William rode the trolley to the Munitions Building in the morning, an hour spent in his head, thinking about alphabets. After Elizebeth resigned, the army had given him an assistant, a former boxer with cauliflower ears. The man’s only skill was typing. If you would like to imagine the birth of the mighty National Security Agency, please visualize two men in a small room, one with a pug nose, pecking at a typewriter, the other a dandy in a suit and bow tie, smoking a pipe, wondering what his wife was up to at home, and if she was missing
