Right Man - Right Reason?

This is (yet another) story about the problems ‘Need to Know’ can cause. We start with an MI5 account of surveillance of a Soviet Intelligence officer, Pavel Kuznetsov, with the cover of a Second Secretary at the Soviet Embassy in London 

25.4.52.

KUZNETSOV left home with his boy at 8.35 am and went by 'bus to KPG.

He came out via the passage leading to York House Place at 10.20 am boarded a 31 'bus, immediately alighted, and jumped onto a 27 'bus travelling on it as far as Hammersmith.

In Hammersmith Broadway he alighted and got on a No 9 'bus heading for Mortlake. He stood on the platform while this 'bus crossed the Broadway and then ran forward to another No.9 'bus which had stopped just in front. Again he remained on the platform until the 'bus started off.

It would have been sheer folly to have attempted to board this bus so that we had to rely on taxis which, unfortunately, were not available.

A search was made at Mortlake and this being unsuccessful it was decided to travel to Richmond.

At 11.15 am KUZNETSOV was seen waiting at a 'bus stop in Richmond and he in fact boarded the very 'bus on which our assistants were travelling. He came aboard and sat not far away panting and breathing heavily, as though the shaking off of his pursuers was indeed most strenuous work.

He alighted at Marble Hill Park, Twickenham, sat reading his newspaper on a seat in this park from 11.30 am until noon and then walked back along the riverbank to Richmond.

After some window crawling and excursions into back streets he boarded a No 65 'bus, travelled to Kingston and arrived outside the Century-Elite Cinema at 1p.m.

When he moved away from the front of this cinema, after a stay of only a few moments, he was joined by a man ("D") and they entered the Normandie Restaurant (Bentalls).

At 2.25 pm they left the restaurant and walked through quiet back streets to Canbury Gardens, Kingston, where they positioned themselves on a seat in such a manner that they could see anyone approaching from any angle.

KUZNETSOV was observed making notes in a pocket book and the man "D" took from his inside coat pocket a large sheet of stiffish paper about 15" x 15" which he opened out on his knees. He then appeared to be drawing or explaining by hand movements details from this sheet. Occasionally KUZNETSOV would lean over and appeared to be asking for a fuller explanation following which his friend would again refer to this paper. On the rare occasions that a person passed by, "D" folded the paper and put it in his pocket.

They were in Canbury Gardens from 2.40 pm until 4.10 pm and separated the moment they left the gardens, without as much as a nod of the head.

Reluctantly we had to allow KUZNETSOV to proceed and concentrated our forces on the contact who walked back to Kingston, travelled by 85 'bus to Putney and thence by train to Earlesfield. He was finally housed at 36, Elborough Street, SW18 going in by key at 5.10 pm.

The demeanour of this man "D" changed completely during the afternoon. When he first met KUZNETSOV he was in a happy mood, apparently without a care in the world. During his sojourn on the park seat his face became more grave as time went by and when he parted from KUZNETSOV he was in a state of nervous tension.

When first seen the papers "D" was carrying could be seen jutting out from his inside pocket but after he had left KUZNETSOV they were not visible.

"D" is described as:

Looks 20-25. 5 ft 8 ins. Slight build. Oval face. Sallow complexion. Clean shaven. Small nose. Small chin. Dark brown straight hair, distinct parting on left going across crown of his head. Large feet, flat footed and walks with rolling motion.

Dressed in fawn belted gabardine raincoat, fawn suit with faint yellowish stripe, no hat, brown leather shoes, yellow socks.

Voters' list particulars for 36, Elborough Street, SW18 show:

MARSHALL William F.

MARSHALL Mary A.E.       

MORGAN Elizabeth. 

(KV 2/1636 s.2a 19520426)

William and Mary’s son, also William (though often Bill), wasn’t on the list because he worked elsewhere. Specifically, he was a radio operator for the Diplomatic Wireless Service (DWS). There was only one conceivable reason for his meeting a Soviet intelligence officer, but no evidence that he had committed a crime.

MI5 began a thorough investigation: within a couple of days they had full access to the salient details of his working life: after National Service in the Royal Corps of Signals where he was trained as a radio operator, he had joined the Diplomatic Wireless Service on 1 November 1948 and had been allocated accommodation at Bletchley Park where some of the wartime huts had been turned over to become a Ministry of Labour hostel for members of the DWS. He was posted to Egypt in July 1948, returning to the UK and to work in October 1949. In December 1950 he was posted to the British Embassy in Moscow, returning to the UK in December 1951.

On 30 April 1952, Gambier-Parry, the head of the DWS met representatives of MI5 and MI6 in the Foreign Office. He revealed that Marshall’s posting to Egypt had been to support SIS, whose wireless station had been moved from Cairo to Ismailia. Gambier-Parry was happy to accept that Marshall had been communicating with the Russians, but stressed that as a radio operator he would have had not access to the contents of classified messages, only to the cipher text. Marshall would have known about DWS comms procedural matter: callsigns, frequencies, schedules etc but Gambier-Parry was inclined to think that this information was particularly important. He also made clear that Marshall’s hostel was also used by the Post Office Training School and GCHQ trainees.

It was agreed that only a couple of DWS personnel would be made aware of what was going on, and that they would be looking to see when Marshall visited London to give MI5 the best possible chance to catch Marshall meeting Kusnetsov. Meanwhile MI5 would continue their investigations to establish what sort of motive Marshall might have had for becoming a Soviet agent (if that was what had happened).

In all of the paperwork discussing the means by which MI5 would investigate Marshall’s life there is an interesting paragraph about Bletchley Park:

The huts are situated in a small section of park land in front of a fairly large country house in Bletchley village itself. The park land is covered in huts of various patterns and grouped together in different formations. At present the GPO occupy the country house and various huts and buildings. Other huts are used by the Board of Education’s pupil teachers, the Ministry of Civil Aviation, the Ministry of Works and GCHQ trainees.

(KV 2/1636 s.29a 19520509)

It is clear that at this stage nobody involved in MI5 has any idea what Bletchley Park had been, or what GCHQ trainees were being trained in. This might well mean that those reporting had little idea what GCHQ actually did. (GCHQ continued to train its radio operators at Bletchley Park until the 1980s.)

A real insight into Marshall’s character came from a letter sent to George Carey Foster, Foreign Office Head of Security, by Lambert Titchener, Head of Chancery at the Moscow Embassy. He said:

I have very little substantive information to give you which will throw any light on his political leanings. Although he behaved very oddly throughout most  of his time here, and I will describe his behaviour in a  subsequent paragraph, it was not until the last day that an action of his, on reflection, would cause suspicions of the kind you appear to have in mind.

2. He was due to leave by the late train for Leningrad;  and had already been relieved of duty to finish his packing. He was missing most of the day, and it was not until 10 pm, by which time his absence was causing disquiet, that he returned  in a taxi from the town. He was asked where he had been, and  answered evasively that he had been making a few purchases. I did not attach much importance to this at the time, because  it was in keeping with the way he had behaved during most of his tour here.

...

4. Marshall was a perfect example of the type who should not be sent here. He was an introvert, antisocial to a degree I have never seen before. At staff cocktail parties he would be found in a corner behind a screen,if he turned up at all, or in some other obscure spot.He was most difficult to draw into conversation, and he had a meanness which it would be difficult to surpass. If asked to give a cigarette to a  colleague, he would ask for a cigarette back the following day.

...

6. So far as his work was concerned, it was not of a very high order, and adverse reports on it were sent back by Cole. Towards the end he apparently suffered from lapses of  memory.

...

7. All in all he was an unfortunate choice, but such grounds for suspicion as we had were concerned solely with his arrested mental development and his ability to stand up to the strain of work here.

(KV 2/1636 s.32a 19520513)

Meanwhile the War Office had sent information about Marshall’s military career. He had been called up in 1945 (after having spent some time as a trainee at a Merchant Navy Training Centre) and after training had been classified and remustered as Operator Special BIII, posted first to the War Office Wireless Service at Forest Moor’s detachment at Woodhouse and then joined 2 Wireless regiment in Palestine, where he stayed until leaving the Middle East in April 1948.

Later in May, Marshall met Kuznetsov again, and the Foreign Office started pressing  for the case to be brought to a conclusion as soon as possible. MI5 were in agreement, as by now they had greater insight into Marshall.  They had seen his employment file at DWS which said:

‘… that he exhibited considerable persistence in applying for a post with DWS. On 25th May 1948 he applied for a temporary post with DWS pending receipt of information concerning a Government Grant to enable him to attend Colwyn Bay Radio College. He stated he was familiar with DWS procedure, as he had been attached to the DWS link

at Fayid, MELF when serving as a signalman with GSI (8) in the Middle East. He was informed that he could not be taken on as a temporary employee. On 12th June 1948 he wrote stating that he had not been granted the Government allowance to enable him to attend the Radio College and was therefore applying for permanent employment with DWS. He was told that no vacancies existed. On 5th July he applied again saying that he would greatly appreciate it if his name could be placed on record and if he could be notified when a vacancy occurred. On 12th September 1948, without having been notified, he applied again and was told to submit the necessary forms. As a result of this application he was taken on.

…

On 22nd September 1950 MARSHALL wrote from the Middle East stating that he understood his overseas tour was about to be terminated, after one year and two months. He added that, as the normal tour was two years, he would appreciate it if he could be posted abroad again as soon as he returned to the UK for ten months, in order to complete his two year tour. He said that, as he understood Moscow postings lasted only ten months or a year, he would like to be considered for Moscow.’

(KV 2/1637 s.61a 19520603)

Marshall was arrested and charged under the Official Secrets Act on 14 June 1952. A list of new comms procedures to be used by the DWS had been left in a place to which he would have had access and was carrying these when he met Kuznetsov. Kuznetsov was also temporarily detained and searched (there was a diplomatic row subsequently) and denied knowing Marshall – which, as Marshall was carrying a diary detailing eight previous meetings as well as this one and the next, was not a particularly plausible lie.

The investigation continued: attention was drawn to the fact that Marshall had been friendly with a Russian woman employed by the Embassy, and a belief there that Marshall had spent his last day in Moscow with her. He was remembered on occasions as being impress by the Soviet regime and that towards the end of his time there, he used to take long solitary walks.

On 13 June 1952 Marshall made a statement.

I was born in London on 22nd December, 1927 and was brought up there and educated there till 1941.I then went to the Rotherhithe Nautical school which was then in Wales. I was there until December 1943 when I returned to London. I then went to the British School of Telegraphy, Clapham Road, Stockwell for just over a year. From February till November, 1945, I was unemployed, in which time I was trying to get away to sea. In November, 1945, I volunteered for the Royal Signals and served in England till May, 1947. I then served about six months in Palestine and five months in Egypt. During the time I was in Palestine and Egypt I did wireless intercepting and telegraphy. After demobilisation in April, 1948, I was unemployed till July, 1948, when I was given a government grant to continue studies in wireless telegraphy. I was three months at a wireless school at Earls Court. I do not remember the address. While I was in Fayid, Egypt, I first got to know that there was such a thing as a Diplomatic Wireless Service. I did some work on one of their circuits and got the idea that I would like to join the service on my return to civil life. I made several applications but heard nothing till Autumn 1948, when I was called for an interview.

...

Towards the end of December, 1950, I was offered a posting in Moscow because an operator there had fallen sick and I accepted forthwith because I was on my beam ends financially. The pay offered for Moscow was considerably higher than in England. I flew to Moscow arriving there on 31st December, 1950, and started work at the British Embassy. I was a misfit at the Embassy at Moscow from the start. The people there were not my class of people and I led a very solitary life. I kept to myself, spoke to as few people as possible, did my work as well as I could and just waited for the time to come home. I was disgusted with the pettiness of life at the Embassy. I began to take an interest in the Russian way of life. I was impressed by the efforts of the Russian people and by their ideals. They seemed to me to be trying to build a society which would allow the fullest scope for human endeavour although I think they still have a long way to go. 

...

Shortly after my return to England, I went to the Soviet Embassy in Kensington Palace Gardens to hand in a Russian pass which I had forgotten to hand in in Moscow. I saw there a man who introduced himself as Mr Paul Kuznetsov. He did not say what position he occupied. He told me that the pass was not Russian but British and suggested I return it to the Foreign Office. About a quarter of an hour's conversation followed and we found we had a good deal in common and we looked at life in a similar sort of way.

(KV 2/1638 s.97z 19520619)

I don’t think this is a case that need detain us further: Marshall was tried, found guilty, and sentenced to five years’ imprisonment, and after being sentenced Marshall refused to talk to MI5. Whether he had been recruited in Moscow or on his return to London was something chewed over, but given Marshall’s refusal to talk, precise details were never uncovered. The case was remembered as the first in which a Soviet agent had been uncovered because of detailed surveillance of the activities of a Soviet intelligence officer.

Many of you, however, will have worked out by now that there was a line of enquiry, that was never pursued, and that happened because nobody dealing with the nitty-gritty detail of the case would have known that there was a Sigint angle, and none of those at the top of MI5 who would have noticed it would have seen more than summaries of the case.

Marshall’s army career was spent first in learning how to be a Sigint operator and then being posted to 2 Wireless Regiment at Sarafand in Palestine, the principal War Office Sigint station in the Near East since the end of the First World War. It was after this posting (which included some time in Egypt where he became acquainted with the work of the DWS).

I don’t think that it would have made a significant difference to this case, but it exposes the fact that a serious investigation into an Official Secrets Act case was blind to a potentially important piece of information. GCHQ’s only involvement in the case was to request the suppression of details of how the Soviets might use the information Marshall was about to hand over as it might reveal techniques used by GCHQ. Though not part of the case, it was also revealed early in the investigation that GCHQ occasionally monitored DWS communications to advise on their security.

Dilly Knox once famously asked: ‘How do I know whether I need to know something if I don’t know what it is?’ and I have never seen a good answer to the question. Excessive secrecy can be as bad as poor security. And what might most MI5 staff have missed during most of the Cold War because of a lack of any understanding of Sigint (just as nearly all GCHQ employees were ignorant of what MI5 did). Need-to-Know is a double-edged sword which often seems to have one very blunt edge.

 

More Detail on Cairncross at Bletchley Park

Last week saw a major release to The National Archives of MI5 files, mainly concerning ‘The Cambridge Five’ or at least the three of them, Philby, Blunt and Cairncross, whom MI5 had the opportunity to investigate (Burgess and Maclean having skipped the jurisdiction).

I’ve obviously not been able to go through this new material in any detail, but I have looked at the parts of the Cairncross files which shed light on his time at Bletchley Park.

I covered some of this three years ago in Sigint Historian: Personnel Security at Bletchley Park - Part Two

There is some interesting new (to me) detail. Cairncross had been encouraged by his controller to join GC&S or SIS. When he first identified to MI5 the battle in which the Ultra material he had passed to his controller had given the Red Army a decisive advantage over the Germans he claimed it was the Battle of Kharkov (Kharkiv, of course, today), not Kursk. Interviewed in 1967, Peter Wright asked him whether he could remember anybody at Bletchley who might have been pro-Russian: his answer was that everybody at BP was pro-Russian because of the events of the war, but he named three people Hugo Gatti, Philip Pounsey and Douglas Parmier, but these are likely simply to be three names plucked out of the air. (None appear on the Bletchley Park Roll of Honour.)

Edit: I stand corrected. Hugh Gatty, Philip Pouncey and Douglas Parmeé are all on the BP Roll of Honour.

More insidiously, he said that his Soviet controller had once asked him why a former FO colleague, Roddy Greiffenhagen, had transferred to GC&CS, and whether this move would hit Greiffenhagen financially. After some investigation, MI5 discovered that Greiffenhagen was eased out of the FO ‘because of his total inability to do the work required’, and concluded that Cairncross was likely to have passed biographical details of other FO colleagues to the Soviets as well. He admitted to having passed a couple of pen pictures of GC&CS colleagues to his controller, but couldn’t remember who they were. This part of the release leaves a question mark over Greiffenhagen’s reputation: it’s a bit unfair, as there was no doubt an investigation subsequently: one, potentially, for a future release.

Cairncross said that his controller was annoyed when he engineered a transfer for himself from BP to SIS Section V at Ryder St to work on counter espionage (a section to which GC&CS deployed several members of staff as it began to resume its work on Soviet targets), the annoyance, he claimed, being because of the quality of the material he was passing from Hut 3. I wonder whether the presence there already of Kim Philby might have been a better reason for the controller’s annoyance.

There is a curious tale of Cairncross at Ryder St pestering somebody (whose name is redacted) at Berkeley St (where GC&CS diplomatic traffic was worked) to get information about a breakthrough made by Berkeley St. The unnamed person said that he had probably been indiscreet at the time, but reflecting on matters in 1967, thought that as Philby was handling this material, his indiscretions were probably not that relevant.

There is an amusing 1955 account by Henry Dryden (a Second World War Siginter who stayed on after the war). In the spring of 1949 Cairncross phoned Dryden at GCHQ, then at Eastcote, inviting him to lunch, and over the soup course asked whether GCHQ was a successful with Soviet encryption as it had been with German. Dryden ‘mumbled some sort of non-committal reply, bringing in the phrase “one-time pad” and tried to give the impression that one could not do anything to make progress’. This story, at least, is already in the public domain, having been told by Dryden in 1993, in a postscript to his contribution to Hinsley and Stripp’s Codebreakers.

There may well be more details in these files, and I’m sure there will certainly be in other files in the release, but three things stand out to me. The first is something I have mentioned before: how little the MI5 investigators knew of (never mind understood) how Sigint worked and their consequently appearing to deal with it as not as key an issue as were some others. The second, is that my judgement of three years ago, that of course it was likely there were other Soviet sympathisers at Bletchley, but that they were unlikely to have been able to pass on many great secrets, hasn’t changed, not least because of the third: that only if somebody had access to Bletchley’s serialised reported intelligence would it be possible to pass intelligible information to a hostile intelligence service.

Where in the System should Comsec Belong?

I have written before about the parlous state of cryptography – communications security – before the Second World War, and until the point late in 1941 when Sir Edward Bridges, the Cabinet Secretary, began to interest himself in the subject. In January 1944 the Prime Minister accepted a proposal from the Chiefs of Staff Committee. It agreed that: 

1. A controlling authority should be established with responsibility for:

(a) Policy regarding the security of British encryption systems, including decisions on any new encryption devices and on any safeguards which might be necessary in their use.

(b) Ensuring due supervision of encryption by the Services and by Government Departments.

2. The Controlling authority should be known as the Cypher Policy Board (CPB), and its decisions should be regarded as having ministerial approval. It should consist of:

(a) The Director General of the Government Code and Cypher School ('C') – Chair

(b) A representative appointed by the Chiefs of Staff Committee

(c) The Cabinet Secretary.

3.  A new section of GC&CS should be established to deal with the security of British encryption (and of Allied systems in so far as British commands were concerned). This section would have as its head an Assistant Director of GC&CS known as CSA (Communications Security Adviser) who would also act as Secretary of the CPB and Chair of the existing JIC Cypher Security Committee would now be responsible to the CPB.

(Not included in this plan was 'wireless security'. MI5 was responsible for ensuring that the only people transmitting were those authorised to do so, and for monitoring their use of transmitting equipment; and for ensuring that the physical security of transmitters was maintained. It carried out those responsibilities without reference to GC&CS: indeed, for practical purposes their main direct relationship during the Second World War was in connection with the encryption systems used by German agents. The transfer of the Radio Security Service (RSS) to GCHQ after the war would eventually lead to an increased collaboration between GCHQ and MI5 on the intercept of illicit transmissions, but that is another story.)

This structure paralleled the structure for oversight and management of Sigint: a board of stakeholders (CPB for Comsec, LSIB for Sigint) oversaw the tasking and budget for the two parts of GCHQ, leaving Director GCHQ and CSA to operate within the framework they were assigned.

The structure for Comsec was maintained for some years but the services were unhappy about the pace of development of new encryption machines, and felt that the proliferation of committees (for example the Services Cypher Policy Committee, the Speech Secrecy Panel, the Cypher Machine Development Panel) was pulling the CPB away from its original terms of reference. The matter was formally discussed at a meeting of the Cypher Policy Board in October 1952. Sir Edward Bridges gave his opinion that it was inappropriate that a Sigint organisation – GCHQ – should be responsible for cryptographic policy. A review of the CPB was commissioned which eventually concluded that a different agency, independent of GCHQ, and to be known initially as the London Communications Security Agency, should be responsible for Comsec, under the oversight of a new London Communications Security Board. The Board was chaired by 'C' initially, and the Heads of the Signals and Intelligence Divisions of each of the Service ministries, as well as representatives of the Foreign Office and GCHQ, were members. From 1956 the Foreign Office nominated a Chairman (Pat Dean) common to the JIC, LSIB and LCSA. 'C' remained on the Board, and for the first time the Director General of MI5 (Sir Roger Hollis) was invited to be a member.

A new Director LCSA, Captain Stannard, was appointed in November 1957 and the LCSB Chair wrote a letter to Hollis in which he referred to a decision taken by the PUS of the Foreign Office, the Joint Permanent Secretary to the Treasury, and the Chiefs of Staff (to whom collectively the LCSB was responsible) that Director LCSA should be responsible under the general direction of the Director-General of the Security Service for day-to-day decisions on behalf of the LCSB. This would entail an amendment to the terms of reference of the Director LCSA who wrote a paper outlining the role of the LCSA and its relationship to DG MI5 and Director GCHQ.

These can be summarised as:

(a) Transmission Security: LCSA should advise on the transmission security of all communications and non-communications equipments and techniques and agree with the authorities concerned on the principles of protection.

(b) Cryptographic Security: LCSA should, in addition to its current work on the protection of communications against cryptanalysis, advise on the means of cryptographic security protection in all new forms of communications and develop the appropriate security techniques and equipments required.

(c) Requirements for Communications Electronics Security Equipment: LCSA should be responsible for:

(i) Evaluation and determination of requirements

(ii) Development of appropriate security techniques

(iii) Coordination of research, development, and production to meet new requirements.

(d) Consultation with the Security Service

The provision of advice on all aspects of Transmission and Cryptographic security should be the joint responsibility of the Security Service and LCSA. The former should advise on personal, documentary and other physical security measures to protect the equipment and related information, whilst the latter should advise on measures to protect the transmissions. LCSA should provide the Security Service with the technical guidance which it might require in this connection and incorporate Security Service advice in the communications-electronics measures which it recommended.

(In fact it proved impossible to define exactly the respective responsibilities of LCSA and the Security Service, and agreement on the advice to be given depended on the close personal relationships (which always existed) between the contact officers of the two departments.)

From these conclusions the new terms of reference were framed, and these included the following:

'The LCSA will be under the charge of a Director who, under the general direction of the Director General Security Service, will be responsible for day to day decisions on behalf of the LCSB … The Director LCSA will:

(a) consult Director General Security Service on all matters concerning general security policy

(b) consult Director Government Communications Headquarters on all appropriate aspects of

communications-electronics security and ensure that his advice and assessments are fully taken

into account.'

However sound all this may have been in theory, it had two serious weaknesses. First, DG MI5 had no understanding of communications, which largely determined Comsec policy; and second, the UK's Comsec release policy (ie which systems could be released to which foreign nations) was governed by Intelligence interests which were not the responsibility of DG MI5.

The LCSB approved the new terms of reference. However, in discussion it became clear that while 'Communications Electronics Security' meant the security of communications and non-communications transmissions, Hollis thought that it was simply some sort of elegant variation on 'Electronic Communications'.

Stannard also tried to change the status of the LCSB from Ministry of Defence Committee to Cabinet Committee. This proposal took the lid off a can of worms: LCSB (like LSIB) were each subordinate to Official Committee on Communications-Electronics which was set up in 1958. The terms of reference of neither the LCSB nor the LSIB referred to this supervision because they were in existed before the Official Committee had been established. Dean pointed out, however, that a proposal to transfer the LCSB from the Defence List to the Cabinet List might give rise to a review of the status of LCSA The Director LCSA was under the general direction of DG MI5 but his salary was paid by the Foreign Office. The arrangements for paying the staff of the Agency were complicated because they were those used for paying GCHQ staff and were hidden in the budgets of five other ministries. LSIB, in a closely related position to LSIC's was, for security reason, not listed as either a Cabinet or a Defence Committee. It was agreed at the meeting that no action would be taken, but that Dean would mention the anomaly of the Board's present status to the Cabinet Secretary and make sure that the service Chiefs were aware of the increasing civil functions of the Board and Agency. The Ministerial responsibility for the Agency was also discussed. This matter had not been covered when the terms of reference were drafted which placed the Director LCSA under the general direction of DG MI5. It was agreed at the meeting that it was important to make it clear whether the Home Secretary or the Foreign Secretary should be answerable to Parliament for the Agency. Dean suggested that representatives of the Security Service, LCSA, the Security Department of the Foreign Office, and GCHQ should meet and submit recommendations. In spite of lengthy discussions no change was either suggested or made in the Ministerial responsibility for LCSA: the lid was put back on the can before any of the worms could escape. It seems clear that the decision to alter the status of the Director LCSA was made hastily and without any detailed examination of the implications.

In April 1965 there was a radical change in the organisation when LCSA, SCDU (Services Communications Development Unit), and JSRU (Joint Speech Research Unit) were integrated into one department. Up till this time, although LCSA exercised operational control of SCDU and JSRU, they were administered by the GPO. This division of responsibility had never been a very satisfactory arrangement and, following an interdepartmental enquiry in 1964, LCSA took over full control of both units. It was also decided that a new title was needed to show that a new organisation was coming into being. In a letter to Burrows, the LCSB Chair, copied to DG MI5 and Director GCHQ, Stannard suggested "Government Communications-Electronics Security Agency", pointing out that the existing title had on occasions given the impression of a commercial concern and was unlikely to appeal to those who had worked for such a well-known department as the GPO. He did not propose that the title of the Board should be changed, since it was well-known and fitted in with that of its signal intelligence counterpart. Hollis did not like the proposed title, first because it was too close to GCHQ, and GCB, both of which were already in use, second because LCSA's responsibility extended beyond Government communications, and third because he did not think the organisation was an agency. He suggested 'Electronic Communications Security Department' (he still didn't understand the meaning of the order of the words). Hooper, Director GCHQ, commenting on both Stannard's and Hollis's letters, pointed out that communications electronics security was correct, because electronics security referred to non-communications transmissions and suggested that if it was the word 'agency' which implied a commercial status, then 'Communications Electronics Security Department', with the abbreviation CSD would be appropriate. Stannard wrote to Sir Bernard Burrows accepting this, but proposed the short title CESD. Hollis objected to 'communications security' as being too wide and doubted the responsibility for 'electronics security'. Burrows, however, agreed with Hooper's proposal as amended by Stannard, and this was accordingly submitted for acceptance by the Board.

From this point on, the influence of DG MI5 in CESD affairs waned rapidly. Like LCSA before it, CESD administration services were provided by GCHQ; its London Headquarters were in GCHQ's Palmer St building; its cryptographic services were underpinned by mathematicians from GCHQ; and the JSRU technical staff now joining CESD were members of the Royal Navy Scientific Service attached to GCHQ. It was too small to stand alone, and in 1969 it returned to GCHQ, though with a conscious and generally accepted autonomy within the organisation.

Putting its direction under MI5 was a mistake: Comsec had to be linked in policy terms to its opposite, Sigint, rather than to its complement, physical security. Comsec policy must take account of Sigint policy; whereas physical security policy has little bearing on the matter at all. This doesn't mean Comsec and physical security are not closely connected, particularly at the practical level, and it doesn't mean that the Comsec should be subordinated to Sigint, even if both are part of the same organisation: that was why there were separate oversight boards – LSIB and LCSB – for the two disciplines.

Sir Edward Bridges had been correct in identifying the cause of the weakness of British cryptography in 1941 as the lack of attention which the primarily Sigint organisation had devoted to Comsec between the wars, and was right to be suspicious that service complaints about the slow pace of development of new cryptographic equipment in the postwar period might be used to GCHQ not giving enough priority, but the solution was better informed and detailed oversight by the Sigint and Comsec Boards, not organisational change. Bridges retired in 1956, and it is not hard to imagine that Stannard's proposal that Hollis should become his boss was as much a search for somebody to protect him from Director GCHQ as for a more coherent structure for Comsec.

An Old Friend in Unfamiliar Company

 

If this blog has a tutelary deity, I suppose it is Frank Birch. He was Historian of Room 40 after the First World War, and, after being Head of the Naval Section (HNS) at Bletchley Park, became the Historian of British Sigint in the Second World War. He and I share the distinction of being the only in-house historians of British Sigint to have entries in the IMDB, though with 48 credits as an actor and one as a director, I think it is fair to say that his is a more prolific record than mine; and the IMDB doesn't record his successes on the inter-war stage, particularly his renowned Widow Twankey. He was a Fellow of King's College and a lecturer in history at Cambridge University, and sufficiently interested in racehorses to publish an account of racehorse pedigrees in 1926.

Penelope Knox is quoted in Birch's DNB entry describing him as a 'a many-sided human being—a rather dull historian, an acceptable drinking companion, a mysterious private personality, a brilliant talker and a born actor'. This is a very rare description of Birch as a rounded person. For Siginters, he is HNS and Head of the Historical Section, the man who didn't want 'Music While You Work' played in his building; for historians of the cinema, he is a bit-part player in a few dozen minor British films; for genealogists he is the husband of the Hon Vera Benedicta Gage, daughter of the fifth Viscount Gage.

So it comes as a major surprise to find him appearing in files released by MI5, and, what's more, not as just a name, but playing a minor part (ironically, just as in his film career) in the story of the Cambridge Five.  From interviews with Floral Solomon (KV 2/4634-5) MI5 learned that Birch had been living with Aileen Furse for a while before the war. On 4 September 1939, at Aileen's behest, Mrs Solomon invited Birch to a lunch she was hosting in order to introduce him to Kim Philby, who wanted to work in intelligence. (According to Mrs Solomon, Birch appeared to have been quite open about his work in Room 40.) At that point Philby was working for The Times. According to a 1971 summary of the Solomon case "Afterwards BIRCH saw PHILBY alone and thought him quite suitable for intelligence work but thought he had too good a job at the time for him to try to recruit him".

Was this a polite put-down? It's tempting to think that Birch would think that being a journalist was inferior to being an intelligence officer in GC&CS, but 'Times Correspondent with the BEF' was an impressive job description, and given that little relevant material was being produced at Bletchley at the start of the war, it may well be that Birch was giving an honest opinion.

What difference might it have made if Philby had, in fact, been recruited to Bletchley Park? My guess is very little: he would have learned little of any practical value to the Soviet Union – certainly no more than Cairncross got access to a couple of years later (as I recounted here), and like Cairncross, would have pressed for a move to London to get a job of more value to his controllers. Any competent Soviet Sigint official would have been able to infer British capabilities from the material it was producing, and a job in London where processed Sigint reporting was crossing his desk along with other intelligence material and assessment of its value would have been more valuable.

As for Birch: it looks as though nobody thought he was other than an innocent in this matter. Aileen left him for Philby, eventually becoming the second Mrs Philby and mother of his five children.

Another couple of GCHQ names appear in another of the recently released files. Before an interview with Lord and Lady Rothschild (reported in KV 2/4632) Peter Wright was asked to ask them about Gerry Morgan (who had been a member of the Cambridge University Socialist Society in the later twenties and early thirties) and Barbara Duckworth Maclean (who was a contemporary of Lady Rothschild at Newnham College, and had been on the 'Aid to Spain' Committee). They weren't known to the Rothschilds, and I imagine this was simply an attempt to check whether anybody who had been a bit pink at Cambridge might have developed into something more ideologically sinister.

With the exception of some of GCHQ's Directors and a very small number of Bletchley veterans, most of the hundred thousand or so British Siginters since 1914 are just names, possibly with a very small amount of information attached about where they worked. What really is strange is to meet them in such an unfamiliar context.

 

Visas, Passports, Nationality ...

This post has nothing to do with Sigint history, but arises from a discussion a few of us were having about nationality on Twitter. We had established that there is no right for a British citizen to a passport, nor for a foreign national to a visa to entry the UK. We also discussed the consequences of the Naturalization Act 1870 by which women, on marriage, took on the nationality of their husband 

Looking at documents dating from the 30s and 40s, what strikes me is the fact that decisions are taken by relatively junior members of staff, in a haphazard or arbitrary manner. For example, this report is from the Security Control Officer at Shoreham Airport, and is dated 4 November 1939:

'The below mentioned Alien arrived at this Control 4/11/39 by KLM plane from Amsterdam.

SALZMANN, Paul Von             Nationality: German Jew

Passport No 1296, issued 18/4/39 London

Visa No 10806, issued 2/11/39 Copenhagen

Born 21/8/18 at Berlin

Address 26 Nottingham Place, London W1

Salzmann arrived in UK July 1933 and studied at several places, the last being the South Western Agriculture College, Wye. He left England 26 June 1939 for Denmark for a holiday and there expected to join his parents who were coming from Germany. The parents were unable to leave Germany and Salzmann was told by the Danish police to leave Denmark. He stated that he had come here because he does not want to be sent to Germany. He was refused permission to land as he has no money.' (KV 2/914)

There is a lot to unpack here. A 21 year old German, resident in the UK for several years since he was 14 years old had gone to Denmark and was stranded there by the outbreak of war. The Passport Control Officer in Copenhagen (acting as PCO and not as the Head of the SIS Station) granted him a visa without reference to London as Salzmann was a "returning resident". (Ironically his father, who had left the UK precipitously early in August 1939 was a German spy but that's not the point at issue here.) He was met by his sister, who worked at the Japanese Embassy in London and who said that she would provide for him, but the Security Control Officer took it upon himself to refuse entry to the UK and had him placed on a KLM plane to Amsterdam the next day, in spite of Salzmann's claiming accurately to be half Jewish (though his passport had no prominent "J") and was of an age to join the German Armed Forces if returned to Germany.

His sister, Elsbeth, was by now Mrs MacQueen. She had married a British Subject, and had acquired British nationality and a British passport. She would be interned in 1940 (quite properly) but at this stage looked to be somebody whose husband had left her, and whose parents had left the country, and who was working to keep body and soul together.

She had applied for Naturalisation two years earlier, and the Home Office file contains a minute dated 15 November 1937, in which the official dealing with the query suggests not allowing the application yet, even though she was eligible.

'According to Central Register particulars, Miss Salzmann arrived here in July 1930. She was 21 years old last June and desires to apply for naturalisation. She is a student at London University.

Her parents came to this country a few months before she did, the father being a German.

Both on the grounds that there is no reason to make this girl of a different nationality from her parents and because of her "student" status, I think she should be discouraged from applying although she is in fact eligible by residence to do so and there appear to be no "conditions" attached to her residence.

? Say that on the information before him the Secretary of State would not be prepared to naturalise her and therefore advises that she defers an application for a certificate of naturalisation until, if she remains in this country, her studies are completed.'

The "?" is the official's recommendation and so was subject to internal Home Office discussion, if it hadn't been accepted by all. From a 2022 perspective, it is unthinkable that the application of somebody eligible could be turned down on what looks like a whim.

Gustav Lachmann was a German aeronautical engineer working for Handley Page. He had married an English widow in Japan. In such a sensitive position he had been subject to MI5 enquiries:

'His wife is registered: LACHMANN, Evelyn Wyatt, German, formerly British, born 13/11/97 in Kobe. Former name HAIGH, British, changed to Lachmann, German, by marriage on 29/12/26 in Tokyo. Was GILL, British, by parentage, though born in Japan, father British. Changed to HAIGH, British, by marriage on 19/11/17 in Tokyo. Husband, William, died in September 1923 in Japan. Arrived in the UK 11/11/29 from 10/17 Fukuyoshi Chi, Akaoka, Tokyo. Holds German passport 401 issued 29/12/26 in Tokyo, and registration Certificate 420043 issued 10/1/30 by Bow Street, Serial EZ.172066.' (KV 2/2733 7 February 1930)

This says everything you need to know about the effect on her nationality of a woman marrying a foreigner.

He was in interned on 3 September 1939. Superintendent Herbert Simmons of the East Sussex Constabulary reported:

'… in consequence of instructions from the Special Branch, Metropolitan Police … I arrived at Heydown Farm, Heathfield, where I saw Lachmann, who I immediately arrested.

He was staying at the Farm in company with his wife, two-step-daughters and a maid. He told me that he had arrived there on the 1st September 1939 … Arrangements were made by Lachmann for his family to remain at "Heydown Farm".' (KV 2/2734 3 September 1939)

His wife and children weren't on any list so they were allowed to continue living their normal lives. Lachmann was interned until late in the war, but resumed – in fact never left – employment with Handley Page and on 24 February 1949 obtained a Certificate of Naturalisation, which meant that his wife therefore becomes British by marriage: but not his children. At least one had to apply for naturalisation (KV 2/2735):

'Application for a certificate of naturalisation referred to MI5 by Home Office.

Name: Evelyn Leopldine Lachmann

Address: 49 Weymouth Street, London SW1

Occupation: Radiographer MSR

DOB: 6 December 1927

POB: Tokyo, Japan

Nationality: German'

 Finally, an item from Guy Liddell's diaries (KV 4/185 15 October 1939): a sad story. It might need a trigger warning, as the attitudes underlying the piece are deeply of their time (as is the archness of its language). But equally important, and, I suggest, as deeply of its time, is the Legal Adviser's concern that a young woman is about to do something catastrophically dangerous to herself, and must be stopped.

'A fine legal point has arisen on the application by Miss Phyllis Dalrymple for a permit to travel to Yugoslavia where she intends to marry a German, Alois Brasch, and return with him to his native town of Gratz. This matter was submitted to the Legal Section who replied in the following terms:

 "It is abundantly true that for the purposes of the Trading with the Enemy Act a person shall be deemed to have traded with the enemy:  'if he (and by the blessed Interpretation Act 1889 words importing the masculine gender shall include females) has had any commercial, financial or other intercourse with, or for the benefit of an enemy.' It may be assumed, I fancy, that Miss Dalrymple is intending to have intercourse with an enemy. That in all conscience should be enough. We need not delve into the difficult problem as to whether it would be for the benefit of the particular enemy, who may indeed be pathetically unfit, that Miss Dalrymple should have intercourse with him. Speculation would not be uninteresting on the basis of the particulars supplied on Form P. in respect of the Irish birth, hazel eyes, and dark blonde hair of the young lady, but let it pass! No man who cared anything for the melody of words will be pleased by the name of the individual to whose address Miss Dalrymple desires to proceed, see form P. para 8. A terrifying aspect of this proposed course of conduct is that it may indeed be perilously near to High Treason. I will find out tomorrow. Meanwhile she should not be allowed to leave."'

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Oh là là! A French Farce in the Records of British Intelligence

 

An entry in Guy Liddell's diary for 1 January 1941 (KV 4/187) might lead one to the conclusion that old fashioned farces were not quite as far fetched as I used to think when watching Brian Rix.

Admiral Emile Muselier was in London, attached to General de Gaulle's Headquarters as Commander of Free French Naval Forces. Forged letters suggested he was in secret dealing with the Vichy regime and on New Year's Eve 1940, The Prime Minister, Winston Churchill, ordered his arrest. What happened, or at least the way Liddell told the story of what happened, probably confirmed in a generation of intelligence officers some of the prejudices they had inherited about the French.

"We have now obtained 3 more letters from Collin who says that he has obtained them from the same source. They deal with a variety of matters and all incriminate Muselier. His Chief of Staff, a Lt Villiers, also seems to be involved. We can find nothing wrong with the text of the documents Kenneth is giving them to Desmond Morton under the same safeguards.

At about 10 pm I was rung up at Tring by Harker. He said that the PM had given orders for the arrest of Muselier, Villers and Mlle d’Anjou. I offered to come up but he said he did not think this was necessary. He and Kenneth went to see Morton, when Kenneth once more emphasised our doubts about the source of the information. Morton said that the PM had given his order and there was nothing to be done but to carry it out. Col Angenot was fetched and attempts were made to get hold of Gen de Gaulle. He was away on leave and it was found impossible to get into touch with him. Angenot rather regretfully agreed to the action suggested. Although he thought the documents bore the stamp of genuineness he would have liked Gen de Gaulle to have seen them before the arrests were made.

The Home Secretary was visited by Harker and Morton and gave the necessary orders to the police. Luckily we had already warned Canning during the afternoon that some action might be taken. In deference to Angenot’s wishes no action was taken against Moret, Muselier’s Chief of Staff, but at his request Mlle Herincx was put on the list as it was thought that if there was any conspiracy by Muselier she would be the most likely person to have documents. The police took action during the course of the night. Mlle D’Anjou was found in bed with Lisboa and Mlle Herincx with a Dr de Kerguelen. This is the first occasion on which they had slept together and it was his birthday. The police saw fit to bring in the doctor on the grounds of his association with Mlle Herincx. Lisboa, hearing the police entering Mlle d’Anjou’s flat, thought that they had some complaint about the blackout and hid in the lavatory. He eventually emerged and claimed diplomatic privileges. While he could not object to the flat being searched he refused to allow the police to touch any of his own clothes.

Villers could not be arrested till 8 am as he was on night duty at the Free French headquarters, and it was found that the Admiral was down at Windsor spending the night with a lady friend. He eventually rolled up at about 9 am. By way of precaution the police pulled in his valet and chauffeur. The Admiral protested mildly and said he hoped the matter would soon be cleared up as it would create a very bad impression in the Free French Navy."

Security at Bletchley Park

One way in which British Sigint during the Second World War anticipated the way many people work today was in having not just to find ways to provide physical security for the vast quantities of sensitive data being created, but in persuading large numbers of workers with no instinctive or habitual feeling for secrecy to protect the material they dealt with. I've written about the way in which infiltration by communists or communist sympathisers was handled – but how did Bletchley Park ensure that its site remained secure and persuade the ordinary people who made up its staff not to talk about their work, to the extent that few said anything about their involvement with Sigint for thirty years after the war came to an end? 

The initial approach to security at Bletchley Park was to surrounded it with secrecy. The name "Bletchley Park" was not to be mentioned: instead it was referred to as "Station X"; staff were forbidden to reveal the location, even to their families. However staff had to billeted and it was impossible to prevent it being known that Bletchley Park had been taken over by the Government. SIS came up with a cover story – that Bletchley Park was involved with the Air Defence of London – which it was thought would satisfy local inquisitiveness, but this cover story was not used when Bletchley Park was temporarily occupied in 1938 during the Munich Crisis and staff were told what their cover was until after the site was occupied in August 1939. The initial staff scattered about the neighbourhood – members of the Foreign Office, professors of Modern Languages, historians and mathematicians – had no obvious qualification for air defence: it is hard to believe that any one of them could have answered the simplest question if asked.

After SIS had mostly returned to London, the GC&CS leadership decided to change the cover story and to refer to the organisation at Bletchley as "Government Communications Headquarters", a name that was vaguer and potentially covered a broader field than Air Defence. But again the first staff of GC&CS knew about the new name was when in October 1939 they found it displayed on a large white painted signboard at the entrance gates – a sign which was subsequently removed.

The idea of keeping secret where staff were broke down almost at once. People had lives to live outside work and consequently had to have an address and, anyway, after a time some moved their families into houses nearby. At first an accommodation address had been provided: Room 47, Foreign Office; but as numbers grew the amount of work for the Foreign Office became too much, the last straw, allegedly, was when a motor cycle was delivered there. It was only in 1942 when a Bletchley PO Box Number was arranged, mainly for those whose billet address was uncertain, and a London Box Number was arranged which could be used for letters sent abroad (on which the Bletchley address was forbidden).

(There were fewer problems with the Y Stations: there was no question of concealing their presence or their function. But it was common knowledge that WT was used by the Services and the normal measures common to any Service station to prevent unauthorised visitors were satisfactory, though care was needed to prevent senior officers from entering without authorisation. Most commanding officers adopted some cover story for local use, for example that they were relaying weather reports.)

At Bletchley, physical security developed slowly. A solid iron ring fence was put up in the spring of 1940, but as GC&CS grew the fence had to be considerably lengthened and chain wire netting was substituted for the ironwork. There were only two official entrances. The most that can be said for the fencing was that it offered a sort of deterrent: it offered virtually no obstacle to a determined person and was neither lit nor patrolled at night. (During a Home Guard exercise early in 1943 the attackers removed a complete section under cover of darkness with no more formidable weapon than a spanner, and so attacked the defenders, somewhat unsportingly it was felt by the defenders, from the rear.) But it kept out casual intruders and ridiculously insecure as it probably was, it served its purpose during the war.

Every member of GC&CS and certain regular visitors were issued with standard passes. Theoretically passes were examined at the entrance gates but in practice they were simply waved at the gate guards by staff on their way in. There were two kinds of guard on the gates, Military Police, with armed sentries, and unarmed Foreign Office Security Police, recruited from pensioners in the Metropolitan Police. They got to recognise GC&CS staff and were probably the best security GC&CS had against infiltration. The Military Police boarded the incoming coaches and stopped all cars so that passes could be shown. Staff without passes were detained until recognised or claimed by their sections and these cases were reported to the Administration. Of course there were plenty of cases of people who had forgotten passes coming in at busy times and dodging the guard, of passes being handed through the fence out of sight of the gate by someone who had already entered, and of passes lent by someone coming off duty on foot to a pass-less colleague still outside the gate. In fact the number of forgotten passes each morning was considerable and steps had to be taken to make getting those staff into work as tiresome as possible, both to the individual and to their section, which had to send somebody to the guard hut to vouch for their identity. The alternative would have been to refuse entry altogether, which as there was no public transport would have left most individuals who were billeted outside Bletchley with no means of getting back to their billet as well as the loss of a day's work. There were relatively few cases of passes being lost: a fine was imposed to pay for a replacement. Like the fence, the pass system was adequate for the time and place, though not really offering much in the way security.

Temporary passes were issued to craftsmen and others who had business within the perimeter by BP administration. They either remained in sight or were escorted by the Military Police. Visiting military officers also received temporary passes and had to be vouched for by one of a small number of authorised staff from GC&CS. They were also escorted while on site. Further limitations were put upon the entry to work areas both by visitors and by staff from other sections, according to their "need to know".

Standing Orders provided that no room was to be left unoccupied unless all papers had been locked away. At times, whole rooms had to be locked and regarded as "cupboard rooms". The Foreign Office police patrolled buildings each night and all open windows or unsecured papers were reported, papers being kept by the police until the next morning. A "security officer" was appointed in each section to coordinate this within the section but there were many examples of carelessness among staff unaccustomed to this sort of behaviour. It was made more difficult anyway because the cupboards supplied were of poor quality and many of their doors opened enough when locked for a hand to be inserted without difficulty and the fastenings could be broken away by a sharp pull. It made all the fuss made about securing classified material seem futile.

Paper was by far the greatest security issue for GC&CS. The quantity was enormous. Forty or fifty thousand enemy signals entered GC&CS every day and the Cypher Office was handling between two and three million cypher groups (a further twenty or thirty thousand messages between BP and UK authorities) a week. The floors of the signals and deciphering rooms were covered in tape all of which had a gummed underside which stuck to shoes on a damp day. Each section generated formal papers of every kind and received large quantities as well. Most was carefully handled and the registration process prevented even more problems. But there was a lot of unrecorded paperwork as well, and the acute national shortage of paper meant that paper had to be kept for recycling rather than be simply destroyed by burning.

The routine for dealing with confidential waste was to have it collected once a day, sacked, tied up, locked up and taken once a week to a local paper-mill where it was tipped into bleaching vets under the supervision of the GC&CS security officer who had taken it there. This process worked reasonably well. The only difficulties came from GC&CS staff. They produced three kinds of waste – white paper, coloured paper (e.g. carbon paper, brown paper, cardboard boxes) and "hard core" which included almost every conceivable object except paper. The paper mills insisted that white paper should be separated from coloured paper as only white paper waste could produce pulp clean enough for new paper (coloured pulp was used for cardboard). Any hard object in the waste was liable to break the machinery, and glass in particular was dangerous to the workers. Three containers had to be supplied to every room for the three different kinds of waste. Paper waste of both grades was treated as secret while hard core was dealt with at the local council tip. The problem was to persuading staff to use the proper container and from a security point of view the danger lay in the hard core bins. Each member of staff was told how things worked on arrival in their section, was given written instructions, was again specifically reminded at a Security lecture, but carelessness remained an outstanding feature.

Physical security measures at GC&CS were probably not any worse than procedures in the Ministries, except that the grounds in which the offices stood were more vulnerable than a London building. The title "Government Communications Headquarters" worked well enough, though this disguise wore rather thin when the Army ordered shoulder flashes to be added to uniforms and the Bletchley area was thronged by soldiers labelled "Royal Corps of Signals" and "Intelligence Corps" – from a GC&CS point of view an unfortunate association of ideas. But in general GC&CS consistently pursued this policy of being low key, avoiding appearance before local tribunals or in any matter that might engage the attention of the Press or public. The cover stories probably increased rather than reduced curiosity. By far the best protection for GC&CS staff was simply to say that they couldn't talk about their work: to appear, as Churchill remarked of them during his visit 'innocent though engaged in a sinister occupation'.

Every new entrant (civilian or service, at Bletchley or at stations) read and signed an extract from the Official Secrets Act as did everybody leaving in a formal "signing off" process. In GC&CS after the signing of the Official Secrets Act staff were warned that no mention of the nature of the work outside the organisation was allowed, and this warning was included in the Standing Orders issued to them. Further security instruction was left to Section Heads to handle and this system continued until the beginning of 1942 when all security-related matters were centralised when Henry Hayward became Senior Security Officer for GC&CS.

Being "war entry" himself, he realised that suddenly exposing new entrants to highly secret information was an unusual experience and potentially a source of acute anxiety to some, while for others security rules would be no more important than rationing rules or petrol restrictions, which most people were prepared to dodge on the quiet. His solution was to ensure that Security became part of everybody's work rather than a bolt-on, and to do so, he rethought the way that new entrants were trained in security.

His plan was to give a simple lecture to every new entrant a few days after they arrived, followed by the signing of a solemn declaration which listed the main points of the lecture. This paper dealt in the main with the best answers to be given to ordinary everyday questions from acquaintances. It was handed out to be read and signed after the lecture, returned to the Directorate and, as it was a confidential document, its arrival or non-arrival until chased offered a clue to the reliability of the individual. This did not take the place of signing the Official Secrets Act, but supplemented it. Each batch of recruits – the intake was at first about 30 arriving every Monday morning – attended the lecture some three or four days after being signed on. They were divided into three categories according to the "need to know" their work attracted: those engaged in Sigint proper; those employed in support areas such as the Communications Section where there was no need for them to hear about the methodology of Sigint; and staff such as messengers, maintenance and catering, who might enter offices at times and who would certainly overhear other people talking about classified subjects. The lecture was varied according to the audience, the last category being especially warned against inquisitiveness, talking outside the perimeter of anything they saw (for example machinery) or anything they heard, but were otherwise given no information about the purpose of the organisation. The same lecture was given to the WRNS at Stanmore and Eastcote. Hayward visited these stations at longer intervals and audiences varied from about 100 up to 250.

His lecture always covered the following points:

1) Explanation of the provisions of the Official Secrets Act.

2) The Purpose of GC&CS.

3) The effect of its work on operations.

4) How it might be lost and the effect of doing so.

5) 'There is only one way of keeping a secret, and that is to tell it to nobody' not even to the nearest and dearest or others in the same uniform.

6) Behaviour: 'Do not surround yourself with mystery and avoid arousing curiosity' and how to answer casual or not so casual questions.

7) Not to write indiscreet letters.

8) The principle of need to know. 'Secrets which you do not need to know are an unnecessary burden and someone else's secret is never quite so secret as one's own', and how this led to the principle that members of one section should not discuss their work with members of another except when necessary.

9) The honour of the Service.

(Before anyone asks, I do not know what "The honour of the Service" covered.)

Hayward gained a further insight into the sort of issues staff needed to be warned about as all security breaches were reported to him. Most cases fell into one of three main categories: victims of the confidence trick – senior officers saying 'I know all about your work as I was an intelligence officer in the last war' or parents saying 'You can surely trust me'; people who deliberately attracted attention ("men of mystery"); and what he described as "chatterboxes and letter writers". Of these the last category was by far the largest and the most easily dealt with.

Staff were told that it was their duty, however unpleasant, to report security breaches at once and Hayward ensured that incidents were handles in such a way as to minimize any personal animosities. In his words: "It was made to appear rather more a question of helping a weaker vessel than reprimanding a naughty child."

Hayward arranged periodically for a week or so's censorship on all letters leaving or entering the area in which GC&CS staff were living. This produced on each occasion a small crop of letters which were returned to GC&CS for action. No really serious security breach was discovered and all were easily dealt with, but it demonstrated the need to explain in simple language what constituted careless talk and what was meant by security.

American Air Force officers regularly invited WRNS and other young women employees to their dances. Unfortunately the drinks served tended to be both stronger and more plentiful than most of their guests were accustomed to. The presence of women in Naval uniform in the heart of the country was intriguing and led to a degree of innocent questioning. So many cases of indiscreet talk occurred that GC&CS felt obliged to ask the WRNS not to allow their personnel to visit certain American stations. The problem was passed on to the US Army Sigint authorities in the UK, who sorted things out at their end. The security problem was perceived to be greater because of the likelihood that some at least of these officers might fall into enemy hands.

There were some cases of mental breakdown. Fortunately in an early case the patient, by that time in a nursing home, wrote to a colleague about work matters. It was immediately appreciated that a letter like this could be sent to anyone. MI5 was called in and arranged for doctors and nurses to be interviewed and letters censored. This became a standard procedure.

Security breaches during the Second World War were relatively infrequent and easily dealt with.  The idea that maintaining secrecy was an integral part of everybody's job became embedded within the organisation, and many of the practices begun there continued after the war, and indeed to the present day.