Saturday 30th September ’23. DH, RW, PCL, PC, DL & Scrumpy
I had earmarked this date and location for some time once I heard that it was a Spitfire weekend at Compton Abbas airfield, all that was needed was to come up with a suitable route which might allow us the chance of catching one of these iconic World War 2 aircraft in flight during the walk. With an entry charge of £10 a car just to park at the airfield and then the possibility of it being crowded I opted for a route that would take us close to the airfield but avoid potential crowds trying to park nearby. After a mid week recce, a start point in the village from which the airfield gets its name was identified in a large enterance way to the village church and church rooms. And so just after 9.00, with he two cars parked up alongside the jubilee memorial and the modern post and phone box, we were ready to start a steady climb up to the top of the hill and the airfield. The jubilee memorial could at first glance look like a war memorial but it was erected for in 1887 for Queen Victoria’s Golden Jubilee and in 2012 the village added another inscription for the Queen’s Diamond Jubilee. On the stone beneath the memorial the cypher of King Charles III has already been added.
Ample warning about the ascent had been given in the weekly instructions so armed with sticks, water bottles and hats we set off on a small track alongside the ’new’ village church of St Mary, which has recently celebrated its 150th year.
Not wanting to offer an ‘Adrian standard’ of guided tour, I had done a small amount of research before the walk and started by explaining the fairly obvious origin of the Saxon village name, Compton means the village in the valley, or the coombe, and as it previously belonged to Shaftesbury Abbey, it has like many other villages in this area the additional name of Abbas.
The track opened up into a lane where we turned left towards the village centre and paused briefly to look at the thatched roof of a cottage with a fox chasing a pheasant along the ridgeline. A very large property on the left side gave us all a bit of house envy before we turned off the road again to follow a track by a clear stream. Properties down the track had utilised the water to create ponds at the bottom of gardens and the sound of trickling water was a lovely accompaniment to our walk. We continued along a sunken lane enjoying the soft going underfoot from the years of accumulated leaf mold before it exited into a large freshly sown field with the route up the hillside opening up in front of us. Alongside the new crop the neighbouring one was turning a bright shade of orange as the strong chemicals were slowly killing it off ready to be ploughed and resow.
We could see the gate onto the ridge ahead of us, but followed a diagonal previously walked track through the grass as we started the slow and steady climb. Occasional stoping to enjoy the view and catch our breaths the view back towards the church spire and surrounding properties of the village was very typical of a good North Dorset scene.
The pathway passed through a gateway and onto the National Trust land of Fonthill Down and as slowly gained height the view of the whole horseshoe valley around which we would be walking opened up in front of us. On the steep slope to our left the planets most numerous ecological engineers, the ant, had created many hilled piles of dirt which had grassed over and blended in to the slope and away from grazing animals. Slow and steady was certainly the order of the day as we progressed with regular stops to take in the ever increasing view across opening countryside heading west. It wasn’t too long before we could see the car park at the top of our climb and our route around the ridge and back down was clear to see. There were not too many fellow walkers out but one couple who did stop and speak turned out to be visitors from across the pond out for a morning stroll. We stopped and chatted for a few minutes and established that they were from the more barren state of Texas and having taken a taxi to the top car park were doing our route but in the opposite direction.
As we set off again, the sound of an approaching aircraft had us all hoping in would be a spitfire, but unfortunately the first one of the day was just a basic 2 seater pleasure aircraft. We finally made it to the car park and the summit of today walk after just 60 minutes, having covered one and a half miles and rewarded ourselves with lollies all round and the weekly selfie.
The car park was not too busy as we took a small path alongside the road leading towards Shaftesbury, before we turned left through another gate and onto a track leading towards Melbury Beacon. A hundred metres along the track and with the whole of the airfield, buildings and aircraft visible, Pete trained his binos on or raft near the sheds which he quickly pronounced to be a two seater spitfire. Just visible with the naked eye we soon heard the distinctive sound of a Merlin engine fire into life and started to see the aircraft move. Knowing that the taxi to the top of the field could easily take ten minutes I pushed the group along knowing that when it did take off there was a very good chance it would pass right overhead if we were further along the ridge.
Continuing along again, a smaller flying object caught my eye as it flew just ahead of us hopping from post to post. With a bright white backside in flight, it was not a bird I could identify but thankfully for us it was very keen to pose on the post only a few feet in front of us for us all to throw our guesses into the hat. Thankfully our ornithological correspondent soon had it and it’s mate a few posts ahead, identified as a Wheatear. The wheatear is a small mainly ground-dwelling bird which often hops or runs on the ground. The male is blue-grey, with black wings and white below with an orange flush to the breast. It has a black cheek. In flight it shows a white rump and a black 'T' shape on its tail. It is a summer visitor and passage migrant. Birds breed mainly in western and northern Britain and western Ireland, although smaller numbers do breed in southern and eastern England. It winters in central Africa.
With our frequent stops time was starting to get away from us a bit, as I had phoned the cafe whilst walking along the ridge and reserved a table for 11.30, less than an hour away at this point.
We dropped down into the saddle before the beacon and climbed a stile to cut the corner off the decent back into the valley bottom. As we were making our way towards the pathway along the field edge back towards the village, a low pitched rumble started to grow from the ridge top, and as it increased the familiar shape of the spitfire emerged against the cloudy sky and almost in dogfight mode, out of the sun, in front of us. (Visible on the photo below abov
We stood and watched it circle and head off and continued our walk with a real buzz of excitement, yes even at our age! Coming towards alongside the hedgerow the American couple were also beaming from the sight of this wonderful aircraft and as we exchanged pleasantries again it was clear the gentleman was himself a regular flyer, although we could only guess at what level. We were also treated to the sight and sound of an old Harvard with its 600hp Pratt & Whitney engine at full throttle.
The North American Harvard trainer was built in greater numbers than most combat aircraft during World War Two, 17096 being produced. By the end of the War over 5000 had been supplied to British and Commonwealth Air Forces. As conflict became inevitable the Royal Air Force expansion programme demanded a massive increase in pilot training and to meet this need the Empire Air Training Scheme was established. The Royal Air Force soon turned to the United States to acquire the trainer aircraft needed to equip the Scheme. The Harvard was one of the first American aircraft ordered by the RAF when a contract for two-hundred was placed in June 1938. In total the British purchasing contracts bought over 1100. It saw service as a chase aircraft for test and experimental flights until the 1990s.
The ninety year old husband of one of our dear Sexey’s friend, ‘Hod’ Hoddinott himself learnt to fly in the Harvard before becoming a respected Fleet Air Arm pilot of the aircraft carrier based Buccaneer jet aircraft and Commanding Officer of a Royal Naval Air Squadron.
Passing through another gate we were back onto a metalled road and were greeted with the sight of the former village church of St Mary which closed its doors for the last time in 1867. The tower is the only thing remaining and it is no longer possible to go inside. A plaque by the gate informs visitors that is is now maintained by the Society for the Preservation of Ancient Buildings.
The final half mile back to the car was along the village road and was interspersed with more views of the spitfire as it carried out some shallow dives and climbs in and out of the clouds, as well as a bi-plane and other aircraft. Just before it joined the A350 we passed a former chapel and then stopped to admire the old village forge and motor garage adorned with many old enamelled signs and an old petrol pump in the yard. Our final path took us through a small wooded area away from the main road and out by an old building presumably built around the same time as the new church and used as the village school or church rooms.
Todays walk had taken us almost 2 hours and we only completed 3.3 miles, although we did climb over 150 metres! To round off the day we headed into Shaftesbury and the Salt Cellar cafe at the top of the famous Gold Hill. Being carnival day the town was busy and the high street was closed as musicians and dancers entertained the public. Richard & Phil had arrived first and secured an outside table with views down the hill and beyond. The service was quick and apart from a complication of chipolatas being an extra option with breakfast, our food was delivered in good time. There was a cool breeze blowing up the hill but the hot cups of tea and the tasty breakfast along with the stunning location took our minds off it.
There were many tourists coming to pose for the obligatory photo and Phil even managed to do his best David Bailey for a family wanting a group photo. We took a few of our own and as Dereyk had purchased himself a loaf from the local bakery on the way to the cafe, he very kindly obliged in recreating the Hovis bread boy climb up the hill, although without his bike for support!
All in all another good day out, with plenty of varied banter as usual, especially having suffered no ill effects from the steep climb and having seen and heard the many aircraft flying overhead. Mission accomplished!
PS. Much of the information about Compton Abbas and the two churches were taken from an article I found online here.
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