During my many weeks locked down at home here in Scotland I have been keeping fit walking in the countryside around the house. Our house looks on to the Ochil hills where I regularly walk enjoying the wild open spaces.
This month marks the 75th anniversary of D-Day which was the final military push that resulted in the end of the Second World War. After walking 40 minutes up the hill from my house there is a reminder of the war still surviving, although nature has made it more difficult to identify this relic which is now camouflaged in dense heather and grass.
This relic from the past played a critical part in the training and preparation for the last final push to end the war. It was here on this wind-swept moor one year before the planned assault that vital preparations took place. Prof Tony Pollard, Glasgow University’s professor of conflict history, said the training was “absolutely critical” in making “one of the most important military operations in history” a success.
Hitler ordered the construction of the Atlantic Wall in 1942 and close to a million French workers were drafted to build it. The Sheriffmuir replica was built based on intelligence stolen by a French painter and decorator from blueprints he found on a German soldier’s desk. He sailed over to Britain on a fishing boat with the secret plans hidden in a biscuit tin.
This replica of the Atlantic Wall remained something of a secret for 70 years, until a local museum heard of a local man who had been involved in the construction. He sent a letter to the museum seven years ago, confirming his involvement in the building of the wall.
The wall is just over 80 metres long and is four metres thick and if you look hard enough you can see where shells blasted holes right through the concrete. To accomplish this requires something called a double onion, a forklift-looking structure attached to the front of a tank. The tank goes against the wall, then reverses, with an electric cable still attached to the wall. Once far enough back, the men in the tank would detonate the charge and blow a hole big enough for the tank to pass through.
This secret military activity did not always go according to plan. There were three children who were taken from local farms by taxi to their school in the local town of Dunblane. On the 21st of May 1943, the driver of this taxi, John Penny was taking the children home on the single-track road that was close to the wall. Suddenly a live shell flew over the roof of the car and exploded in the ground close by at the side of the road.
John had been warned by a soldier that there might be shelling in that area but apparently, this was normal practice, and nothing had ever come so close before.
Although he and his charges were unharmed, he felt that it was necessary to warn the local police who in turn notified the school management committee who then took this up with the Perthshire Education Committee. After some negotiation, the military authorities agreed to suspend shelling between 9am and 9.30am and 12.30pm and 1pm. This made for a much less dangerous school run for John and the three children in his charge.