Audrie Gie - The Woman Who Listened to Germany’s Secret Messages During the Second World War

She Had No Idea What War Work to Choose - Then She Was Trained to Listen for German Messages

In 1942, Audrie Gie found herself at Bristol Temple Meads, trying to board a train that would take her towards Wrexham and the beginning of her wartime service.

There were so many young women saying their farewells that she couldn't get through the carriage doors. Eventually, a young man simply picked her up and lifted her through a window. It was a rather undignified beginning to what would become a remarkable wartime experience.

Audrie had been called up from Devon, but she had no particular idea what work she wanted to do. When asked, she suggested becoming a driver.

Instead, she found herself taking a series of tests covering subjects including mathematics, languages and Morse code.

She was eventually sent to Douglas on the Isle of Man, where she spent five months learning to recognise Morse code through headphones. The messages became progressively faster, and the women were tested regularly. Those who failed could be removed from the course.

After completing her training, Audrie was posted to Harrogate, where she signed the Official Secrets Act and began work at a secret wireless interception station.

She had become part of Britain's Y Service, a network of listening stations intercepting enemy radio communications. These stations supplied vital material to Britain's intelligence organisations, including the codebreakers at Bletchley Park.

Audrie's work involved sitting for hours wearing headphones, listening to German Morse transmissions and recording the messages in groups of five letters.

The shifts continued throughout the day and night. Getting to the station wasn't always straightforward either. Audrie remembered travelling across the Yorkshire moors in such poor weather that a man sometimes had to walk ahead of the lorry carrying a lamp.

On one occasion, the lorry even tipped into a ditch, although thankfully nobody was injured.

But one of Audrie's most memorable experiences came when the German radio group she was monitoring suddenly disappeared from its usual frequency.

She searched carefully through the wavelengths, listening for something familiar. Eventually, she recognised a transmission that sounded like the group she had been following.

The German operators had changed their frequencies and call signs. Audrie's discovery helped the other British listeners locate the transmissions again.

Her corporal was so pleased that he described her as his A+ operator.

When the war ended in 1945, Audrie was transferred to the Pay Corps in Leeds before eventually being demobilised.

What I find particularly interesting is what happened when she received her discharge papers. Despite all those months spent intercepting German communications, there was no mention of her secret work. Only her relatively short time in the Pay Corps appeared.

For years, much of the work carried out by women like Audrie remained unknown outside intelligence circles. We often hear about the remarkable achievements at Bletchley Park, but the people listening for those messages in the first place deserve to be remembered too.

Had you heard of Britain's secret Y Service before?

Image info:

A Women's Auxiliary Air Force (WAAF) wireless operator receiving a Morse code message during the Second World War. The woman pictured is not Audrie Gie, but the photograph illustrates the type of wartime work described in her story.

Image: Royal Air Force official photographer / Imperial War Museums, CH 7673. Public domain (expired Crown copyright), via Wikimedia Commons.

SHE BECAME QUEEN AT EIGHTEEN - AND FINALLY HAD A BEDROOM OF HER OWN

At six o'clock on the morning of the 20th of June 1837, Princess Victoria was woken up by her mother at Kensington Palace. The Archbishop of Canterbury and Lord Conyngham had arrived and wanted to see her. She was still wearing her dressing gown. Victoria went into her sitting room to meet the two men alone.

Her uncle, King William IV, had died at twelve minutes past two that morning. Victoria was eighteen years old, and she was now Queen. It was a huge responsibility, but it also brought with it a freedom she had wanted for years.
Victoria had grown up under the Kensington System, a strict arrangement imposed by her mother, the Duchess of Kent, and her adviser Sir John Conroy. She shared her mother's bedroom, was closely supervised. She was not even allowed to walk downstairs without holding someone's hand. She had happier moments with her dolls and her little dog Dash, but she increasingly resented the control that was being exercised over her.

Conroy had hoped that Victoria would inherit the throne before she reached the age of eighteen. That way her mother could have acted as regent, and in turn he could be close to the throne. But thankfully for Victoria she had celebrated her eighteenth birthday on the 24th of May, less than four weeks earlier. So she would rule without a regent.

One of her first acts as Queen was to have her bed moved out of her mother's bedroom.
We don’t know exactly how Victoria’s mother reacted when her daughter’s bed was moved, but she was certainly unhappy about losing her influence over her. Just a few weeks later, the courtier Charles Greville recorded that the Duchess of Kent was deeply upset by Victoria’s newfound independence. She reportedly felt that, after devoting eighteen years to raising her daughter, she was now being pushed aside and had little purpose left. I imagine it was a difficult change for the Duchess, who had been so accustomed to controlling Victoria. But for Victoria, having a bedroom of her own was a small freedom that meant an so much.

There were important decisions to make, too. That morning, Victoria met the Prime Minister, Lord Melbourne, alone. Later, she appeared before her Privy Council in the Red Saloon at Kensington Palace, dressed in black mourning for her uncle. Those who saw her were impressed by the composure of their young Queen.

In her diary, Victoria wrote of her determination to do her duty to the country.

Did you know how little freedom Victoria had before she became Queen?

Going forward we will be finding out more about Victorias first years as queen.

Image info:
Queen Victoria receiving news of her accession on the 20th of June 1837. Painting by Henry Tanworth Wells, 1887. Royal Collection. Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons.

AFTER YEARS AWAY AT WAR, SOME FATHERS CAME HOME TO CHILDREN WHO BARELY KNEW THEM

When the fighting in Europe ended in May 1945, thousands of British families were looking forward to welcoming their loved ones home. For some, the reunion came relatively quickly. Others would have to wait considerably longer, particularly those whose husbands, fathers and sons were still serving overseas.

But after years of separation, coming home wasn’t always as easy as people had hoped.

During the war, wives had been managing households, raising children and making important decisions without their husbands. Many had taken on responsibilities they had never expected, and both partners now had to adjust to living together again.

For some families, the greatest difficulty involved the children.

Some fathers had left when their children were babies, while others had never even met their youngest sons or daughters. Those children had grown up knowing their fathers through photographs, letters and stories told by their mothers.

One particularly moving example comes from John Craven, who later became a familiar face on British television.

His father, Bill Craven, had served with the Royal Army Ordnance Corps and was captured by Japanese forces following his posting to Singapore. He endured years as a prisoner of war, including forced labour on the Burma Railway.

When Bill finally returned home in 1945, John found that his father looked nothing like the man in the photographs he remembered. After years of captivity and terrible hardship, Bill was painfully thin.

John later recalled how relieved his father had been that his son accepted him. Bill had heard about other returning servicemen whose children had struggled to recognise or accept them after such a long separation.

And it wasn’t only the children who needed time to adjust.

Some returning servicemen were recovering from wounds, illness or years of captivity. Others had become so accustomed to military life that ordinary routines felt unfamiliar.

In October 1945, a British Army resettlement pamphlet called So You Want to Be a Civvy! Encouraged soldiers to prepare for civilian life, even referring to learning to walk rather than march.

Meanwhile, Britain was still dealing with food rationing, housing shortages and the enormous task of rebuilding after six years of war.

Of course, many families were delighted to be together again and gradually found a new routine that worked for them. But for others, adjusting was much harder, and not every relationship survived the changes brought about by the war.

What stays with me most is the thought of those young children meeting fathers they knew only from photographs, and the fathers who had spent years dreaming of coming home, only to find that their children hardly knew them.

Did anyone in your family ever talk about what it was like when a husband, father or brother finally came home after the Second World War?

☕ Have a cuppa and let’s discover history together!

Image info:

Bert Hardy, No. 9 Army Film and Photographic Unit. Imperial War Museums, SE 4837. Public domain, expired UK Crown copyright.

Sir Francis Drake Had Helped Defeat the Spanish Armada - But His Final Voyage Ended in Tragedy

In my last Tudor post, we followed the English Armada of 1589 and its disastrous attempt to strike another blow against Spain. Sir Francis Drake had helped command that expedition, and its failure damaged the reputation he had built through years of successful voyages.

Six years later, he had another opportunity. On the 28th of August 1595, Drake sailed from Plymouth alongside Sir John Hawkins, an experienced seaman he had known for decades. Earlier in their careers, both men had taken part in a voyage that carried enslaved Africans across the Atlantic, a part of their history that should not be forgotten.

This time, they were heading for the Caribbean, hoping to attack Spanish possessions and capture treasure. One of their main targets was San Juan in Puerto Rico, where a damaged Spanish treasure ship had taken refuge. Its valuable cargo had already been taken ashore for safekeeping.

By the time the English arrived in November, the Spanish were ready. Hawkins died before the assault on San Juan, leaving Drake to continue without his fellow commander. The English attempted to force their way into the harbour, but the Spanish defenders drove them back.

Drake continued the expedition along the northern coast of South America. His men captured Riohacha and burned the nearby settlement of Lancheria before moving on to Santa Marta, which they also attacked and burned.

The fleet then sailed to Nombre de Dios, in present-day Panama. Although the English took the town, much of the treasure they hoped to find had already been moved. Sir Thomas Baskerville led soldiers across the isthmus towards Panama City, but difficult terrain, dwindling supplies and Spanish resistance forced them to turn back.

Illness was spreading among the men, and Drake himself became seriously unwell. On the 28th of January 1596, he died of dysentery aboard the Defiance, off the coast of what is now Portobelo, Panama. He was buried at sea in a lead coffin the following day.

Drake’s name is so closely associated with England’s victory over the Spanish Armada that it’s easy to overlook the final years of his career. His last expedition had brought neither the great treasure nor the victory he had hoped for, and neither commander survived it.

I find it interesting that we remember so much about Drake’s earlier achievements, but hear comparatively little about how his career ended.

Had you heard about Sir Francis Drake’s final voyage, or is this part of his story new to you?

☕ Have a cuppa and let’s discover history together!

Image info:

Sir Francis Drake, 1591, by Marcus Gheeraerts the Younger. National Maritime Museum, Greenwich. Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons.

VE Day Had Come - But Why Weren’t They Home Yet?

On the 8^th of May 1945, crowds had gathered across Britain to celebrate VE Day. After nearly six years of war in Europe, the relief must have been huge. But many families were still waiting for their husbands, sons, brothers and fathers to come home.

 

For some, that was still months away. For others, it would be years.

 

I hadn’t realised quite how many servicemen were still needed after the fighting in Europe had ended. In June 1945, the British Army actually reached its wartime peak of around 3.1 million serving personnel, including both men and women.

 

There was still a war being fought against Japan, and British troops in Europe were taking on new responsibilities, including the occupation of Germany and helping to deal with the enormous destruction that was left behind.

 

Demobilisation began on the 18^th of June 1945, but bringing so many people back was never going to be straightforward.

 

Most were placed into groups according to their age and length of service. Those whose civilian jobs were particularly important to rebuilding Britain could sometimes be released earlier, but many just had to wait until their number came up.

 

Even former prisoners of war faced difficulties. Thousands were brought home after being liberated, but returning to Britain didn’t necessarily mean being discharged from the Army. In October 1945, questions were actually being raised in Parliament about men who had spent years in captivity and were now facing the possibility of being sent overseas again.

 

I can’t begin to imagine how those men and their families must have felt.

 

And although Japan surrendered in August 1945, British forces still had responsibilities around the world. Troops were needed in occupied Germany and across Britain’s overseas territories, while the enormous task of demobilisation continued.

 

Throughout 1946, men and women returned to civilian life, but the process was still continuing well into 1947.

 

It makes me think about VE Day a little differently. We remember the celebrations, the flags and the crowds filling the streets, and rightly so. But for many families, the joy of victory must have been mixed with the knowledge that someone they loved was still far from home.

 

And for them, perhaps the moment that mattered most wasn’t the announcement of victory, but the day their loved one finally came home.

 

Did your father, grandfather or another member of your family remain in the forces long after VE Day? I’d love to hear when they finally came home.

 

Have a cuppa and let’s discover history together.

 

 

 

Image info:

Demobilisation of the British Army, 1945. Photograph by Sergeant Bert Hardy, No. 5 Army Film and Photographic Unit. Imperial War Museums, BU 8067. Public domain.

 

 

William Built Two Castles to Hold York - But His Enemies Captured Them Both

William Built Two Castles to Hold York - But His Enemies Captured Them Both

In my last medieval post, we followed Edwin and Morcar as they challenged William the Conqueror in 1068. The two earls eventually submitted, and William continued north, building a castle at York to strengthen his control. But their surrender did not bring an end to resistance in northern England.

In January 1069, William’s newly appointed Earl of Northumbria, Robert de Comines, arrived at Durham with his soldiers. He had been warned about the hostility awaiting him, but went into the city anyway. Northumbrians rose against the newcomers, killing Robert and many of his men.

The trouble soon reached York. Edgar Ætheling, the young English prince who had been considered for the throne after Harold’s death, joined opponents of William’s rule, including Gospatric and Merleswein. The Norman commander William Malet was forced to seek help as rebels threatened the castle.

William marched north and drove the rebels away. Before leaving York, he ordered a second castle to be built across the River Ouse. With Norman soldiers stationed in both fortifications, he hoped to keep the city under control.

Later that year, however, an even greater threat appeared. A Danish fleet sent by King Sweyn II arrived in England and joined northern English forces. Edgar Ætheling, Gospatric and Waltheof were among those associated with the alliance, which advanced on York in September.

As the danger grew, Norman defenders set fire to buildings near the castles, fearing they could be used against them. The flames spread through York and engulfed St Peter’s Minster, the church that stood before the present cathedral.

The English and Danish forces overwhelmed the garrison. Both castles fell, and many Norman soldiers were killed. It was a remarkable victory, especially considering that William had defeated Harold at Hastings only three years earlier.

William returned north with another army. The Danish forces withdrew towards the Humber, allowing him to recover York. He also used payments to secure their withdrawal. Yet recovering the city was only the beginning of what followed. During the winter of 1069–1070, William’s campaign across the north would bring terrible suffering to its inhabitants.

I find it striking how quickly William had to return to York. Even his castles and their Norman garrisons had not been enough to keep the city securely under his control.

Do you think the English rebels had a genuine chance of driving William out once the Danish fleet arrived?

☕ Have a cuppa and let’s discover history together.

Image info:

York Castle in 1644, engraving by W. H. Toms after Francis Place. A later depiction of Clifford’s Tower, on the site of William the Conqueror’s original castle at York. Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons.

They Had Fled to Britain for Safety - Then Britain Sent Them to Australia as Prisoners

They Had Fled to Britain for Safety - Then Britain Sent Them to Australia as Prisoners

In my last Second World War post, we looked at Britain's decision to send prisoners of war and civilian internees overseas during the summer of 1940. With fears of a German invasion growing, the government wanted to reduce the number of people it considered a possible security risk.

We also discovered the terrible fate of the Arandora Star, which was torpedoed on the 2nd of July 1940 while carrying internees towards Canada.

But the overseas transfers continued, and just eight days later, another ship left Britain carrying thousands of men.

On the 10th of July 1940, HMT Dunera departed Liverpool bound for Australia. On board were 2,542 detainees, including German and Italian prisoners of war, civilian internees and even some survivors of the Arandora Star disaster.

But most of the passengers were not actually supporters of Germany's wartime government. Many were Jewish refugees who had escaped persecution in Germany and Austria, hoping to find safety in Britain.

But because of their nationality, they had been classified as enemy aliens and detained.

The conditions on board the Dunera were appalling. The ship was badly overcrowded, and it had inadequate washing and toilet facilities. The men were allowed very little time in the fresh air, and their treatment by some of the British guards was harsh.

Personal belongings, valuables and important documents were confiscated. Many of their items stolen or thrown overboard. Internees later described beatings, humiliation and verbal abuse.

For 57 days, the men had to live in these conditions, travelling thousands of miles across dangerous seas. The ship also faced the threat of German submarines.

The Dunera reached Melbourne on the 3rd of September 1940, where some of the detainees disembarked. The remaining passengers continued to Sydney, arriving on the 6th of September.

From there, many were taken by train to an internment camp at Hay, in New South Wales. Others were eventually held in camps in Australia.

Among those detained were musicians, scientists, artists, teachers and other highly educated men who had already lost so much when they fled their homes in Europe.

Within weeks of the ship leaving Britain, the government had begun changing its approach to civilian internment. By October 1940, it was already expressing its regret over the detention of most of the men sent on the Dunera.

I find it impossible to imagine what these poir refugees must have been feeling. They had managed remarkably to escape persecution. They had reached a country that they hoped would protect them, and then found themselves sent halfway around the world under armed guard.

Their experiences in the Australian camps are another huge part of this history, and that is where I want to take our story next.

☕ Have a cuppa and let's discover history together.

Image info:

HMT Dunera, 1940. Australian War Memorial, Naval Historical Collection, 303219. Public domain.