Ann L. Dent

I was born in 1924. My father Dr. John Dent practised in Kensington. Both my parents from Quaker stock hated schools so I had no formal education except slight maths and masses of diverse books. Evacuated to Warwickshire, I attended the school aged 16. I came to London aged 17 and went to St. Martins School where I passed two exams. When aged 18 I was called up for war work, Joan Rubinstein suggested I do the same work as her in the Foreign Office. This required, apparently, no qualifications but three references which I obtained from our local vicar, an old friend Blair Broman in the foreign office and my father’s cousin Admiral Cunningham; I was interviewed by a woman in an office on Bletchley Street, Mayfair, at this interview I was asked what were my interests regarding sport: none but I played chess. I signed the secrets act and received instructions to go to a town called Bletchley by train, where I would be met. My recollections here are very hazy as my life was hectic with bombing in London and parting with my family to go to God knows where to do God knows what. I was billeted in George Street Bletchley and given a pass to enter the park where I took up my job in N.S.V Japanese section under Cmdr. Dugmore R.N.V.R. I started filing for Joan Rubinstein; the traffic was Japanese Kana weather reports and marine activities. I worked for Hugh Benstead in a room with about six others. I was filing and keeping a card index of call signs and marine activities obtained from wireless traffic delivered several times a day. Monica Devas was my immediate boss. I had no idea what everyone else was doing in this place let alone in the rooms next door, the park as a whole, we NEVER dismissed our work – simply did what we were told. The hut we worked in had central heating; the loos were clean but very cold. We could not see out of the windows but there was plenty of light. There were many R.N.V.R officers all very charming in one case Peter Laslett ex King’s College Cambridge don, a Japanese pundit. Two Cambridge pundits Everett and Outran were connected with our setup, there was a lot of talk about a man who worked tirelessly eventually killing himself, was his name Foss? Everyone said he should have been awarded the V.C. Howard Williams a Swede. Of course there were many WRNS, the high ranking ones extremely attractive, one Elizabeth Moncrieff was a man eater in a big way. We were visited by high ranking people from the Admiralty all in resplendent uniforms. The visiting high ranking personnel from the three services were required to come in mufti so as not to draw attention to the nature of B.P. The naval lot refused absolutely so Bletchley Station platform sometimes exhibited unusual passengers. My job developed over the months to become a traffic analyst producing deductions based upon tented wireless traffic activity and reported events in the W/T stations and Japanese Marine activity. The Kana preambles linked up with geographic localities. I had obtained a map of the pacific area from Stanford’s in London (they never closed during the war) upon which I placed coloured pins locating Japanese W/T stations shipping movement the position of which was obtained from wireless traffic in Kana code. The code signs and other strategic information was listed and card indexed. Suddenly the Dugmore regime ended. He was replaced by Dr. Jack Plumb (now sir John) a Cambridge Don. There had been considerable over staffing, identical work being done in adjacent rooms, a generally relaxed attitude prevailed with impromptu hockey games in the corridor. All this abruptly ended – he simply disappeared. Our section underwent rationalisation ending cosy groups and a three-shift system was introduced. As my work involved contact with Admiralty where in my case did not involve the midnight to dawn shift it would be unproductive. This refusal to conform infuriated the rationaliser Arthur Ramus, who insulted my uniform. As luck would have it I was rushed to the sick bay with acute appendicitis necessitating my leaving for an operation in London thus absolving me from the 3 shift duty, much to the fury of Mr. Ramus who suggested that my father being a doctor had arranged this. Needless to say thereafter our relationship was frosty. Apart from being located in different rooms my work remained the same until the end of the Pacific war. We worked two weeks, nine hours a day per shift with two days off. Apart from the above operation I was never ill. Regarding payment I simply do not remember. I was billeted with the chief fire officer for Bletchley Park. The house in George Street a typical industrial two bedroom cottage with outside loo and bath in the kitchen acting as a table when not in use. One bath a week, this consisted of very little hot water obtained from heating up containers on the cooker. As the kitchen had inadequate curtains the window looking directly on the neighbours, I was leered by the man next door, not funny. The food provided by the very nervous wife was awful. The bedroom was freezing, with cold water to wash with in an elaborate washstand. Mr. Brooks was very pleasant and introduced me to bell ringing but his wife was incredibly thin and was quite hysterical when a telephone had to be installed for her husband’s work. They had a daughter not living at home. When describing my condition to a friend Captain Richard Walford in the German section, he said I should complain but I did not complain. Eventually having missed my transport Richard saw me home arriving at almost 12:30 midnight. The door was locked on repeated knocking. Brookes lent out the upstairs window screaming that I was a prostitute and would not let me in. Richard was outraged and took me back to his office where there was a camp bed. He arranged for me to be billeted near him in Milton Keynes with the vicar and his wife Mrs. Field – this was absolute heaven. She was a dear, there were always tea and cakes left out for us – three civilians were billeted in her lovely 18th century vicarage, the food was good and enough of it. She was a kind woman. Her husband was extremely eccentric with a vast collection of police hat badges which he delighted in showing. His sermons dwelt upon secular subjects sometimes quite abstract. The village being situated near the Great North Road all traffic passed leaving it very isolated resulting in intermarriage producing people of low intelligence. The sudden arrival of code breakers in their rural idyll, being ferried in luxurious transport- driven by beautiful female drivers left some of them very confused! The baths at Mrs. Fields were hot and plentiful.
Recreation.
Outside the park near the entrance where passes had to be shown, was a hall in which dances and recitals and meetings were held. Myra Hess played on several occasions. A flourishing choral society held weekly rehearsals which I attended. We went to Bedford one Christmas to sing carols. Art exhibitions took place to which I contributed and sold. Sunday chess games were organised in the mansion to which anyone brave enough could play the top pundits. I simply watched. One of the things I enjoyed was eating in the canteen just – outside the park. The food was pretty awful but I sat near complete strangers who worked in the other sections and I had marvellous conversations. I struck up a slight friendship simply in this situation with a very charming man, we had marvellous arguments. I did not know his name. My friend Richard suggested I went with him to lunch with someone in Oxford, this turned out to be Thomas Higham the man! He was public orator at Oxford University. He later commissioned me to do a drawing of his rooms at Trinity. Needless to say I had no idea where he worked or what he did. Angus Johnson Wilson (later Sir) worked in my section and we had terrific fun watching him perform. He was always surrounded by adoring WRENS. His wit was very acid but very amusing; he mimicked middle class women perfectly. I once heard him delight his group with a description of a “perfectly frightful middle class family” whose husband worked in the British Museum with awful daughters on the lookout for “young men”. Angus worked at the British Museum. I did not tell him of my relationship. Later I painted his portrait which is now on the National Portrait Gallery. Life was very stimulating, one was very aware of the bombing in London. I had to resist the compulsion to ring up home to hear voices. On the trip from Euston Station to Kensington where I lived one passed a huge mountain of debris in Hyde Park, this was the dumping ground for destroyed buildings. One night walking home from a dance in Park Lane the sky was alight over Holland Park, all the birds were singing at 3am. It was beautiful Holland House in flames. Often the train from Bletchley to Euston was held up at Watford Junction owing to bombing, sometimes making passengers leave the train and find alternative transport. The euphoria produced by V.E day celebrations of course was close but the Japanese war continued. The final months were very dismal with most of the park disbanding. Immediately after V.J day I was visited by Mrs. Beaumont who thanked me for my work and said good day. That was it. I collected my luggage and returned home.