“Interested in meeting Hydra?” He glanced up at the tower. “Or would you rather…”
Her whole body relaxed, and she trotted over to him. “Hydra, please, sir.”
As they walked away, he chuckled. “Oh, did I not tell you? You are exempt from this aspect of the training. We need you in one piece.”
Giddy with relief, Dot accompanied Gerald to the series of antennae she’d noticed on the drive in. Beside those stood a building with a large entrance and very high windows. With the antennae so close, she knew that building had to contain communications equipment. Just the thought of seeing radios again had her fingers tingling with anticipation.
Gerald stopped before the building, arm outstretched. “This is where Hydra lives. Hydra is a fifteen-megahertz shortwave transmitter/receiver.”
“Fifteen megahertz, sir? I have never heard of anything like that.”
“That is because it is the only one of its kind in the entire world.” He faced her. “Hydra will be your domain.”
“M-mine?”
“Well, not entirely yours, but this will be your main station. One person is always inside, since the transmitter is manned twenty-four hours a day, three-hundred sixty-five days a year. You will rotate in eight-hour shifts. In addition, you will also work in the office with me when I require an assistant.” He pushed open the large door. “Shall we?”
Dot walked slowly into the room, taking it all in. One wall was occupied by floor-to-ceiling radios and another held different technical systems. A man sat with his back to the door, headphones on, and she longed to listen in. The specialized equipment before her, with its precise dials—most of which bumped periodically with intercepted signals—was so much more than she’d ever imagined. Hydra was a different realm, capturing voices that cried out all over the world. Now she understood the reason for the high, unreachable windows: no peeking allowed.
“You will be training with Bill Hardcastle, the genius behind Hydra,” Gerald said. “Unfortunately, he isn’t here at the moment. I am mostly thumbs when it comes to this, but I can give you an overview, anyway.” The young, bookish-looking man with the headphones glanced up, acknowledged them, then returned to his work. “We will keep out of the way of young Thomas here.”
“How was this built? The components don’t all match.”
“That’s the sweetest part of our Hydra,” Gerald said, sounding a bit like a proud father. “It was basically ‘jerry built,’ made up of bits and pieces of radio equipment collected from amateur radio operators across Canada. Everything arrived in pieces, and Bill put them together again. Over here is the work schedule—you’ll see I’ve taken the liberty of including your name, though you will still be training, of course. These are the drafting prints of the radio design in case anything should require adjustments.”
For now, Dot looked past the papers posted on the walls and leaned in, reading the dials, excited to see words and letters she knew.
“Your records show your exemplary talent in receiving messages, but also in simultaneously breaking codes. You’ll share some shifts with the codebreakers, but your primary role will be transmitting. For example, messages from the White House as well as captured German codes will be transmitted from Hydra to London.”
“So far? How?”
He gestured beyond the windows. “You’ve seen our rather unique antenna system, I gather. We call those ‘rhombic’ antennae. Three of them are strung between four telephone poles, which were donated by Ontario Hydro. The rhombic design is new. It’s very effective at covering the greatest number of frequencies possible. It can communicate through Morse code with Ottawa, New York, Washington, and London, delivering messages in less than a minute. Bill will show you everything when he returns. Any questions before then?”
“Yes, but I can’t think of them all right now. Oh wait. I do have one.” She pointed at the headphones. “How soon can I start?”
thirtyDASH— May 1943 —Fort William, Ontario
Dash sat at the table in CanCar’s dining room—which sounded so much more elegant than just calling it a mess hall—staring into space. The other girls had all gone home, but just as she was grabbing her coat, Dash had been called into Miss MacGill’s office. There, her smiling boss had presented her with her acceptance letter and invitation from the Air Transport Auxiliary.
Now, Dash’s pen hovered over a blank piece of paper. Her news felt too good to be true. As if it belonged to someone else. She had the strangest fear that if she wrote it down, it might not happen.
So much had changed since Dash had joined the Wrens, planning to be the best, but having no idea what to expect. In a way, some of what she’d learned had made her feel inadequate for the first time in her life, but she’d worked harder to make up for that. Then she’d been sent to the garage in the city where she’d been surrounded by men who didn’t want her there. Not as a mechanic, anyway.
Her experience there had been frightening, and it had shattered her confidence for a while. She’d never really understood Dot’s timid nature before then. To her shame, there had been times when Dash had thoughtof Dot’s shyness as a weakness, but that had changed. Dash had learned the wisdom of being cautious. The importance of protecting oneself rather than simply charging in.
From her despair, she had dared to dream about working at CanCar under the brilliant Miss Elsie MacGill. When she had boarded the train to Fort William, she’d been hopeful, but thanks to her incident at Eisen’s garage, more anxious than she’d ever been. What if she couldn’t handle the job? But she had. And she’d done it so well that Miss MacGill had personally referred her to the ATA.
And yet, now that she stared at the paper, wondering how to tell Dot about everything, apprehension had returned. Dash had been good at what she did at CanCar, but what about this next opportunity? What if she got there and discovered she wasn’t as good as she used to be?
If she was here, Dot would know what to say. She had gotten through more obstacles than Dash ever had. Simply leaving home had been a major accomplishment for her. She might be stuck in a dull office job now, but she’d surprised even herself by mastering that job and making friends while she was at it.
Dot would know.
Dash bent over the paper and began to write.
Hold on to your hat, Dot, because I have news! I have been accepted by the Air Transport Auxiliary! Can you believe it? I will be flying planes in the war! No, not in combat, silly. My job will be bringing planes to where they need to go, replacing downed ones and broken ones, I guess. I will learn more soon, because I am heading to England in a few weeks to start training! Are you able to come see me when I am home, packing?
She shook her head, reading her own words again. England. Flying. The war. Dash was about to do everything she never dreamed possible. The only thing she regretted was that once again, she would haveto leave so many friends behind. When she was done with Dot’s letter, she wrote to Ginny, who would share everything with Mary, she knew. As for Margie, Paulette, and Stacy at CanCar, Dash would sit them all down in the morning and give them the news in person. Would she ever see these girls again? It felt a bit like school, where all the children were herded into one place, expected to make friends with whomever they could, then set free again. Where were those friends now? She promised herself she would make an effort to see them again someday. Unlike Gus, she was determined to keep in touch and talk with them again after this was over. Because the warwouldbe over someday. And that reunion would make all the waiting worthwhile.
