Andrew (219) takes us on a fascinating journey into the history of Bletchley Park, the secret hub where Allied codebreakers unraveled the Enigma code during WWII. His post beautifully illustrates the profound impact of this work, not only on the war's outcome but also on the very foundations of modern computing, pioneered by unsung heroes like Alan Turing. This article delves into the historical context that inspired Bremont's 'Codebreaker' watch, exploring the intersection of horology and pivotal moments in British history.
It is one of England’s hidden war secrets. It was always what John LeCarre referred to as the act that the English did well: wage the secret war, the war unseen to nearly all, the war that makes a difference not in great battles, but only in the outcome. Bletchley Park was such a place where such wars were fought; it was where, in the Second World War, the secret code used to communicate with the German U-Boats was unraveled, and in so doing, the modern foundations for computing were born. Some rather unknown, and unsung heroes masterminded the work; their names Alan Turing, Gordon Welchman, and Harold 'Doc' Keen.
[The statue of Alan Turing hunched over an Enigma machine (at Bletchley Park) by Stephen Kettle: a gift from philanthropist Sidney Frank ].
[Alan Turing’s watch: surprisingly not a Bremont!]
In order to communicate with their U-Boats in the Second World War, German High Command decided to use related electro-mechanical rotor cipher machines used for the encryption and decryption of secret messages. Used properly, the cipher machines would be almost unbreakable, but the combination of human error in setting the machine at the start, and the ability to machine code the mathematics of breaking such codes, meant that Bletchley Park, and the intelligence reports that came out of there (code named Ultra), were the difference in the war ending in the Allies favour, and perhaps 2 or even 4 years sooner than otherwise might have been expected. Without the work of the code-breakers at Bletchley, the German U-Boats would have been able to move and strike throughout the North Atlantic without interception or hindrance.
[The Enigma machine]
It is sometimes on the timing of random events that the fate of nations is decided in a time of war. For Bletchley Park, there were several random events that if they had not happened, perhaps the activities there would have been consigned to a footnote in the history books. Even before the war, and the need for a code-breaker was required with a high degree of urgency, three Polish mathematicians were working out how to break a three-ring cipher machine. Without their work and the presentation of it in London in 1932, Turing may not have made the breakthroughs that he did had it not been for this work. Turing took the earlier work and not only figured out a more parsimonious and erudite approach to the problem (that could be broken down into defined steps), but they also completed the necessary programming rules for the first semi-programmable computer (Colossus). In short, through the deciphering work at Bletchley, Turing laid down the rules for modern computing: including rules for determining if a computer can have independent thought.
[Turing’s famous paper: “On computable numbers..”. Turing demonstrated the concept of controlling the computer’s operations by means of a program of instructions stored in the computer’s memory. All modern computers are versions of the Universal Turing machine that was introduced in this article. After the war, Turing went further and suggested a Turing test: a test of a machine's ability to exhibit intelligent behaviour equivalent to, or indistinguishable from, that of an actual human.]
The Bombe machines functional design was produced by Alan Turing (with some collaboration from Gordon Welchman), with the engineering to actually build such a machine being undertaken by Harold 'Doc' Keen of the British Tabulating Machine Company at Letchworth. The working Bombe machine at Bletchley was given an example run for our benefit. In an age of silent computing power: the laptop I work on is silent save for the ‘tap-tap’ of my fingers on the keys, the Bombe machine was a cacophony of whirring rotors and the humming of electric switches. The very physical notion that letter combinations were being computed could not only be seen in the movement of the rotor dials, but in the sound and sense of the work the machine was performing. The Bombe machine weighs a ton - literally!
[The back of the Bombe machine: all switches and relays. Just like your smartphone, only bigger and heavier!]
Initially, after the war, Churchill (for reasons that now seem wrong) ordered the Bombe and Colossus machines and the files to be destroyed. However, some of the machines remained intact, and with spare parts from the ones that were partially destroyed, a fully working Bombe machine could be reconstructed at Bletchley Park. Second, no use was found for Bletchley Park after the war. With the machines and all documentation essentially destroyed, and with wartime participants sworn to secrecy, Bletchley Park was in danger of slipping quietly from the history books. Perhaps because Bletchley’s role was so secret, after the War the place fell into disrepair. Bletchley Park moved through an array of official and quasi-official organisations (Post Office, the Civil Aviation Authority, and even GCHQ) with different uses. Most of the outbuildings had fallen into disrepair, and slowly, without maintenance, the site steadily became more dilapidated. By 1991, the site was almost empty and the buildings were at risk of demolition. In February 1992, the Bletchley Park Trust was formed after Milton Keynes Borough Council declared the Park a conservation area. Funding for the restoration of Bletchley has been slow, and not always sufficient. There has been no official funding from the UK government. Work has been slow through lack of funds. It has taken private individuals and a succession of grants (from a variety of organisations) to restore the site to its current condition. The preservation of huts 6 and 8 (the ones that involved the decryption of the Enigma machine transmissions) has only recently started. Although funding has been provided by such organizations as The National Lottery and Google, funding has also been sought in other collaborative projects. One of the collaborative projects was the creation of a Bletchley Park watch with Bremont.
[The dilapidated state of Hut 8]
Bremont have made a noted success in recent years of partnering with British heritage projects that require financial assistance. Although Bremont was founded on tough no nonsense aviation inspired watches, the recent special editions have been co-branded with vintage aircraft (the Spitfire EP120 and Mustang P-51), H.M.S. Victory, and now the “Codebreaker”. Although each watch has been a chronograph of some description, with the same basic movement underlying each one (Valjoux 7750), the style and layout of the dial of each watch has been distinctive. The dials on each occasion have a definitive design feature that relates to the heritage project in question. For the historic aviation watches, the dial design was taken directly from the dials on the respective aircraft. For the ‘Victory’ watch, the dial design was a generic officers watch style. And in keeping with the previous watches, the “Codebreaker” has that vintage style from the military issue watches from the 1940’s. The chronograph features two central sub-dials coupled with a flyback. As far as I am aware, this is the first time the dial configuration looks like this.
As with the other watches, some unique and historic materials are used in the construction of the limited edition series. In all instances the historic materials become available through restoration work. The material may not be sound enough for its original use, but it can be included in a non-stress element in the watch. For the “Codebreaker” watch, the parts came from two elements: the floorboards being restored in hut 6 at Bletchley (found in the crown of the watch) and the smelted metal from some spare Enigma dials (which made its way into the rotor). The rotor design itself is taken from the rotors that comprise the ‘Bombe’ machine. Look closely at the watch rotor and the design of the Bombe rotors: the pin, lettering, and colouring all match.
[Note the rotor design and numbers on the side of the watch]
On the newly designed leather nato strap, the watch definitely has something of the ‘modern’ retro style about it that is very much in vogue at the current time. It is a limited edition, with 240 of the steel cased versions, and 50 of the rose gold versions being made. One last aspect binds the watch to Bletchley Park. The Bombe machines were essentially the world’s first programmable machines, and were programmed by feeding in punch cards. The ‘punched out’ numbering on the punch cards were read into the machine as the program. Bremont were handed six of the punch cards that remain in order to obtain the numbers for the limited edition watches. Suitably protected from the elements, the numbers appear on the side of the watch.
The Bremont press release event was a mix of theatrics and education; with a touch of Harry Potter thrown in for good measure. But then, it was not unlike the actual recruitment process that individuals went through to get to Bletchley. We were asked to turn up at Euston Station and meet under the main board. Someone would be there to meet us and give us our train tickets. Bletchley itself is situated on the “varsity” train line that runs between Cambridge and Oxford, and this was where the majority of the recruits came from. Early arrivals at Bletchley in 1939, arriving in similar fashion by train, masked the real purpose of their visit by stating that they were part of “Captain Ridley’s Shooting Party”.
I have a great deal of empathy for both the watch and the cause. Full disclosure up front: my father was part of the electrical engineering team that helped out with the power supply for the Colossus computer which was the machine that superseded the Bombe machines and ushered in the computer age. Turing’s work at Bletchley, and the work he shared with the U.S., enabled computing machines to develop. It seems hard to believe now, with a smart phone nestled into the palm of your hand, that 70 years ago the first steps into computing were taken out of necessity: to compute trillions of possibilities in the form of intercepted coded messages, to save lives, and to preserve freedom. As allegations unfold now of the same agencies intercepting private communications, as they did in wartime, it is perhaps the right moment to stop and reflect where it all started and the more noble reason why it was required. The Bremont “Codebreaker” watch is a reminder of history, when we truly were all in ‘this’ together, and when the cause was obvious and known. Perhaps that is why mechanical watches still resonate: when that same smartphone will tell you the time, you still want to be able to feel the motion of time being measured in the machine. A mechanical watch can do that. The Bremont “Codebreaker” watch is a smartly executed reminder of the passage of time.
Andrew H
This message has been edited by 219 on 2013-07-04 11:09:38 This message has been edited by 219 on 2013-07-04 14:12:06 This message has been edited by MTF on 2013-07-07 23:09:02 
