THEY say that the heart of any Second World War aerodrome was its control tower.

More correctly called a watch office, these buildings played a vital role in operations. They were the nerve centre for air traffic control, the recording of aircraft movements, radio communication (RT, or radio telephony), observation and meteorology (for weather forecasting).

In many ways they are symbolic structures, tangible memorials to the bravery of aircrew who battled in the skies for our freedom and who relied so heavily on the watch office and its dedicated personnel.

Since the end of the war, many of these iconic buildings have been swept away by developers, erasing the memory of those to whom we owe so much.

There was only one RAF station located in the Maldon district during 1939-45.

Known as RAF Bradwell Bay, over the years many of the buildings there have been demolished.

However, those that survive are, in the words of military expert Fred Nash “of major significance in the hierarchy of airfield architecture”.

These currently consist of runways, perimeter track, hangars, station headquarters and, most important of all, the original watch office.

Bradwell had been home to a landing ground from as early as the 1930s, but work on constructing a fully fledged fighter station started in February 1941.

Progress was slow and involved a consortium of smaller contractors, rather than one of the bigger firms, like Lang or Costain.

As a result, it wasn’t until April 1942 that it was ready to receive its first resident squadron - number 418 RCAF, flying Boston Mk.III aircraft. Among my station archive, I have correspondence about the ground works and provision of services and a previously restricted plan (albeit dated 1945) showing the extent of the site and its 300 or so buildings.

Looking at the key, the first building listed in Technical Area Site No.1 is “Control Tower (Watch Office)” – a “permanent building” with the drawing number “12096/41”.

In typical Air Ministry style, that drawing number equated to a “Watch Office for Night Fighter Stations”.

These conformed to a standard design and were made of permanent brick with areas of reinforced concrete.

A good book on the subject is ‘Control Towers’ by Paul Francis (Airfield Research Publishing) which includes known drawing numbers, elevations and a typical internal layout.

In common with the other towers/watch offices of this type, Bradwell’s building was accessed from the rear. There was (and I am told still is) a lobby area and corridor.

Stairs on the left take us to the first floor, but for now we will explore the ground. The room under the stairs was a store, but opposite were the toilets (or more correctly, the “lavatories”), separate ones for officers and airmen.

The Met observer’s room was next on the left, with a rest room opposite.

At the front, facing on to the runways was the watch office with its “pyro (pyrotechnic) cupboard”, for the safe storage of Very flare cartridges and the flare gun.

I understand that, with the exception of that cupboard, some dividing walls to the rest room and in the toilets, the ground floor layout at Bradwell is pretty much unaltered.

Back to the stairs and up on the first floor was the controller’s rest room, another store, R/T chambers and the nerve centre – the control room, complete with a blackout curtain on its runners.

The external railed balcony could be accessed from either side of the room and there was further observation space up on the roof. It was from these outside spaces that the staff “counted the aircraft out and (hopefully, but sadly not always) counted them back”.

I have photographs of the watch office when it was in operation, including shots of three anxious looking airmen on the balcony and a number of views of inside the control room itself.

Looking at those snapshots in time you can just imagine the controller strutting nervously around the room as aircraft limp home one by one.

The constant updating of the operations board. The buzz of coded messages. WAAF’s serving steaming mugs of hot tea.

And the smell of the fumes of flares as they are fired from the roof.

And talking of the roof, that greenhouse-like structure is a post-war addition, but apart from that the watch office looks much as it did when our freedom hung by a thread.

I remember the place in the 1970s when George Prior had it.

I recall it being up for sale in January 2000 (asking price then £160,000).

Today, along with the other surviving structures, believe it or not it is “at risk” of potential demolition to make way for a new power station.

If that tragedy happens, all trace of Bradwell’s wartime past will be lost forever.

That would be, in my opinion, an absolute travesty – nothing short of historic vandalism.

Surely we can serve the memory of the district’s RAF heroes better than that?