LADIES OF D-DAY
Down the many steps that led underground into a vast concrete bunker and the then Fighter Command’s Operations Room at Bentley Priory, Stanmore, Middlesex, I slid back the heavy door and entered. The atmosphere hit me immediately. The room was packed; the tension palpable; buzzing activity everywhere. The table was a most extraordinary sight, covered in arrows, all pointing south. The reason was obvious. This was it! It had to be. On this shift of 6 June 1944, D-Day had begun.
It was to become a night that I would never forget. The ops room was manned 24 hours a day by three watches: A, B and C. Tonight the 36 girls of C watch, of which I was one, were on duty. There was much excitement shown when we were looking at the roster to see what we were doing (it varied with each duty). I found I was working with another girl on 11 RDF (radio detection finding), the most vital part of the UK.
Bentley Priory is an historic mansion in extensive grounds on a hill above Stanmore. In 1936, it became the HQ of the newly created Fighter Command, with Air Chief Marshal Sir Hugh Dowding GCB, GCVO, CMG commanding. From here, following the declaration of war in 1939, he made some of the greatest contributions to victory. He believed radar to be the definitive defence system and the operations room its ultimate interpretation. He was proved right.
Bentley’s Operations Room was the only one in the UK with a centrally placed map showing the entire outline of the British Isles, the Channel, North Sea, northern Belgium, Holland and France. Fighter Command was divided into four fighter groups (No 11 Group covered the vital southeast of England), linked to radar and the Royal Observer Corps (ROC). The ops room was the hub, the crucial, decisive nerve centre of Fighter Command.
Around the horseshoe balcony above, sat the Commander-in-Chief (C-in-C), and commanders of the three services, as well as the Ministry of Home Security. Also there was RAF, Army and Naval intelligence, a meteorological man and an ROC representative.
These officers were responsible for up-to-date plotting on the map, of sea traffic, anti-aircraft guns, searchlights, the balloon barrage, air-raid warnings and the passage of all friendly aircraft. Just outside was a room called the Home Office. The Air Raid Warnings Officer, sitting inside on the balcony, passed on to this office all warnings that were then sent to every civil authority.
This, the only room where aircraft tracks over the whole of Britain and its approaches were displayed, contained more information per square foot than any other place. The C-in-C could glean an instant picture of the current situation.
Plotting was our main job, but we also assisted the officers around the balcony. Reports came via our headsets and were plotted on the map with magnetic rakes. Numbered counters were used: red for enemy, black for friendly. Estimated heights and strengths were shown with a coloured arrow indicating direction. The arrow matched a special clock with fiveminute coloured segments. Lost raids were noted within minutes; the colour remaining the same.
I joined this incredibly high-powered place in 1942 aged 19, which was an average age. The big city raids were over and hostile activity was slight. Gradually, however, activity increased and by 1943 we were plotting huge numbers of Allied bombers flying hundreds of sorties, paving the way for the invasion.
We all knew the D-Day assault would begin with the largest airborne operation in history. On the table at Bentley Priory the evidence was growing daily. Shipping convoys were piling up; all the signs were there and yet when it came, it seemed sudden and unexpected.
I put on my headset and with an inward resolve to ‘set to’, took over. Immediately, I was almost swamped by the rapidity of the plots, the teller hardly pausing for breath.
‘Stand by. South: ‘W’ for William, ‘R’ for Roger, fighter 365 30+. South East: ‘W’ for William, ‘X’ for X-Ray 1274, Bomber 652 600+.’
On and on it went for several hours, forming a nose-to-tail stream of more than 100 miles long. My concentration has never been as it was at that moment – dogged determination.
All night long through this corridor, 10,000 aircraft flowed. The sheer scale of it beggared belief. Wave after wave of bombers, fighters, paratroop transporters and glider-towing Dakotas were making for Normandy. Among them was a squadron over the Calais area dropping aluminium foil to fool enemy radar operators into thinking a vast invasion fleet was heading for Boulogne or Calais.
I did plot one or two German fighters over Northern France… the trail soon disappearing. Our air supremacy was total.
At 8am and somewhat euphoric it was time for breakfast and bed. And my goodness, the overwhelming tiredness that until then we had not really felt, took its toll. Radios and newspapers were informing the general public of the news we had helped to make. And the miracle was that it was all done in total secrecy. There had been no major break of security and the invasion plans had been kept.
By 1945, with the war in Europe over, the bunker had well served its purpose. This enormous 65ft-deep hole, which had been the repository of so many endeavours and so many secrets, was now redundant, the cost of maintaining it too great. All that remains are the heavy concrete doors on the site, with information boards and an explanation of what had taken place there.
The Priory has now become a splendid museum set in a magnificent location. It is a permanent memorial to Lord Dowding and to those who served with him; in particular, his ‘dear fighter boys’ – the ‘Few’.
Bentley Priory Museum: 020-8950 5526, www.bentleypriory.org
It was to become a night that I would never forget. The ops room was manned 24 hours a day by three watches: A, B and C. Tonight the 36 girls of C watch, of which I was one, were on duty. There was much excitement shown when we were looking at the roster to see what we were doing (it varied with each duty). I found I was working with another girl on 11 RDF (radio detection finding), the most vital part of the UK.
Bentley Priory is an historic mansion in extensive grounds on a hill above Stanmore. In 1936, it became the HQ of the newly created Fighter Command, with Air Chief Marshal Sir Hugh Dowding GCB, GCVO, CMG commanding. From here, following the declaration of war in 1939, he made some of the greatest contributions to victory. He believed radar to be the definitive defence system and the operations room its ultimate interpretation. He was proved right.
Bentley’s Operations Room was the only one in the UK with a centrally placed map showing the entire outline of the British Isles, the Channel, North Sea, northern Belgium, Holland and France. Fighter Command was divided into four fighter groups (No 11 Group covered the vital southeast of England), linked to radar and the Royal Observer Corps (ROC). The ops room was the hub, the crucial, decisive nerve centre of Fighter Command.
These officers were responsible for up-to-date plotting on the map, of sea traffic, anti-aircraft guns, searchlights, the balloon barrage, air-raid warnings and the passage of all friendly aircraft. Just outside was a room called the Home Office. The Air Raid Warnings Officer, sitting inside on the balcony, passed on to this office all warnings that were then sent to every civil authority.
This, the only room where aircraft tracks over the whole of Britain and its approaches were displayed, contained more information per square foot than any other place. The C-in-C could glean an instant picture of the current situation.
Plotting was our main job, but we also assisted the officers around the balcony. Reports came via our headsets and were plotted on the map with magnetic rakes. Numbered counters were used: red for enemy, black for friendly. Estimated heights and strengths were shown with a coloured arrow indicating direction. The arrow matched a special clock with fiveminute coloured segments. Lost raids were noted within minutes; the colour remaining the same.
I joined this incredibly high-powered place in 1942 aged 19, which was an average age. The big city raids were over and hostile activity was slight. Gradually, however, activity increased and by 1943 we were plotting huge numbers of Allied bombers flying hundreds of sorties, paving the way for the invasion.
We all knew the D-Day assault would begin with the largest airborne operation in history. On the table at Bentley Priory the evidence was growing daily. Shipping convoys were piling up; all the signs were there and yet when it came, it seemed sudden and unexpected.
I put on my headset and with an inward resolve to ‘set to’, took over. Immediately, I was almost swamped by the rapidity of the plots, the teller hardly pausing for breath.
‘Stand by. South: ‘W’ for William, ‘R’ for Roger, fighter 365 30+. South East: ‘W’ for William, ‘X’ for X-Ray 1274, Bomber 652 600+.’
On and on it went for several hours, forming a nose-to-tail stream of more than 100 miles long. My concentration has never been as it was at that moment – dogged determination.
All night long through this corridor, 10,000 aircraft flowed. The sheer scale of it beggared belief. Wave after wave of bombers, fighters, paratroop transporters and glider-towing Dakotas were making for Normandy. Among them was a squadron over the Calais area dropping aluminium foil to fool enemy radar operators into thinking a vast invasion fleet was heading for Boulogne or Calais.
At 8am and somewhat euphoric it was time for breakfast and bed. And my goodness, the overwhelming tiredness that until then we had not really felt, took its toll. Radios and newspapers were informing the general public of the news we had helped to make. And the miracle was that it was all done in total secrecy. There had been no major break of security and the invasion plans had been kept.
By 1945, with the war in Europe over, the bunker had well served its purpose. This enormous 65ft-deep hole, which had been the repository of so many endeavours and so many secrets, was now redundant, the cost of maintaining it too great. All that remains are the heavy concrete doors on the site, with information boards and an explanation of what had taken place there.
The Priory has now become a splendid museum set in a magnificent location. It is a permanent memorial to Lord Dowding and to those who served with him; in particular, his ‘dear fighter boys’ – the ‘Few’.
Bentley Priory Museum: 020-8950 5526, www.bentleypriory.org