During the Second World War, there were an estimated 250 signals intelligence (Sigint) sites across the UK from as far south as Cornwall to as far north as the Orkneys.
Many important sites are now in danger of disappearing, either being demolished for housing or simply being left to decay, and their significance is being lost to history.
Dave Abrutat, the official historian at GCHQ, is on a mission to preserve this history before it is lost and the folk memories are forgotten.
Bletchley Park, the home of wartime codebreaking, is one of the best preserved and most famous sites, but it represents only seven years of GCHQ’s history.
Abrutat estimates that since the First World War, tens of thousands of people have worked in signals intelligence and communications security in organisations as diverse as the Post Office, the Admiralty, the Royal Signals and the Foreign Office, and US Airforce sites such as Chicksands in Bedfordshire, known for its “elephant cage” radio receiver (pictured above).
“You know, it’s a huge story, and it’s the richest story in the world, and we have got to look after it,” Abrutat tells Computer Weekly.
Preserving signals intelligence and security
Abrutat is the driving force behind a charity that aims to preserve the UK’s signals intelligence and communications security history.
The National Signals Intelligence and Security Trust (NSIST) will fill a gap by helping to record and preserve archives, folk memories and historic sites that fall outside the remit of existing bodies.
Chicksands Priory was used as ‘Y’ station during the Second World War and later became the site of the US Airforce interception station targeted on the Soviet Union, known as the ‘elephant cage’, during the cold war. Source: GCHQ
Although GCHQ has a department of four people working in its historical archives, it does not have the funding or resources to preserve or manage the nation’s signals intelligence and communications security history.
Abrutat has pulled together what he calls a “coalition” of volunteers to run the charity, and hopes to attract sponsorship from businesses and grant-awarding bodies.
People who are interested can sign up to the NSIST website for £10 a year to receive newsletters and access articles and rare photographs about the history of the UK’s communications and signals intelligence operations.
The charity’s remit covers more than the preservation of historic radio interception sites. The history of communications security, cyber security, and even the millennium bug that threatened to bring the world’s computers to a halt in 2000, feature in its newsletters.
“I am essentially doing all that in my spare time, so I am working seven days a week,” he says. “How sustainable that is, I don’t know, but I am driven by the passion and enthusiasm I have for heritage.”
I am doing all [the NSIST charity work] in my spare time, so I am working seven days a week. How sustainable that is, I don’t know, but I am driven by the passion and enthusiasm I have for heritage Dave AbrutatGCHQ historian
Abrutat is the author of two books on the history of signals intelligence. His first, Vanguard, revealed the little-known signals intelligence and reconnaissance operations that made the D-Day landings possible.
His second book, Radio War, tells the story of the secret army of volunteer radio operators – the Radio Security Service – that monitored German intelligence signals traffic during the Second World War.
Piecing together this secret history involves painstaking detective work, gathering information from public and private archives and newspaper libraries, and talking to people who have worked in the services.
Abrutat has found that important signals intelligence material that should be in the National Archives, often, inexplicably, has not been preserved.
“Sometimes there is nothing. It’s probably just been destroyed, and that history is gone,” he says. “It’s mind-boggling that we would do that.”
Sandybed Lane
Abrutat grew up in the north-east coastal town of Scarborough. The town, now the home of a GCHQ outpost, lays claim to being the longest continually serving signals intelligence site in the world.
Scarborough’s original wireless telegraphy station was set up on Sandybed Lane by the Admiralty in 1912. During the First World War, radio operators intercepted German naval messages, which were then sent to the Admiralty for decoding.
Sketch of the wireless station at Sandybed Lane, Scarborough, published in the Mercury newspaper in January 1912
The station’s direction finders were able to locate German ships by triangulating their position from radio transmissions. During the Second World War, Sandybed Lane tracked German battleship Bismark, enabling it to be destroyed by an RAF plane.
Abrutat had no idea about the history of Sandybed Lane when he was growing up in the area.
“The fact that one of the most important [signals intelligence] sites was just literally around the corner from where I used to live sparked my interest,” he says. “It’s disappeared from the consciousness of the community, and it’s a site that the town should be very proud of.”
When he began researching Sandybed Lane, Abrutat found there was very little information in GCHQ, the Admiralty and other government archives.
A chance encounter with a volunteer at a library led him to find descriptions of the site and photographs of its staff in local newspaper archives.
Bob, the station mascot at Sandybed Lane, was awarded an ‘iron cross’ by station staff after running away under fire from a German ship
The station’s mascot was a dog called Bob, who was said to be skilled at climbing ladders and sending Morse code, Abrutat discovered. Bob ran away when the town was attacked by a gunboat in 1914, and as a joke received an ‘iron cross’ for bravery from station staff.
“One of the reasons we want to create this charity is to instil within local communities the sense of community pride in what happens at these sites, some of which have long since gone, some of which there are archaeological remains, some of which still exist,” he says.
Disappearing history
Much of the special equipment developed for signals intelligence and secure communications no longer survives. The Colossus machines – the first semi-programmable digital computers that were built at Bletchley Park to break the German Lorenz code – were destroyed after the war to preserve their secrecy.
Other equipment has simply become obsolete over time, thrown away or recycled for spare parts. It’s rare to find equipment tucked away in a cupboard that could be given to a museum, says Abrutat.
“I regularly find media in our archives – for example, reel-to-reel tapes – but we haven’t got the kit to listen to them after things were thrown away decades ago,” he says.
Beaumanor Hall
NSIST also has plans for one of the best-preserved sites outside Bletchley Park. Beaumanor Hall in Leicestershire, a wireless interception or Y station, played a vital role in gathering radio intelligence during the Second World War.
Beaumanor Hall in Leicestershire, a wireless interception or ‘Y’ station, is one of the best preserved Sigint sites outside of Bletchley Park
More than 1,500 people worked there. Intercept personnel stationed in buildings disguised as cottages, barns and stables transcribed encrypted German and Italian messages. The intercepts were recorded by hand and sent by motorcycle courier to the Bletchley Park codebreaking centre.
The charity plans to work with Leicestershire County Council to preserve the buildings at the site and to remove asbestos from the roof of the main operations building so that it can be opened to visitors.
There are also plans to fund an archaeological dig. At the end of the war, according to local lore, the war office dumped signals equipment in underground icehouses on the estate and buried it. Recently, a World War Two motorcycle was found on the site.
“There’s never been any archaeology done,” says Abrutat. “There could be [radio] receivers, direction-finding equipment … we don’t know.”
Whaddon Village
For Abrutat, one of the most important historic Sigint sites, and perhaps one of the least known, is in a small village in Cambridgeshire.
Although Whaddon is a tiny settlement, it became one of the most important hubs for signals traffic for Britain and its allies during the Second World War.
From there, a transmitter at Windy Ridge received “ultra” intelligence sent over a teleprinter wire from nearby Bletchley Park and disseminated it over the airwaves to commanders in the field.
The Secret Intelligence Service, MI6, operated from the grounds of Whaddon Hall, providing radio communications services to British embassies and agents of the Special Operations Executive working in occupied Europe.
Codebreakers at Bletchley Park
Rare wartime footage of MI6 officers working at Whaddon Hall and the only known footage linked to the codebreaking operations at Bletchley Park were discovered in 2020 and provide a unique historical record of the people who worked there.
“This was one of the most important sites, not just on a national level but at an international level. It’s a small village, but it became one of the hubs for Bletchley Park and British and allied Sigint during the Second World War,” says Abrutat.
By working with the Parish council, local landowners, military and archaeological societies, NSIST has plans for an archaeological survey of four sites around the village.
There are also plans to run cyber security outreach programmes that could combine training in cyber security with tours of historic sites.
“You then educate the next generation, so you keep the flame burning in the local community about what went on in their town,” he says.
National collection
One of Abrutat’s aims is to build a national heritage collection that will conserve and preserve historical records of signals intelligence and communications security, both classified and unclassified.
GCHQ’s small team of historians fulfils that role as best it can, but the organisation doesn’t have the resources or the money to make conservation a main priority.
“We almost need to divorce GCHQ out of it and potentially use the charity to get in proper conservation specialists to manage the collection,” he says.
The GCHQ historian says one of the things he has learned through his research is that there are deposits of archival material “all over the place”.
Abrutat’s book on the Radio Security Service took years of work as he pieced material together from multiple sources.
“If you want to try and pull a narrative together about just that one single story, you have to go everywhere, all across the country. Some are in private archives, some in the National Archives, some in GCHQ,” he says.
Although a curated national collection is some years away, Abrutat is optimistic he can secure the grants and sponsorship to make it happen.
Spy museum
Patricia Moon
Patricia Moon, a global technology sales strategist who has volunteered as a trustee of NSIST, developed an interest in technology at a young age.
Brought up on Langley Airforce Base in Virginia, many of her friends, relatives and neighbours worked for the military or were members of the intelligence community.
She says NSIST is about more than preserving historic sites, it’s about preserving the stories of people who worked in intelligence and security, and preserving their expertise for future generations.
She would like to see NSIST play a role in developing a spy museum in the UK, perhaps modelled on the International Spy Museum in Washington DC.
“It would be a scientific space for younger generations interested in technology, for the community at large and for future generations to understand just how hard some of these unsung heroes worked for so many decades,” she says.
Seeking volunteers
NSIST had a low-key launch in February 2025, when some 75 people, including many current or former members of GCHQ, the armed forces, local firms and high-tech businesses, gathered for drinks and canapes in Cheltenham.
Jack Marley is founder of PM3, a Cheltenham-based cyber security company that helped to sponsor NSIST’s low-key launch. He has a keen interest in history.
“We don’t really do anything to formally protect our heritage in this space at the moment, so NSIST is the first big effort to look at signals and look at how intelligence works and how we protect that, along with the rest of our associated heritage,” he tells Computer Weekly.
In addition to preserving historic sites, he says it is important to keep a record of how people worked and the processes they followed in the past, as that can inform solutions to today’s problems.
NSIST is a chance to preserve, conserve and celebrate an important part of the UK’s national security legacy, and record and share the personal stories of those who worked in signals intelligence and security Gaven SmithChair of the trustees, NSIST
“It would be a sort of tragedy if all these sites, processes, tools and equipment were just forgotten,” he adds.
Gaven Smith, a former director general for technology at GCHQ and now a professor of cyber security and a non-executive director at Beyond Blue and other technology focused companies, is chair of the trustees at NSIST.
“NSIST is a chance to do something amazing,” he tells Computer Weekly. “A chance to preserve, conserve and celebrate an important part of the UK’s national security legacy, and record and share the personal stories of the thousands of people who worked in signals intelligence and security.
“It is a chance to look after our history, understand that national security has always been a team sport, and never forget how the experiences of the 20th century have paved the way for the successes of today.”
Abrutat is on the look-out for other enthusiasts who are interested in history, communications security and signals intelligence to join NSIST, attend events and contribute to the organisation
“Any specialists who are deep into the communications security world or have an interest in signals intelligence would certainly be welcome,” he says.
Patricia Moon
