‘But what possible danger could she be to the state?’ Joe persisted. ‘Playing Girl Guides with a bunch of silly debutantes and the lout Donovan?’
He was pleased to have provoked the response he wanted.
‘Not silly girls at all! Clever, able, well-trained girls.’ Armitage hesitated, weighing the knowledge that he was exceeding his brief against his understanding of his superior officer which was pushing him beyond his limits. He came to a decision. ‘Girls who, though they were unaware of it,’ he went on, ‘had, in their charming little heads, the power to lose the next war for us.’
‘Lose a war, Bill? But they were training to help win wars.’
‘Tell you a story.’ He leaned back and Joe had a clear impression that he was about to call up a brandy and soda. ‘Know who I mean when I mention Admiral Sir John Fisher?’
‘Of course. Father of the modern navy . . . innovator . . . brilliant man. Destroyers, submarines, torpedoes, guns – he was responsible for the state of readiness of the fleet when war broke out. It was Jack Fisher who said: “On the British fleet rests the Empire.”’
‘And he wasn’t wrong. It was his protégé, Admiral Jellicoe, who actually led the fleet into battle. Now, the Germans were caught on the back foot on several occasions early in the war because Jellicoe always seemed to know where and when they were massing for attack. The reason he was able to give them a bloody nose was the SIGINT warnings to Room 40. Signals Intelligence. Wireless telegraphy, radio, whatever you like to call it. Their shipping movements were being monitored, the information collated and interpreted and handed to Jellicoe on a plate. He and Admiral Beatty were on their way while the German fleet was still in harbour. At the battle of Jutland, he had victory in his pocket and the German fleet trapped at night in open waters at the entrance to the Skaggarak. He was ready to blow them out of the water come dawn but – he faltered. He was given signals information and he ignored it. Let them get away. No one’s quite sure why.’
Joe wondered why Armitage was imparting this information so freely and who was his source. He had remarked an unusual political slant which didn’t quite chime with what he had understood to be Armitage’s philosophy.
‘Jellicoe decided to accept instead the inaccurate information from his scouting cruisers,’ Armitage revealed, watching for Joe’s reaction. ‘Reverted in the middle of battle to the tried and tested old methods. If he’d acted in accordance with radio intelligence supplied, which was very clear as to the position of the High Seas Fleet, Jutland might have turned out really to be the victory Churchill told us afterwards it had been and not the uncomfortable and bloody draw it actually was.’
‘Why was the intelligence not acted on? Do you – or your masters – have a theory, Bill?’
‘You fancy yourself as a psychologist – you tell me! There is a phrase they’ve invented to cover it: the Incredulity Factor. A sudden refusal to put your trust in modern technology.’
‘I know it well,’ said Joe. ‘It affects me every time I change gear.’
He thought he would get the most out of Armitage by keeping their exchanges as light as possible and maintaining, as far as he could, their old relationship. ‘But I do begin to see how a well-placed squad of Wrens could wreak havoc at sea,’ he added carefully.
‘Yes, there’s no doubt that Jellicoe’s hesitation was due to incredulity but – think! Suppose a wireless operator had been in a position to send him a further communication confirming his own doubts. “Ignore previous message . . . we got it wrong . . . HSF now reported sailing west . . .” Bound to have influenced his decision!’
‘Certainly. We all like to have support for our own misjudgements.’
Armitage looked at him steadily for a moment then continued: ‘The navy was pivotal. If the Germans had destroyed us at sea in 1916 and blockaded the country – no supplies coming in and no troops going out – we’d have been on our knees in six months.’
Joe knew Armitage was not exaggerating when he said, ‘One duff message, Captain, that’s all it would take.’
Joe’s reply came haltingly, unwillingly. ‘And if the sender has knowledge of the language, coding, wireless technology . . . and – perhaps most vital – an understanding of overall strategy . . . Oh, my God! But would a woman ever be given such an influential role?’
The full enormity of the scenario had hit Joe and he shuddered.
‘It didn’t take the navy long to discover the girl recruits were smarter than the men when it came to SIGINT and they’re nothing if not innovators at the Admiralty – if it works, use it. If war were to break out again, I’d expect Queen Bea’s girls or the like to be operating in the signals section. Wireless, signals, codes. The next lot will be won or lost in the airwaves not in the trenches. One bad communication from a trusted source at a critical moment, that’s all you’ll need!’