Cryptology, Garden Parties, and Self-Censorship of Unconventional Trailblazers

The sunny days of spring provide us southerners the perfect excuse to throw our favorite events - garden parties! I’m always down for an excuse to don one of my many colorful sundresses, vintage espadrilles, and hand-crafted hats, attend an outdoor shindig, admire peony blooms, and swap tips for perfecting the soon-to-be blossoming hydrangeas. 

A Cryptology Legend

At one particularly sunny garden party, I found myself in an 1850s home that had hosted U.S. Presidents, Generals, and TV celebrities. While admiring the front parlor, I spotted a framed letter of recognition issued by our Congressman. It was honoring a woman named Agnes Driscoll for her contributions to cryptology. 

My eyes widened—Agnes Meyer Driscoll! I remembered her from grad school, where I’d studied her pivotal role in breaking Japanese naval codes during WWII. Her work was vital to the success at the Battle of Midway and saved countless lives. Known as “Madam X”, Agnes’ pioneering innovations resulted in her becoming known as the “First Lady of Naval Cryptology.” She was instrumental in developing early cipher machines, and her brilliance shaped the very foundation of modern signals intelligence. 

The host, noticing my lingering gaze on the framed letter, slipped beside me and said, “She was my aunt.”

“Wow,” I replied, “She’s a legend in the cyber world.”

“I know,” he replied. “I long career in the U.S. Navy. Interestingly, Agnes would come visit me during my midshipmen days at the Academy, and never once mentioned her pioneering contributions during the wars to me, my classmates, or professors.”

“Really?” I replied, stunned. 

“We never knew why. Years later, I found out about her remarkable contributions, and my family and I have worked to ensure her legacy is documented and that it receives the recognition it deserves.”

“She was a real trailblazer,” I replied. 

The host went on to show many fascinating Naval artifacts and tell some funny stories about brilliant Aunt Agnes. The legend of her service had inspired many of her relatives to devote their lives to our nation through serving in the U.S. military, including commanding nuclear submarines and combat deployments during the Global War on Terror as U.S. Navy SEALS. It was touching to learn how the precedent she set through her devotion to our country extended to multiple generations. 

Self-censorship of Unconventional Trailblazers

On the drive home, I relayed the discovery to my husband and asked, “Why didn’t Agenes tell people about her service? Was it security concerns? Something else?”

“No, I don’t think security concerns, especially not in the later years and with her family,” he replied. “Think about it - you know why she didn’t tell people about her defense work.”

Confused, I asked, “Why?”

“Same reason you stopped telling people about yours,” he stated. 

“Because it kills the garden party vibe,” I laughed.

“Only when it’s you - a woman - engaged in this space. People love talking about my years in uniform, but everyone walks away when your contributions to defense come up,” he replied. 

“Maybe Agnes was treated that way and just found it easier not to mention her work,” I replied. 

“Folks don’t want to hear about your cyberwarfare work, SOF research, or military college faculty positions - they just want to talk about my old war stories and the god-damned flowers,” he replied. “It’s sad.”

“Yeah, it is,” I replied, reflecting on my own actions, “Self-censoring for the sake of not rocking the boat at a garden party - it’s sad.”