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The weather forecaster that paved the way for D-day D-day anniversary: The weather forecast that paved the way for the Normandy landings
(about 14 hours later)
Seventy years ago this Thursday, Harold Checketts went to a birthday party in a cafe in Cosham, a suburb of Portsmouth. It was the birthday of one of his girlfriend's Wren pals, but the mood was not particularly celebratory. It wasn't the wretched weather bringing everyone down – howling winds and stormy skies had blighted the previous few days – but the air of nervous expectation.Seventy years ago this Thursday, Harold Checketts went to a birthday party in a cafe in Cosham, a suburb of Portsmouth. It was the birthday of one of his girlfriend's Wren pals, but the mood was not particularly celebratory. It wasn't the wretched weather bringing everyone down – howling winds and stormy skies had blighted the previous few days – but the air of nervous expectation.
All present were aware an allied invasion of France was imminent. Yet only Checketts and Jean Farren – the future Mrs Checketts – knew just how soon the allied forces would reach Normandy. Both navy meteorologists working as part of a secret unit at a requisitioned Hampshire mansion called Southwick House, they'd had come off shift and having plotted the weather charts for the next 24 hours, they knew the wind was about to drop.All present were aware an allied invasion of France was imminent. Yet only Checketts and Jean Farren – the future Mrs Checketts – knew just how soon the allied forces would reach Normandy. Both navy meteorologists working as part of a secret unit at a requisitioned Hampshire mansion called Southwick House, they'd had come off shift and having plotted the weather charts for the next 24 hours, they knew the wind was about to drop.
If their predictions were proved correct, come the evening the skies would clear enough for planes to fly by moonlight, providing General Eisenhower at last with the window of opportunity to liberate France from the Nazis.If their predictions were proved correct, come the evening the skies would clear enough for planes to fly by moonlight, providing General Eisenhower at last with the window of opportunity to liberate France from the Nazis.
"The topic of conversation … soon turned to the question of an invasion," wrote Checketts in his unpublished memoir. "Was it imminent? Where would it be? Shrewd guesses were made by some of the 'civvies' present, but wisely our Southwick House party remained silent. Jean and I, after we had left … could talk freely to each other about what was about to happen … Tomorrow, we knew, all hell would be let loose.""The topic of conversation … soon turned to the question of an invasion," wrote Checketts in his unpublished memoir. "Was it imminent? Where would it be? Shrewd guesses were made by some of the 'civvies' present, but wisely our Southwick House party remained silent. Jean and I, after we had left … could talk freely to each other about what was about to happen … Tomorrow, we knew, all hell would be let loose."
Jean died in June 2012 and Checketts, 94, now lives in a retirement home in Disley, Stockport. His memory of the invasion remains in sharp focus despite his faltering sight focus. It was clear from the weather charts that what came to be known as D-day was imminent, he says. "We were aware of the significance. We knew exactly what we were doing. I am very proud to have been at the centre of it."Jean died in June 2012 and Checketts, 94, now lives in a retirement home in Disley, Stockport. His memory of the invasion remains in sharp focus despite his faltering sight focus. It was clear from the weather charts that what came to be known as D-day was imminent, he says. "We were aware of the significance. We knew exactly what we were doing. I am very proud to have been at the centre of it."
At 4.05am that morning, on 5 June 1944, Eisenhower had made the decision to invade the coast of Normandy and take Hitler's "fortress" Europe. It was only many years later that historians recognised the role played by Checketts and the other meteorologists from the allied armed forces who worked under Group Captain James Martin Stagg, chief meteorologist from the Royal Air Force. As Checketts puts it in his memoirs: "We all realised that weather and seas at the beaches could become a matter of life and death for troops approaching enemy-occupied territory. The aim was to reduce the risks to the utmost possible extent."At 4.05am that morning, on 5 June 1944, Eisenhower had made the decision to invade the coast of Normandy and take Hitler's "fortress" Europe. It was only many years later that historians recognised the role played by Checketts and the other meteorologists from the allied armed forces who worked under Group Captain James Martin Stagg, chief meteorologist from the Royal Air Force. As Checketts puts it in his memoirs: "We all realised that weather and seas at the beaches could become a matter of life and death for troops approaching enemy-occupied territory. The aim was to reduce the risks to the utmost possible extent."
"The weather forecasting was hugely important," said Checkett's daughter, Jude Taylor, as she watched a BBC documentary about the D-day landings with her father this week. She has the war to thank for her very existence: her parents met in Lee-on-Solent in February 1944 when Checketts, a naval seaman just returned from two years in Ceylon, was sent to the young Wren who was to become her mother. Checkett has no wish to be labelled a hero. Any recognition for the part he played in D-day is welcome, but he makes no claims of gallantry. "It was a job reasonably well done," he says. "That's about it.""The weather forecasting was hugely important," said Checkett's daughter, Jude Taylor, as she watched a BBC documentary about the D-day landings with her father this week. She has the war to thank for her very existence: her parents met in Lee-on-Solent in February 1944 when Checketts, a naval seaman just returned from two years in Ceylon, was sent to the young Wren who was to become her mother. Checkett has no wish to be labelled a hero. Any recognition for the part he played in D-day is welcome, but he makes no claims of gallantry. "It was a job reasonably well done," he says. "That's about it."