It was early morning. Ray and Beverly were in his office at the University of California at Berkeley, sipping coffee and discussing their latest work. Beverly looked at Ray. "I can't believe we goofed that one!” Ray looked up from his papers. "It happens.” Bev sighed. "We were so sure we had it right. We should never have passed it along,"
Ray reassured her, "We are working with incomplete information and sometimes weak signals. We have no way to be completely sure.”
Ray and Beverly had just deciphered a Japanese message, indicating (or so they thought) an attack on American positions in New Guinea. Despite their best efforts, sometimes the intel wasn't reliable. It’s possible the intercept itself was copied incorrectly. It's possible the Japanese changed their minds.
Bev looked directly at Ray. “How much effort was wasted? A flotilla of ships, hundreds of marines, an aircraft carrier diverted, all for nothing!” Ray sighed deeply, “It wasn’t that bad, and it wasn’t the first time, and it won’t be the last. Think of it this way, your device will help prevent this from happening again.”
"Do you know what I like most about you?" Ray asked. Beverly smiled and raised an eyebrow. "My sense of humor?" Ray looked directly at her. “The way your mind works. You have a kind of insight I’ve never seen before. You look at a problem, and the solution seems to just come to you naturally, as if you always knew it.” Ray continued. “It’s a good thing, too, because when I’m near you, sometimes I find it difficult to concentrate.” He smiled, then blushed a bit. Bev smiled, then thought, “Did he just say that? I didn’t dare think…”
Ray stood up. “We just have to stick with it." Bev looked down. "Yes, but I don't see myself that way." Ray turned to face her. "You should. We don't know what happened. It may not have been our fault."
Ray and Beverly looked at the chalkboard, covered with equations and diagrams. Ray turned and regarded her. "Do you think it will work?” Bev sighed. "I hope so. I'm going to build a prototype starting next week. At least it may help us recover the signals more accurately. " Ray looked at the board again. "Yes, the weak signals they've been dealing with seem to be part of the problem. Your device should help with that."
The latest intelligence gathering efforts had shown two things. The Japanese had changed their code-and-cipher system again. Just as troubling, many of their transmissions had become too weak to be reliably transcribed. Analysts suspected that the Japanese had developed improved receiving equipment, allowing their stations to communicate at substantially lower transmitter power. The messages could still be detected by American listening posts, but too often they were buried in noise.
Ray looked at Bev. “If this works, we might finally be able to tell whether those missing characters are really missing—or just buried in the noise.” Bev perked up. “Yes, that’s the idea. And if I can preserve the keying characteristics, we may be able to identify the operator even when we can’t read the message.”
Ray crossed his arms. "Also, there's something I need to tell you. I told the OSS people about your device, and they are very interested.” The Navy’s engineers understood the problem. What they hadn’t found is Bev’s solution. Ray walked up to the chalkboard. “You need any of this?” Bev shook her head. “No, it’s all in my notes.” Ray started erasing. “I'll keep working on the code-and-cipher system. That will free you up to work on the electronics." Bev looked at him. "Thanks. I'm looking forward to finally building this thing."
Pearl Harbor — April 14, 1943
In a set of basement rooms at Pearl Harbor, casually known as “The Dungeon,” a team of cryptanalysts worked feverishly on a newly intercepted Japanese message. It had been encoded in JN-25D, the latest version of the Imperial Japanese Navy’s principal code-and-cipher system. Allied codebreakers had already recovered large portions of its additive tables.
“The Dungeon,” in the basement of Building 1, headquarters of the 14th Naval District at Pearl Harbor, housed the Navy’s Pacific cryptanalytic unit - known variously as Station HYPO and, by then, FRUPAC (Fleet Radio Unit Pacific). The place was a hive of activity. It was a large windowless space crowded with tables, boxes of punched cards and tabulating machines spilling paper. There was a single entrance with an armed Marine standing guard.
Beverly and Helen had been working side by side for weeks. Long hours, little fresh air, and far too much coffee had long since erased any distinction between day and night.
“How are you holding up?” Helen asked.
“I’d be doing a lot better with a few hours’ sleep.”
“You said that yesterday.”
“Wait, was that yesterday?”
Helen smiled. “I think so.”
They gave each other a knowing look of exhaustion. Bev got up to get some coffee. As she moved past Helen, she put her hand on Helen’s shoulder, “Want some?” “Yes, please.” Helen said.
When she sat back down, Beverly rubbed her eyes, “Can you check to see if any more groups have fallen?”
Helen stared at the figures. “Ballale… hachi-ji…”
Beverly stopped writing.
“Eight?”
Helen nodded. “That’s what it says.”
Beverly pulled another sheet toward her. “And Rabaul at six…”
She looked again at the groups.
“Then this isn’t a situation report.”
Helen looked at her.
“It’s an itinerary.”
At a nearby table, cryptanalysts Ham Wright and Tommy Dyer were bent over another set of groups. Helen walked over.
“Anything else yet?” Helen asked. Tommy looked up, “We do have a couple more groups. One indicates some kind of inspection. The other is a place and time.” “Helen thinks this may be some kind of itinerary." said Bev. Ham said, “Yes! I had the same thought.” “We’ll see.” said Bev, “You two look like you’ve been dragged behind a horse.” They chuckled. “How is it you manage to look so swell after all this, Bev?” said Tommy. “Well, swollen maybe,” said Bev. They all laughed.
She walked back to Helen, gave her a little rub between the shoulder blades. Helen smiled. “Don’t start that. I’ll get nothing done.” Bev smiled back at her.
Suddenly, Helen went very still.
Beverly noticed. “What?”
Helen didn’t answer.
“Helen?”
She turned the sheet toward Beverly and tapped one of the groups.
Beverly read it.
Neither woman spoke for several seconds.
“Are you certain?”
“No.”
Beverly looked at her.
Helen corrected herself. “Almost.”
“Could it be?” Beverly whispered.
Helen looked again at the groups.
“CINC Combined Fleet…”
Beverly stared at the sheet.
“Yamamoto.”
Helen looked at her.
“It has to be.”
Helen was already getting to her feet.
“Get Commander Holmes.”
Berkeley — October 4, 1944
“Let’s take a break. We could use a diversion. I know a great little restaurant by the beach over in The Sunset. We could go play on the beach, go for a swim and then go for dinner afterward.” Ray said. “Yes, sounds great!” said Beverly. “We’ve really had a hard time lately. We could use a little distraction. We have a lot of hard work ahead.” said Beverly.
They changed into bathing suits and drove across the Bay Bridge into San Francisco, continuing west until the city gave way to the broad sweep of Ocean Beach and the Pacific. Ray asked, “How’s your brother? Have you heard from him?” “Yes, we got a letter last week. He’s doing well so far.” said Beverly. “Remind me, where is he serving?” Bev replied, “On a destroyer, the USS O’Bannon. They’re still in the Southwest Pacific doing escort and bombardment work. Oddly enough, they have been near New Guinea recently, and could have been one of the ships we redirected, but they were already in the area.”
Ray and Bev got out of the car and headed toward the water. Ray had already taken off his shirt.
Seeing him in a swimsuit for the first time, Bev could not help but admire him. “...Why does he have to be so handsome?” she thought. “It’s not helping me focus on my work. Why does he make me feel like a schoolgirl with a crush?” But, she didn’t dare say anything or act on her feelings for him. Their work was far too important.
They started off toward the beach. Bev looked at Ray with a mischievous grin, “Last one in is a rotten egg!” they ran together and into the cold surf. They only went in up to their thighs. Bev kept going. “What’s the matter, big boy?” She eased herself into the surf up to her chest, gasped and started taking fast breaths. Ray loved the look on her face, like she had been doused with ice water. “What’s the matter little girl?” They both laughed.
Ray watched her laughing in the surf. For a moment he forgot about intercepted messages, Japanese codes, and everything waiting for them back in Berkeley. He knew he shouldn’t be looking at her this way. But he was. He forced himself to catch up to her. As he approached her, a wave came behind her and pushed her into him. She nearly fell over, but he caught her around the waist.
For a moment neither moved. Their laughter faded. Beverly looked up at him, and whatever Ray saw in her expression stopped him cold. She saw it in his, too. Then Beverly laughed and pulled away.
“Afraid to ruin your hair?” Ray said. “Are *you*?” said Beverly. And with that, they both dove head first into a wave. By this time they were a bit numb, so it wasn’t too hard.
They changed and made their way to the restaurant. It was a lovely little place. The hostess gave them a little side-by-side table, she apparently thought they were a couple. Neither of them bothered to correct her.
“I love this little place, the food is great.” said Ray. Bev agreed, “It’s charming.” They sat down, and Ray started reviewing their findings. “This signal strength problem, I’m not convinced that’s all there is to it…” Bev watched his face as he talked, the sparkle in his eyes, his cute dimples. Suddenly, she felt something on her thigh. She was wearing a short dress, so his hand landed on bare skin. With his finger, he pushed her skirt up just a little. She looked up at him, saw the longing in his eyes. He moved in and kissed her, deeply. She felt her heart pounding, her face and body flushing.
“Beverly? What do you think?” Ray said. She was jolted back to reality. “Uh, I’m sorry, what were you saying?” “Are you all right, Bev? You look a bit feverish.” She savored the lingering warmth of the daydream. “Oh, I’m fine. But it does seem a little warm in here.”