# History of wireless telegraphy and broadcasting in Australia/Topical/Publications/Australasian Radio World/Issues/1937 07
## Link to Issue PDF

WorldRadioHistory.com's scan of Australasian Radio World - Vol. 02 No. 03 - July 1937 has been utilised to create the partial content for this page and can be downloaded at this link to further extend the content and enable further text correction of this issue: ARW 1937 07
In general, only content which is required for other articles in this Wikibook has been entered here and text corrected. The material has been extensively used, inter alia, for compilation of biographical articles, radio club articles and station articles.

## Front Cover

The Australasian Radio World
JULY 1, 1937; Vol. 2 - No. 3; Price, 1/-
Registered at the G.P.O., Sydney, for transmission by post as a periodical
Cover Photo: Photo of Amateur Communications Eight (See Page 3)
Highlighted Contents: Eight-Valve Amateur Communications Receiver: Jones' "Super-Gainer": Wiring the "1937 Eaglet All-Wave Two": Designing Vibrator "B" Eliminators: Shortwave DX Contest

## P.02 - Editorial Notes

Editorial Notes . . .
Two cases recently reported of "gyp" radio service practices indicate the urgent need there is in this country for government licensing of servicemen. No doubt typical of thousands of similar instances, these two illustrate the necessity for protection, not only for the legitimate serviceman as well as the set-owning public, but also for reputable radio manufacturers, whose reputations must suffer considerably at the hands of the part-time "voltmeter and pliers" mechanics who attempt to service their receivers. The first case concerns a set-owner who, when asked if his receiver used an earth, replied that a serviceman had fitted one some time previously. Investigation showed there WAS an earth lead, but it was attached to the iron grating of a nearby fireplace! In the second instance, a so-called serviceman had attempted to repair a defective wet electrolytic by filling it with water. Both cases seem so ridiculous that it is difficult to believe them true, but they are vouched for by the serviceman subsequently called in by the set-owners concerned. As well, they are not isolated instances; no doubt every serviceman practising anywhere in Australia to-day could recall similar experiences. To-day, anyone knowing the difference between a resistor and condenser, and finding himself out of a job, can hang out a shingle and become a radio serviceman. Whether he stays in business long or not is beside the point; while he IS in he can do the servicing profession a tremendous amount of harm. And servicing IS a profession; one that needs years of specialised training and constant study if it is to be followed successfully. In New Zealand to-day, the "gyp" serviceman is rapidly being forced out of business by the licensing system adopted some years ago. The electrical regulations as applied to radio have been tightened up considerably, so that now a salesman not holding a service ticket is not even permitted, under penalty of heavy fine, to change a power plug. And with the serviceman's licence came the serviceman's award. Today the award wage, which has been steadily mounting during the past few years, stands at £5/16/- per week. No further arguments should be needed to convince servicemen in this country that, in both their own interests and those of the public they serve, licensing is urgently needed.

## P.02 - Contents Banner

The Australasian Radio World
Incorporating the
All-Wave All-World DX News
Managing Editor - A. Earl Read, B.Sc.
Vol. 2. - JULY, 1937 - No. 3.

## P.02 - Contents

CONTENTS:
The Amateur Communications Eight . . . . 3
Radio Ramblings . . . . 10
New Radio Installations Regulations . . . . 15
The Jones' Super-Gainer Two . . . . 16
25 Years In Amateur Radio (3) . . . . 18
"Radio Aid" Explorers Track Down Noise . . . . 21
Designing Vibrator Type "B" Eliminators . . . . 22
Assembling And Wiring The 1937 Eaglet All-Wave Three . . . . 26
Radio Step By Step (10) . . . . 27
The A.T.R.S. Bulletin . . . . 28
Breaking Into The Amateur Game (6) . . . . 30
What's New In Radio . . . . 34
The All-Wave All-World DX News . . . . 37
Trans-Pacific DX On 10 Metres . . . . 38
Erecting 45-Foot Masts . . . . 40
Shortwave Review . . . . 41
DX News And Views . . . . 44
Climbing 6ME's 400-Foot Mast . . . . 48

## P.02 - Publication Notes

The "Australasian Radio World" is published monthly by Trade Publications Proprietary, Ltd. Editorial offices, 214 George Street, Sydney, N.S.W. Telephone BW6577. Cable address: "Repress," Sydney. Advertisers please note that copy should reach office of publication by 15th of month preceding that specified for insertion.
Subscription rates: 1/- per copy, 10/6 per year (12 issues) post free to Australia and New Zealand. Subscribers in New Zealand can remit by Postal Note or Money Order.
Printed by Bridge Printery Pty. Ltd., 214 George Street, Sydney, N.S.W., for the proprietors of the "Australasian Radio World," 214 George St., Sydney (Footnote P.48)

## P.18 - 25 Years In Amateur Radio (3)

25 Years In Amateur Radio . . (3)
Some interesting war-time radio experiences are related in this instalment of a biography dealing with radio in the early days, written for the "Radio World" By DON. B. KNOCK (VK2NO) (Radio Editor "The Bulletin")
THREE weeks were spent in passing trade tests, being graded in rank, and being "kitted." The trade tests weren't easy, even though men were at a premium. Those examining naval officers knew what they wanted, and got it.
I was handed a lump of mild steel, given a few old files and a hacksaw, and told to duplicate by hand the lock of a Vickers machine-gun. It finally emerged by dint of hard work, and don't forget that one can take off in filing, but can't put on! The micrometer was put over the work, and according to accuracy men were graded. I got through with the rating of air mechanic, 1st class.
Some disciplinary training followed, and the usual working parties, and one day I found myself detailed to take charge of a squad of aircraftsmen for a rather unpleasant job better left out of print. In that party was the self-same man who had "ordered" me as an unknowing recruit to sweep out those stores. I got, my own back!!
From Crystal Palace a number of us left for training, and we were drafted to Cranwell aerodrome (now the Sandhurst of the R.A.F.). As we approached that huge training school by tender from the nearby railway station, we were interested to note in the distance a semi-rigid airship rising rapidly, but apparently out of control. Three objects which we took to be sandbags dropped from it at around 2,000 feet.
On arrival we found that these were no sandbags. The ship had broken away from the mooring party and tore herself aloft with three men clinging to mooring ropes. They had no chance. One man was left on board, and the ship eventually came to earth safely 10 miles distant. Such was my welcome to my first training school.
Followed two hard months of disciplinary training; up and down the hard parade square with rifles. At the end of that time we were the picture of health and burnt brown in the heat of that unusually hot English summer.
Tests With 'Plane Radio. One day, off duty, I wandered around, and from the door of a hut near a hangar heard a familiar sound. It was a rotary gap! I peered in, and the important man inside deigned to explain that they were working with "that RE8 up there."
When the machine landed I got my first look at an aeroplane's wireless gear —a one-inch Sterling spark coil, helix, and carborundum crystal receiver. It worked over about 10 miles, and that was O.K. for artillery spotting and other purposes. I made closer contact with one of these 'plane spark installations a year or so later in an unexpected manner, as will be related.
With naval discipline well under the skin, the serious business of making us useful mechanics began, and then came a shock. A parade was called, and every alternate man ordered to take a pace forward. I was one, and then we were told that forthwith we were to be sent to Eastchurch (Isle of Sheppey) for training as armourer mechanics. Armourers! The most dangerous and least liked job of the service!
However, there was no alternative, and in due course Eastchurch was reached, and wireless seemed to slip farther and farther away. Guns, bombs, bomb-sights, gun-timing mechanisms firing through propellers; all these and more were firmly ingrained into our very characters.
An Exam. In Bomb Loading. Came the "pass-out" day, dreaded by all, and for a good reason. Hitherto we had worked only on dummy bombs; going through the motions of arming with exploders and detonators. The final examination for this part of the training consisted of wheeling a live 65-pounder on a rubber-tyred trolley hundreds of yards away from the class in the open, loading it, and bringing back to the instructor for inspection.
The idea was obvious; if a chap made a slip, he only blew himself up! We all got through.
It was at Eastchurch I got my first taste of war, when one night a German Gotha squadron roared in over the coast, headed for London, and "archies" opened up. There was a sinking feeling as one realised that up there those fellows were carrying the same kind of "toys" we were now used to handling. Familiarity breeds contempt, and after a few weeks of this, most fellows would stay under the warm blankets, come what may.
On several occasions "pills" were dropped at us as the raiders returned from London. My closest shave at this period was being blown out of bed in the port of Sheerness when on leave, when a bomb wrecked half the street.
In order to become familiar with other aspects of naval armoury training, a number of us was selected for a course at the Senior Gunnery School at Whale Island, Portsmouth. There we met up with the really rigid naval discipline, and felt proud of being counted in as "dinkum" naval ratings.
An Aerial Disaster. It was here that I witnessed a historic occurrence. One mid-day, when leaving the mess en route to class, a 'plane was observed to fly out of a cloud near-by. Before it was realised what was happening, he crashed headlong into one of the 350-feet lattice towers of the Horsea Naval Wireless Station (BYC). The rotary engine bored into the tower, and the portion above bent over alarmingly with the weight of the huge aerials.
The pilot was thrown out of his seat, unconscious, and fell on the upturned top wing. Only his arm crooked around a strut saved him from sliding off. Two A.B.'s climbed that huge tower with ropes, slung the pilot in a bosun's chair, and lowered him to earth. They were justly decorated.
By a coincidence, that pilot was later on my commanding officer in Russia. The makers of that tower, when broadcasting commenced years after the war, used the photo of that crash in advertisements as proof of the great strength of their design of aerial support. It was well founded, too, for that was a wooden and not a metal lattice tower.
The special course finished, we were returned to Eastchurch, and then came the time for foreign draft. Mudros was the place I was picked for. The place had an unsavoury name in the service, but events turned out for the best, as will be seen.
On the appointed date, the draft lined up on Waterloo station, London, with all active service kit. Roll was called, and when competed it was found that seven of us were left apart with no names called. The C.P.O. in charge scratched his head, said there must have been some mistake and that we couldn't go. Wroth at having to be parted from our pals, we protested, but the C.P.O. pointed out that we would be wise to keep our mouths shut, as it was only a few days to Xmas. The upshot was that we reported to Wormwood Scrubs airship station and were blessed with leave home for a few days.
It transpired that our original draft never reached Lemnos. A day out from the Pireaus in the Aegean Sea the troop transport was torpedoed and there were only one or two survivors.
A Visit To An Old Friend. On the next draft I had the fortune to spend three weeks at Malta, after having travelled through France and Italy by train, and our quarters were slap alongside the great Rinella wireless station (BYY), a station I had often listened to on my long telephone wire aerial at home, around 2,500 metres. I got the "open sesame" from an operator and revelled in looking at the huge air-cooled gaps and massive inductances.
At night, in my quarters, I spent hours listening to that roaring spark slamming out its traffic to ships in the Mediterranean. It was all in wartime code, of course, but I got a lot of practice in keeping up my Morse by writing it down.
Some nights I had the (then) proud job of doing sentry duty around the station. My job was still nothing to do with wireless, but this station at least brought a breath of the near past. After the worst sea passage in my experience, I at last saw Mudros on a grey dawn — that place where not so long before Anzacs had camped and many were buried. I saw in the cemetery the graves of older school-fellows who had gone west in the Gallipoli campaign.
Mudros harbour, on the island of Lemnos, was now a Royal Naval Air Service base for activities against the Turk and Bulgar. It was a hotbed of sand-fly fever and other ailments to which we all eventually fell victim. It was a casual war here at this time, and the safeguarding of health was a major problem.
Further Shift To Stavros. After a month or two I was drafted to Stavros, a little harbour on the Macedonian coast, not far from the mouth of the River Struma, on the other side of which were the Bulgarian trenches and gun emplacements. There was a fair amount of action, but in a chivalrous sort of way so far as air opponents were concerned. I got my share and lived to see the beginning of the end of the war here, when the Bulgars retreated in rout before the British and French armies.
It was at Stavros I met my first wireless valve, previously only read about as a development far surpassing the crystal detector. Our wireless station found me a constant visitor in spare hours, and I would sit entranced with headphones, listening to the powerful Telefunken signals from the German warship "Goeben" up in Constantinople harbour, and all kinds of signals. Again my Morse got a chance, but it was to be some time before I got a chance to use it as a wireless amateur again.

### Photo of 2NO in 1917

Familiarity breeds contempt! The author loading a 65-pound aircraft bomb during the last year of the War.

### Photo of 2NO in WW1

From amateur wireless to high explosive. The author (with pipe) and some of his "toys" during the War.