Dumpy - Dover Castle's Nuclear Bunker

On Thursday my husband and I headed off an adventure, back to our beloved Dover Castle. This place is particularly special to us as it was where we went for our first big day out together as a couple, after we'd told everyone that we were an item. It was a day where we were liberated to enjoy our relationship without feeling like we were hiding a big secret anymore.*

Anyway, I'd first been there with my family when I was 15, and fell in love with it. It has a history that spans back as far as the Iron Age all the way through to the Cold War, and it is a truly fascinating place. What makes it more unique than any other castle in the country is its the network of underground tunnels. The first of these is Medieval. Then more were built during the Napoleonic era, and really came into significant use during the Second World War. Operation Dynamo, to evacuate troops from Dunkirk in 1940, was conducted from Dover's secret tunnels. I learnt all about this on my first ever trip to Dover. I was intrigued when our guide mysteriously informed us of another set of tunnels, further below, that was used for the Cold War, named DUMPY (Deep Underground Military Position Yellow), but that it was closed to the public for reasons that were not really given...

Fast forward to that special day out when my husband and I were first an item. The tour of the Second World War tunnels was the first thing we did when we arrived that day, and my husband became instantly fascinated with this subterranean world of intrigue, but particularly in relation to the Cold War and nuclear bunkers. Ever since then we have both been really keen to see Dumpy. So, when we spotted that English Heritage were hosting an Exclusive Members tour, opening Dumpy to the public for the first time, of course we had to go!

We travelled up to Dover by train, and then huffed and puffed our way up the very steep hill to get there, only to find that the rest of the castle was closed and that we couldn't get into the grounds until just before the tour was due to start. It was a lovely warm spring day, but we couldn't bear the thought of going back into the town and then walking up that hill again so we stayed just outside the main gate and ate our picnic. With a couple of hours to go, our caffeine levels were beginning to ebb, so my wonderful husband did venture back down the hill to buy us some tea from Costa. It wasn't much longer after that, when more and more history fanatics, urban explorers, and fellow geeks had joined us just outside the gate, when we were allowed into the grounds.

We all convened in one of the site restaurants, where we received an introduction from a group of experts who would be leading our tour, and then we were finally on our way down to Dumpy itself. We were led to a concrete block where we were given yellow lanyards to keep track of us, and then through a door and down some steps to the lift that would take us down to the tunnels.

Our guides wanted us to imagine that we were important members of the civil service who had been called down into Dumpy in the middle of the night. Dumpy was to be a seat of regional government in the event of nuclear attack on Britain, and so personnel were required to kept somewhere 'safe' where they could plan for the aftermath, and communicate with similar bases across the country. Just standing there in front of the lift gave a real sense of the dread that nuclear war could bring. These personnel would have no contact with their families or friends for about a month in the event of a nuclear attack, and they would have no idea how their loved ones would be faring above ground. In fact, due to morale, the information regarding what would have been happening in the country was limited only to those who needed to know for the sake of their role. If you put yourselves in that position, isn't it a sinister feeling? I think I would want to run back and be with my family, and yet the sheer horror of the unknown when it comes to a nuclear bomb, a potential Armageddon, could be enough to freeze you to the spot. Certainly the last thing I would want to do is go and work, even if it was for the good of the country! I couldn't bear not knowing what kind of world I would emerge into at the end of the month. The amount of professionalism and resolve these people would have needed if this situation had ever occurred is really quite remarkable.

The lift down underground...

The personnel who would have been required to work in Dumpy did undertake exercises down there during the 1960s, which apparently felt very real. I found a video by English Heritage on YouTube about this. If this is the sort of thing that you're interested in as well, it's only 10 minutes, so worth a look.

Down in Dumpy itself we were treated to explanations of how communications would have taken place between the other nuclear bunkers and ROC posts in the region and the wider country, how the air conditioning and ventilation worked in such a way as to minimise any potential radiation absorption, the limitations of the water supply and how 28 days was about the maximum time that could 'comfortably' be spent down there, and how the Chief Commander would have managed the staff and dealt with the information that came through to him.

We were taken through a series of corridors, and shown the air conditioning units, the Commander's office, the cabinet meeting room, the science room, the communications area, the small radio broadcasting room, and finally the toilets! Our guides were very informative about what life would be like down there, but they also gave us an insight into what it could be like up above. For example, the BBC would only broadcast a radio announcement at particular times, as people had to conserve batteries, advising people to ration their food and water sensibly, and to stay calm. And that was pretty much it. I can't even begin to imagine how difficult that advice would be when the fear of fallout must be truly terrifying, and that's if you were far enough away from the initial blast!

One of the comms rooms that once was full of teleprinters etc

Unlike the other main visitor tunnels at Dover - Annexe (used as a hospital during the Second World War), and Casemate (used for Operation Dynamo and other important communications) - Dumpy has not been dressed up or designed to create a visitor experience. Whilst I love that about the other tunnels, I also appreciated seeing Dumpy in such a raw format, and understanding just a little more about the Cold War and what the threat of nuclear attack really meant, thanks to our brilliant tour guides, I think it came to life just as much as if the rooms had been recreated as the other tunnels had been. Some visual aids were used, which were greatl, and we got to see plenty of real artefacts which was a treat.

After the tour we were taken up to the old mess hall, which is now used as a wartime themed tea room, where we were treated to tea and coffee, along with some delicious sandwiches and cakes.

I think the tour vividly created a sense of what a terrifying prospect nuclear attack once was, although it also raises many questions about just how capable the government would really have been if it had ever happened. With the kind of disaster they perceived, would any of their planned methods of governance have made any difference? And would they really have operated that efficiently? How could a few people underground cope with the masses above ground who were fighting to survive with limited resources and fear of radiation? I guess that's why the nuclear holocaust is such a popular topic for books and films, there are lots of 'what ifs?' I know so little about the Cold War generally, and indeed our parents have never mentioned what they thought of it back in their youth, or if the idea of a nuclear attack ever really bothered them. But I have decided to investigate the topic further and learn at least a little more about it.

And we had a great day out, courtesy of another brilliant English Heritage Members Event, huzzah!

Photos my own.

*I appreciate that this may sound quite cryptic. I do intend to explain it on my blog one day, I promise!