"The poetry of the bunker is in its still being a shield for its users” – Paul Virilio

The concrete mounds unearthed in the overgrown Bohemian forests stand as reminders of the horrors of the war to this day. Built as bunkers during World War II for protection against air warfare, the structures have been long forgotten in time. The solid concrete structures, which French architect and cultural theorist Paul Virilio, likened to funerary architecture, stand unused and decaying in a fragmented network across Europe. One such disjointed barrier was built by erstwhile Czechoslovakia as a defence mechanism against German forces. Ten thousand fortresses of the so-called “Řopík” bunkers stand along the borders of the nation.

Of the many possibilities of what should be done with these structures displaced by time, the primary question posed is one of functionality: how do we put these monoliths to use? One such possible use is demonstrated by Czech-Swedish architectural practice, Lasovsky Johansson Architects with their project, Bunker V37.

In an age where the prefix re- seems to dominate architectural practice—reuse, redevelopment, regeneration—could the 'cryptic architecture' of war be reborn through a sensitive architectural program? These bunkers, seeming precursors to Brutalist architecture, have been reimagined as mountain cabins in the proposal by the Czech-Swedish designers. In their scheme, singular bunkers will become part of a larger development plan that intends to create rest stops in the form of mountain huts, information points, activity, and meeting places along regional or national hiking routes in the region. 

The original concrete architecture of the bunker consisted of an inside floor area of only 8.5sqm, with 1.2m thick reinforced walls. These had few openings, making the interiors feel dingy and unsuitable for regular use. To overcome this while keeping the soft form of the bunker intact, the designers devised a solution: cutting into the concrete and creating a horizontal glazed strip all along the profile. This apart from letting in natural light allows for panoramic views of the surrounding landscape. Moreover, cleaving the original form is meant to increase the usable area to 24 sqm by creating a continuous bench of thick concrete walls. The central load-bearing walls support the top half of the bunker. Lifting the roof structure also gives the design team a higher ceiling height to work with, which could be used to create a sleeping loft or for extra storage.

The interior design for the cabins is minimal, with activities centred around the hearth. Storage spaces and a concrete bench ring the exterior walls. The two “ears” that functioned as barriers against entering the bunker are transformed into storage spaces. The ground floor, with its cool concrete finish, makes provision for a kitchen and dining space. Spaces for resting are provided in the loft. The bare interiors which feel almost monastic, still create a sense of cosiness from the outside. The bunkers, "as though a subterranean civilisation had sprung up from the ground” are envisioned to potentially transform hiking routes in the Czech landscape.

On the larger idea behind the speculative design, the architects reiterate, “The aim of this study is to draw attention to the unused potential of these bunkers by proposing a transformation and future use while preserving the bunkers' interesting form.” While making use of now-defunct infrastructure and making a case for adaptive reuse, the design also highlights how we might design in sensitive contexts with the spectre of history looming over us. Can old war bunkers be transformed into mountain retreats that sit within the natural landscape of the Czech Republic? 

Virilio questioned whether one could find architectural insight in a relic such as a bunker, if one could disregard the histories associated with their existence and appreciate them for their form, in his seminal work Bunker Archaeology. He never reaches a conclusion writing, “The poetry of the bunker is in its still being a shield for its users, in the end as outdated as an infant’s rebuilt armour, an empty shell, an emotionally moving phantom of an old-fashioned duel where the adversaries could still look each other in the eye through the narrow slits of their helmets.” Just as the bunkers along France’s northwestern coast fascinated him, these modern ruins continue to attract intrigue for theorists, historians and designers alike. While an interesting project, the answer remains uncertain. Just like postwar Brutalism which remains polemic in the public eye to this day, the rendered image of the bunkers in the forest looks like something out of the popular video game, Last of Us, protecting the inhabitants within from the elements outside.