Sixty years ago this month, another Boys’ Life radio contest was underway, as shown by these scouts pictured above in the February 1956 issue of the magazine.
The issue carried an extensive article detailing how scouts could pull in numerous stations, both amateur and broadcast, from around the world.
Shown here in 1926 is Lyman F. Barry, 2OH, the Scoutmaster of Troop 503, Manhattan. In an article in the February 1926 issue of Radio Age, he describes the radio scouting activities of that troop and the equipment used. He first notes that nationwide, 75% of all scouts had radio receiving sets, and that radio had played a role in scouting from the very start. “Away back in 1914 when radio broadcasting was little known, thousands of scouts were studying the scout handbook and wiring up crystal receiving sets and learning the code.”
His aim was to have every scout in the troop in radio communication with the troop, in a system totally independent of commercial telephones. The troop headquarters was equipped with a CW transmitter capable of reaching every part of the city, and at least half of the members of the troop already had a receiver. The scouts were currently in the process of revamping those sets to tune down to 176 meters (1705 kHz), the wavelength employed by the troop station.
From 2OH, a daily bulletin was sent out at about 8 words per minute, a speed at which even the new scouts could pick out a few letters. At weekly meetings, the messages were handed in, and points were awarded to scouts copying without mistakes. Scoutmaster Barry noted that if any emergency mobilizations could be communicated via these bulletins.
At least one neighboring troop had installed a transmitter and receiver, and intercommunications with that troop was being carried out.
The troop also had a portable station, consisting of a regenerative receiver with a single WD-12 tube. This station was capable of tuning 50-50,000 meters, and would pull in broadcast stations from 15-20 miles, as well as the troop station.
The troop also regularly monitored time and weather broadcasts from NAA in Arlington, Virginia.
Troop 503 is mentioned again in the June 1928 issue of Boys’ Life, where it reported that it was in direct contact with a troop in Buffalo. At that time, Troop 503 held the call sign 2AAQ for its portable station.
Shown here a hundred years ago are Scouts Bruce Clark and Roland D. Cosgrove, 1ON, of 14 Wright Street, Cambridge, Mass. The photo appeared in the February 1916 issue of Wireless Age, and the caption reveals only that they “were operating a wireless set at the Boston Boy Scout rally.”
I’m a counselor in the Northern Star Council of the BSA for the relatively new Signs, Signals, and Codes merit badge. My area of expertise, of course, is Morse Code, but this merit badge requires Scouts to learn a little bit about a lot of different methods of signalling. In addition to Morse Code, these include the traditional Scouting activity of semaphore, as well as Braille and American Sign Language. Signalling is an evolving art, and Scouts are even asked to teach their counselors about emoticons, since the Scouts probably know a lot more about them than their counselor.
In additional to semaphore, the merit badge covers a number of other traditional scouting skills, such as trail markings and silent Scout signals. The January 1946 issue of Boys’ Life includes a good overview of many of the skills needed for this merit badge. The image shown above is from that issue, and shows Scouts some of the silent signals they can use on the trail or at meetings.
In March, I’ll be counseling the merit badge as part of the Northwest District merit badge day. This event is sometimes opened up to Scouts from other districts, so keep checking for updates.
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Derrick Belfall. Photo courtesy of Mrs. Rita McInnes.
Today marks the 75th anniversary of the death of a British Boy Scout, Derrick Belfall, who gave his life in the service of his country and his King.
Just over 75 years ago, the November 18, 1940, issue of Life magazine carried this photo of British air raid wardens gathering prior to having to go to work for the night. The man on the phone is just receiving the “yellow warning” advising that enemy planes were approaching the country. The young man resting is probably a messenger, who would be called upon to deliver messages to civilian defense headquarters if the telephones failed.
The men here are in Churchill, a village coincidentally sharing the name of the prime minister, located about 14 miles from the port of Bristol. These men so far felt a little out of the war, since, there had been nothing to do, no bomb wreckage, no casualties, no fires. But the same scene was playing itself out in other cities and villages, and many of those men, young and old, would soon be at the heart of the war.
Derric Belfall. Photo courtesy of Mrs. Rita McInnes.
On the night of December 2, 1940, a similar scene was playing itself out just a few miles away in Bristol. Planes were approaching the country, and the men of Bristol received the warning. Among them was a fourteen year old Boy Scout, Derrick Belfall, of 109 Bishop Rd, Bishopston, Bristol, the only son of Cecil Ernest and Mary (née Miller) Belfall. Like the young man in the photo above, he was a civilian defense messenger.
Under the regulations, the minimum age for messengers was sixteen. But fourteen-year-old Belfall had been persistent, and his parents and the authorities had finally allowed him to serve. On December 2, the yellow warning turned into a real attack on Bristol, and the civilian defense volunteers had a long difficult evening ahead of them.
Another Boy Scout messenger explained, in the September 1942 issue of Boys’ Life, the duties of messenger:
When a bomb drops one of the first people on the spot is either the head warden or one of the senior wardens. He always has a messenger with him; one of us Scouts. What he does as soon as he gets there is to make out a report on what has happened, give it to that messenger and the messenger rides down to the post, which we call the pill box.
Inside the pill box there is a telephone. That is the only telephone we are allowed to use during an air raid. But sometimes the telephone lines get broken when a bomb hits the road. Then instead of just having to ride to the post and telephoning, we messengers have got to ride down to the control center. Sometimes it is a long way and sometimes it isn’t. In my case it is three miles; that’s three miles there and three miles back, maybe ten times in one night. Not only do we send one messenger but three minutes after the first messenger is gone we always send another one so if the first one gets bumped off the second one may get through.
The most complete account of Derrick Belfall’s actions that night appeared in the Chelmsford Chronicle, January 17, 1941:
In the six hour long air raid on Bristol early in December last Derrick Belfall took a message regardless of his own safety right through the worst danger area of the city with bombs dropping all around him. He got through with his message and he got back, his hands torn and bleeding. When told to go and rest, he said “No thanks”; please let me have a stirrup pump, I want to put out a fire that I passed down the road.
They told Derrick he was too exhausted to go out again, but the lad took a pump, slipped quietly out and succeeded by himself in getting the fire under control. A little later he rescued a baby from a blazing house.
He reported back at his post and found that telephonic communications had broken down, An urgent message had to be got through. Without a moment’s hesitation Derrick volunteered to take it. Out he went with enemy raiders overhead dropping bombs all along the route. He reached the Central Police Headquarters.
And then a bomb struck him down.
He was rushed to hospital dying “Messenger Belfall reporting – I’ve delivered my message,” he murmured. That was his last breath. Derrick Cecil Belfall died on active service aged 14 years 11 months.
After recounting Scout Belfall’s story and those of other scouts responsible for acts of bravery, the American Chief Scout Executive, James E. West, had this to say:
Of course, all of us hope that none of our Scouts will ever be called upon to face this type of emergency here in America, but it is my conviction that they are qualified to meet any situation in the same spirit. Bear in mind that these boys are typical of Scouts in your own community, yes, in your own Troop. That they probably had training no better than what you yourselves and your brother Scouts secured under your own Scoutmaster and other Troop leaders. They were not specialists but were equipped with only such knowledge as is normally given to Scouts through our Advancement Program. Yet how nobly these Scouts and Scout Leaders lived up to our Scout Motto “Be Prepared.”
Acknowledgment
I would like to thank Mrs. Rita McInnes, a neighbor of the Belfall family, for providing the photograph of Derrick Belfall, and also for providing the newspaper article quoted above. The illuminated photograph containing Derrick’s last words hung for many years in the Belfall home, and I am grateful to Mrs. McInnes for preserving it and allowing me to share it.
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According to the National Eagle Scout Association database, on this day 95 years ago, November 29, 1920, Scout Jack Wilkins of 715 North Boulevard, Atlanta, a member of Troop 15, became an Eagle Scout. This achievement was reported in the Atlanta Constitution, December 4, 1920. This, however, wasn’t the first time this Scout had appeared in the newspaper.
In 1919, Mr. Wilkins, then 15 years old, was featured in Atlanta’s Sunday American, and the article was reprinted in the November 1919 issue of Radio Amateur News, with the photo shown here.
The article, entitled “Scout Jack Wilkins is a Young Marconi” reports that Wilkins had completed his station and was able to receive radiograms every night from Arlington, Key West, Florida, and other government stations, as well as ship stations along the Atlantic seaboard. His station, described as efficient and orderly, used a four-wire antenna. Since American amateurs were still off the air, the article reports that Wilkins was waiting impatiently for permission to “throw on the rotary gap and send 15,000 volts flashing into the air bearing his messages.”
I didn’t find any record of Wilkins holding a license in 1920, so it’s unclear as to whether he was able to unleash that rotary gap. The article reports that he was also working on a portable set to use in connection with scouting activities.
The article also identifies another scout from the same troop, Welsh Geeslin, who had operated a station before the war.
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A sampling of the author’s QSL’s.
Seventy-five years ago this month, the November 1940 issue of Boys’ Life carried a one-page plug for Amateur Radio entitled “DX Hams Do Get Around.” The author, Larry Le Kashman, W2IOP, starts by explaining how hams can “hold a conversation annihilating time and space by the touch of a switch,” and goes on to explain the licensing requirements. After a rundown of things like call signs and Q-signals, he moves to some of the exciting things that happen on Ham Radio, undoubtedly of interest to young scouts who wanted to Be Prepared. He tells a couple of tales (lacking in many details) such as that of a ham in California who was working a station in New Zealand until the latter suddenly left the air. The worried Californian managed to make contact with another station in the same town who investigated. The first New Zealander had been overcome by gas, and the quick actions of the California ham saved his life. Another unnamed station somewhere in the Midwest “was held up by thugs while his phone transmitter was on the air. The station he was talking to make a long distance telephone call and the distressed ham was rescued in short order by the police.”
Le Kashman included a few more corroborating details when talking about what hams did during hurricanes and floods. (However, many of the corroborating details for a flood “last winter” sounded suspiciously similar to what had actually happened in 1936.) But the exact details were less important than the compelling story the article told:
Perhaps you were wondering what was happening in the cold Eastern states when flood waters started rising last winter. Had you turned on a short wave receiver you might have heard the first sharp signal pierce through the night with a frantic appeal–“QRR QRR,” the land SOS shattered the ominous stillness of the black night. Amateur activity ceased in an instant–from coast to coast ears were strained listening to the troubled frantic calls for help. With no wires, no roads, no power, the stricken cities were relying upon battery operated amateur stations. News services, starving for stories called on the radio amateurs.
Endless hours passed as the drama unfolded. At 2 A.M. the first flood missages came through. At 3:05 W8WBH, operating from the Pittsburgh area, wired frantically for aid. All wires were down. Snatches of messages came through the interference, only to end in a tragic blurred whine, as power failed. Cold, gray dawn broke on operators racing against time. State after state went under the rushing, conquiring, relentless deluge, and their only link with the outside world was the isolated hams. An ominiously curtailed message from New Cannan read, “WATER 3 FEET STILL RISING.” At 10 A.M. a plane missing between Springfield and Albany was reported safe.
The author concludes that this “is the kind of stuff that makes amateur radio!” And it turns out that the author knew a thing or two about amateur radio. Born in 1921, Larry LeKashman was only about 19 when he penned this article, but he was already a prominent amateur. Until his death in 1978, he had held calls W2IOP, W8IOP, W9IOP, and W2AB. His career included serving as an editor of CQ magazine, and employment by RCA, Lafayette, and Bogen Electronics. In the 1950’s, he was the vice president of sales at Electro Voice, a position he held until his death.
The year before the Boys’ Life article, 1939, he had taken the top place in the ARRL CW Sweepstakes, a feat he repeated in 1948, 1949, 1953, 1957, 1959, 1960, and 1963. The connection with Boys’ Life isn’t suprising, since the National Eagle Scout Association database reveals that he became an Eagle Scout on September 11, 1934, in Troop 1, Oakland, Maine.
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Sixty years ago this month, Boys’ Life magazine, November 1955, carried an ad for this product. It was almost certainly coveted by many of the readers, and I’m certain that Santa was flooded with requests for it that year. It was the Huffy Radiobike: A bicycle with a radio built in to the “tank”! The ad promised that the radio was no toy, being rain-proof, tamper-proof, and shock-proof. “You can drop your bike on the walk if you want to . . . but you probably won’t want to.” The bike itself was well made, of the best materials, strong, speedy, and safe.
The ad also warned readers that “only one in ten thousand will have a Radiobike this Christmas. Many stores will have only a handful all fall. So the smart boy, or his dad, will call a Huffy dealer or write the Huffy Manufacturing Co. for catalog and dealer’s name, today.”
As noted in the ad, the radio itself was mounted in the “tank” of the bike and was a three-tube superhet, apparently manufactured by Yellow Springs Instrument Co. About 8500 units were manufactured. A schematic diagram of the radio is available at this link.
The tubes in the set were reflexed, with a 1R5 serving as converter, a 1U5 serving as IF amp, detector, and the first stage of audio, with a 3V4 serving as the final audio amplifier. The set was powered by a battery pack mounted behind the seat.
More information about the set can be found at nostalgic.net.
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A hundred years ago this month, Boys’ Life Magazine carried this ad for a “special station for receiving time signals.” For six dollars, the set included the transformer, loading coil and condenser in a mahogany case. Switches were mounted on the front, with a sensitive cat whisker detector on the top. This set came complete with headphone with silk cord and leather covered headband. The ad reported that other sets were avalable starting at two dollars.
The set was supplied by the S. & K. Electric & Mfg. Co., of 302 Sackett Street, Brooklyn, New York. From the picture, the set appears to be well made, and would undoubtedly pull in the signals from NAA within several hundred miles of Arlington.
This weekend is Jamboree On The Air (JOTA) and on Saturday, I’ll be with K0BSA at the North Star Museum of Boy Scouting and Girl Scouting in North Saint Paul, Minnesota. K0BSA is sponsored by the Minnesota Youth Amateur Radio Council (MNYARC), and photos of previous JOTA operations are available on their website.
JOTA is an international scouting event which allows Scouts around the world to communicate via amateur radio with other scouts and other amateur radio operators. Our event at the North Star Museum is open to all Scouts, and to the public. It’s free of charge (although we encourage you to also visit the rest of the museum while you’re there, which does have an admission charge.)
This is the 58th annual JOTA, the first one being run in 1958. The illustration above is from the announcement for the 1959 version, which at the time was called Radio-Jambo. The call signs in the illustration were Scout headquarters stations around the world that were on the air that year.
The K0BSA call sign has been connected with the Northern Star Council of the BSA for many years, and I never realized that it had an earlier use. The 1960 National Scout Jamboree was held in Colorado Springs, Colorado, the only time the event has been held in “Zero Land.” There has been Radio Scouting at most, if not all, Scout Jamborees, and in 1960, the official station of the Jamboree was assigned the K0BSA call sign. While the quality of this scan is poor, he Scout shown at the controls of K0BSA in this photo is Steve Wood, K4FJO, of High Point, N.C., who was one of many guest operators of the station. On his QRZ.com profile, K5KG reports that he was on staff at the Jamboree trading post, and spent all of his off hours at the station.
The June 1960 issue of Boys’ Life reported that K0BSA would be operating on all bands from reveille to taps on both phone and CW, with Pedro clomping at the key or braying into the mike.
If you’re in the Twin Cities and have an interest in radio and/or scouting, please stop by and visit. The event is open to Cub Scouts, Boy Scouts, Girl Scouts, and Non-Scouts, which should cover just about everyone. If you’re elsewhere, you can check with your local Scout council. And, of course, if you’re a Ham, please listen for stations calling CQ JOTA and help introduce a Scout to Amateur Radio.
I will also be counseling the Radio Merit Badge. Last year, about 20 Scouts earned the merit badge. “Back in the day” when I was a Scout, the merit badge required a knowledge of Morse Code, meaning that the Scouts who earned it usually did so after getting their amateur license. However, that has changed in recent years, and the merit badge is now more of an introduction to radio. My goal is to get Scouts interested in Amateur Radio, and a few of them have followed up by getting their license. I hope I once again have the opportunity to help Scouts who want to follow up and get their “ticket.”
