Photographing History: A Second World War Pillbox

As I stood in the middle of the post-harvested field, with the low winter sun starting to cast long shadows over the stark landscape, I couldn’t help but feel the weight of history pressing down on me. The pillbox, a silent, stoic relic of the Second World War, stood defiantly against time and change. Its concrete walls, weathered and worn, bore testimony to an era of uncertainty and fear. My camera felt almost intrusive, a modern tool in the face of this enduring piece of history. I trod carefully across the uneven ground, mindful not to disturb this connection to the past.

As I framed my shots, I tried to imagine the men of the Home Guard stationed here between 1940 and 1944. They were likely local farmers, shopkeepers, maybe a postie; ordinary people thrust into extraordinary circumstances. Did they feel pride in defending their homeland, or were they gripped by the anxiety of what might come over the horizon? The pillbox, with its narrow gun slits and cramped interior, was both a sanctuary and a trap. Standing inside, the cold concrete would have sapped their warmth as they scanned the fields for any sign of invasion. Every rustle of the wind through the hedges or the distant sound of an aircraft must have set their hearts racing.

I thought about the effort it took to build this pillbox. The mix of materials – the rough concrete, the wooden rafters supporting the roof-spoke of a time when resources were scarce, and ingenuity had to compensate. The ricochet wall inside caught my attention through the lens. It was a grim reminder of the dangers these men faced, even within these fortified walls. I wondered if they had scrawled their names or messages on these walls, little acts of defiance against the war’s uncertainty.

As I captured different angles, the light shifted, creating shadows that danced across the pillbox’s surface. I imagined the Home Guard watching the same changing light, their days punctuated by boredom and brief moments of intense vigilance. I felt a deep respect for their quiet courage.

The pillbox was more than a subject to photograph; it was a portal to another time. As I packed up my camera, I felt grateful for the peace of the field around me, knowing that the men who once stood here had fought to secure it.

Field study is featured within Defencology, issue 2025/2

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Image Description

A Second World War pillbox near Carhampton, west of Minehead, remains remarkably well-preserved, offering a tangible reminder of Britain’s wartime defences.

Constructed of concrete in a hexagonal design, this pillbox originally sat nestled in the corner of a field. However, the removal of hedgerows in 1994 has left it standing exposed in the middle of the field, with its door facing northeast. Aerial imagery suggests the structure was strategically positioned to face north, with its entrance likely located on the south side.

The pillbox features an unusual, non-standard design. Inside, a concrete step, approximately 1 foot high, leads to a raised platform measuring 3 feet by 3 feet and standing 2 feet high. The entrance is notably low, at just 3 feet in height, a feature typical of such defensive structures. An internal ricochet wall further demonstrates its defensive purpose, designed to minimize the risk of direct fire reaching occupants. Interestingly, part of the roof appears to be metal, supported by wooden rafters, with wood cladding applied externally. Historical records indicate it was once camouflaged by a hedge, blending it into the rural landscape to obscure its presence from potential attackers.

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