Abandoned village where hundreds were told to leave — ‘your home’s gone’ | History | News

Once a settlement with dozens of farms, a pub, a cemetery and more than 200 residents whose ancestors had farmed the land for generations, Epynt fell silent in just a few months. The historical community vanished, leaving behind abandoned houses and missing animals. Most of the houses did not last long.

In September 1939, following the start of the Second World War, an Army officer arrived to investigate this remote part of Mid Wales. By Christmas, each farm (whose names the officer had difficulty pronouncing) received notices informing their bewildered residents to evacuate their ancestral homes by April 1940.

The Ministry of Defense reserved 30,000 acres of the region as a training area. The locals were informed that their sacrifices were crucial to the war effort and that they would be compensated for their inconvenience.

As the bombs began to fall, the War Office had an urgent need for additional land and facilities. For a fleeting moment in 1940, the predominantly Welsh-speaking community believed they had persuaded the Ministry of Defense to rethink their plans. But as Hitler’s Nazis swept across Europe, London rejected the distressed community’s appeals and instructed them to seek new homes elsewhere to support their families and feed their animals. Wales Online reports.

Unfortunately, the 54 farming families forced to relocate had limited local alternatives and many were forced to move away from the area. Many believed that this relocation would be temporary and that they would return when the conflict ended.

However, the Ministry of Defense continues to own the 30,000 acres of Mynydd Epynt, now known as the Sennybridge Training Area, which is still used by British soldiers for training and live fire.

Almost all of the original structures, including farmhouses, were destroyed; but the Drovers Arms Inn pub remains standing, along with the headstones in the cemetery. These are almost the only remnants of the families who inhabited this area, which 80 years ago was more of a community than a clearly defined village. Satellite images on Google Maps reveal a small network of roads in the area, but most are not accessible via Street View.

In 1940, families held out hope that they would eventually stay there or at least return. As recently as March of the same year, St. David’s Day celebrations were held in the chapel known as Capel y Babell. A man named Thomas Morgan was said to have made regular return journeys to light a fire in his hearth, protecting his stonework from the elements until his family’s expected return home. He continued this daily ritual until two soldiers greeted him with devastating news: His house had been destroyed. They informed him: “We blew up the farmhouse. You won’t need to come here anymore.”

Bethan Price, a descendant of one of Epynt’s families, explained that her great-grandmother left a key in the front door lock and never gave up hope of returning it. But others realized their departure was permanent. One woman even insisted that her front door be removed when she left the village. For countless residents, this marked the end of an era; Their familiar world was disappearing forever.

In June 1940 the school and chapel closed their gates, the Army began dismantling the fences, and heavy artillery bombardment began on July 1, 1940. According to NFU Cymru, Elwyn Davies, then 10, recalled his grandmother’s forced relocation and eventual settlement in Carmarthenshire: “It was a very bleak time. It was wartime and there weren’t many options locally. Just a week after they left they burned his house to the ground. They burned everything to the ground.”

Iowerth Paete, formerly curator at St Fagans National History Museum, was commissioned to document the event through his lens. He recalled witnessing horses dragging carts full of goods along the road leading out of the village and an old woman crying as she sat on a chair outside the house she had been forced to abandon.

Current MP Ben Lake, whose grandmother Beryl Lake was the last baby born at Epynt, told NFU Cymru: “The capture of Epynt 80 years ago is a significant but often overlooked chapter in the history of Wales. An entire community was displaced and families were forced to evacuate farms that had been farmed by their ancestors for generations.”

But despite the outrage at the time, voicing dissent was seen as damaging the war effort and the Allied fight against Hitler. As a result, the forced evacuation of Epynt never had the same historical significance as, for example, Capel Celyn in the Tryweryn Valley, which was deliberately submerged to provide drinking water to homes in Liverpool in 1965.

Indeed, eighty years later, Epynt’s legacy has diminished, as have the inscriptions carved by former residents into the weathered tombstones of the 19th-century chapel.

Visitors can explore Epynt Road via a variety of walking routes at varying distances, where “sheep roam freely on artillery ranges and red kites soar over troops on exercises” but “the sound of the wind is punctuated by exploding mortars”. Epynt Way visitor centre, housed in a traditional farmhouse, offers guidance to visitors: “Don’t worry if you see any military debris, you’re safe but please don’t buy anything. You may see soldiers training but you’re more likely to see red kites, rabbits and other wildlife.”