Tuesday, November 11, 2014

Birmingham Day 2 – Bletchley Park


11/8/2014


Mansion at Bletchley Park

Baby was so excited this morning—actually, when hasn’t she been super chirpy this trip? It’s all the places she wants to visit. We’d watched Bletchley Circle on PBS and really loved all the girl power in Bletchley. So, Bletchley Park was very high on Angel’s list of places to visit.

The park is operating on winter hours now, so 9:30am to 4pm. Angel thought that should be plenty of time for us (“We haven’t been in a single castle for more than 3 hours”). Ha. We ended up staying til they kicked us out of Block B—well, not really kicked, but they were turning off the lights as we finished each portion of the exhibit. This happened to us in the Roman Baths too. We seem to be the last to come out of a lot of things.

Bletchley Park is a 1.5 hour train ride away from Birmingham. I found out later today that Bletchley is actually closer to London by ½ hour, so if we ever decide to come back (we totally want to!), we should do it as a day trip from London.

The walk to BP was very short from the Bletchley train station. Turn right, cross the street, and you’re there! We entered the main gate and saw this:


*gasp* Benedict Cumberbatch! As Alan Turing! Angel was super, super stoked…until we saw the exhibit dates. It doesn’t open until Monday, November 10th. Argh. We missed it by 2 days! And then Angel posed the question—what if we come back on Monday? That’s how much she wants to see the exhibit. She didn’t even mind paying again for the train ride here and the admission tickets. I had a buy 1, get 1 free voucher to BP from the Days Out Guide, so I thought why not, we already saved a bit today, let’s come back on Monday.

As it turns out, when you pay for Bletchley admission, you get a season ticket that’s valid for a whole year.


So we can totally go again next year…and we’re going on Monday again, to see the Turing exhibit. Angel and Dad are Turing buffs, so I guess we’ll bring Dad along next year.


The head of Britain’s intelligence agency, Admiral Hugh Sinclair, bought Bletchley Park with his own money during WWII. London was under heavy bombing from the Germans and he didn’t want his code-breaking operations jeopardized by bombing, which is why he chose to locate the operations at Bletchley, a rural country mansion. Bletchley is perfectly located in the middle of Oxford and Cambridge, the two universities they recruited a lot of their codebreakers from.


It was crucial that the Germans never learn of Bletchley Park, so they explained away all the people congregating at BP as “Captain Ridley’s hunting party.”

Initially a motley crew of 200 people, BP grew to a force of almost 9000 strong by the end of the war. 2/3 of which were women.


There were linguists, mathematicians, engineers who all came together to brainstorm, think outside of the box to break German codes.


They first began recruiting debutantes to work here, as they thought that debutantes would keep secrets better. The girls would enter through the gates and be herded up to the mansion, where they were to sign the Official Secrets Act. The commanding officer would instill in them the fear of God should they ever reveal any information to another person of what they were doing at BP. So they never talked about their work even to each other.


When the war was over, all the code-breaking machines were ordered to be dismantled and all the papers burned. The men and women who worked here left to return to ordinary citizen lives and they weren’t allowed to speak of their time at Bletchley, even to their spouses. So many died taking the secrets of Bletchley to their graves.


General Eisenhower had this to say about the workers at Bletchley:


Churchill put it most apt, that Bletchley workers were the “geese that laid the golden eggs and never cackled.” In the age of Facebook and Twitter, who would be able to do that? It’s crazy that this group of dedicated people kept mum for so long. So long, the general public never learned of Bletchley’s existence until 30 years later!



Perhaps one of Bletchley’s greatest achievements (besides being the birthplace of the computer age) is that the code-breakers were able to confirm that Hitler thought the Allies’ invasion would begin at Calais, thus helping ensure the success of Normandy on 6/6. Double agents had been sent out to drop clues to German agents that the Allies were planning to do a preliminary invasion of Normandy as a feint, and that their biggest invasion efforts would then be at Calais. It was essential to learn if Hitler swallowed the false information, and at the 11th hour, code-breakers at Bletchley found out that yes, Hitler believed the double agents’ information.

His decision to move most his forces to Calais to block the Allies helped turn the tide of WWII. D-Day landings were a success and most importantly, double agents had led Hitler to believe that an invasion at Calais was imminent after Normandy…which Hitler believed for more than a month.


Alan Turing, with some of the most brilliant minds in Britain, worked at Bletchley, trying to come up with ways to break German codes. In a letter dated October 1941, some of the heads of Bletchley (including Turing), wrote directly to Churchill, complaining of lack of resources and funds.
Unlike most of his contemporaries, Churchill believed in the work they were doing at Bletchley. He remained convinced that breaking the codes was crucial to winning the war, so he wrote back to Turing and colleagues:

“Make sure they have all they want extreme priority and report to me that this has been done.”

Can you read Churchill's writing? I can't!


After lengthy negotiations, American and Britain agreed to share codebreaking work (as the work was piling up too high for Britain to do alone). America sent a contingent of codebreakers to Bletchley and one BP worker had this to say:


Google has donated a lot of money to BP over the years to help restore Bletchley.





There were dispatch motorcycles on display. Most of the riders were women, who drove all over the country, collecting intercepted radio traffic from Y centers (Wireless Intercept = ‘WI’ = Y) and delivering it to Bletchley to be code-broken. The dispatch riders were initially recruited from amateur riding enthusiasts and they drove their own motorcycles. They’d drive under any weather condition, be it hail or snow, to get this vital information to Bletchley in a timely manner. They didn’t know what exactly was in the bags they were delivering, just that this was part of the war effort and that they were doing their part to help their country.

German Enigma and Lorenz encoding machines were on display, as were the British counterpart, the Typex. The Typex was developed using Enigma as a prototype by the British Air Ministry Signals department. They were advised that they might be infringing on patents, but the government responded in typical bureautic fashion that they would consider paying the patent holders after the war was over. Effectively, this gave them free reign to do whatever they wanted without paying—if the war was won, the company might not be in existence any longer (as the company was German). If the war was lost, then there would be no British government to pay the royalties. How devilishly clever. In any case, the government later said that to pay the royalties would mean admitting the Typex was in existence, and as it’s crucial to never let the existence of Typex be known, then they shouldn’t pay the royalties.

The deciphering machine, the Bombe (well, a recreation anyway, because the originals had been ordered destroyed so that no other country would learn that Britain and America knew how to decode the Germans’ code. Even during WWII, Britain and America never let Russia know that they knew how to decode German code. This would prove vital during the Cold War) was also on display, built by a group of volunteers in the 2000s.


The Bombe machines were developed by Alan Turing and Gordon Welchman and were used to test out possible Enigma settings much faster than humans. This was critical because the Enigma settings were changed on a 24-hour basis.

After having their code broken with humiliating ease during WWI, Germany spent a good decade researching ways to create an invincible code. The government bought encoding machines from the company Lorenz (the machines were sold on open market so anyone could buy them), and changed them to make them more secure.


The culture of Nazi Germany was that they were the invincible race. This spread to their thinking that their code was unbreakable. And for a time, it was. I was reading how they encoded using the Enigma machine and my head was spinning from how crazy it was that BP codebreakers even attempted to make sense of the gibberish the Enigma was spitting out.

Germans were so confident that the Allies wouldn’t be able to break their code, they transmitted over the radio using Morse code. Of course, radio’s easy to listen in. England had a lot of centers around the country with Intercept Operators listening in to the Germans’ gibberish 24/7.


The machine encodes in a way so that there are 158 million, million, million ways to decode. That’s crazy! Tiltman made a go at it, and figured out a pattern after 10 days of continuous work. These brilliant geniuses at BP would work round the clock at the beginning of the war, and it’s said that they were distracted by the humdrums of daily life. A women who worked at Bletchley described them as “unclean,” and they often threw their cups into the lake instead of losing time (and train of thought) taking the cups back to the canteen. Dilly Knox, another of Bletchley’s geniuses, was said to do his best thinking during his hours in the bathtub.

This is the building that housed a lot of the Enigma codebreaking machines, where the workers worked tirelessly to decode Italian, Japanese and German codes:


Since most of the buildings were hastily built during WWII, a lot of the buildings were destroyed after the war.

When Hitler was gaining power in the 1930s and before WWII broke out, a Polish post office clerk noticed a big package sitting in the post office that was addressed to German officers. The rather astute postal clerk and his colleagues opened the package and figured out that this was a new type of encoding machine. They took meticulous pictures of the machine, then dismantled it to see how it worked before putting everything back together again and wrapping it up. The German officers came to pick up the package, never the wiser that it’d been opened—and dismantled, no less!

The information was given to Polish cryptanalysts, who were able to use the photographs to build a model of the German encoding machine. They were able to listen in successfully on German plans for a good few years before German officers added additional security features.

Then WWII broke out for good. France became occupied, Britain under air bomb siege. The Polish cryptanalysts called a conference with the Allies and handed off the blueprints of the German encoding machine. This was a vital piece of missing information for the Allies. They were able to take what the Poles had given them and run with it, ultimately producing the Bombe machine, which could quickly compute and spit out what the day’s key might be.

The Bombe machine

The Bombe machine was so called because the Polish cryptanalysts had called their model, the precursor to the Bombe, the “Bomba.” They’d been eating a particular type of ice cream called the “Bomba” at a café. The word was corrupted into English, then turned into Bombe.


The Bombes were operated mostly by WRNS (Women’s Royal Navy, or WRENS).

Enigma machine once owned by Italian dictator Benito Mussolini

A Japanese flag thought to be worn by a Kamikaze pilot:


He would have worn the flag around his head, like a scarf. The flag is adorned with well-wisher’s good lucks, like “At least I shall kill one enemy for the Emperor.”

They had an exhibit about double agents. Juan Pujol was codenamed Garbo because he was considered such a good actor, in the league of Greta Garbo. He was awarded medals by both sides, the British Empire and the German Iron Cross. 3 hours after the D-Day landings had started, he informed German intelligence of the fact, and it was the first reporting that German intelligence got of the D-Day landings that day. This enhanced his reputation for accuracy. He then convinced German intelligence that the Normandy invasion was a deception, and the main invasion area would be Calais. Hitler believed him and 12 German armored divisions remained at Calais for 120 days. Even after the blows at D-Day, Hitler didn’t move these divisions.

Another agent convinced German intelligence to open up a spy outpost because he claimed he could successfully recruit spies abroad. He was given funding for this, and he set up fake spies to claim their paychecks. The money was funneled into MI5, some 85,000 pounds.

As Alan Turing worked here as one of the first codebreakers at Bletchley, they had a lot of information detailing his life. Sadly, not many of his personal effects remain. A cherished watch was on display, as was his teddy bear, Porgy. He bought Porgy when he was an adult:


At Cambridge, he would practice his lectures in front of Porgy. Ha. It’s like I always tell Angel…talk to the wall! Well, I tell her to talk to Pooh too, but she’d rather flap his arms around at me.

Turing was a rower on the Cambridge rowing team as well as a cross country runner. Very accomplished man! After his death, his mother lived to research his works and achievements, but his time at Bletchley was still state secret. It was only some years after his death that she received a letter that detailed a wee bit of her son’s accomplishments at Bletchley. She made the connection to his letters during those years as “His enforced silence concerning his work quite ruined him as a correspondent; his letters from then on became infrequent and scrappy.”

One of Turing’s most important papers (posing the question “Can machines think?”) was on display.


There’s a guided tour every ½ hour starting at noon, with the last one at 2:30pm. You have to go up to the mansion to get a ticket to the tour (included in price of admission). All the tickets to the 1:30pm were taken, so we had to wait for the 2pm tour. It was pouring rain by that time and freezing cold. The tour starts at the Chauffeur’s Hut, then takes you along the grounds to point out key aspects. Like the stables, where there’s a pigeon loft above the stables. Technology was advancing rapidly in WWII, but they still relied on messenger pigeons to relay messages. The pigeons were considered a reliable way to get information into the necessary hands.

Stable with pigeon loft above

This is the gate the recruited girls would travel through when they first arrived at Bletchley:


Also the cottages where the senior code-breakers assembled, like Dilly Knox of the long baths and Alan Turing:


Angel: After an entire day at Bletchley with countless interactive exhibits explaining the workings of the Enigma and Lorenz machines, Jen wanted to have a section about the “things that turn” on the blog. =)


The Enigma was used by the rest of the German army and each unit had their own “menu” that reset at midnight every day. The navy had a different Enigma machine from the army which had 4 rotators instead of only 3, making the naval encryptions harder to crack.

To prevent the enemy from finding out that the Enigma code had been cracked, reports from Bletchley were often reworded to make it appear that the information had come from spies working abroad.

There was a different cipher machine known as the Lorenz which was reserved for Hitler and his highest generals to use; it was in theory more cryptographically secure and was codenamed “Fish” by the people at Bletchley Park. However, in the end its code was still broken in part due to a German operator’s error of sending a long message (around 4000 characters) twice using the same wheel-combination. This gave the code-breakers at Bletchley the needed depth to crack the code.

The Lorenz was only declassified in 2003, so a lot of people who worked on decoding it had already died.

When we arrived back in Birmingham, it was to find this:


A full-on Christmas parade was in progress and it cut off the main road! We had no way of getting across to get to our hotel, except to walk all the way down the street to where the parade had already ended, cross there, and come back around again. I wanted to watch the parade, as there were a lot of people on both sides watching with excitement. Angel said, “You think they’ve never seen a Disney parade before, and Disney parades are better.” :P








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