south side), date unknown. (From the archive of Mr Sid Owen)

But for me, the most intriguing part of the Battle of Britain’s House legend was its colourful ownership history, as well as it’s alleged wartime usage. I have found out that certain owners had been compelled to relocate from the mansion under difficult circumstances, and this happened twice ! And what’s more interesting, the wartime Ministry of Works seems to have requisitioned the building at the outbreak of World War 2, and later permitted its use as a secret training facility for US personnel based in England. Operatives from the Office of Strategic Services, the precursor to modern CIA, were apparently based there during the war, preparing for secret missions into occupied France !

Stories of the mansion’s past owners

The story of the site begins circa 1905, when Josef Conn – a German immigrant – and his wife Emily, obtained a 99 year lease for the Duck’s Hill Plantation in Ruislip. This included permission to improve the existing buildings into their house, which was named Horsens upon completion. However, the finished structure was apparently much criticized by locals, and only a few years later, just as the First World War broke out, Conn was accused to be a sympathizer on the basis of his German origin, and was subsequently interned for a period of time. Upon his release, which appears to have happened around 1916 – before the war ended – the Conns moved away from the area, leaving Horsens forever.

v5coci
Happy times (© Unknown)

During the 20s, the house became the property of  Meyer Franklin Kline, a well travelled American. A colourful and interesting character, Kline made his fortune as a travel journalist who spent most of his life creating, compiling and editing the Official Shipper’s Guide, a periodical journal sponsored by the Osaka Merchantile Shipping Company. Due to his business and personal connection with Japan, he renamed Horsens to Kokyo, the name of the Japanese Imperial Palace in Tokyo. He is then known to have re-decorated the house in accordance  – Kline’s Kokyo was furnished with luxurious pieces from a luxury ocean liner’s state room, perhaps a consequence of his shipping industry connections. He is also known to have improved the mansion’s grounds significantly during the same period, including the two oriental lions once adorning the pillars of the rear garden steps.

Kline A
Meyer Franklin Kline holding a copy of the Official Shipper’s Guide, 1935 (© Los Angeles Times Photographs Collection)

The Official Shipper’s Guide became a definitive guide book for travellers in the 30s : original, leather bound copies of it can still be obtained through reputable antique book merchants. It looks great, a book I’d love to own for my library one day. But beyond his love for travel and writing, Kline was also known to have loved women. Perhaps a bit too much… he married no less than 4 times, and as rumours go, when his last wife caught him with the housekeeper, reportedly she proceeded to burn the entirety of the photos and films Kline had accumulated during his travels ! This is a terrifying story.. and a very dear price to pay for infidelity.

EPW059066(1)
Franklin House in 1938

Kline eventually renamed Kokyo to Franklin House at some point after 1933. Franklin was his middle name, but he is said to have also named it so in honour of Franklin Delano Roosevelt, the 32nd president of the United States. During the same period, he appears to have leased the home to an unknown German national, shortly before the outbreak of the 2nd World War.  But the new leaseholder was forced to abandon the lease, as stipulated by wartime regulations in force at that time. He was, so to speak, the second German to be driven out of the property as a consequence of Britain and Germany being at war ! By some other accounts, there was “a woman of German origin” who lived in the house at the time, a “Mrs Hertog”. She was said to have been related to the Van Der Bergh family of margarine magnates from the Netherlands. 

Circa 1962 – Photo Courtesy of Mr Sid Owen

My research shows that she could have been Rica Hartog, the daughter of Hartog Hartog and Maria Anna Van Den Bergh. The Hartogs and Van Den Berghs were among the most important Dutch industrialists of the late 19th – early 20th century – indeed they were the kings of margarine ! The two families, among other important names in the Dutch margarine trade began as competitors, but didn’t hesitate to become partners when things got tougher during the 1920s. To remain afloat and continue enjoying a strong market position, they gradually entered agreements and formed pacts, pooling resources, brands and distribution networks over a period of years. This network of Dutch alliances, interests and dependencies eventually branched out across the Channel to involve British companies, and ultimately leading to the formation of Unilever in 1937, which remains a widely recognized international brand to this day. So with their businesses intertwining over several decades and spreading towards the UK, it’s no surprise members of their families ending up tying the knot too at some point, and perhaps finding themselves living in this wonderful mansion in Ruislip. So Mrs Rica Hartog is my best guess : she fits the event timeline, and had ancestry from both families. The only problem that remains was that both the Hartogs and the Van Den Berghs were Dutch, and indeed Jewish families. Rica Hartog was born in Brabant, much as the rest of her siblings, so it’s rather unlikely that she would be evicted for her origin, or even accused of sympathising. The truth is that I can’t know for certain, and more research would be required to establish the story of the mansion’s last tenant.

BoB House 5
Leaflet map showing the location of the Battle of Britain House

What is absolutely certain however, is that the outbreak of WW2 finds the mansion in the hands of the Ministry of Works, and soon, through them, it will be leased to its new foreign residents, the fearless men and women from the Office of Strategic Services.

The OSS in Britain

The US Intelligence apparatus was severely lacking at the outbreak of World War 2. Indeed the majority of information they collected at the time came in via their British counterparts : the Secret Intelligence Service (known as MI6) and their Special Operations Executive (SOE) branch, the so called “Ministry of Ungentlemanly Warfare”, a nickname alluding to the covert nature of its activities. The Brits were well ahead in the spy game at the time. They were active since summer 1940, performing intelligence and counter-intelligence activities, and conducting actual operations inside Nazi occupied Europe as early as 1941.

OSS-Training
OSS wireless antenna installation demonstration (© Unknown)

By autumn 1941, the fledgling OSS had established a permanent mission in London, at a building in 70 Grosvenor Street, Mayfair. The purpose of this overseas presence was the sharing of information and expertise, as well as agent training and exercises for field operatives. Americans with European backgrounds and a cool head  were preferred, and after training in various locations in the USA, Britain and elsewhere, were sent into the field, for missions in countries where their accents would help them blend in successfully.

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OSS operatives poring through gathered intelligence in London (© Unknown)

The Franklin House was one of those secret locations. OSS agents would train in hand-to-hand combat, explosives, communications, as well as the latest spy gadgets : Lightweight sub-machine guns, silenced pistols, compasses disguised as buttons, playing cards doubling as maps, and even cannabis extract-laced cigarettes to induce incessant chatting. Because remember – Loose Lips Sink Ships ! Beyond the seriousness of their mission and the real dangers involved, the young men and women of the OSS must have enjoyed the adventurous character of their training thoroughly.

Office-of-Strategic-Services-Weapons-Training
OSS firearms training (© Unknown)

This joint allied intelligence and special branch effort culminated in Operation Jedburg : Small teams consisting of 3 agents each paradropped behind enemy lines on the 5th of June 1944, the night before the Allied landings in Normandy. These were no ordinary grunts : They were by now highly trained agents from the OSS and SOE, with elements from the Free French, Dutch and Belgian armed forces. They were tasked with infiltrating deep inside occupied territory, conducting sabotage and guerilla operations and directing and organizing the Resistance ahead of the main Allied advance. I tend to think that some of those clandestine men and women who took part in Operation Jedburgh, whose names and identities were declassified only recently, might have trained and prepared at the Battle of Britain House, ahead of their paradrop.

Office-of-Strategic-Services-OSS-1280x1018
Jedburghs in front of B-24 just before night at Area T, Harrington Airdrome, England (© The National Archives and Records Administration)
Exploring the Battle of Britain House today

There’s not much left from the Battle of Britain House today. After the devastating fire in August 1984, the mansion was deemed irreparable, and its charred walls were razed to the ground. None of the lavish furnishings, books and RAF memorabilia survived the blaze, and council lorries soon moved in and removed any of the reusable materials. After a number of failed attempts to invite re-development, the council decided to abandon the project in 1993, and agreed to allow the space to be reclaimed by nature, thus returning it to its original state. Electricity pylon

Visiting the site today is a reasonably easy and fun challenge. Trying to locate the remains of the stately home through dense woodland, using contemporary photos and maps offers a pleasant pursuit for the budding archaeologist. I have discovered the more modern vehicle access gate and driveway, including a small pumping house and a road sign from the 80s. Further, one can see the remains of railings, electricity pylons and drains. Eventually, one reaches an open plateau, in what once was the beautiful gardens in front of the house. There, one can still see the main steps leading up to the mansion, which is perhaps the most significant relic on site. Turning east, one can find the remains of two outhouses, perhaps one was a storage shed and the other a greenhouse, judging from the amount of broken glass still there. There’s not much present testimony to the house’s wartime usage, although metal detector enthusiasts are known to have unearthed a number of interesting items, including a fake firearm used for hand-to-hand combat training. Here’s a short video of the site when I visited in January 2019 :

I have visited the location a number of times, and it is unfortunate to see less and less artefacts.  There was much more to see in older photos, but it appears that irresponsible people have been removing any amount of scrap metal they could get their hands on. There was much more to see as evidenced in photos from about a decade ago, but unfortunately the non-protected status of the site means that it will continue to suffer from vandalism, until one day the forest will swallow it entirely,along with any sign of its presence. The legend of the Battle of Britain House, however, will remain – and I hope I have somewhat helped to preserve it for future generations.

All colour photos and videos in this article © explorabilia except where stated otherwise.

Except where expressly indicated, all non-attributed photos are public domain, to the best of my knowledge. If you own the rights, or have further information on any of the material in this article, please contact me – I will be delighted to attribute provenance or ownership, and relate your story.

References :

  • Genealogieonline for Rica Hartog’s family tree
  • The formation of Unilever – Info Guide No.4, Unilever Archives and Records Management
  • From Horsens to Ruislip College : The story of Battle of Britain House – Ruislip, Northwood and Eastcote Local History Society Journal, April 1985
  • http://www.wikipedia.com (various articles)
  • The Home Front : Ruislip, Northwood and Eastcote in Wartime – Ruislip, Northwood and Eastcote Local History Society, 2007