A hike to the Mosquito plane crash site, Royl Field, Shetland
January can be a real shit of a month, and there’s no better or more polite way to say it. We can’t tie it up in a silver bow like December, and it has about 3 million more days than February; it’s just a slog. Last winter was a slog; every day felt like a challenge. The darkness refused to let up, and every storm felt more violent and soul-sucking than the last one. It was hard to get out and muster any energy, and I felt in a real funk. Thankfully, this year has dawned in a brighter cloak, and January 2025 has been a month of fresh air, walks and optimism, and I’ve actually felt fabulous! I wanted to share some of that magic with you in this blog and a hike I’m sure you’d love.
Last Sunday, the day dawned calm and clear. With a heady 6℃ on the mercury, we packed a picnic and headed into the hills to visit a Second World War plane crash site deep in Shetland’s South Mainland.
Walk details:
Distance: 6 miles (10km)
Time: 3 hours (or longer if you want to have a longer picnic)
Rating: Challenging
Terrain: Open moorland with many boggy areas and pretty steep inclines. Wear proper hiking boots.
Start point: On the south side of Sandwick, just off the A970, there’s an old road where you can park, and a route map on the gate into the hill marks out the hiking route (HU 41188 25424).
The South Mainland is often one of the first places visitors see in Shetland, as the main airport is at the southernmost tip of the Mainland. The South Mainland is a 25-mile (40km) long, narrow peninsula that protrudes south of the Central Mainland and has been likened to the blade of a sword. It’s dominated by the rugged Clift Hills, which run down the South Mainland like a spine, separating east from west. This ‘spine’ was the area we would walk.
The Clift Hills are a series of low-lying hills (200-300 metres) that rise from Clift Sound. Royl Field (293m) is the largest of these hills and the second largest in Mainland Shetland (and the third largest in Shetland). During the Second World War, a de Havilland Mosquito Mk VII “DZ642” of the 627 Squadron, Royal Air Force, crashed on Royl Field on 22nd November 1944.
The Clift Hills dominate every area of the South Mainland. From Burra to the west, they rise steeply from the sea below, creating a ‘wall’ between east and west. In summer, low clouds and fog often threaten to spill over the hills from the east. When the South Mainland lies shrouded in a blanket of mist, the sun usually shines to the west, the hills providing a barrier against the encroaching sea fog.
The Clift Hills aren’t an area that’s advisable to walk without an OS Map as the hills are vast, with numerous summits and valleys. The route to the crash site is well-marked with waymarkers (however, several of them have fallen due to peat slips on the hill), so a map is advisable. It’s also important to check the weather forecast to ensure that there’s no risk of fog – the first time I went into the hills here, we ended up enveloped in mist, which was a very disorientating experience. We finally returned to the cars, cold, wet, and under the gathering dark after taking a ‘wrong hill’ on the long return leg (this was in the days before mobile phone apps, and we hadn’t taken a paper map).
On this particular Sunday, we headed off from the cars, following the old peat road up the side of Hamari Field before beginning the ascent up Royl Field, keeping a higher route to avoid the deep bogs, burns and pools of water in the valley between the hills (it is still January after all). The terrain is through open moorland, with evidence of peat cutting still visible – but beware of deep holes and boggy bits – ‘boddamless’ bogs as they’re known locally.
The valley between Hamari Field and Royl Field is peaceful, with gentle gradients and views south towards Levenwick and Sumburgh Head. As we rose higher, Fitful Head, to the south, and the island of South Havera, to the west, came into view.
We spotted mountain hares, snow-white in their winter colours, bounding through the hills. Hares are common on higher ground throughout Shetland, and winter is the best time to see them as they change colour to blend in with their surroundings—white as snow in winter and brown in summer. Ironically, as we get less snow today, their white coats make them stand out more, particularly against the muted russet browns of winter.
If you want to enjoy Shetland’s wildlife, book a tour or a wildlife holiday with Shetland Nature. Established in 2006 by Shetlander Brydon Thomason and with the collaboration of renowned tour leaders and associates, Shetland Nature has built a reputation for providing an exceptional and authentic visitor experience.
Cresting the hill, the view (and incline) stopped me in my tracks. It was breathtaking. I paused with the chill wind meeting me smartly at the summit, whistling through my hat, and there I stood, drinking in each drop of our precious islands. It never fails to amaze me how different our world looks from a bird’s-eye-view and all the better when our feet are still planted on terra firma. As someone who dislikes flying, I always appreciate it more from the summit of a hill, with the wind blowing in my hair and stinging my cheeks.
From 293 metres above, South Havera’s profile appeared star-shaped, each compass tip white with breaking waves driven in off the Atlantic, heavy with swell from some faraway low-pressure system deep out at sea. In a brief interlude from the cloud, Foula loomed on the western horizon.
The now uninhabited island of South Havera supported a strong community until the early 20th century, and the island’s stone windmill’s remains were visible on top of the island’s 42-metre highest point. The windmill in Havera was the only corn-grinding windmill in Shetland, built as there was no stream here to operate a watermill. Eight families lived on the island until 1923, with the houses built in a tight-knit cluster on the ‘banks broo’ (the edge of the cliffs). Children were often tethered outside the houses to prevent them from falling from the cliffs!
Numerous other islands of Shetland’s west side were visible: East and West Burra, Oxna, Hildasay, Papa, Linga, Langa, and beyond that, the bulge of the West Mainland; Skeld and Reawick.
Making the final descent on the west side of Royl Field on 22nd November 1944, the plane’s wreckage and stone memorial came into view. The plane itself, a de Havilland Mosquito, was on an ill-fated U-boat raid to Trondheim, Norway, when it crashed. The aircraft was low on fuel and planned to land at Sumburgh. However, the visibility was poor, and the plane struck the hill and crashed on Royl Field.
Both the pilot, Flight Lieutenant John A. Reid (RAF 48900) and Navigator, Flying Officer Wesley D. Irwin (J16115), lost their lives in the crash. Both men were returned to their families for burial.
The aircraft was one of nine to depart with Squadron 627, who left their home station at Woodhall Spa in Lincolnshire and stopped to refuel at RAF Lossiemouth before continuing their mission to Trondheim. Arriving in Norway, their mission was hampered by a smoke screen surrounding the U-boat pens, and the aircraft, on return, reported they were low on fuel. They were offered landing instructions for Sumburgh airport and warned of high hills, but no more was heard from the plane, which was presumed to have been lost in the sea.
The loss was because the plane hadn’t been refuelled at RAF Lossiemouth as it was inadvertently missed during the refuelling, meaning they didn’t have enough for the return leg back to Peterhead, where they were due to fill up again before heading back to base. A local story tells how an older man living in Cunningsburgh heard the engine’s drone and reported that it was flying too low. He and others in the area were concerned about its fate, particularly as the night had such poor visibility. However, nobody ventured into the hills to check, and he was too old to go himself. It wasn’t until several weeks later that the wreckage was discovered when several men, including George Mann of Uphouse, Laurence Malcolmson of Culbinsgarth, Adam Adamson of Brind and Robbie Jarmson from Mail, were gathering sheep in the hill and happened upon the crash site and her two crewmen.
Today, when we visited to pay our respects, the wind was gathering strength from the southwest, and the low January sun offered little respite from the cold. And despite the views, it was hard not to imagine the terror of landing in such a remote spot so far from the nearest help. Much of the wreckage is still visible, scattered through the hill like confetti. Both the Rolls Royce engines remain at the crash site, along with one of the propeller hubs, blades still attached, and on a mound above the wreckage, a stone plaque commemorates the loss of life on that cold November night.
We did a similarly remote hike a few years ago to visit the Catalina crash site in Yell. The plane had abandoned a mission to detect the German battleship Tirpitz, which was thought to be in the North Sea area. Due to engine trouble, The aircraft crashed while trying to land at RAF Sullom Voe. Of the 10 crew, seven were killed when the plane crashed into the hillside at Arisdale. Incredibly, three survived, and one man, Flight Sergeant Dan Lockyer, raised the alarm after pulling one of his fellow crew to safety.
Another poignant memorial is found in the cliffs in the upper reaches of Fitful Head. It commemorates the crew of a Halifax Bomber that crashed when returning to Sumburgh, following a mission in the Second World War. Seven crewmen were lost.
So often, Shetland is viewed as remote and isolated, yet our islands sat in a key strategic position throughout both World Wars. The idea that Britain could be taken from the north was a very real and worrying prospect for politicians and those living within the islands—this was felt even more acutely after Norway’s fall in the spring of 1940.
Shetland became an important northern base during the Second World War, with around 20,000 servicemen heading to the islands to operate defences. Although these personnel were not all here at once, there was a significant military presence in the islands throughout the war, and Shetland was a busy military base throughout.
For those interested in wartime history, the military historian and volunteer Commonwealth War Graves Commission guide Jon Sandison has extensively researched Shetland during the wars. For enquiries, email jonsandison@hotmail.com.
I always feel a real sadness when I consider the sacrifice that these men made in the name of war, and (as I write) on a day that cease-fire is announced, it feels even more poignant.
We made our way back, following the same route that we had come. If it had been a summer’s day, I’d have walked out more along the western fringes of Royl Field, but with a setting sun and a nine-year-old party to attend, we headed back following the waymarked route.
Ways you can support my work…