Run, Rabbit Run! The arrival of the Second World War in Shetland

The German invasion of Poland in September 1939 and subsequent declaration of hostilities ushered in a period, lasting until the following spring, collectively referred to as the Phoney War, as Allied forces prepared for military operations. The strategic geographical significance and military location of Shetland on the northern periphery of Britain and Europe is less well-known.

Phoney or otherwise, the outbreak of war dictated that this was a period of rapid change. In Shetland, radar stations were established, airfields were expanded and constructed, and personnel across all military branches increased rapidly throughout the islands.

As the hairst* months progressed and crofters harvested crops in preparation for the winter ahead, it was not anticipated that Shetland would be immediately impacted by direct combat action. And yet, a matter of weeks into the war, on 13 November 1939, the first German bombs did not explode over British mainland urban cities or industrial heartlands, but in Shetland, in the agricultural settlement of Sullom, Northmavine.

*Hairst is the Shetland dialect word for autumn.

The target of the Luftwaffe raid was a collection of SARO London flying boats (later replaced by the more familiar Sunderland and Catalina planes of 201 Squadron), alongside two cruisers (HMS Cardiff and HMS Coventry) that were at anchor in Sullom Voe.

Indeed, the environs of Sullom, today synonymous with the major oil and gas terminal operational since 1978, were to become a vital military landscape during the Second World War as gun batteries, troops and associated camps provided cover for two RAF bases (RAF Scatsta and RAF Sullom Voe), designed to undertake anti-submarine patrols and thus prevent damage and provide protection to Allied shipping and convoys in the North Atlantic.

The air raid caused minimal damage, and fortunately, there were no civilian casualties as the four bombs that made landfall were dropped too early, exploding in a field a few hundred yards from their maritime target, narrowly missing a school.

However, the blasts did leave large craters, and a rather notable four-legged victim was claimed that day. Propaganda records the demise of a poor rabbit, as the attention of national news outlets turned to Shetland, reporting the opening aggressive salvos of war.

A local photographer sent to record the aftermath of the air raid at Sullom was Robert Williamson. He called at a local butcher en route from Lerwick to document the event, purchasing several rabbits as photographic props.

These rabbits were held aloft in a posed fashion by his driver to spin a story that, despite war now coming to one of the most remote locations in the United Kingdom, all would surely be well, and victory in Europe ensured, if the total damage amounted to an unfortunate rabbit!

The photographs of the event focus understandably on the bomb craters, with people (and rabbits to a lesser extent!) providing scale. However, the close-up nature of the shots means the images do not include much of the surrounding landscape, making it hard to ascertain the exact location.

In February 2026, I set out on a journey to Nothmavine to attempt to locate the field in question and the remains of the bomb crater. In an age of geo-location, interpretation panels and digital mapping, it was heartening to simply use old-fashioned research and one’s eye to employ detective means and find the correct field before homing in on the site of the bomb crater.

The clues that helped identify the location were the topographic break of slope of the horizon, the angle of shadows cast by those in the photos to determine time of day, the alignment of the adjacent post-and-wire fence, a vehicle positioned on the nearby road and, of course, any archaeological landscape assessment that would hint at the surviving bomb crater after almost nine decades.

The air raid caused minimal damage, and fortunately, there were no civilian casualties as the four bombs that made landfall were dropped too early, exploding in a field a few hundred yards from their maritime target, narrowly missing a school.

The site is now considerably landscaped, although a period of overcast, dreich weather had caused standing water to gather, highlighting the position close to the former manse and congregational chapel on the north side of Sullom Voe.

From this position, looking northeast across the sea inlet towards the present-day oil terminal, the trajectory that the German planes would have taken to attack their sitting-duck target became apparent. The relative lack of damage was a blessing and, to an extent, remains a mystery.

And so to the contemporary link to music, song and dance…

In October 1939, a music hall show written by lyricist Ralph Butler and composer Noel Gay titled The Little Dog Laughed premiered in London. The stars were noted comedic double act Bud Flanagan and Chesney Allen, who were part of the 1930s British entertainment group known as ‘The Crazy Gang’.

The show included a song Run, Rabbit Run which achieved a level of immortalising cultural significance on account of the adaptation of lyrics, in wartime, to ‘Run, Adolf Run’ and reports that it was to become one of Winston Churchill’s favourite humorous melodies.

The song is perhaps wholesome and above suspicion, telling the tale of a farmer hunting a rabbit to make a pie, although the menacing zeitgeist and historical context following the immediate outbreak of the Second World War should be considered.

Erroneously, the October 1939 song Run, Rabbit Run has been attributed to the demise of the rabbit, apparently killed in the November 1939 German bombing raid on Shetland. Although, of course, the latter event post-dated the former. And yet fact and fiction, together with bombs, songs and rabbits, is all a ripping yarn and the partial survival of the bomb crater and location today in an unassuming Shetland field is a notable aspect of British wartime history.

To clarify, no rabbits were harmed in the taking of the images when I visited Sullom in February 2026, the rabbit being replaced with a hat held aloft!

Dive deeper into Shetland's Second World War history – Local history teacher and wartime researcher Jon Sandison visits some of the most important heritage sites.