Prince William Of Gloucester (death location)

Prince William was named after Prince Charles’s idol Prince William Of Gloucester. He was the Queen’s cousin (a page boy at her wedding), a daredevil, a real life Action Man so it was normal that Charles adored him. Sadly William died at just 30 when the plane he was flying crashed at an air show near Wolverhampton. I’ve seen two documentaries about this man and after watching one thought to myself, “I’m a nosy geek and going to the exact spot of the crash.” Here I am at the on the road by some hedges where two lives ended. In recent history members of the Royal Family live long lives but this one didn’t.

William was high born, his granddad was King George and his grandma was Queen Mary. He was fourth in line to the throne when he was born to Duke and Duchess of Gloucester in the Second World War. When he was baptised at Windsor Castle in 1942 the newspapers didn’t identify the location of the christening in case it was attacked by German bombers. It was a traditional childhood: home was Barnwell Manor in Northamptonshire and his education was the best on offer at Wellesley House School, Eton College and then onto Magdalene College in Cambridge. He took a position with Lazards merchant bank and then went into the diplomatic service.

He was especially cherished by his family as his mother was forty when she gave birth to him having lost others to miscarriages. He was their last attempt to have a child. The Press cherished him too as he got older - film-star looks, flashy cars and a heightened sense of adventure. This modern daring dude seemed to be tune with the razzamatazz of the sixties. William didn’t like their flashbulbs though and aged 27 transferred to Tokyo to work at the British Embassy. Here he had a relationship with Zsuzsi Starkloff, a former model and stewardess. Bad news: she was twice divorced and a mother of two small children; William's family wouldn’t accept the relationship as appropriate. It’s thought the Queen’s sister Princess Margaret was sent to Tokyo under the varnish of a “business trip” to scupper the relationship. William was forced to return home anyway when his dad had a stroke and he was required to look after the family estate and carry out royal duties as a prince. After much agonising he put the relationship with Zsuzsi on hold.

William’s passion would kill him. His abiding love was for aviation and he was the youngest royal member to gain a pilot’s licence. He needed danger as an antidote to the drudgery of royal duties. He hated prying eyes and loved getting up in a plane where he could escape from attention. Flying was nearly everything to him. When he’d got the job in Tokyo he flew himself there through storms in 16 hours. He was President of the British Light Aviation Centre and owned several aircraft.

In August 1972 when he attended the Goodyear International Air Trophy at Bobbington Airport he considered it one of many he’d attend that year. He loved these amateur air show races when adrenaline surged. It was a bank holiday Monday and 30,000 spectators watched as the prince arrived looking like James Bond. The press was there and took photos of the prince polishing his Piper Cherokee. He took off with Vyrell Mitchell, a pilot with whom he’d raced with many times before. Almost immediately after take-off the engine stalled. The plane banked abruptly, a wing hit a tree and they crashed onto the road. Locals dashed out of their houses to help but the flames were too intense. It took two hours for the fire brigade to control the flames. The two bodies were almost cremated and were identified by dental records.

William’s dad was in such poor health that his wife couldn’t bring herself to tell him about the news. In her memoirs she guessed he’d learnt about the death from television coverage. Prince William was buried with some royal pomp in the Royal Burial Ground at Frogmore (next to his dad.) There’s some footage of it on the internet, the royal family in black watching the coffin being manoeuvred but it can only have contained ashes.

I struggled to find the crash spot on Six Ashes Road. It’s a long rural road populated by occasional detached houses and long hedges (coming into Bobbington I’d passed the death spot and driven over it - engrossed in an audio book)). I parked the motorhome in a layby and spent probably two hours tramping around quiet narrow lanes of Bobbington. Frustrated I got in it and drove up some narrow lanes around the airstrip itself. Normally I give up after ninety minutes but I knew I must be near the death spot. I showed a photo of the crash to some people sat outside a pub but had no luck. Growing despondent I was ready to leave and head for Wales for a couple of days. Eventually I found the exactly part of the road where the Cherokee crashed, lining up the photo I had with the road’s bend and lines of trees.

It seemed a little odd to be there where a member of the Royal family had died so young. I stayed for about twenty minutes unable to take just five photos and drive off. The tree one wing had clipped is still there. Had they missed a tree they could have attempted a crash landing in the field behind it. I could see a dip in the height of the hedges where they’d not grown back as strongly after the fire. I found a tiny plaque on a tree but nothing else to mark the spot. Two lives ended here. By the time William died he was ninth in line to the throne but the press would have loved him.

Some footage of the fateful day is here…

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=z_vBtWugPy0

There’s a full documentary here…

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=brvn4Yet_cU

Prince William was the Queen’s cousin…