Secret Life of Bletchley Park - McKay Sinclair [64]
The fight between Bletchley Park and the monolithic bureaucracy grew so rancorous that eventually Churchill got to hear of it. As recorded in one Park memo, ‘the shortage of personnel reached the ears of the PM who directed Ismay to render an immediate report on the shortage of female personnel.’
It was a significant problem, as another memo from September 1941 makes clear: ‘We have had some very considerable difficulty in recruitment, especially women clerks, and we are now considerably underborne with the result that some very important jobs are being held up.’
Some women – even if headhunted for positions – seemed most reluctant to do their bit. This letter, from a Whitehall acquaintance of Denniston’s, concerning a potential female recruit, illustrated the problem vividly: ‘the lady didn’t want to go to BP as she thought the specialised work there would not fit her, particularly for administrative work after the war … Waterfield [the recruiter] is in a rage and is apparently calling for the lady again to tell her it must be BP or nothing.’5
The lady concerned might have had a point. Some of the females who did make it to Bletchley seem to have initially regretted doing so. Certainly, the massive influx of Wrens into the town created an enormous amount of strain. One Superintendent E. Blagrove wrote: ‘There were many difficulties in the early days in the struggle to live. Ration cards failed to appear, the bath and laundry situation caused many headaches, medical and dental arrangements had to be organised and the problem of billets was always cropping up.’6
The conditions of the work could seem at first rather heart-sinking too. Codebreaker Diana Plowman recalled: ‘The Hut next to mine was flanked on each side by great flanks of teleprinters manned by Wrens. Tho’ I wasn’t supposed to see. Security was so great we might have been in a prison camp.’
However, as Superintendent Blagrove reported, a rather more positive frame of mind began to become apparent among the girls: ‘There was a magnificent spirit among these pioneers and wherever they turned they found great co-operation and many helping hands. The stimulation was the knowledge of the essential work on which they were employed.
‘Their keenness to do well and their enthusiasm was the inspiration for all who came later. These ratings were destined to be the future officers and chief wrens of their section.’
14 Food, Booze and Too Much Tea
If an army marches on its stomach, then it would also seem to be the case that the most absent-minded and eccentric of boffins and linguists decrypted on theirs. One of the subjects that seems to cause the sharpest polarisation in views of Bletchley Park is neither the pressure of the work, nor the tension of keeping it secret – but the quality of the food (and indeed of the drink) that was on offer.
And this is perhaps not surprising. In a time of severe rationing, it was only natural that young appetites would be sharpened. And the taste, smell and texture of food is one of those things, like scents, that have the power to bring old memories sharply into focus. Just as Evelyn Waugh’s son Auberon recalled that an intense feature of his post-wartime childhood was the very occasional manifestation of bananas, so Bletchley Park veterans now find themselves amused to think back to the food that they were served up on both day and night shifts. One might think that in such a rarefied, cerebral atmosphere, that food would be low on the list of daily concerns. But it wasn’t.
‘The food was disgusting,’ declares Sarah Baring. She elaborated vividly in her personal memoir of life at the Park:
We thought a lot about food. Night watches were especially vulnerable to rumbling tummies and usually forced us to go down to the canteen at 3 a.m., where the food was indescribably awful. It is a well-known fact that to cater for so many people is difficult, and particularly