The Codebreakers

by Alli Sinclair

  While researching the role of women in the second world war, I learned about the real-life Connie Jordan, who was the inspiration behind Sarah Jackson, Ellie’s boss at Qantas. Connie started out working as an engineer for the Flying Doctor Service in Charleville and Cloncurry and eventually moved on to working for Qantas. When the men discovered a woman would be in charge there was strife. Not only was Connie a qualified pilot, she was the first Australian female ground engineer. And she really did earn four musical degrees from London’s Trinity College, as well as being an accomplished ballet and ballroom dancer, and keen race car driver. What an amazing person!

  Connie’s story led me down the road of investigating Qantas’s history and it was fascinating to discover the level of involvement Australia’s national air carrier had in helping our nation in World War II and also the Royal Flying Doctor Service. In 1917 airman Clifford Peel had the foresight to suggest a medical air service to help those in the outback. He contacted Reverend John Flynn, who was working as a missionary servicing the spiritual, social and medical needs of remote communities. The Reverend loved Peel’s idea. Unfortunately Clifford Peel never got to see his dream come to life as he was killed in action in France in 1918. However, Reverend Flynn started a ten-year campaign to bring Clifford Peel’s brilliant idea to fruition, and eventually, the Flying Doctor Service was born. This led to the creation of the School of the Air in 1951, using the Flying Doctor’s two-way radios to educate and give children the opportunity to form friendships with others in remote regions. In 1958 Beth Garrett became the first female pilot for the Royal Flying Doctor Service and she paved the way for many more. It’s incredible to think that one young airman’s idea from over a century ago has transformed so many lives and is still doing so today.

  Discovering little-known facts is a historical author’s greatest joy, so when I found out about a secret US air base outside Charleville in outback Queensland, I knew this needed to be part of Ellie’s story. I was impressed by the genius of the armed forces when I discovered they had an airstrip covered in mulga branches when not in use and a fake airstrip miles away with cardboard and wooden planes to fool the enemy. But how on earth could an entire town keep secret about something so big? This question has caused a lot of conjecture between historians and present-day Charleville locals. Some say the Australian civilians contracted to work on the base signed silence agreements with the US government. Others say the entire township of Charleville was asked by the US government to keep the base secret. Either way, it’s a fascinating part of Australian and American history that still holds an air of mystery.

  One of the challenges with writing historical fiction is to ensure the characters and story capture the reader’s imagination, whilst remaining faithful to the era and facts. As is human nature, people’s memories fade, versions of events can differ depending on who is imparting the information, and facts can get lost in the passage of time. My research for The Codebreakers has connected me with signals experts, historians, former intelligence and signals officers, and, of course, the actual members of Central Bureau. I’m forever grateful for their time and expertise. In the odd instance where I haven’t been able to source information, sometimes because of its sensitivity or because records weren’t kept, have been lost, or my informants were unable to recall the exact unfolding of events, I’ve taken the liberty of imagining what may have happened. For example, there were many different TypeX machines used during the war and I have modelled the one the Garage Girls used on one of the few surviving machines in the world. I was lucky enough to study it in great detail in person at Bletchley Park. Our Garage Girls more than likely wouldn’t have known any details about Germany’s Enigma machine and the breakthroughs at Bletchley Park but I have included these to help my readers understand the processes of the organisations and how crucial intelligence breakthroughs were made as a result of the painstaking secret work that ultimately changed the fate of the war. The messages of love written in filler text on the TypeX messages between Lillian and Sam was inspired by real-life Garage Girl Coral Osborne and Corporal Sandy Hinds. They had a long and beautiful marriage that lasted for sixty-two years until Sandy sadly passed away in 2007.

  Having the opportunity to meet with real-life codebreakers and learn about their world, relive events through their eyes and walk in their footsteps has been an honour and I am forever grateful for each and every person who has taken time to share their stories and experiences.

  And I wish to thank you, dear reader, for reading The Codebreakers and helping their legacy live on.

  If you’d like to keep up to date with news, special insights into my research, giveaways and special offers, you can follow me on social media or sign up for my newsletter:

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  Best wishes,

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  Once again I am so very blessed to work with a wonderful group of people who love stories as much as I do.

  A huge thank you to the talented and magnificent team at Harlequin MIRA, especially my wonderful publisher, Rachael Donovan, who is a delight to work with and has brilliant vision for my stories. Endless thank yous to Annabel Blay and Laurie Ormond who have worked tirelessly to make this story shine and to Jo Mackay and Sue Brockhoff for being such wonderful supporters of my books. Thank you so much to the very talented cover designer Michelle Zaiter who captured Ellie so beautifully.

  To the fabulous publicity and marketing gurus, Sarana Behan and Eloise Plant, thank you so very much for all you do and making sure readers get to discover my books. A huge thank you to Johanna Baker for the dozens of balls you juggle every day. Endless thank yous to the sales team and all of the Harlequin staff for your hard work you do to make magic happen.

  Stories like this can’t happen without in-depth research and I’ve been so very fortunate to have had the help of an amazing group of people:

  The women and men of Central Bureau, FRUMEL and other signals intelligence departments and outposts who provided me with incredible insight and information about their lives during and after the war—Coral Hinds, Ailsa Hayle, Joy Grace, Joan Duffy, George McKinnon, Alan “Farmer” Norton, Jean Hillier, Reverend Robert Brown, James Daly, Patricia Treasure (nee Read), Norm Allen, Stan Clark OBE, Brian Walsh and John Dunstan. Thank you so much to the relatives of Central Bureau members who helped with information and stories—Sally Gibson, Peg and Robert Moore, Ross Gwyther, Annette Salmon, John Ward, Tracy Hardy, Ian Lording, Brendan and Ace Puttyfoot, Valerie Falconer, Pauline Stainstreet and Steve Hines.

  A huge thank you to Katy Denis and Bruce Goudge of Central Bureau Intelligence Corps Association for providing me with contacts and information that helped with my research to shape my characters and their stories.

  Thank you so much to the Government Communication Headquarters in the UK for allowing me to reproduce part of the original letter written by GCHQ Director Sir Iain Lobban, whose heartfelt words meant so much to so many. A very big thank you to the knowledgeable and friendly staff at Bletchley Park, UK, for showing me how TypeX machines work and giving me a wonderful tour and insight into wartime codebreakers for both Allied and Axis powers.

  Special thanks goes to Tom Harwood, Curator at the Qantas Founders Museum; Kate McGowan and team at the Royal Flying Doctor Service Charleville; Monique Johnson at Charleville Cosmos Centre; Ron Rees at the MacArthur Museum Brisbane; Peter Dunn OAM for being a wealth of information (www.ozatwar.com); and non-fiction author David Dufty for his help with contacts and his wonderful books The Secret Code-Breakers of Central Bureau and Radio Girl.

  Endless thank yous to John Mack and Peter Donovan from the School of Mathematics and Statistics at Sydney University for providing me with technical information on the history of signals intelligence. I am very grateful for permission from the Australian Signals Directorate to include ‘Their Strengt
h Lay in Silence’ quote in my book dedication as not only is it written on the commemorative plaque outside Nyrambla, the words beautifully sum up the incredible work of the members of Central Bureau and every person during the war who did highly-classified work.

  Thank you so much to author and pilot Helene Young for your help with Ellie learning to fly a plane.

  Hugs and thank yous to the gorgeous Belinda Alexandra for reading The Codebreakers before publication and giving such a beautiful quote. And endless thanks for your wonderful support and being on the long journey of this book with me!

  Of course, I need to thank my writing crew who think it is totally normal if I talk to myself or the characters in my head. Thank you to: Dave Sinclair, Di Curran, Ellie O’Neill, Eva Scott, Nicki Edwards, Delwyn Jenkins, Heidi Noroozy, Juliet Madison, Kerri Lane, Louise Ousby, Lisa Ireland, Supriya Savkoor, T.M. Clark and Vanessa Carnevale for brainstorming and cracking the whip when needed. And thank you to Imelda Evans for her disappointment mangoes!

  Thank you so much to all the booksellers, book bloggers, librarians, journalists and every reader who promotes authors and their books. On behalf of every author, I extend a huge thank you because without you, our stories would not be out in the world.

  A whole world of thank yous to my extended family and non-writing friends who don’t mind when I’m a little distracted with my characters and plotting. This journey is so much sweeter with your unwavering support. Special thanks to Mum, Dave and my beloved Dad and Nanna (missing you always) for encouraging me to follow my dreams.

  Thank you to my partner Garry, my gorgeous kids Bec and Nick: you are the sunshine in my life and your laughter the sparkle. Love you so very much!

  And a special thank you to you, dear reader, for choosing to immerse yourself in the world of The Codebreakers.

  CHAPTER

  1

  1994 —Ashton, Queensland

  Claire Montgomery sank against the cushions of the rattan chair on the verandah of the Queenslander guesthouse. Her legs were weary, but her heart was full after a long day filming. She gazed at the moon shining bright in the inky sky—the one constant in her hectic, nomadic life.

  Closing her eyes, Claire allowed the symphony of cicadas to lull her as she inhaled the magnificent scent of the myrtle nearby. Soon she could reward herself with a beach holiday in Bali—a stark contrast to her chaotic life in Melbourne. Not that she’d been in her hometown often since entering the film industry. These days, she spent a vast amount of time flying or driving, scouring the countryside for the perfect location for whatever TV show or movie she was working on at the time. One day, she’d move on to the role she’d dreamed about since she was a child—a documentary producer—although gaining this position had proved way harder than expected.

  Right now, though, she had to concentrate on the job she was employed to do and so the long days of negotiating and troubleshooting whizzed by in a blur. She cherished this rare moment to get her mind and body ready for another day of filming Little Cinema, Big Dreams, a TV mini-series set in the 1930s that dramatised the life of architect Amelia Elliott. Getting permission to film in one of Amelia’s renowned Art Deco cinemas had cemented Claire’s position as location manager for Wattle Films. She’d just been promoted from location assistant and it felt like she’d finally taken one huge step up the rickety ladder she’d been clinging to these past three years.

  She sipped her ice-cold glass of chardonnay. The taut muscles in her neck finally relaxed …

  ‘Claire!’

  She jerked forward. Wine sloshed out of her glass and onto the floorboards. Peering at the figure in the shadows, she spotted her long-time friend from film school, Phil Aitkens. He’d been living his dream of becoming a well-respected cameraman and she loved that they were working together on Little Cinema.

  Phil stood with his hands on his hips.

  ‘What is it?’ She put down the glass and rubbed her eye.

  ‘You need to get your butt down here. Now!’

  ‘Huh?’

  ‘Nigel’s on the warpath!’

  ‘What for?’ Claire grabbed her satchel and slung it across her body. So much for a night off. Clunking down the wooden stairs, she made her way to Phil. ‘What’s happened?’

  ‘You are never going to believe it.’ He took off and she had to rush to keep up. ‘Actually, you probably will.’

  ‘James has been boozing and started a fight?’

  ‘No, though it does have to do with our leading man.’

  ‘He’s been caught with his pants down?’ She laughed but stopped when she saw Phil’s serious expression. ‘Who with? And why is Nigel in on it?’

  ‘Given that Nigel is the director and James is the actor, Nigel gets to stick his nose in whenever he wants. Especially when James gets caught having sex with the cinema owner’s just-turned-eighteen-year-old daughter.’

  The tension that had slipped from her shoulders returned. ‘Oh no.’

  ‘Oh no, indeed.’

  Claire kept pace with Phil as they hurried towards the cinema. Even a block away she could hear a commotion of deep voices and a high-pitched female one, screeching indecipherably.

  As she drew closer, Claire noticed James slip away from the small cluster of mayhem. He disappeared into a dark laneway.

  Tony Karter, the location assistant, stepped in front of her. ‘Nice mess, Montgomery.’

  ‘It’ll be fixed.’ Claire went around him then stopped. ‘Perhaps you’d like to offer a solution?’

  Tony shrugged and it took all her willpower not to explode. Ever since she’d gotten the promotion over Tony, he’d had it in for her. Her job of location manager was hard enough without having someone like Tony trying to undermine her every move.

  Claire tried to shake off the negativity and approached Nigel, who clenched and unclenched his fists.

  ‘Montgomery, you need to sort this out. He’s threatening to pull out of the contract.’

  ‘The cinema owner?’

  ‘Who else do you think? You need to get him back on board.’ He paused and peered at her over his glasses. ‘I don’t need to tell you the significance of this, do I?’

  Her jaw tightened. Negotiating came naturally to Claire, which is why she was employed to do what she did. Already there’d been challenges along the way, like ensuring production staff didn’t damage property and all the right permits were in place with local municipalities. Though dealing with the irate father of a daughter who had succumbed to the charms of an international playboy was not an everyday affair—thankfully. ‘Where’s Robert?’

  Nigel cocked his head in the direction of the cinema owner, Robert Dennis, whose arms flailed as he yelled, ‘This is a disgrace!’ A few metres away his daughter, Annalise, sobbed in the arms of her mother. Camille Ford, the actress playing the role of Amelia, looked on, her expression one of helplessness. Tony sidled up to Camille and whispered in her ear. They both looked at Claire.

  Steeling herself, she approached Robert who now stared at his feet.

  ‘Robert,’ Claire said quietly. Clearing her throat, she said a little louder, ‘Robert.’

  He looked up, his face creased with anger. ‘I trusted you.’

  ‘I’m sorry, I—’

  ‘Save your apologies. It’s over. I want everyone off my property and out of Ashton by end of tomorrow.’

  ‘Robert, please—’

  ‘Forget it.’ The streetlights reflected in his eyes. ‘She is eighteen. Eighteen. What does she know about the world? How could he do that to her?’

  Since James had broken up with his fiancée six months ago, he hadn’t exactly led a clean and tidy life according to the tabloids. He’d left a trail of booze and women in his wake and his agent, and Nigel, had thought working in remote Queensland might have put James on the straight and narrow. So much for those grand plans.

  Robert rested his face in his hands.

  ‘Robert, I absolutely understand why you’d be upset—’

 
‘Don’t give me your understanding, just get the hell out of here.’ His expression was set hard, his eyes unblinking.

  She drew a long breath. This was the part of her job she dreaded. ‘I really don’t want to remind you about the contract you signed—’

  ‘I don’t give a damn about the contract! You broke that contract when you let my daughter be dazzled and seduced by that playboy!’

  ‘Mr Dennis, if we can just talk about this, find a way—’

  ‘I’m done talking.’ He turned and stormed past his wife and daughter. Annalise’s mother followed him into the cinema while Annalise stood outside, her eyes puffy.

  Claire turned to Annalise. ‘Are you okay?’

  ‘Everything’s been blown out of proportion,’ Annalise said.

  ‘Just give your dad time to cool off. Maybe he’ll—’

  ‘I’m done for,’ said Annalise. ‘Now he knows I’m not the virginal daughter he thought he had. And he walked in when …’ She gulped back a sob.