A couple of days ago, I wrote an article here at Mysterious Universe on the Second World War-era controversy surrounding Shingle Street. It’s a small village in Suffolk, England that has a high degree of notoriety attached to it. Stephanie Cross at Country File Magazine says of this strange affair: “In May 1940, when a German invasion was thought to be imminent, the civilian population of Shingle Street was evacuated and minefields laid on the beach. And it was then that the rumours began: that a small German invasion force had landed at Shingle Street, a battle had broken out as defenders beat the invaders back to the water, and that the Germans had been burned alive with oil and petrol pumped on to the surface of the sea using special pipelines. Rumours of German invasion were rife along the south and east coast in the war, but such was the pitch of speculation on this incident that it led to questions in the House of Commons and, in 1993, the early release of classified documents. These revealed the ‘invasion’ was just a rumour – although the bodies of four dead German airmen had washed up on the beach, after their plane crashed into the North Sea.”
There’s another reason why I make mention of Shingle Street today. Specifically, it’s the location of the village. You’ll soon see what I mean. Ether Wave Propaganda says: “The Committee for the Scientific Survey of Air Defence (CSSAD, a.k.a. the ‘Tizard Committee’) was instituted by the British Air Ministry in late 1934 to consider new technologies that the Royal Air Force might use to defend its territory against attack by bombers. The committee was initially comprised of its chair, scientist and longstanding government research administrator and Imperial College rector Sir Henry Tizard, the Air Ministry’s Director of Scientific Research Harry Wimperis, academic experimental physicist Patrick Blackett, Nobel Prize-winning physiologist A. V. Hill (who had been the head of a World War I research group responsible for improving anti-aircraft gunnery), and Wimperis’ assistant A. P. Rowe, who served as secretary.”
Moving on: Pan Macmillan provides the following words: “In 1936 Winston Churchill asked the physicist Sir Robert Watson-Watt to develop a ‘death beam’ or a ‘magic eye’ to counter the growing threat of German airborne aggression. Under the cloak of utmost secrecy, he and a small team of brilliant scientists moved into the manor. Stables and outbuildings were converted into workshops and the first receiver and transmitter towers were built. Just eighteen months later, RAF Bawdsey became the first fully operational radar station in the world.”
Now, there’s something called Cobra Mist, of which Wikimapia states: “Cobra Mist was the codename for an Anglo-American experimental over-the-horizon radar station at Orford Ness, Suffolk, England. It was known technically as AN/FPS-95, and sometimes referred to as System 441a, a reference to the project as a whole. The project was plagued by noise problems that could not be identified, and the project was shut down in 1973. The site and buildings are now occupied by a BBC broadcast transmitter.” Now, we come to an even more controversial story.
From the early 1970s to the early 1990s, more than a few employees of Marconi were found dead under dubious and disturbing ways. One of them was Jonathan Wash. At the time of his death, Wash was working for British Telecom – that had deep connections to Marconi. In 1985, Wash died after falling, or having been pushed, from a window in a hotel room in Ivory Coast, West Africa. It’s notable that Wash had suspicions leading up to his death that he was being spied on: watched and followed in a clandestine way. He shared his concerns with his family and friends, but it was all too late. Notably, the British Telecom facility that Wash worked at was a top secret research facility at Martlesham Heath, Suffolk. So, with all of the above stated, you may be wondering what the connection is between the Shingle Street controversy, the top secret Tizard Committee, the equally highly classified Cobra Mist project, and Marconi. Well, here’s the answer:
Geographically speaking, let me put all of the above into a shocking perspective for you: the distance from Martlesham Heath to Rendlesham Forest is only 11.3 miles. The journey from Shingle Street to the forest is, at its shortest, only 7.6 miles. A trip from those infamous woods to Bawdsey amounts to less than ten miles. How far might Orford Ness be from Rendlesham Forest? I’ll tell you: just 7.1 miles. In my book, The Rendlesham Forest UFO Conspiracy, I suggest that the famous series of events of December 1980 had nothing to do with aliens, but everything to do with secret military/government experiments involving holograms. As all of the above makes very clear, the whole area surrounding Rendlesham Forest has been steeped in ongoing secrecy since the 1930s. So, we’re talking about almost a century of classified activity. I suggest – given the close proximity to the forest and the extensive top secret programs that we know existed in the area – that the 1980 “UFO landing” was just yet another military experiment, and not a UFO event.