The Illuminating Light Bulb

I haven’t told this story to many people because when I do I notice they have a tendency to look at me slightly sideways with one eyebrow raised. Being prevailed upon, however, I now pass it on to a larger audience.

I was twelve, I think, which would make it 1940, when it happened. In our living room we had a large 100 watt bulb of the clear glass type with a filament consisting of a number of wires attached to a central glass core. One night, precisely at ten o’clock, it started to emit a buzzing sound which, after listening closely, my father identified as Morse Code. Being close to both Liverpool and Ringway airports, he reasoned that maybe there were aircraft flying near and, by some fluke, our light bulb was acting as a receiver for their signals. After four nights of the same thing happening at precisely ten o’clock, he decided that it was too much of a coincidence that aircraft should be flying over at the same time every night. In addition, he thought that maybe were were hearing something that wasn’t meant to beard by us. I was in the Runcorn Sea Cadets at the time and one of the subjects we were learning was Morse Code, but this was much too fast for me to take in.

When my father reported these happenings to the police they sent a sergeant and a constable, who listened gravely and then said it was something for a higher authority. The next night, Superintendent Jackson himself, and his next in command, came for a listen. After about a half hour, the transmissions ceased. My father was told that he wasn’t to say anything about these occurrences. Three nights later the Superintendent arrived, at a quarter to ten, accompanied by two men in plain clothes whom he introduced as “experts from the Isle of Man.” (At the same time there was a training school for wireless telegraphists at H.M.S. St. George, I.o.M.)

After listening to our light bulb buzzing away for three nights, one of these experts suddenly jumped up and rapped it with the back of his fingers, but it kept on remorselessly (no pun intended) tapping out it’s message. He tried again, giving it a good bang this time, but it kept on going. So, taking a hankerchief from his pocket, he removed the bulb and promised my father that he would get a replacement.

The sequel is, we heard some months later that a spy had been caught living quite close to us, a mere couple of roads away. Whether it was thanks to what the authorities heard through our light bulb or not we were never told. What’s more we didn’t get our replacement bulb either.

This happened at 11, Marina Grove, Runcorn.

'This story was submitted to the People’s War site by BBC Radio Merseyside’s People’s War team on behalf of Bernard Buckle and has been added to the site with his / her permission. The author fully understands the site's terms and conditions.

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