History of wireless telegraphy and broadcasting in Australia/Topical/Biographies/Donald Brader Knock/Notes

Donald Brader Knock - Transcriptions and notes

Brief Autobiography 1946 - Donald Brader Knock

Brief autobiographical summary in May 1946 issue of Australasian Radio World:

HAS been an active Ham for no less than 35 years, getting first insight into early day amateur radio in Colchester, England, in 1911. Can justly lay claim to be an "Old Timer" in radio. Born in Manchester, England, 1898. Started life as engineer apprentice and by 1916 was on active service World War I with R.N.A.S., serving in Middle East and Russia. Later served two years afloat as marine engineer with P. and O. Co. In radio trade in England with Sterling (now Marconiphone) Co., Burndept Co., and later engineer with BBC. Operated Ham station from London, G6XG, and was first G to QSO U.S.A. with low power (5 watts) on "95 metres" in 1924. In 1926 began to feel cramped in G. B. and came to Australia. Held position of C/Engr. with original Amplion Co., Sydney, in 1927, then Technical Editor of "Wireless Weekly" and "Radio in Australia and N.Z." Had established station A2NO shortly after settling in Sydney and this call sign quickly became known everywhere where there were Hams. Established radio stations at Wyndham, Nth. West Aust., for W.A. Government in 1930. Operated Ham station VK6NK from Wyndham and figured in radio rescue of stranded fliers Smith and Shiers. In 1931 designed and installed N.S.W. Country B/C station 2MO Gunnedah, but with radio journalism in blood returned to Sydney to become technical editor "Radio Monthly." During this period did considerable VHF work, some in conjunction with N.S.W. Police Dept. 1933 joined staff of Sydney "Bulletin" as editor "Australian Radio News" and in 1934 became Radio Editor of "The Bulletin." In between Ham activities held commission in Militia Sigs, and when September, ’39, struck went in to camp, as Lieutenant. Finished military service as Major, A.I.F. (Army Inspection) when obtained release from Army April, 1945, and placed on Reserve of Officers. Joined Philips organisation in June, 1945, and now engaged under Chief Engineer S. O. Jones on special developmental work.

Detailed Autobiography 1937 - Donald Brader Knock

Over 9 issues of Australasian Radio World from May 1937 to January 1938, Knock published a detailed autobiography focused on his amateur radio and broadcasting activities:

1937 05

25 Years In Amateur Radio (1)

In this biographical review of the growth of radio, the author takes readers back over twenty-five years, to the time when to every radio enthusiast a slider-tuned crystal set represented the last word in receiving equipment. By DON. B. KNOCK (VK2NO) (Radio Editor "The Bulletin")

IN a recent "Radio World" issue "W.J.P." says that the old timers are reticent; ageing oysters in their barnacle-encrusted shells, or words to that effect. Probably the old timer who has lived with, by, and for radio for a literal lifetime is inclined to become blase, but that doesn't mean to say, if he is a genuine "matured in the bottle" ham, that he has lost interest - far from it.

Admittedly some old timers have given up the game, but careful enquiry will reveal that it is always by force of circumstances; for business and other reasons, and after all the shiny metal that makes the world go round and feeds the junior Op. really must come first.

I suppose I can class myself as one of the very fortunate old timers of radio in that I have been able to keep myself lined up alongside it, with a few unavoidable digressions, ever since I introduced myself to the art. Circumstances again? Maybe, to some extent, but if a man sets his heart on something, he can usually find ways and means of keeping next to the thing he likes best. Which is one way of saying to the newcomer to radio.- "If you like it well enough, stick to it by hook or by crook. If you try hard enough and work hard enough, you can do just as well as the next man."

Radio is only a baby yet, and the world is only on the fringe of discovery. Supposing for instance there occurs some enormous cosmic upheaval in the near future. How do we know that by some agency the whole scheme of radio communication may not be reversed? By some freak of the universe, long waves may become "quasioptical" and the ultra-shorts may show entirely different reflective properties. Fantastic? Maybe, but nothing is impossible. Therefore a profound interest in ultra-short-wave experimentation might prove very useful some day.

First Radio Crystal Set. My experiences in radio go back to the adolescent period, when at the tender age of eleven, as a schoolboy in my Lancashire home town, I was attracted by an article in a boy's paper showing how to construct "The Boy's Own Wireless." It seemed simple. A wooden rolling pin (coaxed from the household kitchen), a piece of iron pyrites (from the school lab.), some bell wire and an ear piece, plus a condenser made from glass plates and foil from chocolate boxes, etc., constituted the parts.

Where the headphone came from I cannot recollect, but l do know that I sat for hours, weeks, and months with that old Bell telephone receiver fastened to my head, and an imposing looking twin spreader aerial of some kind fastened to the chimney, without hearing a sound – not even a crackle when lightning was around! And no wonder. The ear piece was of the 60-ohm variety, the detector was about as useful as a piece of cheese and a penknife, and the single slide tuning coil was a hit or miss affair.

This, be it understood, was in 1910-1911, when crystal detectors of any kind were a new development, and the magnetic and electrolytic detectors held full sway for commercial work.

A year went by, and interest flagged a little. Then providence intervened. Away on holiday in the South of England with the family, this small boy met a much older one who was no less than a wireless expert and an electrical engineer apprentice. An invitation to see his "den" followed.

First sight to gladden the eyes was a massive white painted mast in a garden, with a veritable maze of guys and insulated wires. Explanation revealed that this was an "umbrella" aerial. Inside the "shack" the amount of wonderful apparatus was breath-taking. Huge drain-pipe tuning coils wound with shiny black wire reached nearly to the ceiling. Bright copper helixes glittered entrancingly; and knobs and big glass plate condensers were everywhere. To top it all off, an intriguing rotary arrangement in a corner sporting a number of projections on the big disc introduced itself as a synchronous gap.

First Signal Heard From Eiffel Tower. While I looked and marvelled my new-found mentor put a pair of dinky little headphones over my ears, and looking at a clock said, "Now three minutes to eight. At 8 p.m. you will hear FL start sending his press."

As the city town hall clock boomed away on the last stroke, I heard what was to me the most beautiful sound I ever recall, my first radio signal. It was the old Eiffel Tower in Paris with his peculiar bugle note, blaring out the evening press.

And how that signal came through! Knobs were shifted a little, handles moving tuning condensers of the inter-leaved glass plate variety were jiggled a bit, and tuning coil sliders were adjusted, until the signal sounded very strong – about R6 in present day rating.

I saw, looked, and listened, and the radio bug bit deeper and deeper. It culminated in a still bigger thrill in the form of a raucous bellowing signal which was described to me as being from another amateur across the town.

Then this god-like person pulled switches, the rotary gap sprang into life, and I jumped with apprehension as the blue flame bit around the disc point with a deafening crescendo of morse code as he "went after" that other fellow.

That settled it. Whatever passing interest I had had in that futile boyish effort of a year previous was enhanced a thousandfold. I determined to be a wireless amateur by fair means or foul. After describing my poor efforts, I was presented with a nice sparkly piece of carborundum, an old but good pair of high resistance Sullivan phones, and a few odds and ends. That boy I had visited became in later years one of the Marconi Company's most prominent engineers.

Returning north, I proceeded to make the house unbearable with the smell of melting paraffin wax and shellac varnish, and conceived a weird and wonderful array of gear with the pretensions of a "wireless." I had no idea of wavelengths; I couldn't read morse more than about three words per, but I had plenty of confidence. Months went by again, and nothing happened, but presto – when thunderstorms abounded, I could distinctly hear the lightning flashes, and that was something at least!

Success At Last. And then, on a Sunday morning at 11 a.m., the unexpected happened. After moving sliders up and down along the 6-inch diameter coil with its miles of enamelled wire, and juggling around with the pressure of a steel point on the carborundum, the gods suddenly smiled. It was the old Eiffel Tower at last – I could recognise that spluttering note so well engraved upon my memory. Dashing up from the table to run downstairs and call the family to hear the miracle, I forgot, alas, that I still wore the headphones. With a clatter the small table came over and everything with it, and the entire family came running upstairs to see if I had been electrocuted or something. The parental scorn was withering, and believe it or not I couldn't for the life of me find those adjustments again in a hurry.

Meanwhile FL had finished his morning time signals, for such they were, and silence reigned supreme. It was the next week-end before I put things where I thought they had been, and sure enough, there were those dashes and ticks again. This time, the phones were laid gingerly aside and my victory over former scorn was complete.

With bated breath the detector was covered with a glass jam-jar and attention confined to moving sliders. Gradually I became aware of other sounds, buzzing high pitched whines, deep throaty roars, harsh scratchy sputtering. Although I didn't know it then, these were ships along the coast on the 600 metre range.

The Next Step. Gradually things got better and I studied and thought about the morse code. It lived with me, and I began to master it. Soon I could identify the call-sign of one of those stations, the most outstanding. It was GLV, the Liverpool coastal station. Then followed the realisation of the call-letters of the station GLV would be calling. In a year or so I could even identify prominent ships by the characteristic sound of the spark.

Meanwhile the multi-wire spreader aerial over the house was the subject of much comment and an object of wonder. It increased in size; so did the loading coils in my room, and then I was blessed with the achievement of being able to copy that old station of stations, Poldhu (MPD) in Cornwall. It was later when the war came, that an amateur wrote in the old "Wireless World" a poem that began with "Alas Poldhu, gone is thy blaring bugle note," for then the Post Office people descended and dismantled all amateur stations. But that is a story I will include in the next instalment of this biography.

Photo - 2NO in 1912

The author in 1912 – a schoolboy fired by the romance of radio communication.

Photo - 2NO at 16yo

VK2NO at 16 – "the guv'nor thought wireless a new-fangled contraption, and so I had to carry on as an engineer's apprentice."

Photo - Car radio in 1916

The latest in car radio – in 1916. During the war radio engineers spent much time developing mobile wireless equipment for use behind the lines, and this photograph shows an experimental radio-equipped car.

1937 06

25 Years In Amateur Radio . . . . (2)

The second instalment of a biography covering the early days of radio, and written for the "Radio World" by DON B. KNOCK (VK2NO) Radio Editor "The Bulletin."

BY this time, with signals audible, the urge came along to make them better and still better, and thus the writer started on the business of aerial experimentation. The idea of aerial improvement has been, and still is, his primary consideration through the years.

I had read all about Marconi and his reception across the Atlantic not many years previously by means of long wires supported by kites. Why not fly a kite and try the effect? No sooner thought of than it was in process of undertaking. By this time I had acquired two kindred spirits — fellow schoolmates — and had imbued them with some of my own enthusiasm.

A portable receiver of a kind was made up, and a massive kite built laboriously from bamboo and silk. From somewhere a few hundred feet of phosphor-bronze telephone wire was obtained, and things began to move.

Adjacent to the old home was a large-sized cricket-field in which we boys were wont to disport ourselves without arousing the undue ire of the committee. At least, we respected the pitch! This field was chosen for the trial, and on a very windy day, five or six boys could be seen struggling to hold the kite in restraint while bricks were attached as a tail.

Up she went with a rush, hands being cut and burnt as the wire whipped out. A concerted dive with handkerchief-wrapped fingers, and the wire was finally secured by winding it around a staunch wooden post, leaving the kite soaring placidly in the sky with several hundred feet of "aerial" reaching down to earth.

I busied myself with preliminary detector adjustments, and when all was considered ready, asked a friend to hand me the end of the wire hanging from the post, and dangling about two feet above earth. He reached for it, and what followed was a distinct surprise to us, and a very nasty one for the victim. A blue spark leapt out as his hand neared the wire, jumping about three inches in the process. Boylike, the assailed one retreated in fear, and no-one was game to go near that wire.

Static Electricity The Cause. What had happened was a natural sequence of events. A dry windy day, and the kite well up in the sky just under scudding clouds resulted in the accumulation of a hefty static charge on the aerial, which was insulated from earth by the wooden post. Ideas of connecting that aerial to the receiver were dismissed forthwith.

But how to get the kite down with out further shocks? Simple, really, if we had had the sense to throw a bare wire over the aerial and to let it touch earth, but nobody thought of it!

Picking up a chunk of stone, one of the party dashed it at the aerial wire near the post, and it parted with a twang. Away went our kite, propelled by a stiff wind, trailing about half a mile of twisting, snaking wire. It careered on over that field, reached the heart of the town, and caught up sacreligiously on the tower of the parish church.

En route the trailing wire crossed the overhead tramway cables, and sparks flew and wire melted. We didn't see that, but we heard about it afterwards through our respective parents in forceful terms. After that, kite aerials were OUT, and I have since thought how near we might have come to emulating Franklin, and meeting with tragedy, if a sufficiently strong static charge had lined up in that elevated aerial.

Getting On The Air. Experiments from then on were confined to home, and the idea of transmission began to arise. A license? — nobody ever thought about such things in those days. They were merely a formal matter. Application was made, and permission given gratis forthwith by the Post Office in encouragement of the new wireless art. A callsign with an "X" somewhere in it was issued. Prefixes were unknown, as the very idea of amateur international working was not even thought of at the time.

Anyway, with much labour and perspiration, an induction coil was constructed with a few miles of fine silk-covered wire, and behold, it gave a nice crackling spark when energised from a six-volt accumulator. With glass plate condensers the spark was fattened up nicely, a helix was constructed, a hand-key made, and the week-end afternoons and nights were rendered hideous for the household by the fitful crashing and singing across the gap as I and another boy a mile distant tried to work with each other. We did too, and thereby improved our morse knowledge considerably.

In time, we found that by using a simple buzzer connected to the aerials, we could work equally well over the distance. Heaven alone knows what the wavelengths were, for the signal from both ends was so broad as to have no noticeable peak, but it was wireless communication, and that was the main thing.

Time progressed, and in due course I became apprenticed as a mechanical engineer in a local steel-works. In between learning my trade, I must confess to having done several "nix" jobs for myself when the "gaffer" wasn't looking, and all those jobs were something or other for my wireless outfit.

Parental ruling said that I was going to be an engineer whether I liked it or not, and that there couldn't be any future for "this new fangled wireless." And so I tackled both jobs, with, unfortunately for my desires, wireless only as a hobby. Visions of walking the deck as a gold braided wireless operator at sea had been uppermost, but the "guvnor" was adamant. No wireless school for me.

Time went on, and in between learning to become a good fitter of steam engines and motor lorries, all kinds of wireless gadgets were constructed, with varying success. Then came the war, and things happened. A Post Office official arrived on the scene, sealed in boxes everything down to the last bit of tinfoil, took down my pride — the big white pole in the garden — and departed after handing me a receipt and instructions regarding the dire penalties of working wireless apparatus forthwith.

A year went by, and I must confess to having run the risk of being interned as a spy by getting together more gear; scrounged, it is true, from a marine friend. Indoor aerials were erected in all shapes and forms, but such was the insensitivity of my home-made detectors and gear that silence predominated.

Telephone Line As Aerial. However, it so happened that the next door house had a disused telephone circuit. A long wire led from a telephone pole across the road to an insulator on the side of that house, the wire terminating there. An idea was born. In the dead of night the fence was scaled and a thin insulated wire run around the walls into my den.

I wasn't game to risk transmission, but I had a great deal of enjoyment in copying the war bulletins from old "FL" and listening to the medley of activity among shipping. That aerial was miles long, and brought signals in galore!

1916 came along, and old school friends and older apprentices had gone into various services. Being big for my age I felt that I could do my bit also, and the climax came when a scornful flapper handed me a white feather as an intimation that I ought to be in uniform. Under the Munitions Act I was exempt from active service as a skilled worker, but that meant nothing to romantic ideas of adventure. So one day, an apprentice didn't clock in, and a naval recruiting petty officer had enrolled a mechanic for the Royal Naval Air Service, ostensibly 18 years old, but actually quite a bit younger.

The news was broken to the family, and before I realised I found myself in the old Crystal Palace in London, with a lot of other fellows, old and young, ready to take what was before us. Had I had time to think, I might have enrolled in the wireless section, but mechanical engineers were wanted for aero engines, and so I took the plunge in that direction. Anything before my late employers had time to find out where I was and bring me back, as under age!

It was a wet morning, and I had arrived at the Palace in sports coat and flannels. Inside, a roll was called, and a petty officer marched us up and down for two hours until the steam rose in clouds from us sorry, bedraggled recruits. Then we were handed eating utensils and were fed and re-heartened. Next, an important-looking fellow handed me a broom, with the order to "get busy and sweep this store out clean." Having heard all about naval discipline, I sprang to it and got the job over. This had a sequel three weeks afterwards, as I will relate later.

Photo of 2NO in 1918

The author at the door of the armament "workshop" (an aeroplane packing case) at Stavros, Macedonia, in 1918.

1937 07

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.

1937 08

25 Years In Amateur Radio . . . (4)

The fourth instalment of a biography dealing with radio in the early days, written for the "Radio World" by DON B. KNOCK, Radio Editor, "The Bulletin."

MUCH could be told of both unpleasant and congenial war experiences, but as they would occupy a volume, it is sufficient to say here that from the Bulgarian theatre of war we returned to Mudros, and carried on with the bombing of Constantinople.

It was during these operations that I had a very near shave in connection with an aerial. Two of we armourers were preparing a DH9 with 6.5-pound "pills" under the wings and a 230-pounder under the fuselage. Seated on the ground with my back to the tail, and with another fellow lifting the nose of the bomb, I almost had it in position in the frame when things happened.

Just behind my neck dangled the lead weight of the wireless aerial from the observer's cockpit. A W/T mechanic proceeded to test the gear, and pressed the key. A biting, excruciating spark hit me in the neck, and both of us handling that bomb got the full benefit. When we had recovered sufficiently to realise that we were still part and parcel of this world, we chased that W /T man in anger out of the cockpit.

Beyond a few bruises on the legs and cuts on the hands where the heavy bomb had dropped on us, no damage was done, but how easily it might have been otherwise! A solid spark from detonator to bomb casing would have been all necessary, but fortunately most of the spark discharge went to earth through our bodies.

Experiences in South Russia. When Johnny Turk threw in the towel, we kicked our heels for a few weeks in anticipation of England, home, and beauty. That wasn't to come for another year, for the squadron was suddenly re-formed, and in short order I found myself willy-nilly in Southern Russia as a cog in the wheel of the Caspian "police force," ostensibly to protect British interests against the revolutionary onslaught. Here I made closer contact with the wireless section again, and have vivid memories of the work done by our little quarter K.W. spark outfit with Douglas engine and rotary gap.

Outside the port of Petrovsk, where we were stationed, stood a massive wireless tower and the buildings of a Russian station. In a previous retreat before Denikin's white armies, the revolutionaries had completely destroyed what had been an excellent telefunken station of the 5 K.W. variety. Nothing could be used. Even the winch at the base of the tower had been wrecked, the cables released, and the foundations on one side dynamited. It was too tough a job to attempt re-construction under circumstances of swift action, and so our own 80-foot masts were erected, and an aeroplane packing case used for a "shack."

"Souvenired" Radio Gear. Much happened in that year, and in the end swift evacuation was imperative. The revolutionaries were sweeping all before them, and it was a case of "get out quick or take the consequences." British armed intervention in Russia came to an end. There was only time to remove a little equipment – most of it was destroyed. With all the instinct of a "ham," however, I scrounged a nice pair of Ericsson high resistance headphones and some useful gadgets, stowed them at the bottom of my kit, and in due course these treasures reached England safely with me (despite kit inspections).

It was as an older young man that I left London for home, once again a civilian, and wondering what to do in future. Like most returned men, I possessed a neat war gratuity, and after a hectic week or two of celebration with old service pals, my thoughts turned to a motor cycle and, of course – wireless.

The old London Wireless Society was formed; the P.M.G. lifted the ban on amateur wireless, and clubs began to spring up all over England. I became a foundation member of the Southport (Lancashire) Wireless Experimental Society, met kindred spirits, and "ham" radio started in earnest.

Valves Selling At £2/10/-. With the war over, government surplus stores were selling ex-service wireless gear at ridiculous prices, and I obtained a C MK III trench amplifier for £3. This was a wonderful thing in those times, with three stages of transformer-coupled "note magnification"! The price of valves was another matter. The French R valves were the only ones available, and at what a price! They cost £2/10/- each, had greedy filaments, and lasted about six weeks before burning out.

I made up a massive loose-coupler tuner (honeycombs weren't thought of then) with a galena detector, and hitched the amplifier after them. One of the Ericcson 'phones went behind a long brass phonograph horn to make what must have been one of the first loudspeakers in England.

Melba Broadcast From Chelmsford. That year occurred the epic broadcast from Chelmsford (on 2,500 metres) of Madam Melba; and myself, family and friends listened entranced to that historic broadcast. I shudder to think of the quality of reproduction now, but wireless broadcasting of any kind was a miracle then, and the fact that anything even resembling a voice could be heard and understood was marvellous.

Then came the tests from the liner "Victorian" as she crossed the Atlantic, and after this the famous "2MT Writtle" station opened up, with a versatile announcer in charge named Eckersley. That announcer was destined a little later to become England's number 1 radio man, first Chief Engineer of the early B.B.C.

Meanwhile I had to start work, and the "guv'nor" insisted that I continue engineering. I got a job as improver-apprentice in a big Liverpool shipyard, but again wireless took up all my interest. Improving time finished, needs must that I justify myself, and before I realised it I was engineer afloat with the P. and O. Company.

My First Visit To Sydney. In 1922 I first visited Sydney as junior engineer on the Naldera. Most of my time off watch was spent in the company of "sparks," and it was while tied up at Circular Quay that I first heard old 2CM's programme (Chas. Maclurcan) on 440 metres.

Two years at sea were sufficient to prove to me that my interests lay elsewhere, and against the wishes of an angry parent, I "came ashore" and secured a position as sales representative with a large North of England motor manufacturer. Selling cars and trucks came easy to me, and I flourished, but all my spare cash went in radio.

All this time broadcasting had been getting a hold, and the wireless business was growing rapidly. From being a hobby of young men looked upon as fanatics, it had grown to an industry for which the public was clamouring. It was time to make another move, and so I joined the Sterling Telephone Company as sales engineer, moving thence to the old Burndept Co., on the servicing side.

Naturally, being employed commercially in radio, the amateur game at last came into its own, and unhampered I entered the phase of real DX, under the call-sign G6XG. The method of licensing "hams" in England is quite different to that obtaining in Australia. Firstly, an artificial (dummy) aerial licence is given, and when the experimenter is considered advanced enough, he applies for a "radiating" licence. Mere reasons of DX and suchlike are not enough. The actual technical reasons as to why the transmission licence is needed must be given.

A Transmitting Licence At Last. It took quite a long time before my well-thought-up reasons satisfied the P.M.G., and after many months of correspondence, backed up by representation from the R.S.G.B., the Department eventually succumbed. Quite a difference to pre-war affairs, but wireless was no longer a "willo'-the-wisp," and the race was on.

It was in 1924, in London, that I established my first post-war station, which ran entirely from accumulator power. The house had no electrical power, and I had to do the best I could. Around 200 metres was the order of things, and G6XG of 1924 sprouted a massive multi-wire cage "T" aerial, a ten-wire counterpoise, a single DE5 valve in a "reversed feedback" circuit, an ex-army "TVT" unit (spark coil power supply), and a three-coil receiver with "swinging coil" reaction.

I made an awful noise around London N.W.8., but I reached out. A great thrill was the working of old Finnish 2NM as my best DX on 200 metres, and Frenchmen, Belgians. and Dutchmen I worked by the score. I still have dozens of old original 200-metre QSL cards from those days, and they are among my treasured possessions.

Gradually the B.C.L.'s around my district became aware of the fact that the terrific noise all across their dials came from a "ham." A petition went in to the P.M.G. to stop me transmitting, and the Department descended in just wrath. Result – out with the spark-coil I.C.W., and in with pure C.W. The M.L. Magneto Co., of Coventry, lent me a dinky little rotary converter that gave 500 volts D.C. at 40 m.a., and then things began really to happen.

John Reinartz (then U1XAM) had launched his famous "Reinartz" receiver on an interested "ham" world, and I duplicated laboriously a faithful copy. How that receiver perked!

Getting Down To The Short Waves. Meanwhile, the famous U1MO-F8AB contact across the Atlantic on 100 metres had taken place, and "200" was relegated to the discard. All the G's got busy on 100 metres, and with the "Yanks" on 85 metres, what a great time we had. It was quite an effort to get "down" to 100, too! There was no 10-watts regulation for G's in those days, and most of the gang, Marcuse (G2NM), Partridge (G2KF), Hogg (G2SH), Simmonds (G2OD) and Goyder (G2SZ) were using power, and plenty of it, on Marconi T250's and similar valves. I had to be content with my little DE5 (similar to a 201A).

My First American Contact. Nevertheless, my puny little D.C. converter got me "across the pond" for my first American contact with U1BHM, and the high-power gang couldn't believe their ears! It had been worth lugging my heavy accumulators to the charging station a mile up the road after all, as this was the first trans-Atlantic low-power QSO. The possibilities of QRP began to be realised, and some marvellous work was done by old G5SI and G6TD with similar equipment to my own.

At this stage I recall an historic event. Listening around 85 metres at about 7 p.m. one foggy winter's night, I heard a weak but perfectly readable signal calling "lCCM de Fisk." That signal (as I heard in later years) originated from the experimental station of Mr. E. T. Fisk, at Vaucluse, in Sydney, and he was calling the Elettra, Marconi's yacht.

Z4AA Was First ZL Worked. Then came the Antipodean era! Most G's had worked with a station in Buenos Aires signing CB8, and it was considered that Australia or New Zealand couldn't be too much to hope for. Cecil Goyder, of Mill Hill school, staggered the world by working early one morning with Z4AA (Frank Bell) of Palmerston South, in New Zealand. This was on 95 metres at the English end. Goyder (now chief engineer of "All India Radio") couldn't believe that it was genuine until a cable arrived from Bell in confirmation.

What a rush! The air was filled with "T-E-S-T NZ, AUST de G – ." Then the Australians broke through. Simmonds, of G2OD, worked Max Howden (A3BQ), and Chas. Maclurcan (A2CM) appeared on the scene. The globe was encircled – there seemed little else to do. Considering the then comparatively inefficient gear of those times, this amateur work around the 100-metre mark was no small achievement.

Photo of 2NO's station in 1924

A station operated by the author in England in 1924. Undoubtedly "haywire," but a good station as they went in those days.

1937 09

25 Years In Amateur Radio . . . (5) By DON B. KNOCK Radio Editor, "The Bulletin."

In this instalment the author tells of an impulse that brought him halfway across the world to Australia, and of his early experiences in amateur radio here.

MY own fly-power gear wasn't powerful enough to reach the Antipodes, and so I teamed up with a pal, Bloxam of G5LS, and punched the key from this South London station for a while until once again, business affairs demanded a move.

From "ham" radio I graduated to the more serious side of radio transmission by securing a position with the old British Broadcasting Co. as maintenance engineer, being appointed to the Leeds-Bradford relay in Yorkshire. This relay centre fed two transmitters about 15 miles apart, from the control point and main studio in Leeds, and apart from regular station and control duties, much of the work was in connection with OB's.

I was often to be found lugging amplifiers and microphones about, to Harrogate, York, Scarborough, and various theatres. The work proved interesting, and broadcasting apparatus as used to-day brings a smile at the thought of the antiquated gear of those days.

An amusing but rather disconcerting incident occurred one day, when my duty schedule called for the day at Bradford. The transmitter there was housed on the top floor of a dilapidated warehouse, and once the engineer on duty started up at 11 a.m., he was marooned there without a break on his lonesome until midnight. A motor-cycle combination was available for transportation, but this was such a "grid" that one preferred to use the train and travel comfortably.

The Wrong Train! That morning was a murky, foggy one as I waited on the Leeds station platform for the train. It was due out at 10.25 a.m., but no train showed up until nearly 10.40 a.m. Taking a seat along with morning paper, I glanced up to note that the train was apparently making up for lost time, as, contrary to usual, she hurtled straight through Shipley junction, just outside Bradford.

Then along the corridor came a ticket collector. I handed over my Bradford ticket, whereupon the gold-braided one remarked that I "would be a h-- of a time getting there, as this was the Carlisle express!" Carlisle – non-stop – about 150 miles north, and I was due to get that transmitter radiating before 11.30!

At Skipton, north of Bradford, the express stopped to pick up two special passengers, and I nipped out. A train was just leaving for Bradford on the opposite platform, and I made it. Alas, it ambled into Bradford at 11.50 a.m., and I reached the station at almost mid-day.

All land-line indicators from control in Leeds were down, and when I got through to the Chief, his observations were sulphurous to a degree. Furthermore, an ambulance was screaming its way toward me in case I had been electrocuted. Anyway, I never did know whether Chief Engineer Eckersley in London believed the faithful report I returned regarding the fog and the train mixup, but things never seemed to be the same. Complete silence from a B.B.C. station with dealers waiting to demonstrate receivers, to say nothing of housewives missing their morning cookery chat, was akin to sacrilege!

Back To Australia. A year of broadcasting experience passed, and once again I sought a change. Radio was moving ahead quickly, but somehow the wanderlust had not worked off since war service and subsequent seafaring.

Back in the home town in Lancashire, I passed one day a shipping office. Australia loomed large on a poster, and without hesitation in I walked and booked a passage on a ship leaving London in three weeks. It was an adventurous step, inasmuch that by the time I had worked out all it would cost me, I would arrive in Sydney with a sadly depleted pocket-book.

Again I spent most of that passage "upstairs" with "Sparks." Out of odds and ends I conjured up a short-wave receiver, and we had much fun logging amateurs from everywhere. By the time I reached Sydney in April, 1926, the radio business had been through a bad slump for some reason or other. Nevertheless, through the agency of a Sydney friend I had met in London, I stepped into a job of sorts in a little wireless business in the city and began to look around.

Amateur radio naturally came up again. Many of the early Sydney amateurs were already known to me by QSL correspondence, and in short order I was invited to attend a W.I.A. meeting in the old rooms in Elizabeth Street. It was there I met a really fine bunch of fellows, simply brimming with hospitality, and in those days a "G" ham was a novelty. Here was amateur radio plus good fellowship as I had always imagined it to be.

On The Air As A2NO. After that meeting, two members approached me and asked if I intended getting on the air. Could a duck swim? These two were brothers; one was the original A2TM, Haswell Turner, and the other, Harry. The latter had no "ham" ticket, couldn't punch a key, but had a lot of apparatus and enthusiasm. The result was that I joined forces with Harry and quickly approached the P.M.G.'s Department for a licence.

After due consideration, Mr. Malone, the genial Chief Inspector of Wireless in Melbourne, granted me a special licence on the strength of my old English licence, on condition that I took the A.O.C.P. in the prescribed time. There was not much argument regarding power for Australian amateurs in those days, and in mid-1926 A2NO went into action with 250 watts at a location in Cremorne, Sydney. Since then the call 2NO has hardly ever been off the air in various locations.

That pioneer station piled up some good work. Harry did the engineering, and my job was handling the dials and key. In short order I was yarning away on 32 metres with old friends back in England, and life took on a very pleasant aspect. It was at that station that much experimentation was done with antenna systems, and soon there sprouted between the two lofty sky-sticks what was really the first "Zepp" feed antenna in this part of the world before "QST" began to deal with the idea.

Try as we would, we could never clean up the note from the Hartley transmitter, despite expenditure of much cash on filter condensers. We even made up a huge "electrolytic" with aluminium pie dishes, glass strips, and borax, and it withstood 2,000 odd volts!

It was only long afterwards that we discovered the reason for that bad note, which sounded something like tearing silk, but reached all over the world. The high voltage transformer stood hard up against the "shack" wall, which carried a shelf holding the transmitter, with large diameter copper tube coils on glass rods.

It was a massive ex-navy transformer, and it had loose laminations that chattered. The vibration was carried up the wall to the tank circuit, and as the coils merely rested on the glass tubes, they shimmied slightly, but quite enough to modulate the signal almost as if raw A.C. were applied to the plates of the old T250's. If we had only rested that transformer on shock-absorbing material away from the wall, the note would have been at least smooth R.A.C.

Two Years Of Key Punching. That year and 1927 I seldom slept. The DX bug bit hard, and the week-ends particularly would find me glued to the operating table, hardly deigning to look up for a cup of tea. Lasting world-wide friendships were made, and there was always keen competition between A2TM, A2BK, A2YI and A2NO. From 32 metres we explored 20 metres and worked Europeans all through the day, particularly during 1927.

I well recall the occasion when Belgian 4AU told me to inform A2DY up in Gordon, N.S.W., that he had been "R7 here for three or four hours." A2DY had a lone 201A-Hartley outfit, with about 10 watts input in comparison to our 250 watts or more. My own signal report was R7! Don Lindsay (now in A.W.A.'s laboratory) got remarkable efficiency from his little station of those days.

My First C.C. Transmitter. Then came a new era. "QST" (my bible for years) had been talking crystal control, and it was decided that something ought to be done about it. Harry Kauper, of Adelaide (A5BG), had made a start, and his 32-metre crystal signal was a source of joy and envy. Through the late Clair Foster (W6HM), a crystal was obtained from U.S.A., and the job of building the gear began. That crystal, incidentally, cost us around £10 in those days.

Starting off with a 210 oscillator, 210 doubler, and De Forest H tube buffer, driving a T250, we eventually got on the air. It was the first C.C. amateur station in N.S.W., though we only beat Chas. Maclurcan (A2CM) by a day or two.

Then came disaster. Experiments were undertaken with various forms of crystal oscillators, using our lone and expensive piece of quartz. One day Harry · left a partly completed breadboard oscillator on the workbench with the crystal in the holder, which consisted simply of two polished pennies.

Another man who used this bench for odd jobs picked up the breadboard unit and placed it on one end on the floor. Later in the day somebody brushed out the floor of the shack and swept all the debris into the dustbin. Unfortunately our crystal had slipped out of the holder, and had been among all the odds and ends of spaghetti, wire, etc. Wild thoughts of a visit to the Council incinerator were uppermost, but were ruled out as being too much like searching for the proverbial needle in a haystack. The man who shifted that unit was most unpopular!

We visited various opticians in search of suitable spectacle lenses. While the process of examining, cutting and grinding was proceeding, the fact of a silent station chafed, and back went the old 32-metre "rock-crusher." Again that raspy note tore across the seven seas, and all was well.

Nearly a Silent Key. Around this time I nearly came to an untimely end, when sleepily, somewhere around 3 a.m., I put my hands where they would have been safer in my pockets. For a fraction of a second I took the full kick from the H.T. transformer, 4,000 volts across the outside. I came back to earth about half an hour later, lying across the shack floor, very groggy about the knees, and a little burnt at the fingers. The transmitter was still radiating merrily; The house was about 30 feet distant from the shack, and nobody would have been any the wiser until hours later if anything serious had happened.

Old timers of those days on 32 metres will recall some of the unusual and outstanding DX stations – for example, JKZB in Tokio, SK2 in Borneo, the original OP1HR (Manila, Philippines), and LA1X in Stavanger, Norway. (This latter station I kept skeds with every morning at 6 a.m. Sydney time for months, and never failed to make contact). QRM from thousands of "ham" stations as in these days was almost unknown. FO5X in Johannesburg, G2NM, G2OD, G5XY, NU6HM, NU6AM, NU9DNG, and hundreds of others remain in the memory, and the contacts show in the old log book.

It was in 1927 that commercial radio decided that the amateurs had too much to themselves, and that fateful Washington Conference resulted in the allocation of the bands mainly as they are to-day. With the passing of 32 metres, the Australian amateur lost the finest DX medium that ever was. Those who remember, and now listen occasionally to the overseas broadcasters around the 31/32-metre mark, know that it was the amateur and nobody else who paved the way.

I often wonder what would have been the position if, when in the early days, "200 metres and below" was thrown to amateurs had been taken by them in conjunction with International legal agreements that this should for all future time be strictly amateur territory! Amateur radio might have been very wealthy to-day by sub-letting shortwave channels to commercial interests! Instead of which, despite any assertion to the contrary, amateur radio is literally fighting for International existence. There are people who would take from the amateur entirely what little is left to him.

But wise governments encourage their amateurs as much as possible, and in this respect Australians are indeed fortunate. The VK amateur of to-day enjoys many privileges barred to his fraternity overseas, and the Wireless Institute of Australia plays a big part in this respect.

During 1927-28, I had taken to writing occasional pars for the radio publications of the day, dealing mostly with DX achievements from A2NO.

The published description of my pet receiver led to the permanent filling of a staff vacancy on the old "Radio in Australia and N.Z.," together with the "Wireless Weekly" of those days. That receiver was rather queerly named the "Go-Getter," and how it caught on! Probably many readers of these words well remember that receiver and the subsequent "All-Empire." The latter was the first metal chassis receiver in this part of the world, and the first to realise the advantages of the screen-grid valve as a T.R.F. amplifier for high frequencies.

Photo of 2NO's station in 1926

The old original A2NO station in 1926, then located at Cremorne, Sydney. Immediately in front of the author are the crystal oscillator and buffer stages, with a T250 final and MRI rectifiers on the right.

1937 10

25 Years In Amateur Radio . . . (6)

The sixth instalment of a biography covering the early days of radio, written for the "Radio World" . . . By DON B. KNOCK

THE "All Empire" receiver as introduced in 1928 was the first to use the newly-developed screengrid valve as R.F. amplifier for the short waves, and it worked so well that at least two Sydney radio dealers "made hay while the sun shone." Also, a boom in aluminium followed, for after this the familiar wooden baseboard and bakelite panel were "out."

Radio On Trans-Pacific Flight. It was with the original "All Empire" receiver that I had one of the greatest thrills of my life. Hardly was it completed when news came of the start of the most magnificent trans-ocean flight of all in the history of aviation. The late Sir Charles Kingsford Smith, then relatively unknown to the general public, had pulled the old "Southern Cross" into the air from Oakland airport, U.S.A., with full tanks, and with his co-pilot, Charles Ulm, navigator Lyons and wireless operator Warner, was heading for Australia via Honolulu and Fiji.

In those days the shortwave bands were not so congested with the vast number of commercial stations as now, and a few hours after leaving Oakland, the I.C.W. signal from KHAB, the "Southern Cross," was heard giving flying conditions and position reports. KHAB carried a special T.P.T.G. transmitter of 50 watts rating, designed by Heintz and Kaufman, and the signal was received consistently in Sydney throughout the whole of the flying time to Australia.

One could visualise the 'plane forging through bad weather as the signal varied owing to the swing of the trailing aerial. On several occasions the signal was picked up and re-broadcast by 2BL, Sydney, and it was amusing to hear subsequent opinions of listeners to the effect that they "could distinctly hear the roar of the engines." What they heard was the rise and fall in pitch of the wind-driven alternator.

Getting Out On "10". It was around 1928 that Australian amateurs began to take a serious interest in 10 metres, and several made a start with transmitters of sorts. In Sydney, Clive St. John (VK2RX) co-operated with myself, and together we succeeded in putting signals between Rockdale and Randwick. Nothing was heard of interstate stations until 1929, when 4th, 5th and 3rd districts began to break through, followed by New Zealanders, Hawaiians, and finally Americans. Contacts speedily followed.

The great turning point in amateur radio affairs had also arrived about this time, when the rulings of the 1927 Washington Conference came into action. It was good-bye to 32 metres, the most useful band amateurs had ever enjoyed, or are ever likely to. The big advantage of 32 metres, apart from its wonderful DX capabilities, was the fact that one could chat to overseas fellows with little or no QRM. Most overseas stations, with the exception of a few favoured Englishmen and Europeans, were on 45 metres, or 39 to 42 metres.

Australians and New Zealanders enjoyed immunity from congestion, and QSO's were rarely of the "73 CUL OM" variety. The rag-chews were long and interesting. To give up 32 metres and wedge into 7,000-7,300 k.c. was quite a blow, but the amateur has a habit of clearing obstacles, and with "QST" showing the way, transmitters and receivers were cleaned up to meet the new conditions. We still had 20 metres, however, and that band has since proved to be the band of bands for easy DX.

In 1930 an opportunity presented itself to undertake radio communication work in the "wide open spaces," and so I accepted an appointment at Wyndham Meatworks, North-West Australia, to install and maintain a system of shortwave radio telephone communication. The scheme was to link up cattle-drafting centres and stations with the works. The apparatus was constructed in Sydney, and consisted of a 100-watt key and 'phone station, signing VIX on 55 metres, a launch station (VJQX), and a mobile station (6JU) for inland testing.

Static "One Continuous Roar." Arriving at Wyndham in early March, I got an inkling of the hopelessness of radio reception there during the rainy season. I had heard static before, but never anything like that. It was one continuous roar. The receiver was stowed away until such time as the weather gods relented and the blaze of lightning around the sky disappeared.

Before leaving the East, I had arranged for an amateur call-sign, which was granted as VK6NK. How useful this was to prove I little realised at the time. During the bad weather the station VIX was connected up and tested, and aerials erected. The receiver was modelled on the lines of the faithful "All Empire," and proved very sensitive, so sensitive that a bad snag was encountered from the start.

It had been necessary to site the station in a large store quite close to the works power house. When the two 100 k.w. D.C. generators about 150 feet distant were in action, the din can be well imagined! Something had to be done about it, and for certain reasons the station could not be moved. Came a headachy period of testing special receiving aerials. With a vertical aerial consisting of lead-covered cable, with the sheathing earthed, it was possible to hear the stronger amateurs on 40 metres.

Doublet Solves The Problem. During a contact with VK6MO, he described to me in detail particulars of a doublet referred to in "QST," using twisted flex feeders, and suggested I try it. This was erected, with one half of the doublet vertical and the other half directly underneath and horizontally in the form of a circle. The results were amazing. The din from the generators subsided to a low level, and R4 signals could be heard on 40 metres. On 20, results were even better. No wonder that in recent years radio journals have popularised the transposed feeder doublet as an aid to overcoming radio-inductive QRM.

The transmitter for VK6NK consisted of a T.P.T.G. oscillator using a Philips MB1/50, power being taken from a rotary converter running from the works 230 volts D.C. supply. When not engaged in working with VIX and the other stations, VK6NK practically lived on the air on 20 and 40 metres, using a 40 metre "Zepp" with series and parallel tuned 50-foot feeders.

Reception conditions were peculiar at this location, for right behind Wyndham Meatworks is the vast hill known as the Bastion. On lower frequencies, this huge mass of ironstone effectively blocks off all signals from the south in a direct line. So complete is the cut-off that ships approaching Wyndham are able to hear southern broadcasters quite well until within 200 yards of the jetty, when signals completely disappear.

One refrigeration engineer, owner of a very fine American all-wave receiver which he used for entertainment in his cabin, came to me in perplexity to find out what was wrong with the receiver. All he could hear when tied up at the jetty were Japs, Chinese, and the Philippinos. Short waves, however, are no respecters of hills, and have a habit of leaping them, and so 20 metres proved the stepping stone to Sydney for amateur contacts from VK6NK.

Toward the end of April that year I was informed by VK2RX on 20 metres that a Ryan monoplane, "City of Sydney," was leaving Mascot aerodrome on a flight to England via Wyndham, and that she carried radio. Would I look out for signals? A request like that gives added interest to radio, and so the receiver went into action with long periods of searching for VMZAB, known to be somewhere around 34 metres.

Signals Fade Out. One day, about noon, I picked up a strong carrier wave, varying somewhat. Then it was interrupted to slowly sign "VMZAB," with information to the effect that the 'plane had left Newcastle Waters and was heading for Wyndham. The signal was held strongly for two hours or more, when suddenly it decreased in strength and at the same time crept along the dial slowly. Eventually it faded completely out. What had happened?

Some intuition warned me that the 'plane had made a landing, and that the weakening of the signal, plus the variation of frequency, was due to the increasing proximity of the earth as she came down. An hour elapsed, and then came the weak but certain "SOS de VMZAB" repeated several times. The signal was obviously in the "skip" area for reception at my location, but fortunately, at this lunch time period for the works, much of the machinery closed down for an hour or so.

Eventually the text following the SOS calls was deciphered, and was to the effect that "we have been forced down with a broken camshaft. Believe somewhere near Rosewood. Not far from a river."

That was enough for action. Hurriedly putting VK6NK on the air on 20, an "SOS Sydney" call was sent out and was immediately answered by VK2NS in Bathurst. Details were passed on and Evans telephoned Mascot aerodrome. At this stage it became necessary to keep in touch both with the signals from VMZAB and the 20-metre band, so two receivers were used, with one headphone from each, and connected to separate aerials.

Meanwhile, the attention of VK2JP in Sydney had been attracted, and a lengthy period of emergency traffic commenced. The works officials were notified, and local police and bushmen studied maps in an endeavour to place the possible location of the 'plane.

Photo of 2NO and station, Wyndham 1930

The author in the radio room at Wyndham, North-West Australia, in 1930.

Another Photo of 2NO and station, Wyndham 1930

Another view of the author and his radio shack at Wyndham.

1937 11

25 Years In Amateur Radio . . . (7)

The seventh instalment of a biography covering the early days of radio, written for the "Radio World" . . .By DON B. KNOCK, Radio Editor, "The Bulletin."

JACK PIKE, of VK2JP, is about the oldest active amateur in Australia, and a key-puncher of no mean repute. When he realised the emergency, he "sat in" on VK6NK and put daily business in the background.

Some idea of the traffic handled on this occasion can be gained when I say that almost 20,000 words were handled over a period of two or three days, and one of the QSO's went on for over nine hours nonstop. I shudder to think of an attempt to duplicate such traffic in these days, with the poor old 20-metre band seething with 'phones from all over the world! Then it was an "open go" and the devil take the hindmost on the key!

At this stage of operation from Wyndham Meatworks, the big machinery had not fully started up on the working season; consequently a small Diesel engine ran a puny 230-volt D.C. generator for lighting the offices and residences at night, until cut off at 10.30 p.m. Normally this was satisfactory, but often, when in the middle of traffic with VK2JP, the voltage would drop to around 100, and lights would dim to nothing. Then 2JP had to wait while I stormed around trying to find who was using an electric kettle or ironing pants! A few expletives, and off would go the load, and traffic proceeded.

The first day had gone by, and at intervals VMZAB was sending that plaintive SOS, asking for help and, above all, food. A search party had been organised, and was threading its way through the long spear grass in the direction where it was thought the 'plane lay. They returned, disheartened — no sign! (Later it transpired, that they had been only 10 miles away, with a mountain range between).

Reports of the search party were passed on to Sydney, and meanwhile organisation at Mascot aerodrome had progressed to the extent of getting a big three-engined Fokker ready to come North and search. It was not needed, for radio eventually saved the day.

Missing 'Plane Found. On the third day, another search party was equipped under Sgt. King, of the W.A. police, with bushman Bill Flinders, of Wyndham town, included. Instructions were given to the effect that if they found the 'plane, the pilot should immediately call me and let me know.

Another day and a half passed, and sitting in the operating position in that corrugated iron-walled radio room was no joke in the heat of the North-West afternoon sun. At 2.30 p.m. this day there had been a long period of silence from VMZAB. It was obvious that the batteries were getting weaker, and soon there would be no juice left for transmission. I had called them repeatedly in the hope that a receiver was on board, until Sydney notified me otherwise.

Suddenly that weak signal was heard calling, "Knock, Knock, Wyndham — Sgt. King's party arrived O.K. All safe now." What a relief! In three minutes Pike had word away down in Sydney, and in another fifteen, newspapers were out on Sydney's streets with the news.

In three days' time Dave Smith, pilot of the 'plane, and his engineer, Wally Shiers, arrived at the works. They described vividly their experiences, and how Flinders had instinctively driven his motor truck straight through the dense speargrass almost to the stranded 'plane. They stayed at Wyndham while a new camshaft arrived by air from the South, and Shiers, aviation engineer par excellence, went back and fitted it to the engine in the staggering heat while being eaten alive by mosquitoes and flies.

In a few weeks' time the 'plane was ready again, and I enjoyed a radio test flight with Smith. The Kimberley country around Wyndham looks magnificent from a few thousand feet —a well-watered country. Early one morning they took off on resumption of the flight to England. Crossing the Timor, the signal from their baby transmitter, powered from 300 volts of "B" battery, romped in until they landed at Bima. They never reached England, running short of fuel in the Siamese forests, and crashing on landing. Neither was hurt.

A few months later I was shocked to find myself copying Sydney Press one night to the effect that young Dave Smith had been killed at Mascot in an accident. To-day, Wally Shiers is Chief Engineer of Airlines of Australia Ltd. — a man with flying in his blood and modern aero engines at his command. He has good reason to know the vital importance of emergency radio communication for aeroplanes flying anywhere over Australia. Shiers is the same Sgt. Shiers who made the historic flight from England with the late Sir Ross Smith just after the War.

Experiments With a Portable. During that year in the North-West there was plenty of opportunity to get inland and see much of the country. The hospitality of the settlers is outstanding, and a visitor is speedily made to feel at home. The mobile station 6JU went with me on these travels, and many interesting effects were noticed in shortwave communication.

One of the most interesting places for remarkable reception is La Crosse island, at the mouth of the Cambridge Gulf. A night was spent on this island, when three of us arrived by launch to run tests with VIX. Only a two-valve "blooper" receiver was used, but the whole world seemed to appear in great strength on the dial. The strength of American amateurs on 40 metres as early as noon was phenomenal. But for the water problem, this island should be an ideal place for a radio centre for flying boats on the overseas air-mail.

La Crosse, incidentally, is a laying and hatching sanctuary for turtles, and hundreds of the little fellows were seen emerging from the warm sand and flopping their way to the water to get their first swim. It is the island from where De Rougemont is reputed to have crossed to the mainland on the back of a turtle.

A Fortnight In Perth. At the conclusion of the season, the works' activity ceased, and I shipped to Perth en route home, spending two weeks with the G.O.M. of radio there, Wally Coxon (VK6AG), and meeting the very enthusiastic and hospitable bunch of VK6's, many of whom I had chatted with from VK6NK.

Back in Sydney, I found that life had taken on a dreary aspect. The notorious "depression" was in full swing, and the outlook was anything but pleasant. Trade was stagnating, but broadcasting was at least alive and doing, so a business offer in connection with a proposed country "B" station at Gunnedah, N.S. W., was accepted.

This station (2MO) started off with next to nothing in the way of finance, and with a broadcast transmitter fashioned mainly from such suitable components as had been available at VK2NO.

Despite the QRP, this station in its early makeshift form reached out with a good signal, and reports began to flow in from all over Australia and overseas. Technical difficulties were innumerable, as the town in those days had 240 volts D.C. It was a case of rotary converters for filaments and motor-driven generators for H.T.

As most readers will know, "B" class stations derive their revenue solely from advertising time. Imagine in 1931 trying to solicit air advertising in a wool and wheat district when prices were down almost to zero! Stores wouldn't advertise as their business was all "credit." City stations were "in clover," but the small country station had a very hard road to tread in those times.

Back To The "Big Smoke." After a month or two with little or no financial return, and power bill, etc., soaring still higher, I decided that two partners could not make ends meet satisfactorily under such a handicap, and disposed of my share. As much as I had grown to love the Australian countryside, it was a case of back to the "big smoke."

One man could manage where two could not, and I am glad to say that my former partner weathered the economical storm. Today his station is a permanency known to listeners far and wide. Back in Sydney, some radio service work and trading was undertaking, with occasional contributed articles to radio and daily newspapers, and back on the air went VK2NO. A keen amateur cannot be kept QRT for long, and gradually the station assumed previous proportions and once again reached out all over the world. The YL became the XYL, and in due course came to know what "BCL QRM" and other jargon implied.

Photo of 2NO in 1930

The author on horseback at Wyndham, North-West Australia, where he spent a year installing and operating a shortwave radio telephony communication system at Wyndham Meatworks.

1937 12

25 Years In Amateur Radio . . . (8)

In this instalment the author describes how in 1932, in company with a few fellow-VK's he commenced exploring the possibilities of the ultra short waves. Written for the "Radio World" . . . By DON B. KNOCK, Radio Editor, "The Bulletin."

After a period of radio sales and service work, experimental work was carried out with a limited amount of equipment, and using low power, from Bronte, Sydney. This location could be classed as about one of the world's worst. The residence was below road level, being reached by a long flight of steps, and the consequence was that an aerial system, even on 50-foot masts, was only two or three feet above road level.

Despite this severe handicap, a fair amount of excellent communication was obtained on 40 and 20 metres with overseas stations, and some satisfactory 10-metre work was also done with interstate stations. The aerial was efficient, which explained the results. It was a centre-fed 135-foot top running North and South, and despite the heavy screening, reached out very well. The experiences with the station in this undoubtedly poor location brought home the realisation that there can never be a totally impossible location for shortwave communication. It was well demonstrated by reason of the fact that some very useful pioneering work was done on five metres, and for such work one can only comment that the location was well-nigh disheartening.

Early Ultra Shortwave Experiments. At this period, a few of the older hands were turning to five metres for other fields to explore, and among these with the writer were VK2SA (Sgt. Salmon of the N.S.W. police radio service) and Syd. Maguire (VK2XY). These two stations were situated over two ranges of hills in a northerly direction, about three miles distant. With what may now be considered as the most elementary of ultra-shortwave transmitters and receivers, very little trouble was encountered in obtaining good two-way and duplex telephony working.

The transmitters were unstable modulated oscillators, receivers were battery-operated super-regenerators, and the aerials of various kinds, but all plain radiators and not directional. The Pickard type of aerial was favoured at this time, and this is fundamentally about equal to the usual twisted pair doublet.

It was known that over on the other side of Sydney the Lakemba Club had a few members keen on five metres, and engaged in experiments, but Lakemba was then looked upon as excessive DX, and somewhat unlikely as a communication goal from the Eastern suburbs. Nothing was ever heard of the stations over there from the writer's location, but VK2SA, who was more favourably placed, once thought he heard a weak station. In view of subsequent work and achievements in recent years, we can now look pityingly on our former modest hopes!

Back To Radio Journalism. In 1933, the writer returned to the sphere of radio journalism by an appointment as Technical Editor of "Australian Radio News," then published by "The Bulletin," and during the period until this weekly was absorbed in "The Bulletin," a considerable amount of 5-metre investigational work was done. The foundations were laid for an influx of enthusiasm for this previously-scorned communication channel, and more Sydney amateurs were attracted to its possibilities as a very useful cross-city medium.

Following on the initial tests at the home location, with its serious handicaps, possible high elevations were sought with the object of determining just how far signals could travel with the apparatus available. A portable station was made up on a camera tripod. The transmitter had two 71A's in unity-push-pull with two similar valves as modulators in parallel, while the receiver was a separately interrupted super-regenerator with 2-volt battery valves and a magnetic speaker.

This station was taken to the tower on top of "The Bulletin" offices in George Street, Sydney, where a Pickard type aerial was rigged on a wooden support. At once the advantages of an unscreened location became apparent. It was possible to work with the 5-metre gang in all directions around Sydney, as far afield as Mascot aerodrome.

Special duplex tests were run between this station and a police outfit operated by VK2SA from police H.Q. in Philip Street, and a new and interesting era began to dawn in experimental 5-metre radio in N.S.W. Tests were also run about this time in conjunction with Syd. Colville at Mascot aerodrome, and considerable success was had in working over distances up to 20 miles between ground station and 'plane.

Much interest was aroused by the demonstration of 5-metre duplex communication between the "Australian Radio News" and Ever Ready Battery Co.'s stands at the 1934 Radio and Electrical Exhibition in Sydney Town Hall. All this time, transmitters and receivers had been crude, and aerials an inefficient means to an end.

DX With Directional Aerials. With the coming of the directional aerial era on 5 metres in Sydney, this once short-range band began to take on a different aspect. Up in the Blue Mountains, at Hazelbrook, N.S.W., was located a keen experimenter in E. B. Ferguson (VK2BP). Ferguson had dabbled with 5-metre apparatus in the hope of hearing something of the Sydney stations, but after meeting repeatedly with a wall of silence, had more or less given up the quest in disgust.

Late in 1934, a new type of 5-metre aerial was erected at the writer's station (where the previous location had been changed for a more elevated position), this being of the four radiator-four reflector type with the radiators fed in phase, and giving beaming in one direction. It was a bulky affair on a wooden framework, and was perforce so slung between two poles that it gave direction due west.

The transmitter was a T.N.T. oscillator using 45's, modulated in Class B by a 53, driven by a 56. Two keen co-operating experimenters at this time were Harry Chinner (VK2CG) and Will Dukes (VK2WD). It was arranged to run a distance test on this aerial, and on 2 February 35 these two left Sydney by car, carrying a small super-regen. receiver, to make observations on a constant modulated tone signal from VK2NO.

They couldn't lose the signal anywhere along the Mountains Road route, and at Hazelbrook, outside VK2BP's shack, the signal was at maximum. Ferguson was away from home, but a note was left notifying him of the test and the result. To cut a long story short, in a few days' time VK2BP was on the air with a similar beam array, and perfect two-way telephony was established on 5 metres between Sydney and the Blue Mountains.

Active stations using beam arrays following this period were VK's 2BP, 2NO, 2CG, 2WD, 2MW and 2OD. It was attempted to get through to Newcastle, 70 miles airline distance, but that objective was not to be attained until much later, in mid-1937.

Severe QRM Hampers Progress. Several more stations began to be attracted to 5 metres, and the band actually took on a severe QRM aspect. It began to be realised that "squegger" receivers were worse than atrocious in causing severe interference for miles around, and the heavily-modulated self-excited transmitters were guilty of greediness!

Several transmitters were modified by the use of stable grid and plate circuits using the "long lines" principle, and the cleaner signal was at once apparent. Super-regenerative receivers also came in for attention, and separate interrupter valves and an r.f. stage were incorporated in many instances.

It was possible to fit more stations into the band without overlap, but things were by no means perfect. Several misguided people made up simple one-valve transceivers. One of these on the air, with its "squegging" detection and propensity for hopping about all over the band, was sufficient to wreck communication between several stations. It is safe to assume that the "transceiver" as popularised in U.S.A. by several publications did more to hold back progress on five metres than anything. One can imagine the terrific QRM these contraptions must cause in populated districts in the States.

Mobile Tests On "Five." In 1935, a mobile 5-metre test period predominated around Sydney, and several amateurs co-operated in tests far afield. Those test days were full of the most intense interest for those out with the car stations and those at the home locations, and it is a great pity that at the time of writing, this phase of 5-metre activity has suffered from neglect.

The car station for VK2NU (VK2NO's portable) used a unity push-pull oscillator with two 89's, plate-modulated by a 42. The aerial was a half-wave twisted pair doublet projecting vertically from the front bumper. Power was taken from the car 6-volt accumulator via a 300-volt. Carter genemotor, and the receiver had a 955 "acorn" self-interruptor detector and 38 audio.

Many interesting results were obtained with this mobile station, one of which was the fact that a really good place for 5-metre transmission and reception around Sydney is in the centre of the Harbour Bridge. In view of the great mass of steel, this seems hardly likely, but it is so. On one occasion this car station communicated with a similar outfit in a car on Kurrajong Heights, when located near the top of Bulli Pass. These stations were used for lengthy periods when on the move at high speed as well as when "on location."

One important result arising from all this mobile 5-metre work is the establishment of the fact that an undoubtedly ideal location for an ultra-shortwave television station to serve the whole of Sydney and even farther afield is somewhere in the Blue Mountains. With only a 5-watt 5-metre oscillator, it is easy to put a strong signal over Sydney on 5-metres provided that a beam aerial, even in quite simple form, is used at least at one end. A 10 k.w. station working around 6 or 7 metres for television purposes would assuredly cover a wide area with a strong service signal, even from as far afield as Mt. Victoria.

Television for Australian "viewers," however, seems to be a long way distant, for justifiable financial reasons, but no doubt that time will come in the end, and when it does, accumulated ultra-shortwave experience will be of value. My advice to the experimenter with other ideas than DX contests is to get in on the ground floor of ultra-shortwave radio, for it will become increasingly important in the wide future of radio communication generally.

Photo of 2NO and 2XO at Bellingen 1930s

A question of aerial feeder design? The author (left) being shown round by 2XO at Bellingen, N.S.W., a few years ago.

1938 01

Twenty-Five Years In Amateur Radio . . . (9)

In this concluding instalment, the author discusses the relative merits of 5-metre aerial systems. He also gives details of further experiences in u.h.f. work, leading up to his establishment of a world DX record by putting 5-metre telephony signals into North Wales. By DON. B. KNOCK, Radio Editor, "The Bulletin."

BY the end of 1936, much progress had been made at VK2NO, with all kinds of directional aerial systems for 5-metre working, and at times some fearsome looking affairs sprouted around the shack, to the mystification of neighbouring residents.

From the original eight-wire beam with its "one-way traffic" limitations, arrays had passed through the stages of the twin radiator with reflector; twin dipole (end-fire) and Reinartz rotary, to the Bruce system.

There is little to choose between any of these types for local working (up to 100 miles) with the exception of the Bruce array. This system has already been described in "A.R.W." It has the highest gain of any in its simplest form of four half-waves in phase, and is bi-directional normally into the bargain. It is likely, however, to be a bit of a nuisance in windy weather unless one has adopted a very strong structural arrangement (which most hams don't do).

This system must be capable of 180-degree rotation with an accessible control, as the horizontal beam angle is around 15 degrees at 5 metres. Either side of that the signal falls off rapidly, both on transmission and reception. It is the best of the u.-s.-w. systems, in the writer's opinion, for those who want the best results.

The twin-dipole is very good. This is also for 180-degree rotation, but has a 45-degree angle and is end-fire. It is easily erected and rotated.

The simplest of all is the Reinartz rotary, being only 30 inches in diameter, but with a 45-degree angle in one direction. It must consequently be capable of 360 degrees rotation.

The system in use at the time of writing is a vertical W8JK "Flat-Top" beam. This has two full-waves out of phase with one-eighth wave spacing; is end-fire with about a 20-degree angle, and is a very convenient type for 180-degree rotation. This aerial is at present being tried out for possible overseas DX on 5 metres.

Atlantic Crossed On "Five" In 1926. The question of 5-metre DX has always been an interesting one to the writer, possibly because it is a tough nut to crack. The history of 5-metre communications shows that as far back as 1926, signals were sent across the Atlantic to Italy on 5 metres. There was never any two-way working in all instances of reported DX, and up to the present time such is still the case.

Late in 1936, the writer tackled the problem of advanced apparatus seriously, and a transmitter was designed using a 6L6 e.c. oscillator doubling from 10 to 5, driving a capacity-coupled RK25. This exciter unit was used to drive two Eimac 35T's in push-pull. The final stage would take a comfortable 150 watts input. Receivers were also tackled, and an eight-valve superhet with 5,000 k.c. i.f. channel was evolved.

The transmitter was tested out on various beam arrays, and for a considerable period the twin-dipole with 600-ohm line feed was employed, with a Reinartz rotary fed by twisted pair as a stand-by.

In the test days organised by W.I.A. (N.S.W. division) considerable success was obtained. The first surprise came when VK2DN, of Deniliquin, 360 miles distant, logged the i.c.w. test signals from VK2NO on schedule for a brief period, and this was followed by two-way contact during day and night with VK2ZC at Newcastle, 70 miles distant.

The biggest surprise of all came this year, when an ultra-shortwave observer in Pwllheli, North Wales, claimed to have heard telephony on 5 metres from VK2NO. Conjecture was rife, and doubts were freely expressed, but the hard facts turned up in the form of the log extracts of the signal, mailed from North Wales.

The interesting part of it is that VK2NO was at the time using the Reinartz rotary in communication with another Sydney station, and, furthermore, the signal had been heard but not identified on several occasions around that period by the North Welshman. This confirmation constitutes the world's record for transmission and reception on 5 metres, and now it is a matter of sticking at the job with earnest co-operation until two-way working is effected.

Regular Schedules With ON4AU. At the present time, schedules are being kept regularly with the well-known Belgian, ON4AU. He is using first-class equipment for c.w. transmission and reception on 56,080 k.c. ON4AU has 250 watts output with a beam array directed over the Great Circle route, and special W.E. u.-h.-f. valves are employed in the final transmitter stage. His receiver is a t.r.f. type using acorn valves.

In order to be fully up to the mark, the station at VK2NO has been re-modelled, and the transmitter now includes an extra buffer stage with two 801's in push-pull before the 35T's. The final has been re-designed for higher efficiency.

The most interesting part of the equipment is the new receiver for the combined job of straight c.w. and super-regenerative reception. Considerable work has been done with possible c.w. receivers previously, using standard valves, but the results had always been disappointing. Recently this new receiver was completed, and it uses a 956 acorn t.r.f. amplifier, 954 electron-coupled detector, EBC3 as interrupter when "supering" is wanted, and 41 audio.

A heterodyne oscillator has been incorporated, putting an old idea to modern use. This oscillator is at 20 metres, and the fourth harmonic is used to beat with the 954 detector, which can then be used in a non-oscillating but sensitive condition.

The method of operation is very simple. A c.w. signal is first tuned in with the detector oscillating (harmonics from c.c. stations on other bands are very useful for this), and then the beat oscillator is switched in and the detector regeneration backed of slightly. The result is a remarkably stable signal, with no loss of signal strength. The receiver handles on c.w. just as easily as if one were using it on 20 metres.

In use it has proved to be a revelation, and far superior to any receiver yet tried. Some idea of the efficiency can be gained when it is stated that c.w. harmonics of stations as far as 20 miles away can be heard at R7 on 5 metres when working on 20 and 10 metres. These results, however, appear to be obtainable only with valves such as the 956 and 954.

"Acorns" Well Worth While. "Acorns" are admittedly expensive, but despite their relatively high price, it is money well spent where it is a case of determination to get the best ultra-short-wave results. To spend money on the transmitter side and treat the receiver as an afterthought is less than half doing the job.

Apart from the primary interest to-day of ultra-short-wave experimentation, the writer does not completely neglect the ordinary routine of amateur communication, and may occasionally be found on 20-metre c.w. and 'phone, mostly in the early mornings, and very rarely on 40 metres.

In July this year, a considerable amount of 40-metre communication was obtained with the Mackay Aerial Survey Expedition in Central Australia, and this, being something different to the usual kind of communication normally to be had on 40 in these times, was an interesting interlude.

In conclusion, the writer would say that, despite the utility of modern radio-telephone communication, the telegraphy side is still as important as ever it was, and urges the amateur in general to strive to keep his hand in on the key. The reasons for such advice would take too much space, but they are numerous and indisputable.

Radio "Grandest Of Hobbies." After 25 years of experience in different forms with this yet infant science of radio communication, the writer considers that it is the grandest of hobbies for old and young, that if only the world at large could be made to realise it, amateur radio is a powerful weapon for world peace by intimate contact between fellow men; and that, progressive as radio is, it still has a long way to go. There is no end to its possibilities. (Conclusion).

Photo of 2NO 5 metre transmitter

The five-metre transmitter used by VK2NO. It put telephony signals into North Wales, and telegraphy across the Tasman to New Zealand, It has four stages, consisting of a 6L6 electron-coupled oscillator from 10 to 5 metres, capacity-coupled to an RK25. This exciter is linked to a buffer stage with two 801's in push-pull, and this in turn is linked to the final, using two Eimac 35T's in push-pull, with 150 watts input.

Obituary

OBITUARY - DONALD BRADER KNOCK (Ex VK2NO). As we go to press we learn with much regret that Donald Brader Knock (Ex VK2NO) had passed away in hospital on 31 October, following a lengthy illness. Undoubtedly it would be true to say that both the name Don Knock and the call sign VK2NO became one of the best known combinations among Amateurs in this country, particularly among those whose association with Amateur Radio goes back prior to World War II. Born in Southport, Lancashire, 68 years ago, Don saw service in World War I. Being an adventuresome type, he joined the 1919 expedition to Russia in what proved to be an abortive attempt to overthrow the Bolsheviks who had taken over the country following the Russian Rebellion. Having served with the Engineers, with emphasis on radio communication, Don took out a G call on his return to England in the early 1920s. Arriving in Australia around 1925, he undertook the organisation of radio communication for the Vestey Meat Company at Wyndham, Western Australia, and his efforts there resulted in considerable progress being made in opening up the North-West. Another of Don's interests was radio journalism and he continued a rather chequered career by publishing a monthly magazine, "Radio News," and also became Radio Editor of the Sydney Bulletin. A post-war attempt to re-enter the radio magazine field was, however, short lived. Still later, he was employed by Philips Electrical Industries and in a civilian capacity with the Department of the Navy. About 10 years prior to his death, Don surprised his friends by disposing of his gear and relinquishing his call sign. However, he continued to take an interest in Amateur doings, in spite of a deterioration in his health. Perhaps we could say that one of Don Knock's greatest contributions to Amateur Radio was in v.h.f., for during the 1930s, he and other kindred souls carried out much pioneering work on 56 Mc. An early edition of the A.R.R.L. Antenna Handbook carries a description and photograph of a 56 Mc. beam antenna developed by him. The N.S.W. Division of the W.I.A. was well represented at the funeral on Thursday, 3rd Nov., which took place at Eastern Suburbs Crematorium following a service at St. Mary's Church of England, Waverley. To Mrs. Knock and son, Rodney, may we offer sincere sympathy on behalf of all members of the Wireless Institute of Australia.

1920s

1926

1926 02

And yet oddly, the callsign is later allocated to the PMGD itself

THE AMATEURS. . . . The Radio Inspector (Mr. G. A. Scott) has received a Q.S.L card from an amateur located in the Channel Islands and addressed to Radio A6NO, West Australia. There is no official record of such a call sign being allotted to WA, and any local transmitter whose call sign closely approximates this, should scan his log and see if he was transmitting CQ's on 45 metres at 2 a.m. local time on January 8, 1926. Signal strength was reported at R4 by the English amateur.

1926 04

2NO passes through WA on his way to Sydney

G6XB (sic, G6XG) (Mr. Donald B. Knock) passed through Fremantle on Friday last bound for Sydney, where he intends to reside. As Mr. Knock is an energetic member of the American Radio Relay League, and the Radio Society of Great Britain, he will be very welcome among the 2's.

1927

1927 10

2NO reports on first communication with Flynn and Traeger using transmitter powered by hand generator

PIONEER WORK IN AUSTRALIA. Valuable pioneer work in broadcasting between residents in the sparsely populated areas of Australia is being done by Rev. John Flynn, superintendent of the Australian Inland Mission. Mr. Flynn is at present in the district between Longreach and Cloncurry, in Northern Queensland, and has with him Mr. Traeger, a wireless experimenter, who is testing out a cheaply-constructed transmitting apparatus, which is intended for installation in central areas of northern and central Australia for communication between homesteads within a radius of 250 to 300 miles. Rev J. Andrew Barber, patrol organiser of the Inland Mission, said yesterday that a message had been received by Mr. D. B. Knock, Vaucluse, from Mr. Flynn, from Longreach, which stated that the baby transmitter, with hand generator, was working so successfully on about 30 metres, that it seemed as if the search for suitable gear for bushmen with little means had at last ended happily. Mr. Knock stated that he was operating on 32.5 metres, using 45 watts input. He received Mr. Flynn's message on a two-valve set. Two-way communication was maintained with Mr. Flynn for a considerable time. It is hoped that two-way communication may be maintained from henceforth with Mr. Flynn during his extended tour of the Northern Territory and Central Australia

1927 11

2NO is appointed to the committee of the NSW RTL (later ARTL NSW) at its formation meeting

The N.S.W. Radio Transmitters' League. THE formation meeting of the New South Wales Radio Transmitters' League was held at 8.30 p.m. on Thursday, October 27th, at Y.M.C.A. Buildings, Pitt Street, Sydney. Over 50 amateur radio experimenters were in attendance. Mr. Morton (2MH) took the chair, and, after formally opening the meeting gave a short speech, and read a letter from the president of the Queensland Radio Transmitters' League, wishing this league every success. Officers elected were:— Mr. Caletti (2CL), president; Mr. Young (2JY), secretary; Mr. Grey (2IJ), treasurer. Committeemen: Mr. Lindsay (2DY), Mr. Hardy (2RD), Mr. Knock (2NO), Mr. Nolan (2YI), and Mr. Sigal (2UK). THE OBJECTS OF THE LEAGUE. (a) To organise and co-ordinate the work of all N.S.W. transmitting amateurs, (b) To establish and maintain a reliable chain of amateur radio stations throughout the State, which may be of national service in an emergency, (c) To provide a centre for the dissemination of information, data, instruction, and advice; to promote personal contact, unity, and goodwill among amateurs; to encourage mutual aid by lectures, discussions, debates, and interchange of ideas and practical experience between amateurs; to maintain a high standing of operating efficiency, with use of correct procedure; and generally to improve the knowledge and further the interests of transmitting amateurs, (d) To affiliate with other societies having similar objects, and to co-operate, as occasion may require, with recognised international amateur radio organisations. Amateur radio transmitters who have joined the league are:— 2AV, 2BW, 2CL, 2CS, 2CU 2CG, 2DY, 2EC, 2FM, 2GW, 2HH, 2HC, 2IJ, 2JA, 2JD, 2JC, 2JR, 2JT, 2JY, 2KW, 2LH, 2MH, 2MS, 2MW, 2NO, 2QT, 2RE, 2RO, 2RW, 2RX, 2RZ, 2RD, 2RC, 2SM, 2UK, 2WG, 2WK, 2WH, 2XI, 2YJ, 2YB, 2YI, 2ZX, 2ZU, 2ZY. Meetings will be held at the Y.M.C.A Buildings (Boys' Committee Rooms), Pitt Street, Sydney, on the first Saturday in each month, at 8 p.m. All amateur radio transmitters and shortwave listeners are welcome.

2NO submits a log of recent activities to the Sydney Daily Telegraph creatively named "Radio Section"

Notes From An Experimenter's Log. Experimenters and other amateurs are invited to send in reports of interesting events in the course of their radio work. Mr. D. B. Knock, of 2NO, has supplied the following notes. I HAVE pleasure in submitting details of recent experimental work from my short wave station, 2NO. On October 25, at 5 p.m. I was fortunate enough to open communication with 8AC portable station of the Australian Inland Mission, at Longreach. 8AC is a low-power crystal controlled outfit operated for the Rev. John Flynn, by Mr. Traegar, of 5AX, of Adelaide. They had just got the station in operation, and their communication with me was their first contact with the coast by amateur radio. I took the following message:— "Grateful. You ring A.I.M. Secretary, B1835, and report successful reception messages from Longreach on baby set with hand generator, 30 metres, indicating that our search for suitable gear for bushman without means is at last ended happily. "Our united regards to all A.I.M., family, and yourself. (Signed) Flynn and Traegar. STATION 8AC was very strong though bad static, and local interference. I had to ask for repeats once, owing to interference, and could imagine poor Traegar working overtime in the heat on that hand generator. At 2NO I was operating on 32.5 metres, but expect to open up with 8AC in daytime on 23 metres. Impact here is 45 metres to two 7½ watt tubes in parallel. With this little transmitter and a Zeffelin sic, Zepplin type antenna I am in regular touch with most continents of the world. AT this time of the year the 20-metre wavelength is considered by many experimenters to be "dead." Here is a resume of work on 23 metres from 2NO during the last few days:— For the last two weeks I have been in communication with H.M.A.S. Adelaide, in the Solomon Islands. It is a condescention for the Navy to co-operate with amateur stations, and the operator on the Adelaide told me I was their last link with Australia. That is not a tribute particularly to 2NO, but to the 20-metre band. The Adelaide reports signals as R5 to R7. A separate Hertzian type anntena is used here at 2NO for this waveband and is an effective height only of 10 feet from the ground. Other stations forked with during the last few days are:— AI-2KT, in India. AF-1B, in Saigon, Indo-China. Australian, 6SA, Perth. Australian, 7CW, Hobart. Australian, 5DX, Adelaide. Many other stations have been heard, including: English, 2OW, 5LF, 6VP; French, 8FD, 8JN; and Russian, RA13, at Vladivostok. I ADMIT that long distance conditions on the 20-metre band are not so good at this time of the year, as from January to August, but this recent work disproved that the 20-metre band is not worth while. It is a waveband which is wonderfully free from static, but suffers from interference from automobile ignition systems. As automobiles pass the house they become a veritable broadcast station for 100 yards while passing, also any little noise in the house resembles a boiler factory. For instance, if whilst I am listening to a 20-metre signal, anyone moves a plate, or a knife on the metal top sink in the kitchen, the wavelength of my receiver changes and I have to retune the signal. That is an illustration of the absorbing effect of nearby objects at these higher frequencies. One can imagine the effect at five metres.

2NO reports to first meeting of ARTL NSW on first report of trans-Pacific reception on 5 metres

RADIO TRANSMITTERS' LEAGUE. First Meeting. THE first meeting of the New South Wales Radio Transmitters' League was held in the Y.M.C.A. Building, Pitt Street, Sydney, on Saturday, November 5. Mr. G. Caletti took the chair. There were amateur experimenters present. Mr. Grey gave a short talk on the results of 5-metre tests, as carried out by him during last weekend. Morse signals on 5 metres were transmitted, from Mr. Grey's station at Killara, and were received at Bowral in daylight at signal strength R7. Mr. D. B. Knock informed the meeting that he had received a message from a Queensland amateur, who stated that 5-metre signals from the U.S.A. station 4QT had been received in Queensland at signal strength R3. A request was made by one of the members, that all amateurs present should endeavour to listen and transmit on 20 metres, as interference on that band is practically nil. The next meeting of the league will take place on Saturday, December 3. The committee will endeavour to secure a lecturer for that night. All amateur experimenters are invited to attend.

1928

1928 01

2NO defends the proposed trans-Tasman flight by Moody and Jolley

THE PROPOSED N.Z. FLIGHT. TO THE EDITOR OF THE HERALD. Sir,— Following on various controversial Press news regarding the proposed New Zealand flight, perhaps if a little enlightenment from the more important aspect of radio is given, the Federal authorities and other interested bodies will be inclined to view the matter in a more conciliatory attitude. As an ex-R.A.F. flying man of three years' war service, and a radio engineer and operator, I am able to shed a little light on Captain Moody's project. With all due respect to the tragic attempt of Lieut. Moncrieff and Captain Hood, it will be evident that Captain Moody and Mr. Jolley are working on a basis of 100 per cent. efficiency and safety. The objection of Mr. Bruce and Colonel Brinsmead to the utilisation of a machine without floats or other means of landing on the water does not really bear justification. Not only would floats or a hull seriously hamper flying speed, but it is extremely doubtful if safety would be added to in the case of a forced landing on a choppy or rough open sea surface! Rather would the machine be inclined to spin over on her back, by the mere fact of attempting a normal water landing at speed. In such a case, the radio apparatus would be immediately out of action whereas in the ease of a land machine making a "pancake" landing on the water, the apparatus would be in use for a while, as she would gradually settle down. As an instance of the degree of safety adopted by Captain Moody, my services as operator for the trip were offered and accepted, until my weight was found to be 11st 5lb. Captain Moody had so well worked out his flying weight that anything over 10st would mean the sacrificing of four to six gallons of petrol. A competent operator of suitable weight was found in Mr. S. V. Colville. The radio apparatus to be used in the machine will be capable of communication reliably over a distance of at least 3000 miles. Direction finding equipment will be installed; the silent and unfailing ear in navigation as all modern sea-forces will agree! Every few minutes the machine's position, with comments on the flight, will be transmitted, and those signals will be received by any commercial or amateur station in Australia and New Zealand. The broadcasting stations would be able to report to the public in less than three minutes the actual progress of the flight, and when the operator on the machine is taking his bearings he will be able to hear his own news coming back to him through Wellington and Auckland ahead, and Sydney and Melbourne behind! In the transmission equipment, no trailing aerial will be used. The aerial will be placed in the dead vacuum space in the stream line of the wing span. To place official obstruction against a carefully planned pioneer flight such as this is unmerited. The feeling in competent radio circles is, that had the previous flight been supplied with suitable apparatus and a competent operator, the lives of two brave men would have been saved. In conclusion, it will be well to add that Captain Moody will not leave these shores in any case without a reliable endurance test of his engine and machine. I am, etc., D. B. KNOCK, Radio 2NO, Assistant Sec., N.S.W. Radio Transmitters League. Jan. 24.

1928 03

2NO as technical editor for Wireless Weekly & Radio in ANZ reflects on rapid advances in radio technology over the last few years

Technical Editors Reflections. THERE is no doubt about Progress! The world continues on its orbit through the vast universe, bearing on its continents its countless populations. Those populations may be apathetic to evolution in many cases, but in the great majority is a craving for a better scientific knowledge. It is impossible to retard Progress; and the Radio and Electrical Exhibition, at the Sydney Town Hall, is evidence of man’s progressiveness, and, what is particularly pleasing, evidence of the advancement of Australia in Radio and Electrical Science. What a contrast to the exhibition of two years ago! Many receiving instruments exhibited in 1926 were considered the last word; but to-day, they would not be tolerated. The Australian Radio manufacturer has risen to the occasion, by providing for his public, at a price available to all, instruments which are simple in operation, extremely efficient, and, in addition, a beautiful piece of household furniture! In fact, I quite believe that many housewives will probably turn down one instrument for another because the colour or design of the cabinet does not match the new Axminster carpet! As in the motor car trade, so with Radio. Productions are so excellent that the fair sex is the deciding factor in many cases! It is irrepressible for me to compare this exhibition with others of bygone days, including the majesty of Wembley in 1924. There is something strongly reminiscent of Wembley in the instructive and educative display by the Public Authorities in the lower hall. Shades of the Palace of Engineering! Here one may see and examine the intricacies of the train or tram one rides to business in; complicated railway signalling systems; the operation of the photo-electrical cell; all made possible by the utilisation of the same latent force which has made Radio communication possible, namely the Electron. Radio and Electrical Engineering are like the Siamese Twins; "One is not possible without the other." Exhibitions are truly expressive of mankind's scientific development. During 1924, I well remember Australian visitors to Wembley paying extortionate prices for broadcast receivers which today, in Australia, are valueless. In 1928, they may buy in their own country receivers for a quarter of the price which are at least 200 per cent. more efficient in every way. They are to be seen on every hand in the 1928 Exhibition, in the Sydney Town Hall. Component parts for the home constructor gladden his heart with their engineering skill, and he does not need to dive very far into his pocket to obtain the essential for that super set he has been contemplating. The evolution of the heart of the radio receiver, the valve, is displayed in all its glory on various stands, and it is truly wonderful to compare the modern valve, with its constancy and stability, with its brothers of but a few years ago. Radio has come to stay; and this exhibition will be followed by others in the future, and, wonderful as it is now, one can visualise the rapid advent of Television, when visitors to the exhibition will, in all probability, be able to see actual happenings in far-off countries taking place before their eyes. D. B. KNOCK.

Advertisement in Wireless Weekly for Radio in ANZ features construction article by 2NO on "THE 1928 BROWNING-DRAKE"

SPECIAL EXHIBITION "RADIO." Don’t miss the Special Exhibition Number of "RADIO." The best issue yet published. Strong in technical matter, rich in interest, and light with humour. Printed in two colours and profusely illustrated. The features include: RAY ALLSOP'S SHORT-WAVE SUPERHETERODYNE. How to make a super-heterodyne which will tune in any short-wave broadcasting station in the world at good loud-speaker strength. A description by the Chief Engineer of 2BL (Ray Allsop, 2YG), of the remarkable shortwave receiver used to pick up and relay the British and foreign stations heard from 2BL. You must see this circuit — it's the best and latest. THE 1928 BROWNING-DRAKE. A newly-developed and more efficient Browning-Drake of two valves — a regenerative detector and one stage of R.F. as a complete unit with a single control panel arrangement. Separate amplifier units employing either transformer or resistance coupling will be described. By Don B. Knock (2NO). ADVENTURE YARN BY "BRASSO." Something new. Hi-Jackers and rum-running in the Atlantic. An Aussie brasspounder, a Yank, and the short waves. Best thing yet written by Brasso. SHORT STORIES HUMOUR ARTICLES. Alarm! A short story about a broadcasting studio — a woman’s intuition—warning — and bush fires. Also, "The Echo of Eden News Service," and "How Noah Got His Weather Reports During the Flood." Humorous drawings by Jack Waring, Mark White, and others. A. S. Cochrane (Hello Man 2FC) on the Bedtime Story. The ideal wavelength for International Broadcasting. Watch for Special Cover on Bookstalls. On Sale March 19th.

1928 06

2NO advertises for a substantial wireless pole for the Wireless Weekly building

CONTRACTOR wanted, to erect 60 foot Wireless Pole. Wood supplied. D. B. KNOCK, Wireless Weekly, 51 Castlereagh-street, Sydney.

1928 07

2NO logged by "The DX Hound" in Warwick

RADIO NOTES. (By "The DX Hound.")BELOW THE BELT. 2XT, 16.02 metres, Rock, N.Y.; 2XAD, 22.02 metres, Schnectady, N.Y.; PCJJ, 31.4 metres, Hilversum, Holland; 6WF, 104.5, Perth, Australia; 3LO, 32 metres, Melbourne, Australia; RFM, 60 metres, Siberia; RFN, 29 metres, Mos-ow; WGY, 32 metres, Schnectady, N. Y.; 5SW, 24 metres, Chelmsford, England; 2NM, 32.5, 28 metres, Chaterham, England. POX, 70 metres, Nauen, Germany. Most of the above stations can be heard nightly and others from 7a.m. onwards. Some of the stations heard over the week-end include:-— 2GW, 2FP, 7HL, 3HM, 2CJ, 3DX, 2HM, 2KL, 2LG, JOAK (short wave), 2AW, 2NO, 3WS.

1928 11

2NO sends a message to "Spirit of Australia" via a Karachi amateur

RADIO TO KARACHI. FOR CAPT. HURLEY SENT FROM RANDWICK. Mr. D. B. Knock, technical editor of "Radio," who operates an experimental shortwave station at Randwick under the callsign 2NO, was in communication last night with station 2KW, Karachi, India, when a message was sent to Capt. Hurley, who is in charge of the Spirit of Australia's radio VMZAC. This conveyed greetings from Australian experimenters, who have been engaged on the compilation of a log of transmissions from the aeroplane, which is working on a wavelength of 34 metres. Since leaving Wyndham no signals from VMZAC have been reported as being heard in Australia.

2NO comments on possible reasons why the "Spirit of Australia" had not been heard so far on its flight

Experimenters expect that they will be able to hear VMZAC, the radio station on the Spirit of Australia now flying towards London, in the early mornings of the next week or two. Many people have been disappointed over the fact that Captain Hurley's messages have not been received during the course of the flight up to date. It has been suggested that some defect has occurred in the transmitting gear which has prevented Captain Hurley from communicating with experimental stations in this manner, as arranged by him. The fact, however, that he himself has not mentioned this in his cable messages seems to suggest that Captain Hurley is still operating VMZAC. Our failure to receive his messages is due most probably to the fact that they are transmitted during daylight hours in tropical and sub-tropical countries, and under many difficulties, unlike the flight of the Southern Cross, which took place during night hours, and was therefore far more easily heard than it would have been had the transmissions taken place during daylight hours. Captain Hurley cannot transmit after his 'plane lands for the night on account of his aerial system being designed for flight transmission only. As Captain Hurley approaches London, the time of his flights, although daylight hours in that portion of the globe will coincide with the very early morning hours in Australia. This will mean that conditions will be far more favourable for the reception of messages than they have been up to date. VMZAC is probably the most compact, and advanced portable transmitter which has left Australia. The whole thing does not take up more than two square feet of space, excluding the winding spool for the aerial and the generator. It is an exact copy of the transmitter used by Byrd in his North Pole Flight, and very like those which will be used by him in his coming South Pole flight. It was designed at the Burgess Battery Company's famous experimental laboratories, and assembled in Sydney by New System Telephones Ltd. The circuit used is a Heintz modification of the TPTG circuit and is the result of years of experimenting with the installation of radio on airplanes. Before leaving, Captain Hurley told the writer that one of the main objects of the flight was to show the importance of radio installations in aircraft and in addition to his other attempts to create a record for continuous and reliable communication by radio from an airplane in the course of a long distance flight. Through the Technical Editor of Wireless Weekly (Mr. Don. B. Knock, operator of experimental station 2NO) Captain Hurley had arranged for the co-operation of all the amateur stations in Australia and America and those countries on his route for reports of his reception. Unfortunately, circumstances have apparently prevented him from carrying out his intention.

1928 12

Ad for Wireless Weekly features "Uni-International" Receiver designed by 2NO

Every Radio Fan should have his copy of Wireless Weekly 3d. A radio fan without a copy of "Wire-less Weekly" is like a ship's captain with-out a sextant. A radio receiver without a copy of "Wireless Weekly" nearby is like a ship without a compass. Both need a sense of direction, both need the means of obtaining their bearings. "Wire-less Weekly" provides the radio fan with his information, his technical data, his circuits, and diagrams. It provides the adjacent radio set with call signs, wave lengths, and programmes. FIRST TELEVISION Experiments in Australia. THE current issue of "Wireless Weekly," dated December 28, contains the first details of actual television experiments made in Australia. Mr. W. G. Nicholls explains the remarkable phenomena observed when converting the waves of 2BL into light waves. Amazingly beautiful designs are seen in the television aperture. The principle of television is out-lined by Mr. Nicholls, who in an early issue will give details for the construction of a television receiver. Among other features are the Uni-International short-wave receiver, designed by Mr. Don B. Knock. This receiver is the greatest of all those designed for the broadcast listener. Mr. Ray Allsop gives specification for an all-wave Wasp receiver he has built. A prize is offered for the successful entry in a novel silhouette competition. A number of amusing and informative interviews, letters to the editor, cartoons, short-wave notes, are included — not forgetting the Radio Information Service, and the complete week's programmes in advance. TEAR OUT AND FORWARD THIS SUBSCRIPTION FORM To the Editor, "Wireless Weekly," 51 Castlereagh Street, Sydney. Please forward "Wireless Weekly" for a period of . . . . . . for which I enclose . . . . . . . NAME . . . . . . . ADDRESS . . . . . . Subscription Rates: 12 months (52 issues), 13/- post free; 6 months (26 issues), 6/6 post free. (Add exchange to Country Cheques.) Wireless Weekly 3d. On Sale Every Wednesday