Published: 06 October 2026. The English Chronicle Desk. The English Chronicle Online
More than eight decades after the end of the Second World War, unexploded German bombs continue to pose a dangerous and unpredictable threat across Britain, forcing specialist military teams to confront weapons that have spent generations buried underground or hidden beneath the country’s waterways.
The scale of the continuing problem was starkly illustrated on 14 January 2026, when two unexploded wartime bombs were discovered in Devon on the same day. One was buried deep beneath a building site in Plymouth, while another was found sitting on the deck of a dredging vessel in Exmouth Marina.
For Britain’s bomb-disposal specialists, dealing with one historic bomb is a familiar task. Having two significant devices emerge almost simultaneously, in locations only around 50 miles apart and under the responsibility of the same police force, created an unusually demanding operation.
At Exmouth Marina, the discovery initially sounded almost like the fulfilment of an old local legend. Residents and people who had worked around the dock had spoken for years about the possibility that an unexploded German bomb remained somewhere beneath the harbour.
The marina had been dredged repeatedly since the Second World War, but no bomb had ever been recovered. The story had gradually become something of a local myth.
That changed on the afternoon of 14 January, when marina manager Steve Hockings-Thompson was contacted by the crew of a dredger. A large piece of metal had been lifted from the bottom and brought onto the vessel’s deck.
When Hockings-Thompson arrived, he recognised the distinctive shape almost immediately. It was a bomb, and a particularly large one.
The dredger was carrying approximately 20,000 litres of diesel fuel, adding another major risk to an already dangerous situation. A detonation could have caused catastrophic damage around the marina.
Police were called and quickly established a response before specialist military assistance was requested.
The call eventually reached the control centre of the 11 Explosive Ordnance Disposal and Search Regiment, known as 11EOD, based at Vauxhall Barracks in Oxfordshire. The specialist army unit is responsible for responding to a wide range of explosive threats, from modern devices associated with terrorism to unexploded munitions left behind by the Second World War.
At first, the information reaching the control centre appeared confusing. Maj Andrew Boyce, who was overseeing operations, had initially been told that the bomb was a 50kg device.
He soon discovered that the reported weight had changed dramatically.
The explanation was that the 50kg bomb was not the device in Exmouth. It was the second bomb, discovered earlier that morning in Plymouth.
At the Plymouth construction site, Luke Templeton, director of specialist unexploded ordnance contractor S.I UXO, had already been expecting the possibility of wartime bombs.
Historical research carried out before construction began had examined wartime documents, bombing records and Luftwaffe flight paths. The assessment suggested that two bombs could potentially be buried beneath the site.
Specialist equipment located one device more than four metres below ground. Once it was confirmed as a 50kg wartime bomb, the police were contacted.
The second discovery at Exmouth involved a much larger 250kg device.
For the bomb-disposal teams, the simultaneous discoveries were highly unusual. The British military has dealt with unexploded wartime munitions for decades, but the appearance of two substantial bombs in the same area on a single day created an exceptional operational challenge.
Ordinary perceptions of bomb disposal often focus on a specialist in a protective suit approaching an explosive device while attempting to disable it manually. That image is rooted partly in the experience of bomb disposal during the Troubles in Northern Ireland and military operations in Afghanistan.
In Britain today, however, much of the work involves something considerably older.
Second World War bombs account for the majority of incidents dealt with by military bomb-disposal teams in the UK. The Luftwaffe dropped more than 60,000 tonnes of bombs on Britain during the war, and military estimates suggest that roughly one in 10 failed to explode.
Some failed because of mechanical problems or manufacturing issues. Others landed at unusual angles or struck soft ground, reducing the force of impact and preventing their fuzes from operating as intended.
Britain also has its own legacy of unexploded ordnance, including weapons used during training exercises and surplus munitions that were deliberately buried after the war.
Today, historic explosives account for approximately 2,000 of the roughly 2,500 incidents handled by military bomb-disposal teams in an average year.
The discoveries can occur almost anywhere. Metal detectorists and magnet fishers sometimes uncover wartime ammunition in fields, rivers and canals. Calls can increase during public holidays, when more people are outside exploring or carrying out work around older properties.
Construction is another increasingly important source of discoveries. As towns expand, new buildings are constructed and developers dig deeper into the ground, increasing the likelihood of encountering buried munitions.
The consequences of an accidental detonation can be devastating.
A 250kg bomb exploding in a densely populated urban area could cause extensive structural damage and potentially destroy buildings nearby. Historic bombs therefore remain a genuine threat despite their age.
The danger is not merely theoretical. In 2010, three German bomb-disposal specialists were killed while dealing with a 500kg American bomb discovered beneath a construction site in Göttingen. Other incidents involving old bombs have caused serious injuries and deaths in Europe and elsewhere.
The passage of time can make these weapons harder, rather than easier, to understand.
Corrosion, rust, ground movement and deterioration can alter the condition of a fuze. Specialists cannot always know why a bomb failed to explode when it originally landed, making it difficult to predict precisely how it will behave decades later.
That uncertainty became central to the operation in Plymouth.
Royal Navy bomb-disposal operator PO Scott Dooley arrived at the site during the afternoon. Police had already begun establishing an exclusion zone because a school and a glass-fronted hotel were located nearby.
The first priority was determining the condition of the bomb’s fuze.
A fuze is the mechanism that initiates the explosive sequence. Some wartime German bombs used electrical systems, while others were fitted with mechanical delayed-action fuzes designed to explode hours or days after landing.
If specialists determine that a fuze is dangerously sensitive, moving the bomb may create an unacceptable risk. In such circumstances, the preferred option may be to destroy the device where it lies after taking steps to protect nearby people and property.
Dooley faced an additional difficulty because the bomb’s fuze was buried beneath mud.
The device had remained more than four metres underground for decades and was heavily covered in clay. Specialists carefully exposed it while remaining alert to any indication that a mechanical fuze could be active.
A listening device known as a microphone stethoscope was used to detect a ticking mechanism.
There was no ticking.
But silence did not automatically mean the bomb was safe. The team still needed to determine exactly what type of fuze was present and whether it had deteriorated.
The fuze was so badly degraded that its original markings could no longer be read. Without those markings, the specialists could not simply identify its precise characteristics.
They therefore turned to X-ray equipment to examine the device without having to open it.
While the Plymouth operation was under way, Capt Liam Kidman was travelling towards Exmouth.
Kidman had expected to spend time at home after completing a difficult previous assignment involving explosives found inside a safe in rural Wales. Instead, the discovery of two bombs in Devon resulted in another immediate deployment.
By evening, he had reached Exmouth Marina.
The 250kg bomb was sitting on the open deck of the dredger in the harbour. Unlike the Plymouth device, it could not be approached easily from land.
The unusual circumstances also meant that normal responsibilities had become blurred. The army generally deals with land-based incidents while naval specialists handle explosives found at sea, but the simultaneous discoveries meant personnel had to adapt quickly.
The Exmouth bomb presented another major concern because it had already been disturbed. It had been lifted from the seabed by the dredging vessel and placed on a metal deck.
If it contained a mechanical delayed-action fuze, the movement could theoretically have affected its condition.
The team needed to establish whether the bomb was ticking.
A sergeant was taken out to the dredger and placed a microphone stethoscope against the device.
Again, there was silence.
That brought relief, but not certainty.
Modern bomb disposal relies heavily on technology that would have been unimaginable to the specialists who first dealt with these weapons during the Blitz. Today’s teams can use remotely operated robots, cameras, remote listening devices and X-ray equipment to reduce the need for direct human contact.
Yet technology cannot eliminate the uncertainty created by eight decades of corrosion and deterioration.
Britain’s bomb-disposal profession was itself created during the Second World War as the scale of unexploded ordnance became impossible to manage through ordinary emergency services.
Early Royal Engineers teams were equipped with little more than basic tools and stethoscopes. Their workload quickly became overwhelming as thousands of unexploded bombs were reported during the Blitz.
Those early specialists faced extraordinary risks, with historical accounts describing extremely short life expectancies among some bomb-disposal personnel.
Their meticulous work nevertheless created an invaluable legacy. Wartime bomb maps and records remain useful today, allowing modern specialists to identify areas that were heavily targeted and assess the likelihood of unexploded ordnance beneath present-day developments.
Researchers studying historical bombing records have been able to determine the likely dates on which the Plymouth and Exmouth bombs were dropped.
The continuing discoveries also demonstrate why the threat cannot simply be regarded as a historical curiosity.
For developers, local authorities and military specialists, the lesson is straightforward: a bomb that failed to explode in 1941 does not necessarily become harmless simply because it has survived for 80 years.
The risk may be reduced by careful assessment, modern equipment and detailed historical research, but the underlying explosive remains capable of causing serious harm.
As Britain continues to build new homes, expand towns and redevelop land affected by wartime bombing, the work of bomb-disposal teams is likely to remain necessary for years to come.
The specialists who respond to these incidents are therefore not simply clearing remnants of history. They are managing a continuing hazard created by decisions made generations ago.
And when a forgotten bomb emerges from beneath a building site or the seabed, the priority remains the same as it was during the war: protect human life first, understand the device, and only then decide how it can be safely removed or destroyed.




























































































