Like everyone else in England we were expecting the Invasion to start fairly soon and there did seem to be a little more traffic on the French coast.  We had been told that all leave, apart from Twenty four-hour passes, was cancelled for an unspecified time. 

On the morning of June the 6th, Peggy and I were coming back from Leicester to go on the afternoon watch.  For some reason - over-sleeping I expect - we had to rush to get the bus and had not heard the radio that morning, so didn't realise the significance of the planes flying overhead with double white stripes on each wing.  When we got to Quorn the rest of the watch told us that the invasion had started that morning.  We wondered how it would affect our work.

Going into the set room, everything seemed more or less normal - more traffic than usual on the Normandy groups and the Pas de Calais was quite busy.  The Police groups were very busy, obviously lots of raids going on, but we were used to this since the start of daylight bombing.

About an hour into the watch, everything started working; even the odd groups at the back seemed to have something to natter about.  We know now of course, that Hitler refused to believe that the Normandy landings were the real invasion forces and still expected Pas de Calais to be the actual site.

For the next few weeks we had a particularly difficult time, as the Army groups changed over to random call signs instead of the ones we knew.  We had to try and recognise the sending style of the operators and connect their call signs with a new station.  Another little dodge the Germans thought up was to change frequencies without warning.  Sometimes only one station would change and if you were working on your own without a partner, you could end up listening with two sets of earphones to two separate stations - all good fun!  Luckily the Police networks kept to the same routine.  Most of the groups were busy, even on the dreaded night watches; it might have been exhausting, but at least it made the hours pass quickly.

On the 15th of June I was made up to a Full Corporal - more money!  The other corporal, Molly Cavanaugh and I shared duties off watch.  We were responsible for collecting applications for leave and getting them signed by the Officer.  Also for making out the rota for cleaning the huts - not including ourselves of course.  We had to see that everyone went on watch on time and at least looking as if they were awake.  

Another job that Molly and I shared was working 'Search' - on the No 1 set in the front left hand side of the hut.  This entailed checking on any stations that had fixed CQ times; we'd pick them up and look round to see if the operator concerned had got them - she usually raised her hand if OK.  We also had to check all the other traffic to see that nothing was being missed.

To fill in any spare time, we searched the dial to see if we could spot anything unusual, it made a break from continuous Morse.  If any operator was having difficulties with the signals being too weak, we had to pop into the aerial room and try another aerial.  Neither of us had much idea of what we were supposed to do.  I used to pull the plug out and plonk it in anywhere hoping for the best.  If it wasn't any better I'd probably put it back in the original aerial -usually it worked.

One afternoon, I was spinning the dial and came across some clear text - I thought it looked like German but I didn't get a call sign or anything to identify the station.  The supervisor had a look at the message and said he thought it was Dutch and spotted a word that meant parachutes and thought that Arnhem, spelt with a capital first letter was probably a place name.  Looking it up in the atlas he discovered it was a place in Holland.  I never did find out what the message contained as it was whipped away to Control immediately - going by despatch rider not Teleprinter.

One of the girls in our Watch had fantastic hearing - her name was Gladys but we called her Bat's Ears because she could get almost all messages even with extreme interference or jamming.  She was covering a Division somewhere in the Ardennes area for some time and one morning soon after Christmas, I think, she was told to expect a very important message sometime during our shift.  The supervisor said it would be a personal message from Hitler and he put another three operators on the same frequency to get maximum coverage.  A message did come through - very fast and horribly jammed, but Bat's Ears got over ninety percent - the other three could only manage about half.  The message was rushed out to the despatch rider and three weeks later Bat's Ears got a mention in Northern Command Orders for being awarded a Good Service Certificate.

We were never actually sure that it was a message from Hitler or if that was said to make us more alert.  However, recently, I saw a TV programme by Richard Holmes, about the Battle of the Bulge.  He said that a personal message was sent to Hitler by the General in charge of the German Forces, asking for permission to retreat.  Next day a personal answer from Hitler was received, refusing the request.  That obviously was the message Bat's Ears got - so we were useful!