The Road to Station X: From Debutante Ball to Fighter-Plane Factory to Bletchley Park, a Memoir of One Woman's Journey Through World War Two

by Sarah Baring

To be confronted at any time by a converging mass of people is bewildering and I couldn’t think what I was doing and had to put a brave show of determination and hope no one would notice my knees knocking together.

true tragedy was self-inflicted.

Friedrich Nietzsche, who sounded pretty potty to me. He had rejected Christianity and moral values. Possibly ill health had warped his mind. He was influenced by Wagner, whom he was close to, but obsessed by his domineering sister who was engrossed in keeping the purity of the Teutonic race and wanted him to join her in a remote part of South America. Despite his totalitarian views he refused the offer of an undefiled life in the Brazilian jungle and spent his later years in northern Italy.

The Germans still remained convinced that there would be other landings and they stuck firmly to their idea that our objective was the Pas-de-Calais. The Double-Cross System continued to be effective with captured enemy spies having been “TURNED” to broadcast what we instructed them to do. The R.A.F. compounded this deception by flying over Boulogne and Calais, dropping slivers of tinfoil to baffle the German radar into thinking that the invasion fleet was headed in that direction.

Another day of rejoicing on 24th August was the reopening of the London theatres, which had been closed during the V1 flying bomb offensive. Those of us owed some leave dashed up to London and met at the Shaftesbury Theatre. I cannot remember what the play was about, which was a pity because it was quite an occasion to sit in a public place without fear of reprisal from overhead.

The consequence of this disorientated thinking was to be the death of his finest soldier, Field Marshal Rommel. On 14th October 1944 Rommel was visited at his home near Ulm by two Nazi henchmen. Perhaps this is not so surprising as his name had been linked to the July plot to assassinate Hitler. We do not know what was said during that interview, but afterwards Rommel went upstairs to see his wife. When he came down he told his son Manfred that he would be dead within a quarter of an hour. He took poison almost immediately to save his family from being arrested, the official communiqué was that he had died of wounds received from the strafing of his staff car in North Africa and was given a state funeral. Oddly enough I think most of our military personnel felt a pang of remorse at the untimely death of a brave and resolute soldier who had done nothing wrong other than to fight gallantly for his country.