This is NOT a ruined cottage. - THE DRURIDGE BAY RUIN

I'm Peter Austin, that is not a ruined cottage, and this is interesting. In September 2020, this rather unassuming looking structure in Druridge Bay in Northumberland was given grade 2 listed status by the UK government's culture secretary on the advice of Historic England, which might seem a bit odd at first glance. I mean, seemingly this is nothing more than a single storey cottage that's all but fallen down. And also, given that it was listed several years ago now, why haven't efforts been made to rescue it from its apparent dereliction? Well for answers, we're gonna head inside. This is the secret identity of the Druridge Bay ruin. The first thing I should tell you is that this building is actually in near perfect condition. Seriously, it was actually designed to look exactly like this, and was placed in this precise spot for very good reason. You'll see that we're on a slight hill here, giving us a very good view of this fairly exposed bit of coastline. There are only some small dunes between here and the very flat beach below, no proper cliffs to speak of. A perfect place for someone to unexpectedly land a fleet of boats, perhaps? Well keep that in mind as you look at the very unusual windows on this so-called cottage, and its purpose might suddenly become clear. This is actually a World War II pillbox disguised as a ruined cottage. Not a cottage that was here and turned into a pillbox during the war and then fell down, but a pillbox built from the ground up to look like a ruin. But as we'll see when we go further in, its rustic farmhouse facade belies the very practical military interior. Most British pillboxes were erected in the summer of 1940 by the War Office Directorate of Fortifications and Works, typically following one of about a dozen designs. The concrete lozenge is what tends to spring to mind when we think of pillboxes like this one further up the coast that's slowly being reclaimed by the dunes, but as it turns out, some of the structures had to break the mould because of where they were built, and they weren't all ruined cottages either. Here's one disguised as a greengrocers shop in Kingston-on-Thames, and this is a supposed tourist information booth in London's Trafalgar Square. I'll show you some other brilliant examples in a moment. But what was it about this area that warranted a disguise? Well, not only would this flat sandy shore have been an ideal spot for the Germans to beach their landing craft had they chosen to invade in the summer of 1940, but the exposed surroundings would have made it a tricky spot for the Allies to defend. It was clear this area needed some kind of defensive structure, but it's no good just plunking down a whacking great lump of concrete in a spot like this. If the enemy were to commit to landing here, it was important that the defence forces could maintain the element of surprise. And hey, who'd expect any resistance from an old cottage that apparently didn't even have a roof? Of course, up close the invaders would likely have spotted the building's towels, but by then it would be far too late. Despite how it looks from afar, the pillbox actually has a flat concrete roof, reinforced walls, and gun embrasures in its windows. Each one of these is cleverly recessed from the outside to maintain the look of a cottage window at long distance, and there are concrete shelves underneath to act as elbow rests for the firing at the German landing parties. Indeed, as quaint as this building's exterior might seem, the war office really weren't messing about here. As well as erecting this structure, they placed other traditional pillboxes in less exposed parts of the bay, anti-tank blocks were positioned right across the beach, an anti-tank ditch was dug behind the dunes, and they even laid mines in the area as well. I better watch where I'm walking. Now it's true that a great many pillboxes had at least some level of camouflage, many were covered with earth or built into the existing landscape, others were painted, covered in foliage, or had camouflage netting hung across the walls, but it's these structural facades like this collapsible shack exterior that are really the most impressive. This pillbox at Downhill Strand in Northern Ireland was made to resemble dry stone walling, this example in Norfolk has been blended into the side of a house, this rather lovely one in the New Forest was made by reinforcing an old dairy store dating back to the early 1800s, and that is a machine gun post built into the ruins, genuine ruins this time, of a much, much older defensive structure, Pevensey Castle. This site was last occupied in the 1500s by Elizabethans defending against a potential invasion by the Spanish. Strange to think it was briefly under military control again 400 years later. Amongst the hundreds of anti-tank blocks that still lie here today, dozens of pillboxes once existed in this bay alone, and while most of them have been removed and others are being lost almost literally to the sands of time, our ruined cottage still stands proudly on Hemscott Hill. A wonderful example not only of a beautifully preserved World War II fortification, but of the ingenuity that underpinned the British war effort both abroad and at home. I've been Peter Austin, and that was interesting.