Bletchley Park

Earl Attlee Excerpts

Wednesday 12th March 2014 Lords Chamber

[Baroness Trumpington]

To ask Her Majesty’s Government what plans they have for the future of Bletchley Park.

[Earl Attlee (Con)]

My Lords, timings for the QSD are quite tight. I remind noble Lords that when the indicator shows “4”, noble Lords are in their fifth minute and therefore out of time.

[Baroness Trumpington (Con)]

My Lords, I am very grateful for the opportunity this short debate presents to recall the significance that Bletchley Park represents to our history. This debate allows me to provide some background and context to the restoration that is being contemplated as a result of the £8 million financing that it has received. I hope that those involved will avoid creating a Disney theme park experience for the visitor—the Hollywood films that have been made to date bear little resemblance to the Bletchley that I recall. I still find it difficult to discuss this subject in public. After all, the Bletchley that I knew was a highly secret place and for many years we were forbidden from mentioning it.

I am especially pleased to see that the noble Viscount, Lord Astor, will be speaking. His mother Sarah was my colleague and a great friend. Three weeks ago I was called to a small table in the tea tent of the Peers’ Dining Room where a host Peer and his wife had as their guest 96 year-old Pamela Rose. Pam worked and I typed through those wartime days and nights. We were employed by the Foreign Office, never in uniform, and we did not look after Colossus, as did the Wrens pictured so recently in the Times.

Let me try, very briefly, to describe my recollection of the Bletchley Park that I knew. I spent my time working in Hut 4, followed by Block B. We were never allowed to visit other offices. I am delighted that the original Hut 4 remains. In 1941, it was the centre of U-boat warfare research before Colossus; nowadays, Hut 4 is a bar. I never went into the mansion, which was known to me and my colleagues as “The Other Side”. The present day invaluable post office did not exist, and at the back of the mansion lay paddocks belonging to Captain Ingram’s stud farm. Nowadays, those paddocks are covered by huge housing estates, and only someone as old as me and as keen on racing as I am would know of their past. The pond, now a rather grand lake, stood alone, and a nearby path is bordered by American shrubs, to which we all contributed in order to commemorate American involvement with Bletchley, which was an important part of the latter part of the war.

Food was actually a bit of a problem. Outside the main gate was a short road. On one side lay strictly private houses and on the other side a very large shed housed our only canteen. At the end of the building was a raised stage from which Bletchley Park choirs sang and theatrical productions took place. It is a pity that the shed was not preserved for visitors’ use in peacetime, although I am glad that the disgusting food is not available. I hope that some of the new money can be set aside to provide first-class meals, snacks and maybe facilities for banquets—and I consider this to be very important.

The recent debates in this house about Alan Turing have highlighted some of the work done at Bletchley. It strikes me that I am probably seriously out of date; I should therefore be wise to seek the help of the many voluntary guides who I know do such an admirable job. In the mean time, I hope that it does not sound cheeky for me to wish that funny old place a magnificent future.