RADIO'S BIG MOMENT

New Zealand Listener, Volume 11, Issue 261, 23 June 1944, Page 22

RADIO'S BIG MOMENT

Behind The Scenes on D-Day

N a corner of the main controlroom at Station 2YA there is a revolving chair placed between a writing table and a set of recording machines, and here, for 24 hours a day since September, 1939, a continuous watch has been kept on news broadcasts from the BBC and elsewhere and more than 30,000 records have been cut. Three men have been the main sharers of this -task throughout the war, and recently "the listening watch" had its big moment, a moment which had been the subject of speculation and wager in the control room for some weeks. Listeners who had their radios on from 6.15 p.m. onwards on Tuesday, June 6, hardly need to be reminded of what they heard on that historic occasion, but they may find it interesting to be told how the NBS arranged it all. The "listening watch" was established some months before the war, and all its work is entered in a set of large page-a-day diaries by which it is possible to refer to the actual disc cut at a certain time on any day, and hear the news exactly as it was heard then, interference, fading, and all.

The man on duty has his movements restricted to a great extent by the necessity for wearing earphones all the time -as he is in the control-room where many of 2YA’s announcements are made, a loudspeaker would be out of the ques-tion-and it is his job to know when news is about to be heard on shortwave, whether from the BBC or anywhere else we are likely to be interested in, including Vatican radio and even Tokyo itself. Then at the appropriate moment he tips over a small lever, and a heavy "recording head," resembling a highly elaborate gramophone pickup, descends on a smooth black disc, spinning ready on a heavy turntable. A very fine continuous thread of "shavings" tangles round the cutting instrument, and begins to pile up on a circular brush in the centre of the record. When there is enough of it you can see that it is a sort of luminous purple colour. It is highly inflammable. After several minutes the grooves will be getting near the inside margin, and at an appropriate break in the news (or whatever is being recorded) the operator lifts the cutter and simultaneously begins the same cutting operation on another identical machine alongside, where another blank disc is already spinning at the right speed — usually 334 revolutions per minute. Before this is fully cut the other machine will, if necessary, be ready to take over the broadcast without a break. Back to back with these two machines is another pair, so that if two important broadcasts from different quarters of the world should coincide, they can both be recorded. Naturally, the three men who share the listening watch maintain a friendly (continued on next page)

(continued from previous page) rivalry for the "news breaks," and as it happens one of them has been consistently lucky. B, C. H. Clarke, the man seen on the job in our photograph, who was a journalist before he joined the NBS, was on the listening watch when the news came through about the landing in Sicily and the fall of Rome. And then, on June 6, he came on duty at 6 p.m., sat. down and put on the earphones for the 6 p.m. news, and then, as the announcer who was present told us, "there was just a broad grin on his face." The BBC had told him that the German news agency had announced Allied landings in France. That was the beginning of a hectic night in the control room, but plans had been carefully laid for the occasion some weeks before. As soon as the BBC news had been recorded, all stations were. called in, in the usual way, and the news broke on New Zealand’s listeners. But in the meantime the Director (Professor Shelley) had been advised by telephone so that he could notify the acting-Prime Minister and Cabinet Ministers, At 7.32 p.m. thé listening watch heard the BBC interrupt a talk by Stanley Maxted to give the now familiar wording of "Communiqué No. 1" from Supreme Headquarters, Allied Expeditionary Force (SHAEF). So within a few minutes 2YA interrupted a studio recital and called in all stations, which were keeping a continuous watch on 2YA for further developments, and at 7.36 p.m. listeners heard the communiqué, the first official news from a British source that the invasion had begun. Then a special programme of appropriate music, opening with the National Anthem, was played over the linkup, and stations remained linked through the evening while extra staff were gathered round to ensure that nothing should go wrong for lack of willing hands. The News Gets Mixed An additional receiving site (i.e, a special powerful receiving set in the home of a member of the staff) was opened up in Brooklyn and several different relays of the BBC’s broadcasts were available not merely for selection but even for mixing. If reception at Titahi Bay is poor for a few moments, reception at Brooklyn may be good at that particular moment, and the signal can be substituted (perhaps without the ordinary listener knowing) or mixed in. The little corner where all this goes on is in the heart of a large building, artificially lighted all day, and air-con-ditioned, so that if you should walk in with an overcoat on your arm you will very quickly be asked if the weather has changed, because the listening watch never sees the weather while on duty, But if the man on watch feels removed from the immediate physical world, he enjoys a privilege above other New Zealanders-he is usually the first to hear the big news.

BECAUSE of the disruption in our pages caused by the news of the Second Front, the customary Health Article has had to be dropped from this issue, but will appear next week.