View on Biblioguides
As Diane and I have been reading a great deal of WWII nonfiction and historical fiction lately, Amazon suggested The Enigma Girls by Candace Fleming. We found a copy at a library book sale, and my daughter, Greta, devoured it and wrote her own review. Then I noticed Sherry Early had read and enjoyed it as well. I wondered whether I really needed to add one more voice to the chorus. But, ultimately, I decided that I wanted to put my own thoughts down for myself, my patrons, and because this book deserves more attention.
Though I haven’t read a great deal of Fleming’s work, I’ve long loved Boxes for Katje, and Papa’s Mechanical Fish is a favorite among the little boys in our library. I also have a copy of The Family Romanov that keeps making the rounds with moms in my library who love it. That said, I tend to be skeptical of modern books published by Scholastic—they so often feel curated more for trend than for depth. But The Enigma Girls surprised me. It’s refreshingly substantive, smartly written, and incredibly engaging. It was fun to read and I learned new things!
During WWII, teenage girls with a particular genius for math, puzzles, crossword puzzles, and languages were plucked from their schools, families, and other wartime assignments and brought—often without explanation—to Bletchley Park. Some arrived blindfolded, some in darkened vans, some walked in through the front gates. They were a mix of socialites, commoners, and college co-eds. After vague interviews and cryptic vetting, they were all asked the same question: “Can you keep secrets?” Before they could even think, an official oath of secrecy was placed before them, and a pen thrust into their hands. And with that, they signed away the right to ever speak of their wartime work again—for the rest of their lives.
And they kept those secrets. For decades. Even from their husbands and children. Some of them even worked together after the war and never spoke of what they had done at The Park.
It wasn’t until 1977, when some documents about Bletchley Park were declassified, that their stories began to surface. Fleming read and studied those records and oral histories with energy and care. In this fascinating work of middle-grade nonfiction, she brings to life the stories of ten teenage girls whose work helped break the Enigma code, decrypt enemy communications, and shape the course of WWII intelligence. Their contributions were extraordinary, but Fleming never lets us forget their age, their vibrancy, or their capacity for joy. Alongside the high-stakes decoding work, we read of pranks, small mistakes, friendships, misbehavior in the mess hall, and even some Park romances.
The book is packed with detail, but it never drags. My only critique would be the inclusion of “fact bubbles” scattered throughout the text—a Scholastic hallmark. While they are well written and informative, I found them distracting. The core narrative was strong enough to stand on its own, and these pop-outs, while meant to enrich, detract from the immersive reading experience. I think that anyone reading this is likely to want to learn more and will seek out further reading on their own.
I would recommend The Enigma Girls to anyone with an interest in WWII, the Enigma machine, espionage, or decryption. It’s a particularly excellent choice for fans of Connie Willis’s Blackout and All Clear, and for middle-grade or teen girls who want to read about young women who made a real difference.
Like Fleming herself, I closed the book with deep admiration for these young women—so bright, so brave, and so committed. I’m grateful their stories are finally being told. And, I am grateful for the way in which Fleming memorialized their contributions.