Residents of Imber and Tyneham were given a month to evacuate in 1943. They are still uninhabited ghost villages after eighty years, a testament to the communities that vanished.
I pulled over to the side of the road and dialled the Salisbury Plain Training Area military hotline, which informed me that the roads to the ghost village of Imber were open. I continued driving through the barriers that normally prevent access to the village. Blown-out tanks flanked the road, signs warned of the dangers of unexploded military debris, and “the loneliest village in England” felt a world away from the idyllic towns I’d passed on my way here.
“Little Imber on the down, seven miles from any town”. The village was known for its remote location deep in a windswept valley in the rugged grasslands of Salisbury Plain, as demonstrated by this old local rhyme. This fostered the sense of community that enabled the villagers to survive the harsh winters on the plain.
However, its remote location was ultimately responsible for its demise.
Salisbury Plain, located in rural southern England, is now the largest military training area in the United Kingdom. Prior to World War II, a 1,000-yard perimeter was observed when the army trained on the plain, but as more troops arrived and training intensified in preparation for D-Day, it was decided that the villagers’ safety could no longer be guaranteed. On November 1, 1943, the villagers were summoned to a meeting and told they had 47 days to leave.
Although some villagers accepted the news reluctantly as a necessary sacrifice for the war effort, others were heartbroken. The village blacksmith, Albie Nash, was discovered slumped over his anvil, crying, the day after the meeting. Nash became ill and died a few weeks later.
Imber was announced to be retained for military training after the war. The villagers, who claimed they had been assured they would be able to return, felt betrayed. A “Forever Imber” campaign garnered public attention, and the issue was raised in the House of Lords, but the decision to keep the training area was deemed final.
While Imber is still used for military training, the village is now deserted. It is uninhabited. There is no postcode and only 50 days of public access per year, according to Neil Skelton, the custodian of Imber’s 13th-century St Giles Church.
Apart from the restored church, only the shells of a few original buildings remain due to training and neglect damage. Despite this, Imber has no trouble attracting visitors: prior to Covid, approximately 16,000 people visited each year to learn more about Imber’s strange history and to explore one of the UK’s most remote villages.
On the first of four open days in early January 2023, I drove there, and convoys of mud-splattered cars lined the road as I approached the village. The St Giles Church was the focal point of activity, and the bells rang out as people tended graves in the churchyard and explored the mediaeval interior. The church still holds an annual Remembrance Day service, and those who lived in Imber are still eligible to be buried in the churchyard.
We chose Imber because it was such an unlikely place to operate a bus service to
Imber’s story continues to unfold in unexpected ways. Imberbus, the village’s most popular open day, came about by chance in a Bath pub. Every summer, thousands of passengers travel across Salisbury Plain between Warminster and Imber on classic Routemaster buses, raising significant funds for charity. “We chose Imber because it was such an unlikely place to operate a bus service to, and it represented a particular challenge as access is impossible for all but a few days a year,” said organiser Lord Hendy of Richmond Hill. “We’ve also made the village much more widely known.”
Despite the high demand, Imber’s availability is not guaranteed. Skelton explained that although the Ministry of Defence can grant up to 50 days of public access, they are only obligated to open one day each year, and, “about five years ago, as a result of trespass, the number of public access days was cut to three”. Skelton, on the other hand, explained that he was able to convince the Salisbury Plain Training Area Commandant, the officer in charge of the area, to increase this to the current allocation of 12-plus days. For the time being, however, these access days allow thousands of people to learn about Imber’s history and relatives of Imber residents to maintain a physical link with their ancestors.
Please treat the church and houses with care. We have given up our homes where many of us lived for generations to help win the war to keep men free. We shall return one day and thank you for treating the village kindly
Imber was not the only village to become a ghost town in autumn 1943. The car park at Tyneham, 50 miles to the south, on a stretch of coastline designated as England’s only natural World Heritage Site, was full. Drivers waited for cars to leave, hoping to see dog walkers approach parked cars, and I looked out my window at the village, which was bustling with activity despite having a population of zero.
An evacuation notice was issued to all households in Tyneham on November 16, 1943, with an excerpt reading: “The Army must have an area of land particularly suited to their special needs and in which they can use live shells.” Because of its small size and relative seclusion, it was chosen. Tyneham residents were given only 28 days to leave. Although the notice did not specify whether the evacuation was temporary or permanent, residents assumed they would return. One of the last people to leave pinned a note to the church’s door that read, “Please take care of the church and the houses. We gave up our homes, where many of us had lived for generations, in order to help win the war and keep men free. We will return one day to thank you for your kindness to the village.”
However, after World War II, the government announced their intention to keep Tyneham as part of the Lulworth Ranges, a military area used for live-firing practise by tanks and armoured vehicles. In the 1960s, a campaign was launched to allow residents to return to the village, and a debate was held in Parliament, but the government’s decision to keep the area for military training was deemed final. Although the village was not returned, public access to Tyneham was granted, as were footpaths across the firing area, which are open most weekends and during certain holiday periods.