The Market Drayton Pillbox

Plonked right next to the canal in Market Drayton is this war-era pillbox, dating back to 1940. 

For those who don't know, pillboxes are defensive structures. Back in the early days of the second world war, the fear of a German invasion of the UK was very real, and in addition to coastal defences, we also had numerous fallback points along the UK's pre-existing barriers like rivers, canals, and railway embankments. If the Nazis did invade even a small chunk of our island, we could fall back to another line of defence and make sure they didn't take the whole damn thing, or at the very least, slow down the invasion.

In this case, this would have been used to stop the Nazis advancing over the canal.

Imagine preparing to make your last stand against the Nazis in Market Drayton. Every time you heard a ruckus outside, you'd have to check if it's actually the Nazis or just the crackheads fighting at the bus station. You wouldn't know if you'd be shouting "Germans" or "Mum, Dad, put down those bricks." 

Of course, in hindsight we know that the pillbox was never needed. The Nazi invasion of Britain never happened, and every pillbox in the UK was destined to be nothing more than an ornament. It's a testament to our preparation, and resilience, and the horrific scenarios we were ready to face.

According to the Shropshire Star (take this with a grain bucket of salt) this pillbox is the last of its kind, its position on top of a concrete plinth being unique to the country. That's pretty cool if it's true. 

But in that case, what's truly weird about the Market Drayton pillbox is that despite being very prominent in the town and allegedly unique, it almost never comes up when people discuss Shropshire pillboxes. Most people talk about the ones at Cressage. In fact when I post this in the local Shropshire Facebook groups, I bet someone will comment underneath telling me about the Cressage ones. I am willing to put money on this. 

Slipping inside is pretty easy. The door's just incredibly low and a bit hard on the knees. 

It's a fairly standard layout. It's hexagonal with "windows" in each wall. If the Germans had invaded, people would be able to shoot from these holes while being relatively safe from returning fire.

Of course, being rather central in an urban area, the pillbox has become the towns bin. Its historical value is tarnished by a carpet of litter and the stench of piss. I had a colleague at my last workplace who told me several of her friends had fucked in here as teenagers, and I don't understand why they couldn't do it somewhere a bit more sanitary. I think I've caught syphilis just from looking at it. 

According to news reports, in 2020 the police did come here to remove a homeless person who had moved in. I don't know about you, but I would be a bit miffed if I was getting robbed or murdered and the police couldn't come because they were too busy arresting someone for trying to take a nap. Who is he really bothering here? Heaven forbid a human being has shelter.

 

Anyway, that's it for the Market Drayton pillbox, and for Market Drayton itself for the foreseeable future. But never say never! Not many people are aware of this but this blog has a two-year backlog. I was here two years ago, and last weekends trip to the dentist won't appear on my travel blog until 2028, assuming we survive 2026. But basically all I really know is that I haven't done any urbex in Market Drayton since this pillbox. But I might go there tomorrow. Who knows?

In the meantime, if you want to stay updated with my blog, then you can come keep me company on a website full of miserable people, Facebook. I'm also on Instagram too, for some reason. My personal favourite social media platforms are Bluesky, Cara and Vero, all excellent substitutes for Twitter and Instagram. They lack the large userbase, but the algorithm isn't evil, the users aren't miserable and you actually see who you choose to follow. That's all I want from social media. 

Thanks for reading!