From Churchill's War Rooms E-Book

Joanna Moody

• Herausgeber: The History Press
• Kategorie: Geisteswissenschaft
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 445

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2008

Beschreibung

Published for the first time, this illuminating and poignant correspondence offers a rare insight into the workings of the Cabinet War Rooms towards the end of the Second World War, and documents the rich wartime experiences of a woman with exclusive access to the closed world of Churchill's inner circle. 1939-1945 saw many important events of the Second World War. Yet a young secretary, Olive Christopher, was party to the political secrets of these crucial final years, working in Churchill's Cabinet War Rooms.

Leseprobe

FROM CHURCHILL’S WAR ROOMS

Letters of a Secretary 1943-45

It did not occur to us that we were being brave, we just felt lucky that we had this marvellous, exciting job which took us all over the world.

Olive [Christopher] Margerison, 2005.

FROM CHURCHILL’S WAR ROOMS

Letters of a Secretary 1943-45

JOANNA MOODY

FOREWORD BY PHIL REED

DIRECTOR OF THE CHURCHILL MUSEUM AND CABINET WAR ROOMS

For Olive’s friends and colleagues in the Cabinet War Rooms: Joan, Elizabeth, Jacquey, Wendy, Sylvia, Betty, Jo and Ruth

Cover illustrations: Female typist, image courtesy Imperial War Museum; Franklin D. Roosevelt, Stalin, and Churchill in Teheran, Iran, image courtesy Franklin D. Roosevelt Presidential Library and Museum. Other images, Author’s Collection.

First published 2007

This edition first published 2008

The History Press

The Mill, Brimscombe Port

Stroud, Gloucestershire, GL5 2QG

www.thehistorypress.co.uk

This ebook edition first published in 2013

All rights reserved

© Joanna Moody, 2007, 2008, 2013

The right of Joanna Moody to be identified as the Author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyrights, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

This ebook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any way except as specifically permitted in writing by the publishers, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorised distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author’s and publisher’s rights, and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.

EPUB ISBN 978 0 7524 9654 2

Original typesetting by The History Press

Contents

Foreword

Preface

Acknowledgements

Chronology

Introduction

Part One: 1915-43 Early Years

1915-30

1931-39

1940-43

Part Two: Letters

(I) 1943-44 Cairo, Teheran, Marrakech

(II) 1944 Quebec

(III) 1945 Berlin/Potsdam

Postscript

Notes

Select Bibliography

List of Illustrations

Foreword

In the study of history we rely on historians for our understanding of past times and events. They, with their vast compass of wide reading and sage interpretation, facilitate for us insights into bygone eras that we lack the resources to explore in detail. In the case of ancient history they locate, translate and extrapolate scarce sources; in more modern times they distil the super-abundance of data available in the form of official and personal reports. But what, in every case, the historian relies on, particularly in this age of experiential demands, is the first-hand account of the intelligent and reliable witness who was there and whose testimony speaks to us from those times with an actuality and a humanity that no amount of studied analysis can equal.

Olive Margerison was there. She was at the epicentre of affairs of state at a juncture in history, which, uniquely, shaped the lives of living and future generations across the planet. She was not a decision maker, not a leading player, nor even an influence on the outcome of any events (though, with her tales of crucial secret folders mislaid by others, she might have risked being!) She was a close bystander, privy not merely to secrets, but to the personalities and foibles of the individuals who managed the course of events, as far as it was within their power. She is a living witness to the main players and the thoughts, emotions and actions, which drove them.

But Olive is no nameless scribe with no record beyond her witness statement. She was a woman with a life before, during and after the whirlwind events that she describes. And if we are to give credence to such witness, we feel a human need to know something of the lives of such close observers. Olive’s life extends well beyond that short, but seismic period of history and, happily, encompasses the microcosmic ordinariness and the personal highs and lows of an individual and of a real life, led in a period long since passed, but, for all the distance of time, relevant to any age and any human life.

If I learned one thing from my friendship with Olive – and there is much that will stay with me long after she has become a delightful reminiscence in my own life – it is her recounting how she and her husband, in the early days of their marriage, keenly agreed to employ their scarce resources to ‘go and buy a memory’ and do something which, regardless of their lack of money, they could one day reflect upon, retell and cherish. We are privileged, not only to look back on, and to relive, the memories and experiences of one who was at the hub of historical events, but to see those events in the context of a life full of memories even more valuable than just the mere movements of history.

Phil Reed

Director, Churchill Museum and Cabinet War Rooms

Imperial War Museum

London, June 2006

Preface

In the summer of 1982, following the government of the day’s decision to open the Cabinet War Rooms to the general public, I was retained as a researcher working on contract in the Research and Information Office of the Imperial War Museum. My task was a fascinating one: to find out as much as possible about the exact wartime appearance of the individual rooms, and just as importantly, to discover how, when and by whom they had been used at different times during the conflict.

For those who have either forgotten or are too young to have had first-hand experience of the period, Britain in the early 1980s was only just emerging from a prolonged economic recession and the first shock of what has come to be known as ‘The Thatcher Revolution’. Not only museums but government departments in general had been on short commons for some time and it was only due to Mrs Thatcher’s personal interest in the project (the Falklands War was still fresh in the public mind) that the restoration of the Cabinet War Rooms had been given a fair wind by the spending watchdogs in the Treasury.

At the time, what remained of the underground, wartime complex, located beneath a massive, turn-of-the-century, neo-classical structure, with the unlovely soubriquet GOGGS (Government Offices Great George Street), was in the care of the Property Services Agency of the Department of the Environment. Privatised a few years later and now long-forgotten, the PSA was the direct successor to the pre-war Ministry of Works that had originally put the War Rooms together on instructions from the Assistant Secretary (Military) of the Cabinet, General Ismay, and his deputy, ‘Jo’ Hollis (Olive’s future wartime boss). While a majority of rooms in the complex had been returned to normal civilian usage (I recall that one of the bedrooms set aside for Mr Churchill’s colleagues in the War Cabinet had become the HQ of the Ministry of Defence Amateur Dramatic Society!) or been left empty and abandoned, a handful of key rooms, the Central Map Room, the Prime Minister’s bedroom and the Cabinet Meeting Room itself, had been preserved almost untouched since the end of the war in August 1945. In addition, the PSA had managed to hold onto a complete set of photographs taken in the principle rooms of the complex at the time of their evacuation and the Imperial War Museum, brought in to advise on the historical aspects of the restoration, had commissioned Dr Nigel de Lee of the War Studies Department at RMC Sandhurst, to trawl through the official files held in the Public Record Office.

So there was already a considerable body of evidence for me to build on when I commenced work at the beginning of July 1982. It soon became apparent, however, that the kind of detailed information required to restore the CWR to its former glory was only likely to be obtained from individual members of the War Cabinet Secretariat and related bodies such as the staff of No. 10 Downing Street, who had actually lived and worked in the underground complex during the course of the war. With a few notable exceptions, such as Wing Commander Gwylim Lewis, a First World War fighter ‘ace’, who in his own words had been ‘dug out of retirement’ to serve as a Map Keeper in the Central Map Room, all of my informants had been young and relatively junior at the time. Nevertheless, there were still a good number of retired civil service mandarins of vast seniority and pillars of the British political establishment, such as the former Establishment Officer of the War Cabinet Office, Sir John Winnifrith, and Churchill’s favourite wartime Private Secretary, Sir John Colville, who contributed to my research. But by far the most useful and detailed information came, as it was likely to, from the ranks of the Secretariat proper, the often very young women who had worked as personal assistants or members of the central typing pool.

One of these, the formidable Joan Astley, who as Miss Bright had presided over the Central Information Centre on the second floor of GOGGS, was already known to me as a result of her book The Inner Circle, and it was not long before I learned that Lord Ismay’s former PA, Miss Elizabeth (Betty) Green was still working part-time on the vetting of Cabinet Office papers for public disclosure. Through them I soon got to meet the rest of ‘the girls’, including Olive, and to put faces to the names that I had seen on the accommodation plans for the CWR and for the Dock, the horribly cramped sleeping quarters located beneath the main complex of underground rooms: Miss Christopher, Miss Hartley, Miss D’Orville, Miss Wallace, Miss Meade, and many others. And with the faces came memories, sometimes rather hazy but mostly incredibly vivid, of people and places, times and events when they were all young, full of hope and found themselves at the very centre of the nation’s war effort.

Armed with these recollections, the restoration proceeded at pace and by early 1984, the Museum, which had been invited to manage the War Rooms on behalf of the Secretary of State for the Environment, was well in the throes of final preparation for the grand opening by Mrs Thatcher herself. By this time, I had been appointed first Curator of the Cabinet War Rooms, but if the thought of having to deal with a visit from the Prime Minister was somewhat daunting, it was nothing compared to my nervous anticipation when just before the opening we invited a choice selection of our informants, amongst them Olive and ‘the girls’, to view the site and to comment upon the accuracy of our restoration efforts. Fortunately we passed muster, but even more heartening was the knowledge that the Museum had won for itself and the CWR a body of staunch and true supporters, while in turn providing a focal point for the renewal of old and valued friendships forged in unique and unrepeatable circumstances.

My own time as Curator CWR came to an end in 1993, when I handed over to my erstwhile colleague Phil Reed. But I was delighted to learn that Olive and some of her old friends had been able to attend the opening of the Churchill Museum in 2005 and it was with immense pleasure that I accepted Joanna Moody’s invitation to write this brief preface to her book highlighting the wartime correspondence of Olive and her equally charming and sadly missed husband Neil.

Jon WenzelTonbridge, June 2006

Acknowledgements

I owe an initial debt to Mona Killpack who first suggested this project and put me in touch with her distant cousin, Olive Margerison. I am deeply grateful to Olive for sharing such a valuable collection of letters and wartime memorabilia, and for her informative interviews and extensive telephone conversations. Her sister Enid Wilson, her nephews and their wives, Neil and Sue Margerison, Andrew and Elizabeth Wilson, showed me old family documents and files. Derek Attridge, of the Department of English and Related Literature, University of York, was generous with his time when needed, and Gordon Smith gave assistance with photographic prints. The British Academy provided me with a small research grant, which enabled me to spend time with Olive in her own home and thus complete the book. At the Imperial War Museum, London, Phil Reed, Director of the Churchill Museum and Cabinet War Rooms, agreed at a very busy, award-winning, time to write the foreword, and I appreciate the interest of Elizabeth Bowers and the cooperation of Yvonne Oliver and Chris Plant. I am also grateful to Jon Wenzel, formerly of the IWM, for his interest and prefatory comments, and to Olive’s good friend, Rosalyn Swindells, who helped her with typing extra information. Sophie Bradshaw of Tempus Publishing efficiently and enthusiastically took the book through to its final stages. David Moody, as always, has given expert and helpful criticism of style and presentation, and special thanks are due to the following for their discussion and warm hospitality: Ingrid and Edward Popkin, Belinda Coppock, and Richard Fulford.

Chronology

1915

12 Feb.

Olive Christopher born, Bromley, Kent

1918

5 Mar.

Neil Margerison born, Blackburn, Lancashire

1931

Olive starts work as a secretary in London with George Court and Sons

1938

Mar.

Germany occupies Austria

29 Sept.

Munich Crisis Agreement – Britain and France cede Czechoslovakian Sudetenland to Germany

1939

Mar.

Germany annexes Czech provinces of Bohemia and Moravia

1 Sept.

Germany invades Poland

3 Sept.

Britain and France declare war on Germany

4 Sept.

Neil joins the army as a private in the Royal Army Ordnance Corps

1940

April

Germany invades Denmark and Norway;

May

Germany invades Belgium, Holland, France

10 May

Winston Churchill becomes PM

25 May–4 Jun.

Evacuation of BEF and French 1st Army from Dunkirk

June

Italy enters war. Fall of France

10 July–31 Oct.

Battle of Britain

7 Sept.–3 Nov.

London Blitz, and throughout winter 1940-41 London under attack Neil becomes a captain

Dec.

Olive interviewed for a job in the War Office, Whitehall

1941

Olive works in the War Office: the Department of M09 as a typist attached to the Inter Services Security Board (MI5) Planning of ‘Operation Torch’ (invasion of Africa, 1942) Planning of ‘Operation Overlord’ begins (invasion of Europe, 1944)

April

Germany invades Yugoslavia and Greece

May

Neil becomes a major

June

Germany invades Russia

7 Dec.

Pearl Harbour

8 Dec.

Britain and USA declare war on Japan

Dec.

Olive transferred to the offices of the War Cabinet, Great George Street, as shorthand-typist attached to the Joint Planning Staff in the Cabinet War Rooms (CWR), remaining there as one of only 8 civilian girls

1942

2 Oct.

Battle of El Alamein begins defeat of Axis forces in North Africa

31 Oct.

Olive meets Neil

1943

Jan.

Olive interviewed for a job at the Special Operations Executive (SOE) as secretary on the staff of Captain Buckmaster, in their offices in Baker Street. Application successful, but she is told they are unable to release her, and she will be promoted to the offices of the Chiefs of Staff Committee to work as secretary, later personal assistant, to Brigadier, later General, Hollis

Jan–Feb.

Battle of Stalingrad, defeat of German army there; retreat of German forces from Russia

May

Washington Conference (2 weeks)

10 July

Allied invasion of Sicily

1 Aug.

1st Quebec Conference Plans for Moscow Conference changed due to Churchill’s illness

3 Sept.

Allied landings in Italy; followed by surrender of Italy

9–20 Oct.

Moscow Conference

12 Nov.

Olive embarks in HMS Renown for Cairo & Teheran

17–19 Nov.

Delay at Malta

21–26 Nov.

Cairo Conference

27–30 Nov.

Teheran ‘Three Power’ Conference

30 Nov.

Olive attends Churchill’s 69th birthday in Teheran

1–8 Dec.

Back working in Cairo

9 Dec.

Olive embarks in HMS Penelope, sails for Malta and home

11 Dec.

Arrives Malta (Churchill ill in Tunis), 3 days there; HMS Penelope goes on to Bizerta to await instructions; invitation to dine on HMS Jervis

17 Dec.

Hollis goes on to Tunis; Olive returns by air to UK via Gibraltar

26 Dec.

Olive summoned to Marrakech to rejoin Hollis team; secret trip to Lyneham airfield to meet Lord Beaverbrook’s plane going to join Churchill; Olive misses plane and is put on another, then joins Hollis at Hotel Mamounia; works there and at Villa Taylor Brigadier Hollis promoted to Major General

Dec.

Marrakech Conference; Olive attends Churchill’s New Year’s Eve party at the Villa Taylor, meets Gen. Eisenhower

1944

Jan.

Flight home, touches down in Gibraltar where Olive meets up with Neil; Olive sails back in HMS King George V, in which Churchill is travelling

6 June

D-Day: ‘Operation Overlord’ Allied landings in Normandy, invasion of North-West Europe

late June

Neil injured when jeep blown up in Italy; hospitalised for 3 weeks

Aug.

Liberation of Paris

Sept.

Olive embarks in Queen Mary for 2nd Quebec Conference

11–16 Sept.

2nd Quebec Conference at Chateau Frontenac Hotel; Olive meets Mrs Roosevelt; return to UK in Queen Mary

1945

Feb.

Yalta Conference

12 April

Truman becomes US President on death of Roosevelt

4 May

Germany surrenders

8 May

VE Day: end of Second World War in Europe

June

Neil promoted to lieutenant colonel; moves to work in Austria

5 July

British General Election Olive flies to Germany for Potsdam Conference

15 July

Potsdam Conference (3 weeks)

26 July

Election Results. Churchill voted out; Hollis summons Olive back to London

27 July

Clement Attlee becomes PM, and completes matters at Potsdam

6 Aug.

Atomic bomb dropped on Hiroshima,

9 Aug.

Atomic bomb dropped on Nagasaki; followed by surrender of Japan

15 Aug.

VJ Day marks end of war with Japan

16 Aug.

Cabinet War Rooms closed

Nov.

Neil sends Olive notice of forthcoming leave

1 Dec.

Neil arrives home, after two years absence

15 Dec.

Olive and Neil marry; confirmation of her MBE

1946

Mar.

Neil demobbed; Olive gives up work to become a full-time housewife

1984

Opening of the Cabinet War Rooms to the general public

1988

Neil dies from a heart attack

2005

10 Feb.

Opening of the Churchill Museum; Olive presented to Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II

Introduction

The letters and wartime memorabilia included here are to be found in the personal possession of Mrs Olive Margerison MBE. The correspondence charts a romantic story of sixty years ago, when, as young Olive Christopher, she and her fiancé Neil Margerison wrote to each other for two years whilst separated during the Second World War. Olive worked as a secretary in the Cabinet War Rooms, in London. He was an officer in the Army Ordnance Corps, in Gibraltar, North Africa, Italy and Austria. Their story of separation may not be uncommon, but their situation was undoubtedly special.

Olive was not an ordinary secretary. She was a member of Winston Churchill’s team in the crucial period 1943–45 when momentous decisions were being made for Allied victory in Europe. Having begun as a stenographer in the War Office she was soon promoted, first to the office of the Joint Planning Staff in the War Rooms, and then to become personal assistant to General Sir Leslie (Jo) Hollis, RM, Secretary to the Chiefs of Staff, later to become post-war Commandant General of the Royal Marines. Working long hours, writing and typing confidential papers and memos, spending much of her time in the underground bunker opposite St James’s Park, Olive was party to secrets known only to a few important people. She was one of a limited number of civilians employed alongside men and women from the three armed forces, together efficiently undertaking the work of recording, filing, and generally supporting the War Cabinet’s operational planning. Churchill particularly favoured the civilian workers, believing they brought a different kind of order and well-being to the formality of the office. He maintained that the civilian secretaries in the War Rooms were every bit as good and as necessary as the uniformed staff, and he insisted, against much opposition, that they travel to conferences because they were familiar with the modes of working of the Chiefs of Staff. They were trusted, got on well with their seniors who regarded them highly, and there were never any security leaks from their offices during the whole course of the war. We can now find out more about their busy and eventful lives by visiting the Churchill Museum and Cabinet War Rooms, at the Imperial War Museum, London, where we can see for ourselves the conditions in which they lived and worked throughout the Second World War.

It meant that, during the period when Britain was at war, Olive led two lives. She was a competent, high-flying secretary, with the astonishing benefits that came with the job, including certain luxuries and a substantial dress allowance with coupons that defied wartime austerity. At the same time she was an ordinary and rather impoverished young woman, in love with someone far away, longing for his return and trying to raise his spirits by sending news from home. A warm, generous young woman sat before the typewriter creating these missives, which are valuable not only for what they reveal on the page but also for what has had to be kept hidden. Readers must fill in the gaps. Alongside the expressions of desire and talk of friends and family, we must bear in mind the progress of the war, how much is not being said, and what may happen to these young people when it is all over. We read between the lines, inserting our own knowledge of the wider picture as their relationship blossoms. In the period in which this correspondence was written Churchill was working long hours in the War Rooms and travelling hundreds of miles to see the British troops and, amongst others, US President Roosevelt and Soviet Premier Stalin. Germany and Russia fought at Stalingrad; the Allies invaded Italy and then North-West Europe; flying bombs fell on London, and the atomic bomb was dropped on Hiroshima. Yet these events are not to the foreground; instead, they form the backdrop to the letters at the heart of the book, which, apart from being a personal history of the time, offer a key cultural site for the construction of the self in wartime Britain.

Olive first met Major Neil Margerison in late October 1942, when he was working at the War Office. They became engaged in December 1943, hoping to marry a few weeks after her return from a trip she had to make for her work. Neil could not know that Olive was leaving London for Cairo and then going on to the important ‘Three Power’ Conference in Teheran; but she was due back some time in January 1944. However, before they could meet again, he was posted abroad with no date set for his return, and, apart from one brief unexpected encounter, they would not see each other for two long years. Their correspondence, therefore, became the only way they might grow to know and understand each other more intimately, and it is here that the particular interest lies. The letters show how both Olive and Neil developed, emotionally, socially, and personally, throughout this troubled period. The mode of writing is concerned, chatty, sometimes intimate, guarded about work and politics, but, above all, the language and phrasing are friendly, loving and longing, and distinctively of that time. Their individuality and sense of self are strongly asserted through an epistolary mode which is their sole means of expression and communication.

Part One in this volume tells first of Olive’s early years when her grandfather did all he could to form her into a young ‘lady’ with the necessary social grace and competence to get on in the world. Having made it himself into the milieu of the rich and famous, with their luxurious lifestyle, he wanted the best for his granddaughters and thus involved himself in their upbringing and training. Extracts from his letters indicate how important his role was to be in preparing Olive for society, and they show how generously he took on what he must have considered the greater responsibilities of a grandparent. For example, he paid for schooling and clothes, told her to practise her handwriting (29 March 1934), to offer proper apology if she refused an invitation (29 April 1936) and he encouraged her to buy a book on etiquette (7 March 1936), and work on her deportment. His influence was extensive, so much so that Olive, benefiting life-long from this early training, never forgot how much she owed to him. Part One also relates her search for employment, the start of the war and her subsequent arrival in the Cabinet War Rooms, from where she eventually moved upstairs to become personal assistant to General Hollis. Life in the underground bunker is related in some detail, and Olive’s recollections of being a young woman living in London during this time are fully described, based on later recollections. We also hear of her meeting with Neil, their decision to become engaged, the parting when she left London, and his posting abroad, ending with his sad letter of farewell (3 December 1943).

Part Two focuses on Olive’s social life and wartime experience working for General Hollis, seen not only through letters exchanged with Neil but also through a complementary narrative which gives details of the main stages of the war, including the Allied conferences where she was a delegate. Olive accompanied Hollis, who was travelling with Winston Churchill, to Cairo, Teheran and Marrakech (December/January 1943–1944), Quebec (September 1944), and Berlin/Potsdam (July 1945), and there are letters charting her progress and travels, including a long one following the second Quebec Conference sent to Neil’s mother (24 October 1944). The correspondence then focuses mainly on her social world in London, and on her developing relations with his family, and we hear something of Neil’s life in Italy, where he met Pope Pius XII (6 July 1944) after Rome was liberated. The emotional upheavals of waiting and unfulfilled desire become increasingly evident, especially after his posting to Austria in 1945, and Part Two closes with lengthy letters about his search for employment and their future together. She was hoping to find him a job through her contact with General Hollis (27 August and 2 September 1945), whilst he worried that she might not settle down (26 September 1944), and he was anxious about earning enough to live on (3 May 1945). A Postscript tells of his return and their marriage in December 1945, and then briefly relates what happened to Olive and Neil from 1946 onwards.

Because of her exceptional status Olive could not fully share things with her new fiancé. Little could be said about work, nothing about the political world, and no mention made of where she was or might be going, but she did write to keep her love alive. An avid correspondent, she was constantly aware of the Official Secrets Act, signed by her when she entered the War Rooms. Everyone had to be alert to careless talk, and she particularly had to be wary. Writing often to keep in touch with Neil she was always trying to find ways of letting him know how she was, and how much she loved and missed him, but without giving too much away. Her letters are, therefore, full of personal and family detail, and they delight in the affectionate concern of a lively individual. We read of her engagement with those around her, of her mother and sister, and of her social life in London and beyond, as well as of her thoughtful interests and her responses to places visited, and – above all – her desire to share these with Neil in a life together. In contrast to a diary, letters establish a dialogue as a means of communication, and, here, that dialogue is kept alive and strengthened even where distance and censorship might well have discouraged other writers.

All forms of writing were security bound, either by the Act, by official or self-censorship, or by common understanding. No one in Olive’s office was allowed to write a diary, nor make notes, nor write a book; and when she was first appointed she was told never even to read a newspaper, nor to think about what she might hear or be told. Her world was simply different and she must not think about it but just get on with whatever she was given to do. Anyone who contravened this risked being moved on or perhaps imprisoned. Her training was such that she did not gossip, so even when writing during quieter moments in the office she said nothing about what was happening at work, although she could happily refer to her colleagues and the fun they had together (from the ‘Workhouse’, 9 February 1945). Neil used to complain later that she was too quiet in a social situation, but she put it down to that early formation, and was, in fact, a good conversationalist and known for her sense of humour. Her liveliness comes across in the correspondence, and is complimented by Neil who appreciated what he termed her ‘bubbling effusion of high spirits’ (14 June 1944).

Other people’s letters inevitably make engaging reading, for no other literary product can project us so intimately into the personal lives of their writers, nor provide us with such an immediate sense of the past. It is in the human detail we begin to touch the real texture of the times. Olive’s letters are significant for the re-evaluation of women’s experiences in wartime Britain, and they shed some light on relations at a senior level in the Cabinet War Rooms. She did in many ways have a ‘good war’, and there is a sense of regret as life quietened down once the nerve centre of operational planning was no longer in use (31 August 1945). Privately, she took an intellectually engaged interest in Neil’s inner life, commenting on his reading and poetry, and responding to his artistic sensibility. She is revealed as a self-conscious writer, able to pluck a story from the minutiae of life and tell it with wit. Publicly, she was an extremely efficient and successful clerical officer, who carried considerable responsibility in confidential government affairs, while, at the same time, she remained a lively girlish typist, with lots of friends and simply thrilled with all that happened to her. As if balancing between her formal secretarial activity and her wholehearted enthusiasm for a good time, she wrote about the diverse nature of life, and, amongst the joyful, excited celebrations of her private and social world there are, nevertheless, strong hints of the stresses and strains of absence and sadness. There is here both fantasy and clear-sighted realism. The Olive Christopher revealed in the letters is a complex woman, with a strong sense of her own identity which she was unwilling to lose in that of her fiancé, although she was ready to make a full commitment to him. A ‘true’ voice emerges as we read her letters in response to his, thus increasing our understanding of her efforts to fulfil and to empower herself as a thinking subject in her different roles. Clearly she revelled in the fact of Neil’s talent and the potential it offered for their future prospects, but it is evident that the construction of her self was paramount. What emerges, therefore, as most distinct in Olive’s letters as opposed to Neil’s is the presence of gentle assumptions about a passive way of life. She could write, for example, about objects in her bedroom (3 October 1944) and the tranquillity of her grandfather’s house (11 November 1944), or visiting friends with children (27 August 1945), and thus anticipate her future as Neil’s wife; even though, at the same time, she was in fact quietly getting on with her considerably active engagement in the War Rooms, silently observing the action coming to a close under Churchill’s skilful government. General Hollis relied on her and she stayed working with him until Neil’s demobilisation in March 1946, when she finally became the fulltime housewife she had long anticipated.

Olive and Neil were fortunate in being able to exchange many of their letters through the useful facility of the diplomatic bag, though some were sent by normal air and sea mail. Neil occasionally spoke of hold-ups, and groups of letters arriving at once. There were inevitable delays, and mention is made of not having heard from each other for some time. The letters are placed here in the chronological order in which they were written, but, because of delays, they do not necessarily follow on from each other in terms of content; it is not hard, though, to make the necessary connections. Olive generally wrote from work, or from her grandfather’s house ‘The Brackens’ at Dormans Park in Sussex. She seldom addressed the letters from her mother’s home in Croydon where she lived when not sleeping in the War Rooms dormitory. She usually wrote at length, and one letter (29 September 1944) continued through three airmail covers. There are only twenty-five of her letters extant, dating from 12 February 1944 to 18 September 1945, many being lost in transit. Fifteen of these are airmail, and mainly typed. They are all to Neil, except two to his mother (12 February 1944; 24 October 1944) and one from Potsdam to her colleague, Jacquey (23 July 1945). There is some repetition between this and another sent not long after to Neil, but I have left in both as the tone and content differ interestingly between writing to a friend and to her fiancé.

Neil also was a good correspondent, although for a time in Italy he had the use of only one air lettercard a week. As he wrote to his parents as well as Olive she heard from him just fortnightly for a while. In the period immediately after being wounded in Italy (Summer, 1944) he wrote almost daily, though without telling her what had really happened. He sometimes drew small, usually humorous illustrations (4 October 1944), and occasionally enclosed his own poems and songs. He also wrote at length about the mundane life of the mess, though he rarely touched on what he was doing, but his emotional response to the bombardment of Monte Cassino is evident (6 July 1944; 13 October 1944), and there is one exception where he could tell of an ammunitions crisis which was already in the public domain (18 April 1945). The earlier letters are handwritten, both sea and airmail. Those from Austria are typed. Olive kept ninety-nine of his letters, dated from 14 May 1943 through to 23 February 1946, of which I have included thirty-two. They are particularly selected to balance Olive’s, and to offer the developing dialogue and shared concern for a future together, which never seemed in doubt despite the long separation. I have omitted sections that are not directly relevant to Olive’s own story, and, to avoid interrupting the narrative flow, annotation is brief.

Many times over the years Olive began to record her story and wrote down ideas, memos, lists, or typed brief passages that now show several false starts. Extracts from some of these are included, such as a record of the events immediately preceding and following the Marrakech episode with Winston Churchill (January 1944), and transcripts from an interview given in 2001. She carefully stored papers, pictures, and other ephemera of the period, including the grim souvenir of a piece of Hitler’s red marble desk, picked up from the floor of the ruined Berlin Chancellery. Her prize possession is a signed photograph of Churchill himself. Neil had told her many times that she should write her memoir, and even early on, in his letter of 4th October 1944, he recognised how exceptional her experience had been:

I read your news with the same attitude that one adopts when reading “Alice in Wonderland” – it all sounded so utterly fantastic … When I came across a casual reference to ‘walking down Broadway’ I damn nearly subsided with a contented gurgle beneath the desk. You are a lucky blighter, cherub, & to say that I am green with envy inadequately describes my reactions. One thing you simply must realise is, that you will NOW WRITE A BOOK; perhaps some fine day I may be allowed to illustrate it. Your experiences are outstanding whether you accept them simply as a travel record, or whether you can go much higher and relate them historically to the progress of the war and as evidence of a group of nations establishing what we all hope to be the basis of a new and better order. Yours is the rare opportunity of meeting these peoples, seeing their cities, watching their enthusiasms, noting the conduct and attitude of our own representatives, being able to describe it all in terms of intimate example & detail which in time implies history. Hell! I wish I could see you & help. There’s nothing I would like more than to settle down in a deep chair by the fireside, and listen to your story.

It is indeed intriguing to come across such a record, and Olive’s letters and memorabilia place her story apart from those of her close friends and colleagues Joan Bright Astley and Elizabeth (Layton) Nel, whose own earlier accounts are here drawn on, as are some of the better known diaries and letter collections of the more famous players of the time. The story is also supported by recollections garnered through more recent discussions with the author. The reader is able to recall the significant events of the period whilst sharing in the friendly intimacy of this couple, and it is here in the small gestures of an ordinary romance that we begin to get close to what it must have been like during those momentous years.

The illustrations include letter facsimiles, photographs, passes, and a lavish dinner menu from Chateau Frontenac, Quebec. They are deliberately mixed, being chosen to highlight certain extraordinary features of Olive’s own varied experience during the war. All, except three, are still treasured in her home, but she always felt they should go into the public record and the material will go into the archives of the Imperial War Museum. The Second World War is of course well documented, and the select bibliography offers simply the texts consulted for this book. It is, however, through a visit to the Churchill Museum and Cabinet War Rooms themselves that one can learn most about the life led by Olive and her colleagues in that now famous underground bunker in central London.

Olive’s and Neil’s letters offer perpetual life to their authors, for correspondence, with its diverse worlds recorded and refashioned for the recipient, gives open expression to the conscious efforts of those who seek to inform others of their own thoughts, feelings and actions. Although Olive has given short interviews to her local media, was presented to Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II at the opening of the Churchill Museum in February 2005, and is one of the few remaining veterans of the War Rooms who knew and worked for Churchill, this is the first time her correspondence and memorabilia have fully come to light, brought together to illustrate a rich wartime narrative.

Part One: 1915-43 Early years

‘Nothing seems to have changed. It’s very like it was then’.

It was February 2005 and Mrs Olive Margerison MBE once again made her way through the underground corridors of the Cabinet War Rooms, near Clive Steps, King Charles Street, London.1 Although she had not used the old entrance from Great George Street she sensed that nothing had changed in sixty years; it seemed as if the renovations for the CWR museum had hardly altered things at all. The restoration was meticulous and it simply looked and sounded the same. She remembered how she had felt then and heard the echoes of distant voices, the tap of machines and the ringing of telephones. It all came back: the exhaustion of work, but the fun and the camaraderie, the fug of smoke, the bright lights and varnished walls, the sound of typewriters and the voices of young marines. There was the fear of air raids, anxiety about forces overseas, and always the sense that everyone was struggling together to save the country. Winston Churchill2 had led his team down here to a great victory, and she, Miss Olive Christopher,3 had played her own small part. She felt very proud, and yet humbled by the surroundings and all they had meant to her and the others who had been there during the Second World War.

How was it that a young secretary such as herself had come to work in this famous underground bunker? What had enabled her to take up this special career all those years ago?

1915-30

Olive Christopher was born in Bromley, Kent, on 12 February 1915. Her father, Herbert, was a ‘will o’ the wisp’ figure and a bit of a rebel. His older brother Charles died when Olive was three, leaving Herbert as the only heir to Grandfather William’s business in hotel and catering. But he never wanted to join him, and was told he must therefore have a trade. His choice was interior decorating and he became apprenticed to a high-class firm. Herbert talked about it often to his daughter when she was young. He loved the work, and enjoyed being part of a team. For example, they had redecorated the ballroom at Osterley House, where he worked on the ceiling having been taught to gold leaf.4 He was undoubtedly skilled, but unfortunately careless with money, and never did what his parents wanted. According to Olive later, it made his father exasperated and consequently hard on him.

Whilst still quite young Herbert married Margaret Brightwell, a talented singer and pianist, whose mentor was Frank Bridge.5 She would one day play at the Dome in Brighton although she never made a career in music. They opened an antique shop in Bromley High Street, advising on interiors and selling furniture, some of which went into Chartwell, Winston Churchill’s country home. Much later Herbert told his daughter: ‘I had to show father what I could do for myself’. Although father and son were never amicable, Grandfather William liked his daughter-in-law and loved the children who brought him great joy. He became very involved with them – as much as he could around his work commitments – and he devoted himself to their secure upbringing in the light of their father’s mercurial nature. His considerable influence on Olive, as she grew up under his protective guidance, was instrumental in preparing her for the life she would eventually lead. In fact, he was to have a profound effect upon her development and formation, and her ability to fit in with the world of the War Office and Cabinet War Rooms was largely as a result of the social training she had received under his benevolent direction.

When Olive was five years old the family moved to Paris.6 Her father was a good cook and he decided to acquire a business there. Grandfather William said he should have his wife and daughter with him so they all went, and Herbert opened a restaurant in the Place de l’Odéon. Margaret liked Paris, and it was a happy childhood there for little Olive; but at the end of 1922 they came back to England and her sister Enid was born in January 1923. Herbert returned alone to Paris, having taken on a new partner, but this unfortunately proved to be a disastrous move. The business floundered, and when the restaurant was sold the partner disappeared with the proceeds forcing Herbert into bankruptcy. His pride was such that he would not turn to his father for help, and from that time on never had any contact with him, although Grandfather William maintained a regular link with his daughter-in-law. Olive forever felt sad that they never got on.

Herbert’s return to England to join his family was not a success. Having declared that he was really in love with a French girl, his wife – a rather withdrawn, austere woman – was, perhaps not unnaturally, cold and unwelcoming, and life became very unsettled. The family moved to Broadstairs where Margaret opened a guesthouse, and Olive went by tram to school in Cliftonville. Herbert, however, did not like the town, so they moved again to Poole in Dorset, where Olive won a scholarship to the grammar school. She was not there long for in 1928 the family moved again, to Bournemouth. Here Olive, aged thirteen, successfully passed an entrance examination to Bournemouth School for Girls, where her fees were paid by her grandfather.

Olive was always on excellent terms with Grandfather William whom she frequently visited as she grew older, later accompanied by her sister. Separated from his wife, William lived alone at ‘The Brackens’, a smallish house with beautiful garden and woods in extensive grounds, close to his business in Dormans Park, near East Grinstead, Sussex. He was a self-made man who had worked extremely hard all his life to build an immensely successful business from quite simple beginnings, when he had pushed a cart around with cooked food to sell at race meetings. Not only was he owner of the Dormans Park Hotel, but, more importantly, he was the founding director of Letheby and Christopher Ltd., High Class Caterers and Confectioners (with the Royal Warrant), caterers to Royal Ascot and the Royal Agricultural Society of England, as well as to many other functions.7 Its offices were based in the centre of East Grinstead, over the Whitehall restaurant and ballroom and Radio City cinema (a magnificent copy of the one in New York), which he also owned.8 William Christopher was a man of great warmth, considerable force and tremendous energy, but also with a strong sense of duty and a work ethic second to none. He had a huge range of contacts and was a member of the Founders’ Company in the City of London. The Cheltenham Christopher Cup, named after him, gives due recognition to his importance in one of the main events of the social calendar. It is, therefore, perhaps unsurprising that he was disappointed in his remaining son’s lack of ambition and apparent fecklessness, and it may go some way to explain his exceptionally close interest in the upbringing and formation of his two bright granddaughters. He wished to see them develop into young ladies like those he saw at Ascot, and he aimed to set them up well in good marriages. He kept an eye on their schooling, he paid attention to their dress, he ensured they had good manners and that their deportment was correct, he helped them financially, and kept in contact via correspondence. Because he travelled often to different events around Britain he was always a fund of stories about the rich and famous, and the girls enjoyed visiting him at ‘Brackens’.

Olive’s grandmother, in contrast, was a bit of a martinet. She lived with their only daughter Daisy, first in Sidcup, Kent, then in a large house at Elphinstone Road, Hastings, Sussex. She died there in 1930, and Daisy eventually had to leave when war was declared, moving to ‘Brackens’ where she would feel safer if and when the Germans invaded. Olive was a little scared of her grandmother but adored Aunt Daisy, and loved seeing her when she visited ‘Brackens’ for its house parties, especially the large ones during ‘the season’. Her grandfather grew all the strawberries for Ascot in his own gardens, and Olive once went with him into the Royal Enclosure where the fruit was much admired. The famous Mrs Topham, owner of Aintree Racecourse, was a regular houseguest at the weekend party before Ascot.

When Olive was fifteen she left school and the family moved to London. Her mother ran a small hotel in Anerley, East Croydon, and Olive attended South London Secretarial College for a year. Herbert and his father were still not on good terms, but her grandfather was kind to his granddaughters, though sometimes, it was felt, perhaps not always as generous as he might have been! On one occasion he said to Olive: ‘I want you to buy yourself a nice frock - your Aunt Daisy recently bought a very pretty frock at Marshall and Snelgrove’. He gave her a cheque for three pounds, nineteen shillings and elevenpence, which, to Olive, seemed a huge sum; but her mother was cross, as there was actually not enough for the shoes, stockings, and handbag needed to complete the outfit.

Grandfather William, concerning himself particularly with his granddaughters’ personal conduct, used to send instructions in letters, always signing ‘Yours affectionately, W. Christopher’. For example, on 29 March 1934, when Olive was already nineteen so out of school and into employment, he nevertheless wrote:

With regard to your handwriting, it is very poor indeed – I can see that with a little practice you could easily write quite nicely, which is very important from a social point of view. No matter how polished you may be so far as education is concerned, bad handwriting gives the impression of being illiterate. Take my advice and attend an Evening School to learn writing & away from business, write as much as you can. You can buy a Copy Book & try to imitate the writing, this causes you to form your letters properly, & you soon get to write properly, & you will be pleased with yourself.9

With her secretarial training Olive was of course an efficient typist and clearly found typing quicker, so a couple of months later he wrote:

Darling Olive, when you communicate with me again, please write the letter, as I shall like to see how you have got on with your handwriting. I am pleased to hear from you & it will give me great joy to have you with me for an hour or two.

He could sometimes be cross with her, though, for not thinking of others. For example, on 29 April 1936 he wrote:

Darling Olive,

When you find you are unable to keep a suggested appointment, always state the reason, no matter to whom it may be, do not just baldly write that you “cannot keep the appointment”, but write “I am sorry I cannot be with you for lunch as I am still in my engagement, & do not leave until next Saturday, but I can meet you etc”. Had you explained how you were situated I should have understood, moreover you have delayed replying to my letter until this morning…. You young people are too casual, but I am too busy a man for that sort of thing, & if you want consideration, you must be considerate yourself, by giving decisive, prompt replies, & the reasons for not being able to do certain things.

I will let you know when you can bring your young friend to see me.10

Yours affectionately,

W. Christopher

He followed this in May expressing further displeasure:

I quite understand that it was impossible for you to meet me on the Friday as I suggested, & having regard to your explanation I should not expect it, but I was under the impression that you were doing nothing, & thinking that I put the day aside for you, & thought you ought to have made an effort to come & that is why I wrote that you ought always to give a reason why you cannot keep an appointment, whether with me or anyone else. Never write that you cannot keep an appointment without first kindly stating the reason why you cannot do so.

As Olive grew older he began to invite her to accompany him, in place of his absent wife and daughter Daisy who was too delicate, to formal luncheons at Dormans Hotel and later to City banquets of some distinction. In May 1936 Olive received the following:

I understand you have been able to get a nice little dress for next Monday, and I am looking forward to having you with me at the banquet. I gave you, in a former letter, the particulars as to the train you are to catch at London Bridge, due at Dormans Station 1.11 & I will send a car to meet you & bring you to the Brackens. After dinner we shall return to the Brackens & you will leave Tuesday morning. I think you had better let me know what time you have to be at business Tuesday, so that I can arrange accordingly. I enclose the receipt for Enid’s schooling which please give to your mother…. You must let me know of any expenses you may have in connection with this matter.

Accompanying her grandfather to banquets became more frequent; Olive was well known by the society attending them and her role increased in importance. A letter from him in January 1936 states: