Pastoral present belies airfield’s dark past Story by Jim Saunders
Winding down the window of the car, we shouted across to the farmer tending her field in the late afternoon sun.
“Which way to Alddreu Airfield?” we asked.
Straightening up a little and turning to look at us: “You’re in it!” came the reply. “And, to see the hangers, you have to keep following this road straight!” she added while waving the tool in her hand a little.
We looked around slightly incredulously. Fields of crops stretched in every direction with only …