Deserted Welsh Hamlet That Resists Time: Residents Ordered Out Decades Ago, Yet Stands Tall

Imagine a bustling Welsh community, now a ghost of its former self. Back in 1939, Epynt was a vibrant expanse of farms, a pub, and even a chapel, where over 200 residents once thrived. Then came the call for war. The Ministry of Defence swept in with plans to transform this peaceful haven into a training ground for soldiers. By April 1940, families, whose roots ran centuries deep, were told to leave—everything they knew, wiped out for the war effort.
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Epynt residents were given little choice. With promises of compensation, many believed they’d return post-war. But time proved them wrong. The land remained under military control, now known as the Sennybridge Training Area, still echoing with the drills of British soldiers. For those families, the legacy left is a scattering of gravestones and the old Drovers Arms pub, still stubbornly standing amidst the artillery range.

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The story of Thomas Morgan embodies the spirit of Epynt. Regularly returning to light a fire and keep his home warm through harsh weather, he clung to hope. Yet, one day, soldiers stopped him—it was gone, reduced to rubble. The earth beneath Epynt still holds whispers of its past; an unyielding reminder seen in the windswept stones of Capel y Babell, where once joyful St David’s Day festivities took place. Residents clung to relics of their homes; some took doors, others, just memories.

Current MP Ben Lake once spoke of his grandmother Beryl Lake, the last baby born in Epynt, highlighting the forgotten tales of displacement. The struggle these families faced was significant, yet it never reached the folklore status of other Welsh tales like Tryweryn’s Capel Celyn. Though the land’s military purpose overshadows its history, once more, “Cofiwch Epynt” graffiti appears, echoing the pleas for remembrance.

Today, you can venture along the Epynt Way, where nature and military presence coexist. The echoes of the past linger, in the calls of red kites above and the somber sound of marching troops below. An untold chapter, waiting for its stories to be remembered.