Author Archives: clem.law@usa.net

Assassination of Archduke Franz Ferdinand, 1914

FranzFerdinand

A hundred years ago, on June 28, 1914, Archduke Franz Ferdinand and his consort were assasinated in Sarajevo, Bosnia, as reported here in the next day’s edition of the New York Tribune.

That morning, as the heir to the Austro-Hungarian throne made his way to city hall, a bomb had been thrown at his entourage. The papers reported that he was indignant upon his arrival at city hall, and snapped, “Herr burgemaster, we come to pay you a visit and bombs are thrown at us. It is an insult!”

After the ceremonies had been concluded at city hall, the Archduke and Duchess announced that they would go to the hospital to visit the wounded members of their party. Despite being under the protection of a cordon of police, they made a wrong turn down a street where the young Gavrilo Princip seized the opportunity and fired the fatal shots upon the Archduke and Duchess.

Later reports, such as the Washington Times for July 1, 1914, revealed that scores of bombs had been awaiting the royals, and that the Archduke “had not one chance in a hundred to escape the Bosnian conspirators.” The Times also correctly reported that “war is near.”

The assassination did indeed serve as the spark that ignited the First World War. Austria-Hungary had annexed Bosnia in 1908. While residents of Vienna paid surprisingly little attention to the assassination, it did spark a massive crackdown against Serbs in Sarajevo, as well as massive riots. The evening of the assassination, the mayor of Sarajevo issued a proclamation denouncing the crime, and announcing that there was no doubt that the bomb came from Belgrade. Anti-Serbian protests, as well as a virtual pogrom against the Serbs, followed.

Austria-Hungary also assumed (correctly, it turns out) that Serbia had been responsible for the assassination, and delivered an ultimatum to Serbia. When Serbia failed to comply, Austria-Hungary declared war on July 28. Russia and Germany quickly mobilized their forces, and in response, Germany delivered an ultimatum to Russia to demobilize. When this ultimatum went unheeded, Germany then declared war against Russia on August 1. When France did not adequately comply with German demands for neutrality, Germany declared war on France on August 3, followed by a declaration of war against Belgium on August 4. In response, Britain declared war against Germany on August 4.

Wireless and other technologies were to play an important role in the course of that war, and we’ll be seeing many such examples here as we look back at the centennial of the Great War. The various ultimata and declarations seem to have been delivered successfully using normal diplomatic channels, and wireless seems to have played little role in the start of the war.

It is interesting to note, however, how Austria-Hungary had used technology as part of its unsuccessful attempt to incorporate Bosnia into its empire. The journal Electrical Engineering, January, 1914, reports the successful completion of the Vienna-Sarajevo telephone circuit: “Satisfactory telephonic communication has recently been established between Vienna and Sarajevo, a distance of 875 miles.” Presumably, that line was cut in the coming months, and one press account notes that in reaction to the assassination, all telephone and telegraph facilities in Sarajevo were shut off to all but official communications.

The world would soon be at war, and wireless was to play a role.



The (non) Sinking of the Siberia

SiberiaLostOn May 1, 1914, the New York World Herald, along with most other U.S. papers, carried the tragic news of the apparent loss of the 11,000 ton steamer Siberia off the coast of Formosa. The paper reported that the gravest anxiety prevailed over the fate of the 821 souls aboard, including that of Mrs. Francis Burton Harrison, the wife of the Governor General of the Phillipine Islands. Ships from Britain, Japan, and the United States were racing to the scene of the wreck. The ship’s owners, the Pacific Mail Company of San Francisco, spared no expense in dispatching aid.

The headline of the Seattle Star reported that the ship was “wrecked by Chinese pirates” and helplessly ashore on the coast of Formosa.

On May 2, only an hour behind schedule, and much to everyone’s surprise, the Siberia sailed into Manila harbor none the worse for wear. She hadn’t sunk, nor had she been captured by Chinese pirates. She had been sailing in fair weather the entire time, and her reported demise had been greatly exaggerated.

Apparently the confusion arose when the Siberia made wireless contact and reported her position to the nearby steamer Persia. The Siberia’s call sign was WWU, and the Persia’s call sign was MBS. At some point, the Siberia’s operator was calling the Persia and sent, in International Morse, MBS DE WWU.

This was mistaken for a distress call. In Morse, the Persia’s call MBS is:

_ _      _ . . .    . . .

The distress call SOS is:

. . .     _ _ _    . . .

The confusion probably arose when the call sign was repeated multiple times:

_ _      _ . . .    . . .  _ _      _ . . .    . . .  _ _      _ . . .    . . .

The call was overheard by at least one Japanese steamer as well as by the operator of the shore station at Ozesaki, Japan. The Japanese operators mistook it for an SOS. The Siberia probably had a more powerful transmitter than the Japanese stations, and the Japanese operators’ frantic acknowledgements of the distress call were never heard by the Siberia. Instead, the massive rescue effort was dispatched.

In a later report of the incident, the Pacific Mail Company, which was also the owner of the Persia, was quoted as saying that it will probably change the call sign of the Persia.

The Siberia was sold in 1916 to a Japanese line and was renamed the Siberia Maru.  She remained in service until 1930 and was scrapped in 1934.

References:

“Wireless Mistake Causes Report of Shipwreck,” Popular Mechanics, July 1914, p. 80

“Marine Insurance Notes”, Pacific Marine Review, June 1914, p. 58.

http://www.atlantictransportline.us/content/48Siberia.htm

 

ARRL 100th Anniversary

ARRLnewsitemA hundred years ago, the New York Sun for June 14, 1914 reported on the beginnings of the ARRL.

The article announces that “H.P. Maxim, who invented a silencer, hopes he has invented a communicator.” It outlines Maxim’s plan, which is generally what the ARRL accomplished soon thereafter. “The scheme is to get all the amateur wireless operators of the country, and they exist by the hundreds of thousands, interested in transmitting messages from coast to coast.” Maxim is quoted that the proposal is to “select those stations which are able to transmit from fifty to 100 miles and which are kept in perfect running order. And then all stations in the league which we are forming, to be known as the American Radio Relay League, will at a predetermined hour ‘listen in.’ That hour will probably be 7:30 each evening.”

Maxim points out that the intention is “to make this thing strictly amateur. The messages are to be relayed by courtesy. There will be no fees for receiving, delivering or relaying the messages. No money transaction of any kind is to be considered in connection with the league.”

He also notes that the Government is likely to be cooperative, since the relay proposal ensures that it “will make it unnecessary for an amateur to have a high powered set,” thus reducing interference.

The War slowed things down a bit, but the first “Transcon” test was successfully carried out in January, 1921, with a successful transcontinental message and reply in “two hours flat.”


Soldatensender Calais and D-Day

D-Day Landing (U.S. Army photo)

D-Day Landing (U.S. Army photo)

The complete broadcast day for D-Day, June 6, 1944, was recorded by both CBS and NBC. One detail that I always found interesting was the following wire report, which was also carried in print by the AP in the D-Day afternoon papers:

Music for Invasion Forces

About the same time the German controlled Calais radio station came on the air with the following announcement in English:

“This is D day. We shall now bring music for the invasion forces.”

The whole Nazi controlled French radio network went off the air at 7:25 a.m. in the middle of a physical training broadcast.

Milwaukee Journal, June 6, 1944.

I’ve never seen any explanation of this curious statement, although the impression was that the French personnel of the station had taken advantage of the chaos and taken over the station.

The truth, however, appears to be even more interesting. It seems likely that the “German controlled Calais radio station” was actually Soldatensender Calais, a German-language station operated not by the Nazis, but by the Political Warfare Executive of the British Foreign Office. Soldatensender Calais (Soldier’s Station Calais) was broadcasting not from Calais, but from the village of Milton Bryan, Bedfordshire, England, with a massive 500 kilowatt mediumwave transmitter. It broadcast on 612 kHz, 714 kHz, and 833 kHz, frequencies shared by Radio Deutschland.

Joseph Goebbels himself lamented in his diary in 1943:

In the evening the so-called “Calais Soldiers Broadcast” which evidently originates in England and uses the same wavelength as Radio Station Deutschland when the latter is cut out during air raids, gave us something to worry about. The station does a very clever job of propaganda and from what is put on the air one can gather that the English know exactly what they have destroyed and what not.

The transmitter had originally been ordered by WJZ in Newark, New Jersey (now WABC, with its city of license New York), in hopes that the FCC would authorize the high power to match the superpower signal of WLW in Cincinnati which had in use on and off from 1934 to 1939. But when the FCC insisted on maintaining the 50 kW limit for standard broadcast stations, the station was eager to sell the transmitter to the British government for £165,000. At the time, the station was the world’s most powerful mediumwave station. It had the code name of Aspidistra, and remained in use by the BBC until 1982.

It was able to successfully spoof Nazi broadcasts to the point that it was regarded as a reputable source of information. When real German stations went off the air during air raids, the powerful British station would rebroadcast the signals of other German network stations still on the air, thus giving the impression that it was part of the German network. The superpower transmitter could blanket the continent, thus allowing it to join the Nazi broadcast network seemlessly. But into those programs, it could subtly insert misinformation. For example, it could be used to issue false evacuation orders to send civilians to clog the roads during German military movements. Captured German POW’s, even those who were aware of the station’s source, commended the British on the station’s plausible deniability. If a German officer walked in while the men were tuned to the station, they could plausibly claim that they thought it to be an ordinary German station.

The station’s creator, Sefton Delmer, described its programming as “cover, cover, dirt, cover, dirt.” Most of its programming mimicked the official German stations. But when needed, disinformation could be inserted. The Germans eventually figured out what was going on, and they preceded official instructions with the following announcement:

The enemy is broadcasting counterfeit instructions on our frequencies. Do not be misled by them. Here is an official announcement of the Reich authority.

Of course, the English station then began its messages with the same announcement!

The only reference I could find to Soldatensender Calais with respect to the invasion was that when Calais later fell to the Canadians, the station was renamed Soldatensender West. I haven’t been able to find any explanation as to why the station made its English broadcasts on D-Day. But it seems to me that the intention was probably to demonstrate that Calais had already fallen in the early morning hours of June 6, and that the French staff of the fictitious station had taken matters into their own hands to start broadcasting music for the benefit of the invading Allied armies.

And since the American press apparently fell for it and reported the activities of the “German controlled Calais radio,” this tactic seems to have worked.

References

Read More at Amazon:

Deutsch:


The “Foxhole Radio” Turns 70

FoxholePictorialI suspect that most who are familiar with the “foxhole radio” learned about it from the 1950’s era book All About Radio and Television by Jack Gould. This book, a staple of many elementary school libraries, includes the crystal set shown here, which was constructed using a razor blade and pencil lead as the detector. Gould recounts how such a radio was used by soldiers in the fox holes of World War 2, and I suspect that it was the appearance in Gould’s book that popularized the name.  And it turns out that Gould probably originated the name.

The name “foxhole radio”, and perhaps the concept, seems to have originated from the construction of simple crystal sets by soldiers at Anzio in 1944. From March through early May, 1944, fighting was light, “living was leisurely” for the thousands of soldiers on the beachhead, and the beachhead was a “honeycomb of wet and muddy trenches, foxholes, and dugouts.”

One of the first references to the fox hole radio I’ve been able to find appeared in QST for July, 1944. It doesn’t use the term “foxhole radio,” but this “Stray” reads as follows:

According to Toivo Kujanpaa, a licensed ham op stationed on the Anzio Beachhead, several of the radio men there rigged up a field version of a “crystal” set using a razor blade for a detector. Their efforts were rewarded by the reception of a “jive” program (along with some German propaganda) aimed at the American forces from an Axis station in Rome.

About that same time was when, as far as I can tell, a variation of the name “foxhole radio” first appeared in print.  Time Magazine for July 17, 1944 made the report,.   Time reported that one Lt. M.L. Rupert was one of “hundreds of U.S. infantrymen” who made the foxhole receiver to kill time and boredom at Anzio.  Lt. Rupert wrote to Marlin Firearms Company (the manufacturer of the razor blades) with a description of the set.As QST later lamented, Time “as usual” hadn’t given credit to hams for coming up with the idea.

A similar account, also crediting Lt. Rupert’s letter to the manufacturer, appeared in the New York Times on June 25, 1944. According to the New York Times, the idea of using the pencil lead originated with O.B. Hanson, NBC’s vice president of engineering, who refined on the concept sent to the razor blade manufacturer. Interestingly, the byline of the New York Times account is none other than Jack Gould, the author of All About Radio and Television.  So it’s safe to say that Gould is the originator of the name “foxhole radio.”

There were two follow-ups in QST. The August issue contains the following Stray:

Further details on the foxhole radio sets now have been received from a correspondent in Italy. The razor blade and safety-pin detector is described as follows: “A station was found by moving the point of the safety pin, anchored at the other end, over the opposite end of the blade from where it is connected to the coil and antenna. The ‘phones are inserted between the pin and the grounded side of the coil.” He adds that “reception was very good.”

Finally, a letter appears in the October issue of QST from Justin Garton. No call sign is listed, but Garton’s address is shown as 448 Riverside Dr., New York, N.Y. Garton reports that the boys on the Anzio beachhead were able to receive Rome during the day and Nazi propaganda programs from Berlin at night. Garton also includes the following schematic:

1944FoxholeSchematicQST

I wasn’t able to find a call sign for either Kujanpaa or Garton. Since the Stray indicates that Kujanpaa was licensed but didn’t give his call, I’m guessing what happened was that he was licensed after Pearl Harbor and consequently did not receive a call sign. It’s possible that he received a call after the War, but I wasn’t able to find it. According to this enlistment record, one Toivo J. Kujanpaa of Massachusetts, born in 1910, enlisted on June 11, 1943. According to the Social Security Death Index, he was born on June 19, 1910, and died on January 6, 1991.  Its quite likely that he got his amateur operator license after Pearl Harbor but before enlisting a year and a half later.  With the wartime moratorium on station licenses, he would not have received a call sign, despite being licensed.

If you’re an ARRL member and logged into your account there, you can download the QST articles cited above at the following links:

And this June 1945 Stray submitted by W2MIB includes an alternative detector,

Update:  Gould’s book “All About Radio and Television” is now available for free download at AmericanRadioHistory.com.

Click Here For Today’s Ripley’s Believe It Or Not Cartoon



Sinking of the Empress of Ireland: 1914

The 1912 edition of Wireless Telegraph Stations of the World  notes that the Canadian steamer RMS Empress of Ireland was equipped with a wireless set capable of 85 nautical miles, operating on 110 and 300 meters. She bore the call sign MPL.

1912EmpressOfIrelandCallbook

Popular Mechanics, July 1914

Popular Mechanics, July 1914

A hundred years ago, the wireless operator Edward Bomford was called upon to send the distress call SOS DE MPL, signalling the greatest peacetime maritime loss in Canadian history. 1012 souls (840 passengers and 172 crew) perished during the early morning hours of May 29, 1914, following a collision with the Norwegian collier SS Storstad. The steamer had just begun her voyage from Quebec City to Liverpool, England. The harbor pilot had just disembarked at Pointe-au-Père, Quebec, and Captain Henry George Kendall was taking the ship on its normal outbound course. He sighted the lights of the Storstad several miles distant, but ultimately lost sight of the coal ship in the fog. At about 2:00 AM, the Storstad crashed into the side of the Empress.

The Storstad was relatively undamaged, but the Empress sunk in the approximate 40 meters of water in about 15 minutes, leaving little time to evacuate the ship of the mostly sleeping passengers.

Bomford, the young wireless operator, had just relieved operator Ronald Ferguson. An officer ran to the wireless house with orders from the Captain, but Bomford was already at the key, calling the station at Pointe-au-Père. He made contact with Pointe-au-Père operator Crawford S. Leslie. Leslie and other operators quickly notified the government boats Eureka and Lady Evelyn. The Eureka had steam up, having just taken the mails to the Empress. The Eureka got under way immediately, followed closely by the Lady Evelyn. They found the surface of the water calm, dotted with a few lifeboats and debris. Some survivors were taken aboard, some of whom succumed to exposure after exposure to the cold waters of the St. Lawrence, the temperatures that night being just a few degrees above freezing.

The survivors were taken to Rimouski, Quebec, a town of about 2000. That town’s doctors scurried from house to house to treat the survivors quartered there. Most of the town’s population, having been alerted by telegraph, was present at the wharf to meet the survivors, eager to provide whatever help that was possible, carrying blankets, hot coffee, food, and medicine. Among those assisting with the relief efforts was John McWilliams, one of the wireless operators from Pointe-au-Père, who had hastily gone to Rimouski to help render aid. According to one account, few gained more praise than was accorded to him for his efforts.

Both of the wireless operators, Bomford and Ferguson, as well as Captain Kendall, were among the survivors. I haven’t been able to find any information about Bomford (whose name is spelled Bamford in some accounts). There was an Edward Bamford born in 1887 who was awarded the Victoria Cross in 1918. This is almost certainly a different person, since this Edward Bamford had enlisted in the Royal Marines in 1905, where he served until his death in 1928.

The chief radio officer Ferguson, was later a licensed ham, G4VF. He was picked up by the Storstad, and later transferred to one of the tugboats assisting in the rescue. Since the tug had left hastily with no wireless  operator aboard, Ferguson was given permission to smash the lock on the tug’s wireless and put it on the air to help coordinate the rescue efforts. Ferguson died in 1985 at the age of 91.

Over a thousand perished that night. Canadian and Norwegian inquiries reached conflicting conclusions as to the blame for the collision. The Canadian inquiry largely placed the blame on the captain of the Storstad, while the Norwegian inquiry largely blamed the Canadian captain.

References:

Read More at Amazon:

Young readers will enjoy the young-adult novel Second Watch by Karen Autio. It is the story of an 11-year-old girl’s dream to visit her grandparents in Finland, and her trip on the Empress.

Canadian readers can find the following books at amazon.ca:

En francais:

Click Here For Today’s Ripley’s Believe It Or Not Cartoon



Decoration Day, 1914

The following editorial appeared a hundred years ago, in the Arizona Republican of May 24, 1914.  In just a few years, there would be many more graves of those who gave their lives for their country.  But we are reminded that the sacrifices of the heroes are not diminished by honoring as well the least among us.

The Potters’ Field

We print this morning a protest presented by members of the Women’s Relief Corps against the purpose to strew flowers on the graves of the Potters’ Field on Decoration Day. We cannot think that the memory of the heroic dead, whose memory we are accustomed to revere on  Memorial Day, would be dishonored by such an act. Nothing would be detracted from the observance of our duty to them. In placing flowers indiscriminately upon the lowly graves of the unknown dead, we should be acting as proxy for many a mother, wife, sister or daughter who does not know where her dead lies, or, knowing, could not perform that office herself.

Decoration Day is made the occasion in ail cemeteries for laying wreaths upon the graves of loved ones, who may not have laid down or offered their lives for their country. If you go into any cemetery in the land next Saturday, you will find little graves covered with flowers. You will find the graves of mothers decorated by loving hands.  You will find remembrances upon the graves of many who were born and have died since the war.

No one would raise a protest against such an expression of love on Decoration Day or any other day. Would we place a stigma instead of flowers upon the graves of those who lie in the Potters’ Field because they died friendless and penniless?

There are among us all. and there must be among these protestants against the decoration of the Potters’ Field, those who believe that there is a life beyond the grave; that there is a heaven not barred  against the souls of those whose only crime was that their bodies found sepulture in a Potters’ Field. Surely, we would not dishonor by scorn the graves of such as these.

There are desecrations of Decoration Day in protests against which we would join. We would protest against the custom of making the day a date for prize fights, and we would protest against turning from the solemnity of the Memorial Day services to merry-making in which is forgotten the purpose of the day, the annual renewal of our loyalty
to the country and our sense of gratitude to those who offered their lives for it.


Click Here For Today’s Ripley’s Believe It Or Not Cartoon



Radio Scouting in 1920

RadioScoutMap1920

 

Among the many hats I wear is that of counselor for the Radio Merit Badge.  I was also on the staff of K2BSA at the 2013 National Scout Jamboree.

Radio has a long history with scouting. The first edition of the Scout Handbook includes several pages on how to construct an “up-to-date wireless apparatus for stationary use in the home or at the meeting place of each patrol.”  Wireless Merit Badge was originated in 1918 and was renamed Radio in 1923.  And in 1920, scouts were called upon to relay government bulletins to their communities.  This small item appeared in the Ogden (Utah) Standard-Examiner of May 19, 1920.

RadioScouting

It reports that the Naval radio station in New York was sending out a daily message to scouts from the National Council of the BSA, “predicated upon appreciation of the war service of radio operators who learned wireless telegraphy when they were scouts.” It reports that the signals had been received from 42 states, including all on the Pacific coast.

More details, including the illustration shown above, are given in the July 1920 issue of Boys Life.  The message was sent each evening from station NAH at 9:30 PM Eastern time at 25 words per minute, with a 1500 meter (what we would today call 200 kHz) spark signal. The 30-50 word messages “always contain something of interest to boys. Sometimes they are from the Department of Agriculture or some other government department, with a request for each operator to make the message known to the public immediately.” The recipient was expected to have a system of reaching those in his neighborhood, such as “farmers’ telephone, semaphore, Morse flag, blinker or heliograph,” or even a “good horse, a bicycle, motorcycle, automobile, sea-scout cutter or other vehicle.”

The Boys’ Life article concludes by admonishing every scout to have arrangements to receive the daily NAH bulletins, and to do his part when a test message or other urgent communication comes through.

The June 1920 issue of Boys’ Life points out that “neither the army, navy, postal service nor any land telegraph or telephone company can cover the country as quickly, at present, as the scouts will be able to do if they grasp their opportunity and make use of the Navy’s cooperation.” The article also admonishes that “every tenderfoot, second-class and first-class scout should consider signal practice with buzzer sets or radio sets at once” to avail themselves of this opportunity, the value of which to our government would be beyond calculation.

 

Click Here For Today’s Ripley’s Believe It Or Not Cartoon



Caruso Hits the Airwaves, 1914

carusoradioA hundred years ago, the New York Sun, May 14, 1914, reports that the voice of Enrico Caruso was broadcast from New York to Philadelphia. The broadcast took place from the roof of the Wanamaker Department Store, and was also announced in the advertisement shown here.

CarusoPortraitThe paper reports that “scores of amateur wireless enthusiasts in Greater New York and along the Jersey coast were mystified over hearing through their receivers the voice of Caruso singing.” The “tenor’s phonographic tones were clearly heard by the operator at the wireless station at the Wanamaker store in Philadelphia,” and also that a “commercial message, dealing with ordinary business of the day” was transmitted as well.

Click Here For Today’s Ripley’s Believe It Or Not Cartoon



Mobile Wireless Goes To War: 1914

1914ArmyWirelessTruck

The Army Signal Corps truck-mounted wireless, as shown in Popular Mechanics, October, 1914.

A hundred years ago today, May 10, 1914, mobile wireless was about to become a reality for the U.S. Army, as reported in the Washington Herald of that day:

U. S. WIRELESS STATION
IS MOUNTED ON AUTO

Government Rushing Work on New
Portable Apparatus for Signal
Corps in Mexico.

A new wireless station mounted on a mortortruck. which is being constructed with all haste by the [U.S.] government in Mexico, was given a preliminary trial last night in which the operator was In easy communication with Key West and Philadelphia. The machine is to be used by the Signal Corps of the troops in Mexico.

The idea of a wireless station made portable by mounting on a motortruck, is original with the War Department and this machine which soon will be ready for active service is probably the only one of its kind in existence. The machine is constructed on a new design by Signal Corp engineers and has been assembled by the National Electric Company, work continuing In secret night and day.

A new “rapid transmitting panel” containing the latest improved wireless apparatus has been set about midway in a big six-cylinder White auto-truck, which carries in boxes at each side, a jointed portable aerial reaching 85 feet into the air when fully extended. The electric power for the wireless is furnished by the motor of the truck In direct connection with an electric generator, supplying enough current to light the mounted wireless room and run the instruments at their full capacity. The apparatus has a range of 400 to 800 miles in sending, and of nearly 2,500 miles In  receiving. The machine is for service at the army’s general headquarters giving the commander of forces easy communication with a fleet at sea, or with any of the small portable field instruments carried by sections of the Signal Corps.

In recent preliminary trials the machine was subjected to strict tests. As soon as the work reaches a satisfactory stage of completion field tests will be given and the possibilities of the equipment accurately determined. Quick shipment to Mexico will follow.

Click Here For Today’s Ripley’s Believe It Or Not Cartoon