Our registered address is on a fighter station, and the country park car park is a Spitfire pen
Airfield Way is not a developer’s flourish. The industrial estate we are registered at sits on RAF Hornchurch, and the land it stands on has been called Suttons since Henry II gave it away in the twelfth century.
Around 1158, Henry II gave a piece of land at Havering to a hospice a very long way away: the house of St Nicholas and St Bernard at Montjoux, in the Valais, in what is now Switzerland. By 1163 he had given them the church as well. The land was recorded as Suttons, in south Hornchurch, and the gift founded Hornchurch Priory beside the parish church. The town’s name is first written down in 1222, in Latin, as Monasterium Cornutum — the horned monastery.
Suttons stayed a farm for the next seven hundred and fifty years. Then, on 3 October 1915, the Royal Flying Corps put a landing ground on it to defend London from German airships. Two BE2c aircraft, a field, and a name taken straight off the farm gate: Sutton’s Farm.
The night the airship came down
Just under a year later, on 2 September 1916, Lieutenant William Leefe Robinson took off from that field into a raid of sixteen airships and shot one down, using a new mixture of Brock and Pomeroy incendiary ammunition. He was given the Victoria Cross and became, briefly, the most famous man in England.
The detail nearly everyone gets wrong is what he actually shot down. It was not a Zeppelin. It was Schütte-Lanz SL11, a rival design with a laminated wooden frame rather than an aluminium one — which is a pedantic distinction until you remember it is the reason the thing burned the way it did, visibly, for miles, in front of a city that had been raided from the air with impunity. Two more Sutton’s Farm pilots, Frederick Sowrey and Wulstan Tempest, took DSOs for destroying airships in the months that followed.
Eleven Group
The field closed at the end of 1919 and was handed back. Then the Air Ministry bought it again, built a proper station on it over four years, and reopened it in April 1928 as RAF Sutton’s Farm — renaming it RAF Hornchurch two months later. The first unit in was No. 111 Squadron, under a squadron leader called Keith Park, who was also the station’s first commanding officer. Twelve years later Park was running 11 Group, and Hornchurch was one of his sector airfields.
What that meant in 1940 was Spitfires, constantly, and being a target: the station was raided on no fewer than twenty occasions. Richard Hillary arrived on 27 August 1940 and was shot down on 3 September. On 27 June 1940 George VI stood on what is now Tangmere Crescent and pinned decorations on Allen, Tuck, Deere, Malan and Leathart.
And on 24 March 1943, an American volunteer flying with No. 64 Squadron, Flying Officer Raimund “Smudge” Sanders Draper, lost his engine just after take-off with Suttons School full of children in front of him. He stayed with the aircraft and put it into the playing field. The school was renamed Sanders Draper in 1973 and still carries his name.
What is actually left, and what is not
The station closed on 1 July 1962. Ford used it to store Cortinas. Then the gravel companies came, then the refuse, and from 1980 the whole thing was landscaped into Hornchurch Country Park. The hangars and technical site went in the 1960s and are a housing estate now, with the street names doing the remembering — Bouchier Walk, Kirton Close, Tempest Way, Robinson Close, Tuck Road, Bader Way, Malan Square. The Officers’ Mess is a doctors’ surgery in Astra Close, and it, the officers’ quarters at Astra Court and the warrant officers’ houses in Wood Lane are all inside the RAF Hornchurch Conservation Area.
Out in the park, more survives than you would expect: pillboxes, command bunkers, gun positions and the largest number of surviving Tett turrets anywhere in England — one-man concrete pits with a rotating top, sunk into the ground along the eastern edge. And the single best detail is one you can drive onto. Havering states it flatly on its own park page: “The main car park at Squadrons Approach was an aircraft dispersal bay used to protect Spitfires and their ground crews during the war.”
One thing is gone, and it is worth saying because the internet keeps it alive. There was a large concrete dome next to the Good Intent on Southend Road, a planetarium-like thing used to train air gunners. It was demolished. The pub is still there. The dome is not, and no amount of enthusiasm brings it back — so if that is what your group is coming for, come for the Tett turrets and the Heritage Centre instead.
The Heritage Centre that keeps all of this is at 119–121 Suttons Lane — the same Suttons that Henry II gave away in 1158, the same Suttons the landing ground was named after. It opened in 2021, it is run by a charity, and Monday to Friday it opens for group bookings only. Which is the whole argument of this page in one address: in Hornchurch, the interesting places are small, and the vehicle should be too.