Guest Post: I Just Know There’s Something in that Field – Part 1

Fragments Found whilst Detecting An account of Julian Evan-Hart’s determination to prove the existence of a Roman burial site.

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Minelab Pro-Swing 45 Harness Competition

Minelab Pro-Swing 45 Harness Competition

Joan Allen are offering you the chance to win a Minelab Pro-Swing 45 Harness worth £110! To be in with a chance to win, all you need to do is like the status on Facebook that is pinned to the top of our wall and you are automatically entered into the competition – that’s it. Don’t forget to share it with your friends to make sure they have a chance to win too. Good luck! Read more of this post

August’s Best Finds…

Again we have decided to review the previous months best finds. There are a few excellent and rare items here – and one first!

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Guest Post: Phil Chapman’s Introduction to Metal Detecting

As this is my first blog I thought I would start off with a short introduction to the hobby of metal detecting, and some general tips aimed at potential new metal detectorists. Read more of this post

Guest Post: The March of Time – Part II – Julian Evan-Hart

Dollar Bill

As I was recounting in Part 1 of these two blogs I have been into aviation archeology since I was a rather long haired and spotty youth in the late 1970s. I’m pleased to say I now have no spots, but now have no hair either…

As part of my adventures in aviation archeology I have had encounters with a number of family members of those involved in the aviation incidents I have been researching. For example, recently I was honoured to meet some of the relatives of 2nd Lt Robert Taylor who was the Navigator on board the plane Ding Dong Daddy, which was one of the B17s involved in the collision over Weston Park I mentioned in Part 1. I took Lt Taylor’s relatives back to the very wood that I was adventuring through back in 1979 and where the plane crashed. Read more of this post

Guest Post: The March of Time – Part I – Julian Evan-Hart

Some thirty-four years ago a rather spotty youth with lots of hair styled in a typical 1970s centre parting (me) crawled through the lush green grass on the edge of a small wood. There was on that far off day an air of excitement that was being generated by two important factors. The first was that the wood was in the prime pheasant rearing area of an estate fiercely patrolled by ‘Ron the Head Gamekeeper’ – I did not have permission to be there and if I was caught then all hell would break loose. The second factor was that that for some years previously I had heard the story of how a bomber had crashed into the wood during the Second World War. In fact, just a year before, as a beater during a pheasant shoot, I had heard some of the older men recounting the incident and, through the soaking brown clumps of mist drenched dead brambles, I had even seen what some of them had said was a bomb hole. Read more of this post