Imber; village on Salisbury Plain, unoccupied since 1943 when the villagers were dispossessed at short notice by MOD to provide a training ground for American troops to practice house-to-house fighting in preparation for D-Day (youngsters please Google). Albert the local blacksmith is said to have been seen sobbing over his anvil, and coincidentally was the first resident to die and be returned to his village for his funeral. Sad.
Typically, the promise of return after the war ('for the duration' was a phrase commonly used at the time) has not been kept by MOD in spite of several legal actions taken on the local's behalf since then. But looking at the state of the village now, no-one would want to.
Lovely day though, sunshine and just the right temperature. No official organisation (hence no-one asking you for a fiver to park on the verge) -- how refreshing. Lots of people there, all apparently having innocent good time (different from sad residents in 1943), many delivered there by ex-London red Routemaster buses, freed temporarily from their retirement, from Warminster. Even one open-topped. Made Brexit seem a good idea after all; that and the Olympics, but shut up; mustn't talk politics, sex or religion.
For ease of transport I took along the Fuji S3 which has been adapted for infra-red; it gives lovely pink files that can then be neutralised to B&W in Photoshop and ticked to taste. Try these:
All pictures © John Bigglestone
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