How Jessie broke codes to help win the war

As Japanese commanders radioed instructions to their fleets and pilots, the Enigma-coded transmissions would be intercepted and relayed to secret offices called Monterey, off St Kilda Road, Melbourne.

There teams of skilled decoders would work in shifts to decipher the transmissions which came in blocks of four numbers on teletype machines.

Another team of translators would piece together the hidden message using the unscrambled codes.

For young country girl Edith Jessie Edgar it was all part of her day’s work on a rotating shift which operated 24 hours a day during the war as an outstation of the famous Bletchley Park operation in England where teams cracked the Nazi codes.

Their work is credited as shortening the wars in Europe and the Pacific by at least two years.

British Prime Minister David Cameron last year acknowledged her effort with a special “We also Served” medal, along with a certificate of appreciation for what he described as “vital service”.

Now 90 years of age, Mrs Flanders is proud of her three years in the navy.

Her introduction to the war effort began when she volunteered at the age of 22 and was given one week’s training on deciphering before joining the Special Intelligence Bureau, later to become FRUMEL (Free Radio Unit Melbourne).

There would be excitement in the room when the team cracked a message with critical military instructions.

“I had learnt key Japanese words like corvette, rendezvous etc,” she told The Standard.

“We knew when something was urgent.

“For example, a message for a destroyer to rendezvous and head in a certain direction.

“We’d let the Allied convoy know to avoid an ambush.

“One night we had only three hours to warn them. I had decoded that message,”

On another occasion her team hit the jackpot with a decoded message indicating that Japanese naval admiral Yamamoto was to visit the Midway Islands as a morale booster.

“They sent a garbled message. Our team sent it over to Washington and they were able to bomb the ship the admiral was on,” she said.

Code breaking was no easy task. The Japanese would change a section every day, once a week and monthly. High-level experts in Bletchley Park would figure out the changes and pass them to decoding teams in Melbourne, Washington and Hawaii.

“The Japanese sent all their messages by radio and we had people in Townsville and Darwin to intercept the transmissions then relay them by teleprinter down to us,” Mrs Flanders said.

“We worked on the first floor and when we finished with the teleprinter messages we would drop them down a chute to be filed away.”

The work intensity was a far cry from the quiet rural setting where Jessie was born and raised in the Edgar family on a sheep farm called Nerrinyerie between Edenhope and Harrow.

The four children were educated by governesses in their younger years and at 14 Mrs Flanders was sent to St Catherine’s School in Melbourne.

She left at 18 for business school before working for the Shell Oil company for two years.

There was, however, a sense of adventure in her mind when she enlisted with the navy. Melbourne was in battle-ready mode with trenches dug in parks, windows bricked over and curfews on lights in buildings and vehicles.

“Authorities made preparations if Melbourne was bombed,” Mrs Flanders said.

“I was a relief driver and in the brown-outs driving was difficult with hoods over the headlights.”

She said when peace was declared there were street parties everywhere.

“Melbourne went wild with excitement,” Mrs Flanders said.

“I missed the partying because I was on duty that night and was escorted home by guards.”

After the peace declaration she remained with the navy for another five months and moved to Adelaide where she was a driver who mainly picked up or delivered soldiers to the airport.

Not one to be pushed around, she fought for her right to retain her rank as a Leading WRAN officer which enabled her to enjoy the extra five shillings a week that went with the rank.

When her three years of service finished she settled into a quiet rural life in the Western District on Warrock homestead after marrying Bob Patterson.

She later moved to Casterton when she married John Flanders after the death of her first husband.

Her explanation for a healthy old age is “working and enjoying life”.

“I never smoked — my father begged me not to smoke so I avoided it.”

Her name is inscribed on the Harrow war memorial as a living hero and she retains an active involvement in the community.

When The Standard caught up with her earlier this week she was on her way to Alice Springs for a holiday and is undaunted by long plane flights.

pcollins@standard.fairfax.com.au