Then faced with a seemingly insurmountable challenge, a rather common source of error is simply overthinking. While creating his masterpiece, the Bombe decoder, Alan Turing was almost at the end of his ability before the final breakthrough was made. The German code changed too frequently to be kept up with; the machine simply didn’t know what it was reading, and couldn’t decrypt the key before it was scrambled for the next day. This issue persisted for quite some time. It was only when Turing devised a mechanism for the Bombe that sought out common words it could find easily, through which it could find the key; a relatively simple problem, which existed only through the means of overcomplication.

Another side effect of overthinking things is that one forgets about other loose ends that have yet to be absolved; for instance, something could slip out during a conversation that occurs under tense circumstances that would be considered a deep secret otherwise.

“You’re sure about this?”

“Positively.”

“You ought to understand the gravity of these allegations, though. If you’re wrong, or you’re lying, then Turing won’t be the one with a bloody well problem on his hands.”

“I’m certain. The bastard ‘confided’ in me earlier this week. He’s as homo as they come.”

“Well, this surely troubles me. We will have to act on it, though. Thank you for your honesty.”

The allegations were true, of course. Many consider it a blessing that the Enigma code had been rendered quite useless by the time that someone made up their mind to come forward, as the war would’ve likely up and ran a proper new direction if Alan’d been fired before the Allies came out on top. The machine sat in Hut 11A for a while.

“Hut 11A.”

“Mr. Turing? That you?”

“Yes. Is something the matter? You sound troubled.”

“I’m not quite sure how to put this, sir...”

“Out with it, then.”

“Well... some boys from the MP are coming out to you now. They barged in here all in a hurry and demanded to see Turing. They didn’t tell me outright, but I suspect they may have found out. Thought I’d phone you about it”

“Ah... I see. Thank you for the warning.”

“Mr. Turing...? I’ve always been on your side.”

While Alan’s trial didn’t possess the cold, unfeeling spirit of a court-martial, it may as well have been one. He was offered a harsh ultimatum, with unforgiving options, but a choice had to be made.

“And the jury has reached a verdict?”

“We have, your honor. We find the defendant, Alan Turing, guilty of gross indecency.”

“Very well. Mr. Turing, as I’m sure you know, there are two options for your sentencing. Put simply, you can either be put to death, or be cured. The choice is yours.”

“Your honor, the defendant has indicated a preference for the castration treatment.”

“Very well.”

Turing had a promising future in both athletics and academics; this was ultimately robbed from him, a needleful at a time, when the castration treatment began. Strength turned to atrophies, intellect turned to madness, and beauty turned to bloatedness. Turing’s work would never resume.

“It’s no use! NO BLOODY DAMN USE!”

“You’ve still got your mind, Alan.”

“No, I very much do not. Can’t you see? They’re taking that from me too! This is all one big... plot... or something... to get me out of the game! Those damn Germans must still be at it! THIS IS THEIR DOING! I’M THE VICTIM!”

“Alan, you must try and calm down. The Germans are gone now! They have been since after we won. The judge was the one who did this to you.”

“Well, bloody DAMN WELL ON HIM! LOOK AT ME!”

Most say that everything just piled up on poor Alan; a hardship as large as having the life sucked out of the bloodstream must be a bit of a downer, after all. No matter what the cause, what happened happened.

“I really must be mad now, must I? Talking to myself in the middle of my own house’s garden. Lovely. As good a time as any, then, I suppose.”

Nobody knows how he got a hold of the cyanide.

“I right believe this’ll be the last thing I ever do that I chose to do all by myself. No more judges or juries. Just me and my juicy, juicy apple, out here all alone...”

Everything that happened to Alan after the verdict came through was blatantly unjust, but some think he took solace in being able to choose how he finally went.

“Here I go.”

Alan Turing, vigilant till the end.

We are here today to honor his greatness and his genius, and the give him the privilege of being among his peers one last time. I know he would’ve liked to see you lot under some proper circumstances one last time.