Basement 3

The war rooms, rather cramped and probably claustrophobic when there were air raids, were well presented with a good number of objects and displays, some of these last being rather hi-tech, at least to my untutored eye. One felt one was getting a good impression of what these rooms were like, what they would have been like to be be in, when they were in use, more than fifty years ago.

One object which made me pause was a copy of the standing instructions, each page enshrined in plastic but with the whole made up into a booklet. Very like the stuff that I remember from the days before word processors. I was interested in the plans of the rooms which were included, having been involved in the preparation of digital plans of the whole Great George Street complex as part of the run up to their privatisation, although I did not know it at the time. An interesting excursus into the fascinating world of digital drawing packages, the likes of AutoCad, then the market leader, although not the package which we had lighted upon. Also in the sections covering what to do in the event of ground attack. We were clearly allowing for all eventualities.

Another was Winston's watch, made for the 4th Duke of Marlborough, complete with distinctive watch chain.

It being very much Winston's place, perhaps wrong to carp, but I do note in passing his bad record on colonial matters, where, even by the standards of his time, his blimpish & racist utterances & actions are a something of a counterweight to his subsequent record in the second world war. See reference 1. The nearest to criticism that I saw in the war rooms was the display about the Gallipoli campaign - on which my understanding is that it was not such a bad idea and might have worked had we got stuck in fast, rather than dithering for months while the Turks built up their defences on the commanding heights.

One of the hi-tech displays was a long illuminated table, perhaps twenty or thirty feet long and about four feet wide. Along the sides were touch strips which enabled one to open up displays for particular days or months. All very clever, but so clever that most people spent their time working out how to work the displays, rather than giving what was displayed much of their time or attention. A risk the curators have to take with this sort of thing; you need to make it clever enough to attract but not so clever as to distract.

Lots of structural steel was visible, some from Dorman Long of Middlesborough. I wondered about how it came to be worth getting the name of the foundry cast into large steel girders. One sees larger versions of such names in the steel of the turbine hall of Tate Modern, although I think the steel there was Scottish rather than English. At one point, there was even a wooden companionway, the sort of thing you get in ships, down to the living quarters of the sub-basement. At another, an expanse of herring-bone pine parquet, varnished a dark brown, which I do not remember at all from days at the other end of the building. Perhaps a war-room special, for the benefit of all the top-brass resident at that time.

The close atmosphere made me a bit sleepy, so after a bit I found a quiet corner to sit down in and take a break. To wake up to find two middle aged ladies peering at me (from close range) in a very concerned way, patting my face to bring me back to life. I noticed a few sympathetic older males in the background, who looked as if they were thinking that a bit of a snooze was not such a bad idea.

Somewhere along the way there was a wooden board onto which wooden boardlets for donors were attached. It looked as if the size of the boardlet was proportional to the size of your donation.

The place was more crowded than I expected, a mixture of Londoners and holiday makers, these last from home and abroad. At least some Germans and some Japanese. Lots of people standing around with audio guides jammed into their ears, resulting in a slight hum sounding throughout. And as one expects in an attraction of this sort, a shop and a café, this last including another older gent. taking a time out. He explained that having been bombed out of his home during the war in question, he was not that enthusiastic about this sort of thing, the purpose of his visit being to accompany a son-in-law.

After the event, I remembered about the rather larger bunker at the other end of Horse Guards and realised that I did not know what it was called. A little work with google revealed that it was the Admiralty Citadel, something to do with secure communications for the Admiralty, privatised in the 1990's, but still in use at the time that the article I read about it was written. Best known for its often creeper covered walls. Illustrated above.

Reference 1: http://www.independent.co.uk/news/uk/politics/not-his-finest-hour-the-dark-side-of-winston-churchill-2118317.html.