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SWENSON
416v 19 193,
On April 15, 1912, the unsinkable White Star Liner, S. S.
Titanic, struck an iceberg and sank with a loss of 1500 lives off
the icy grand banks. The radio operator, John George Phillips, sent
the distress call-- 'CQD DE MG17'. CQD was the then known international
distress call. In later years it was changed to 'SOS'. I made record
of this historical fact, because it was shortly after this major sea
disaster, that I saw a radio transmitting and receiving set for the
first time, and radio was to play an important part in my life.
One day while playing on Waverly Place with a chum, Ernie
Hoch, we got acquainted with Teddy Osterwich, who lived at 115. Teddy
had a licensed amateur radio station and invited us up to his house
to look it over. On seeing the mysterious wires, I became fascinated
by the strange contraption and from that time on, I sought to under-
stand it. Parts for radio sets were too costly in those days for one
of my meagre means. However, I wrote to all the radio manufacturers
of that period for catalogues. With these I taught myself the names
of the various parts and their purpose. A few days later, Teddy
passed along the information that an antenna wire was available on
the roof next to Ernie's house. The owner did not want it anymore.
With a coil of rope we sallied forth on a great adventure. Going to
the roof of Teddie's hol-se five stories high, one end of the rope was
secured to the knob of the roof door. Teddy began to make ready to
lower himself, but I insisted on getting the wire myself and after spin-
ning a yarn about how to climb down a rope, I crawled over the edge of
the roof and...zippil..Before I knew what had happened, I had slid down
two stories with my hdans tightly holding the role landing in a pile
of tangled wire on the next roof. The palms of my hands were raw and
bleeding. The other two boys were looking and laughing at my misfortune.
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I gritted my teeth and made my way to the peak of the next roof
in an effort to salvage the antenna. But after tugging for some time
was unable to dislodge it. I gave up the attempt and climbed down
to the street where I was met by Teddy who took me to his father's
drug store and had my hands bandaged.
Always delving into the mystery of radio communication, I read
all the text books on the subject that I could buy or borrow. Finally
I bought enough parts for a sending and receiving outfit, from Raymond
Blauvelt of Nyack for about eleven dollars. The transmitter consisted
of a simple helix, small fixed spark gap, spark coil and key.. The
parts of the receiver were a primary loading coil, tuning coupler,
variable condenser and a Galena detector with a pair of Baldivins head
phones. Securing some copper wire, I put up the antenna connecting
the lead-in to my attic room, where it was fixed up like a den. The
table on Which the apparatus was mounted, was made from packing boxes,
the top covered with a piece of beaver board varnished to give it a
finish. I had not received any license for the sending set, but in
the meantime had mounted the receiver and every night practiced the
code by copying the weather reports from the naval radio station /NAA1
at Arlington, Va.
January 4, 1920, I became 19 years of age, and on March 10., 1920,
secured my license as amateur radio operator, second grand. License
number 0-6135, with the call letters for the station designated as
t2-LQI. Once more I began in earnest to delve into the mysteries of
radio communications.
The nearest amateur station was owned and operated by a man n
South Nyack, call letters, 2 -IS. Hearing him on the air one night,
after my apparatus was hooked up, I gave him a call. He answered al-
right, but he said my note was rotten, the signal was weak and wabbling
all over the dial. A poor report to be sure, but to me it was just
grand, the mere fact that my transmitter had been heard was sufficient
to make me feel equal to Marconi himself. At night I tinkered around
in my attic room, always trying to improve the apparatus and dreaming
of the day when I would become a commercial operator sailing ships on
the high seas.
4141-114H1-1/414HHt•
Early in the month of December, due to a business slump, I was
laid off by the Manhattan Electric
I loafed about town with two other
in an old warehouse and talked for
ing buns and drinking cold coffee.
Supply Company. From that time on,
boys. At night we gathered together
hours, while at the same time munch
During one of these nightly talks,
one of the boys became inspired with the idea of joining the marines.
I seconded the motion, but when it came time to join up, the others
backed out.
On January 4, 1921, my 20th birthday, I journeyed to the recruit-
ing station on East 23rd Street, and enlisted for a.period of four
years in the
tact, I went
the hour the
The trip was
of the 20th,
United States Marine Corps. With my traveling orders in
aboard the SS City of Savannah in the afternoon, and within
ship was underway for our destination, Savannah, Georgia.
uneventful with fair weather all the way. On the afternoon
the ship nosed its way slowly along the muddy Savannah
River. This was the most interesting part of the trip. As the ship
lowly passed by the lighthouse, the 'waving girl of Savannah' stepped
outside and with a large white cloth kept waving it until the ship had
passed by. There was a story of romance woven about this girl, now an
old lady. It seems that many years ago, the waving girl had a s:ilor
sweetheart, so the story goes, and one day her sweetheart sailed
away to sea on a long trip, it was agreed between them, that on
his return he would watch for her, and she should wave to him with
her handkerchief. Her sweetheart never returned, and down through
the years this girl continued to wave to every passing ship, think-
ing perhaps her lover might be on board, until today her faith has
become a tradition. At ten o'clock that night the ship docked, and
gathered my baggage together, I left the ship and hailed a typical
southern coach, piloted by an old darkie who drove me to the Hotel
De Sota.
The next morning, January 21, I entrained at Savannah and late
the same afternoon arrived at Port Royal, South Carolina, where I
was taken in tow by a marine sergeant, who asked for my orders, and
then escorted me to the waiting launch at the wharf. I was assigned
to battalion 113' of the Recruit Depot, where, for the next two months,
I was put through rigorous and greulling training. Arriving at the
Recruit Depot, I was first taken to the military barbers, *here my
hair was cropped close, next my photograph, then the necessary inocu-
lations for typhoid. After all these things, the commanding officer
delivered a lecture on just how to become a good mairine, what to do,
what not to do, and the penalty for any disobedience of orders. Then
the recruits were marched over to the quartermasters store rooms,
where clothes, and equipment were issued. And last but not least,
we were placed in the gentle care of the hard boiled corporals and
sergeants of the training camp, who lost no time in putting us through
the paces.
At five o'clock in the morning we were routed out of bed and
lined up outside the barracks, if it so happened a recruit failed
to snap out of his bunk at the first call, the corporal just dumped
the bunk upside down. Outside shivering in the chilly dawn, the re-
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cruits with eyes still only half open, were given an oral schooling,
the non -corns snapped out questions such as, what is a captain's
insignia? How many stars for a brigade commander, and so on, and so
forth, etc. After first call and the formation outside, there were
setting up exercises. Then the recruits returned to the barracks,
made up bunks according to regulations, and waited for chow call to
sound breakfast. After chow, there were various drills with and with-
out the rifle, schooling on seamanship, then we were marched to the
rifle range where experts taught us how to make a good score with the
rifle and pistol. I became gun-shy on the range and found great diffi-
culty in trying to make good scores. The instructors were not the
least bit gentle in their efforts to make me qualify. The marine
method is hard, but they do turn out fine shots. They talked, shouted,
jammed my arm in the sling and even kicked my elbow, under me until
it was. in the correct position. They were insistent in saying I would
have to qualify before I left the range. I did. I made marksman the
first two years and sharpshooter the last two of the cruise.
41-41-3HHHHHHHHHI
March 15, 1921, I was transferred to the Marine Corps Training
School for radio telegraphers and visual signal men and was attached
to the school detachment. September 1st, transferred to headquarters
detachment at the main station, continuing my studies at the school
while maintaining a 'striker' watch at the Naval Radio Station, NAV,
on the island. On November 15, graduated from the Radio School receiv-
ing a diploma signed by the commanding general, E. K. Cole. I was then
assigned to the Naval Radio Station for duty as regular operator. A
gunnery sergeant was in charge of the radio shack, and the four marine
watch operators. Our sleeping quarters were adjacent to the operating
room, and this convenience certainly was worth its weight in gold to
the operator being routed out of a warm bed to go on watch, let
us say at four o'clock in the morning all that was necessary
to do, was for the operator to pull on a pair of trousers and
slippers, walk a few steps from one room to the other and he was
on duty. The hours of duty consisted of four hours on and eight
hours off duty with every third day off for twenty four hours.
A few weeks after I had been assigned to standing regular
watches, it so happened I was on duty in the wee hours of the morn-
ing, a time when radio traffic wave lengths were practically clear
of business and most operators dosed. I likewise slumped in the
chair in sleepy contentment. In an instant, however, I snapped to
attention, as through the ether on the distress frequency '600
meters', I heard the high shrill note of a transmitter from some
ship sending 'SOS' SOS SOS'. As I listened, the distress call seemed
to form a picture in my mind of three dots, three black dashes and
three red dots. This was the international radio signal for help
and correct reception and prompt assistance, would mean either life
or death to those in distress. All these things rapidly passed
through my mind as I made ready to copy the ship's position. As soon
as the vessel in distress had signed off, I listened for a few moments
to see if any other station would answer. Hearing no other station
reply, I called the coast guard cutter Yamacraw, docked at Savannah.
After a few calls the cutter answered, and I passed on the informa-
tion I had copied. The cutter immediately got underway and proceeded
to the assistance of the 'SS Asche'. The freighter ASCHE had struck
a reef in the Bahamas and was held fast with practically her whole
bottom sheared off. Days later, Merritt and Chapman tugs salvaged
the ship and towed it to Norfolk, using compressed air to keep the
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ship afloat.
In the month of December, 1921, while working a French steamer
by radio, copying !TR', position reports, I thought it would be fun
talking in French to the operator on the ship. I asked some ban
less questions, such as, the tonnage of the vessel, etc., etc., of
course I was well aware of the fact that it was against naval regu-
lations, to use other than strict naval procedure. However, this un-
official conversation was .copied by the operator on the Flagship at
Charleston, S. C., whose duty it was to list all discrepancies. A
few days later I was called before the 'mast/ by the commanding of-
ficer, who asked for an explanation. There was nothing to do but to
tell the truth, consequently I was severely reprimanded, and punished
by being sentenced to the Marine Brigg for a period of three days, in
solitary confinement on bread and water. On entering the cell, I
asked the sergeant where the bed and blankets were. He said, what
the hell do you think this is, a hotel? Get in there and shut up.
It was very cold in this steel cell, with a floor and walls of steel
and no heat.
I was allowed to have a pitcher of water and a quarter of a
loaf of bread. Three times a day, nothing else to eat. From five
o'clock in the morning until after sunset, there was nothing to do
except stand. It was too cold to sit on the floor, and the bed
clothes were removed at daybreek. The men in the other cells kept
yelling and creating a disturbance for some kind of heat, until fin-
ally the guards placed an oil stove just outside each cell. The only
way I could get any benefit from the stove was to kneel down in the
corner of the cell and place my hands outzide the bars. Being in
solitary, I was hot permitted to smoke, nevertheless, every noontime
a friendly celImate left a cigarette butt and a piece of match
lodged in a small opening just above the lock on the door, so
that in spite of regulations I had a short smoke most every day.
After three days I was returned to duty, and thereafter was more
careful to observe orders.
One morning at four o'clock while on duty at the main gate,
one of the civilian electricians came along on his bicycle with a
email bag og insulators, which he had picked up from the ground
where an old house had been torn down. He asked permission to leave
the base, and although our orders were to permit nobody to leave
government property with a package without the proper authority,
these insulators I thought were practically worthless, and had been
discarded anyhow, so I let him go. At this time unfortunately, the
government intelligence service was trying to track down a gang who
were stealing valuable equipment from the base. Detectives were
laying in wait outside the base. I was duely relieved and was asleep
in the guard house a couple hour later when I was roughly awakened.
The judge advocate stood over my bunk and asked point blank if I had
let the electrician out of the base without a pass. I said, yes,
and was immediately placed under arrest and tried by another deck
court martial. This time I was sentenced for neglect of duty to 15
days in the naval brigg and a loss of 15 days pay.
On entering the brigg the warden took my money and cigarettes.
My clothes were locked up and I was issued a white gob suit. Regu-
lations were strict in the brigg, at 5 o'clock in the morning we
arose, took a shower bath, washed our clothes, placed them in the
dryer, then proceeded to our respective duties. My job was to swab
the deck six times a day. After breakfast, we were given a half
hourte airing in the court yard, marching in couples with bracelets
on, with an armed guard stationed at each corner of the yard.
After the morning exercise, we were permitted one smoke, the
tobacco was obtained from what was known as the "smoking locker,"
and each man had to roll his own. I used to roll my cigarette the
size of a cigar in order to get a good long smoke. Once a week by
attending church services in the brigg, we were permitted another
after the services. Of course everybody went to church. It was so
irksome being confined day after day, when not swabbing decks, I
paced up and down in the big cage with some of the other prisoners.
I met all kinds of man. One fellow, a chief petty officer, was up
on charges of sodomy. I talked with him at length on this subject
and found he actually thought one method was as good as another.
One other inmate gave me pointers on how to make a living by being
a fake beggar, a deaf mute, or even having one's arm done up in a
sling as he had done. Every other morning, my commanding officer
stopped in to see if I was well taken care of, and to inquire if I
was in need of anything. Each time he came I asked for a decent
cake of soap, but never got it. At the end of my 15 days, and upon
being officially released from the brigg, I left in a hurry and didn't
look back once.