By Caprice Tesoriero and Paige Jenkins

 

Wollongong’s Fort Drummond has lived many lives, transforming alongside the community. Growing and changing as it was needed. A protector. A secret. A home for so many. So why now is it discarded? Left forgotten and empty. 

Unlike a seashell to the ear, the stillness of stagnant air trapped in layers of concrete is the only sound that greets you aside from the occasional car travelling past, unaware or uncaring that it’s there.

But before? Before it was imbued with life, and filled with purpose.

It was nearly 30 years ago when the Fort fell silent. The No 14 Wollongong Flight Air Training Corps were forced out by the Department of Defence in the spring of 1997. Alongside disappointment over the move, concerns were raised in an article by the Illawarra Mercury, on the effect the relocation would have on the heritage buildings on the site.

Illawarra Mercury, 13 September 1997

The concerns were well-founded. Most of the site is now reclaimed by nature.

 

Eighty years ago, Fort Drummond was a hubbub of activity. At the height of World War Two, in 1942, Fort Drummond was the beating heart of a frightened coastline. A concrete fortress built into the hillside of Mount Saint Thomas, watching over a coastline braced for war. 

The Illawarra played a strategic role in Australia’s defence. Routes like Mount Ousley and the roads between Picton and Wilton were constructed to ensure easy movement between Sydney, the Illawarra, and inland New South Wales. Now, much like Fort Drummond, these crucial roads and sites blend into the everyday landscape.

Retired Lieutenant Colonel Professor Michael Hough has been instrumental in preserving the Illawarra’s military history. His personal experience and thirst for knowledge introduced us to stories that have almost been lost to time for most of the public.

“Australia didn’t spend much money defending Australia in World War One; but in World War Two, Japan came into the game, and suddenly we had to defend Australia,” Professor Hough said.

“The concern was Port Kembla.” 

With Australia’s leading steel manufacturer mere kilometres away, the threat of production interruption was very real. Any form of successful attack on the coastline could have incapacitated the ability to create weapons and protect the country.

Hidden beneath layers of the earth and secrecy, Fort Drummond’s tunnels cradled 9.2-inch coastal guns, ready to defend the city from an enemy that never came. 

Fort Drummond c.1943 – National Trust Register January 2022

Its guns were fired once.  A single test that shattered windows as far as you could walk in 20 minutes in every direction. Then silence. 

The guns were dismantled and shipped north to Bribie Island, closer to the Coral Sea, where the battle lines had shifted in 1967 during the Vietnam War.

Illawarra Mercury, 10 October 1962

All that remained was an empty stronghold, with only a mushroom farm for company between 1966 and 1972.

Its purpose had been stripped away; its stories sealed behind concrete walls. 

Like much of Wollongong’s wartime past, Fort Drummond, built on and under land with such rich history, lingers quietly about the city. Not gone, just neglected and left to be forgotten.

When the war ended, the Royal Australian Air Force took control of the site, opening a new chapter for the historic ground. 

In 1961, just before the “fangs of Fort Drummond” were removed in installments, the Flight of the Air Training Corps was relocated from Belmont to Fort Drummond under the command of Flight Lieutenant R. “Dick” Handel. What had once been a fortress became a classroom, a place where Wollongong’s youth learned discipline, teamwork, and leadership.

Over the decades, the Flight became a source of pride for the city. Its cadets a familiar sight at parades and ceremonies, representing Wollongong with quiet precision. They earned the Air Force Association Trophy as the “Best Flight in the NSW Squadron” and formed guards of honour for visiting royalty, including Queen Elizabeth II in 1970 and the Prince of Wales in 1977.

By the late 1980s, the unit had proudly adopted the name No. 14 (City of Wollongong) Flight.

Today, only two 1000lb bombs remain cemented at the Fort’s entrance. Silent sentinels linking Wollongong’s wartime history with the aspirations of its youth.

With a population of over 300,000 and a tourism industry that brings in billions of dollars in mainly food and accommodation, Wollongong has gaps to fill when it comes to remembering its military history. 

Map of the layout of Fort Drummond Battery, associated camp and leased properties, July 1943 – National Archives of Australia

Manager of the Heritage and Learning Centre of the HMAS Cresswell, Penny Edwell says that heritage is undernourished in Wollongong. 

“Wollongong is a massive regional city. It’s got a big population and multiple industries, but no original museums. The museums that it does have are volunteer run and managed… and are at risk of disappearing as we don’t have the infrastructure to support heritage,” Ms Edwell said.

“This is an issue that has come up as the population grows and tourism becomes bigger for Wollongong with the beaches and being so close to Sydney. Developing sites like Fort Drummond would be an amazing thing, both locally and for tourism.”

Ms Edwell is not the only one who believes this is a missed opportunity.

Wollongong Council proposed a draft Conservation Management Plan back in August for the Smith’s Hill and Flagstaff Hill Fortifications. The draft plan aims to provide policy guidance around future decision making and usage for the Forts, including the potential for guided tours. 

Council is inviting feedback from locals to help shape the future of these sites. The draft plan is on exhibition until November 12 2025.

Fort Drummond has shaped generations. Now, as Wollongong grows, perhaps it’s time it found a new purpose. Beneath the overgrowth and concrete, lies a piece of the city’s heartbeat. A reminder that heritage isn’t only what we preserve in museums, but what we choose to remember. 

As Churchill warned, “Those that fail to learn from history are doomed to repeat it.” 

Fort Drummond has learned the art of waiting. It has waited for war, for peace, for the laughter of cadets and now, for someone to remember it.