ABSTRACT
The Great War had been raging for a few months and the reservist Royal Marine responsible for work in the plating shop in the small factory near the present BBC building in Portland Place, in London, was already on his way to France earning his Mons Star. X-ray units would be wanted for the Forces and ten and twelve inch spark coils crackled away on their test benches, whilst your writer was engaged in the delectable task of cleaning mercury ‘breaks’, or interrupters as they were more technically known, surely the dirtiest and most smelly job in Christendom. The spy scare was on, neighbours’ alert ears ‘knew’ that spies were rampant in the factory in the heart of the residential West End. Could they not hear the Morse Code going out over the air?
