Radio Mirror (Nov 1935-Apr 1936)

A dispatch runner, ducking and dodging from boulder to boulder, comes alongside us and, dropping out of the line of fire, breathlessly informs the Italian officer that an enemy shrapnel-throwing battery has been spotted. It's ready to go into action. We're ordered to keep that information off the air, not to give any hint that we know of its existence. None the less, the battery opens up almost immediately from behind the brow of a hill. Hot fragments of steel start raining all around as the Italian infantry rises out of the ground and moves forward, seeking shelter where it can. The enemy battery seems to be way off range. The Italians are dropping only here and there, though the storm of deathly shrapnel about us is still heavy. Suddenly the liaison officer screams above the din. "They're shelling us. Trying to wipe us . . ." A sudden blast, so close that it seems to turn blood into molten steel. Particles of sand lash our faces. The cloud of dust and smoke drifts away. The officer is lying face down, motionless. Clasping his side, the announcer slowly folds up like a slide rule and is still. Horror-stricken, we gaze at the bodies for a long moment, then the observer snatches up the bloodstained gas-mask microphone. Carry on. A figment of imagination? Not at all. That's a big, solid chunk of predetermined probability, based on the experience of National Broadcasting Company announcers, engineers and observers in their broadcasts under simulated war conditions at the recent great Army maneuvers at Pine Camp, New York, and upon the opinions of the military experts who privately confided their views to me. In these Pine Camp maneuvers, one radio observer was "killed" nine times, five during an actual broadcast. In another position, George Hicks, announcer; an engineer, and an observer, all concealed with a machine gun squad, were "wiped out," as was Dan Russel, announcer, and two engineers with a mobile transmitter unit. The military umpires ruled also that Nelson Case, another announcer, and two engineers, were "wounded and injured." All this happened on a front of a few miles during but two broadcasts. Think what might happen to these men in actual engagements. Yet it is not improbable that such broadcasts will be made from the front. John Royal, vice-president of the Nationa Broadcasting Company, returning Irom a tour of Europe recently, ad 18 mitted that he was considering covering the war in Ethiopia by radio. And war stimulates inventiveness to such an extent that a solution may be found for broadcasting from the front with less danger to the participants. But whether or not such broadcasts, with possible sacrifice of life, are worthwhile is not the important question. It's the matter of how ♦ they might imperil our peace and security and through that our privileges as listeners, which we're worried about. By showing you how such broadcasts can be accomplished, I can reveal to you the part that unfair censorship and vicious propaganda could play — things which would affect us directly as citizens and listeners. But first, there's another use to which radio might be put in time of war,' about which you should know. You should know because it's a dangerous, insidious use, close to home, difficult to detect. It concerns the secret use of our broadcasting stations by spies, by unfriendly agents of foreign nations at war. And I should, say right now, that if this were a pipe dream, our Army Intelligence service wouldn't have conceived plans for dealing with such activities. Most of us would probably never know such spy activities were ever going on. But let's assume you're a consistent, intelligent listener who doesn't mind trying his hand at a little amateur detecting for the United States Government. Now you know we're neutral, but you're not so foolish as to think there aren't certain sly men and (Continued on page 86) Left, the NBC page displays a transmitter of the type which will be in use for front-line broadcasting in the event of war. Above, George Hicks, NBC announcer, and his engineer-observer were wiped out during a sham attack which was part of the Army maneuvers held at Pine Camp, New York.