´óÏó´«Ã½

This is an account with a different emphasis from those usually described about the second world war. In this account I have attempted to describe the consequences of my boyhood experiences during the war. As you will see I have every reason to be grateful that I spent my youth in wartime England. Whilst there was austerity and shortages to live with, it was an exciting time for a boy with an enquiring mind.

I had just turned 11 at the outbreak of war. I was intrigued by how things worked and I collected articles from ‘Picture Post’ and ‘The War Illustrated’ that showed the inner workings of military equipment like the Spitfire, tanks, the Bren Gun and so on. In particular, I had a great interest in wireless. I had made my first crystal wireless receiving set, aged 9, being encouraged by the Empingham village school headmaster, Mr. W. Forsyth. I was given discarded wirelesses by friendly neighbours who had learned of my interest. By trial and much error I attempted to make them work, but mostly I took them to pieces to reuse parts in my own experiments. I made one valve or two valve receivers for the long and medium wavebands and by 1941 I had discovered short waves. I was amazed that such simple receiving equipment was capable of world wide reception. The ´óÏó´«Ã½ weekly publication ‘Radio Times’ of that era had a column providing schedules of foreign broadcasts. In particular I was able to listen to trawlers and rarely, but with great excitement, aeroplanes of the RAF. I had learned the Morse Code early in 1940 but I had had little success in making much sense of this common form of communication, the majority of the messages being unintelligible, being either in cipher or a foreign language.

By 1941 the village was ringed by airfields at North Luffenham, Woolfox Lodge, Cottesmore and Wittering, and several others within a 20 mile radius, some of which had bomber squadrons. There were numerous crashes, often at take-off, but some on landing as the result of enemy action during the mission. Eventually, the remains of these wrecks passed to local scrap metal merchants for the recovery and recycling of the metal content. I found metal boxes, mostly painted black, containing electronic circuits that served some purpose not known to me at the time. The boxes were mostly mangled or burnt but were a veritable gold mine to me. The component parts that I salvaged were of a superior quality, far better than the parts that I had recovered from pre-war wirelesses. The thermionic valves were unknown to me, having military type numbers, but I was able to examine the structure because many had become broken in the crash Sometimes I broke the glass envelope in order to discover the class of valve, and its base connections, so that I could experiment with them. I became proficient in testing these valves to evaluate their properties. Without exception the properties were superior to anything else that I had. Then I turned my attention to the function of the box. I traced out the circuit and spent many hours in attempting to determine how they worked. Mostly unsuccessfully, my knowledge and understanding were still developing, but it was a wonderful voyage of discovery. By dismantling the parts, I was able to examine the construction of specialised parts in a way that no text book could convey.

My experiments became far more adventurous with the acquisition of these superior parts. I attempted to emulate the constructional techniques used in the boxes, which was far more formal and systematic than that used in pre-war wirelesses. The magazines of the time, ‘Practical Wireless’ and ‘Wireless World’ were often the stimulus for these experiments. They provided insights into the technology that was just that I needed. Because I had no access to anyone with more knowledge than I had in these wireless matters, there was no asking questions to provide answers. I often spent hours studying these technical articles, working through the mathematics, writing notes and drawing sketches. Reading and rereading until the functioning became clear. Mathematics was at the heart of the technology. I could manage the algebra from school, but I needed much more. I found a series of low cost books (by EUP I believe, at 2s/6d) in the ‘Teach Yourself’ series from which I learnt trigonometry, complex numbers and eventually the elements of calculus. These skills were necessary for a full understanding of ‘The Admiralty Handbook of Wireless Telegraphy, Volumes 1 and 2’ that I bought in 1943 and which served me well for several years. The handbooks were well presented, being structured in such a way that as understanding increased another level of difficulty was presented.

Towards the end of the war the ‘black boxes’ were often discarded in near new condition, presumably being superseded by better equipment. I worked out the method of interconnection of the boxes to form a system. At the end of the war vast amounts of ‘war surplus’ electronic equipment was offered for sale and by mid 1946 I had assembled a full set of boxes to form an H2S radar system, which box by box I was able to get working. This was a significant learning exercise for me and was my pride and joy for several years.

Where did all of this lead? I served my National Service in the RAF in signals development. I was encouraged to develop my designing and making skills. I enjoyed my National Service, and I am grateful that I was entrusted with projects that I was able to take to completion, and which provided a good deal of self satisfaction, as well as personal development in the art of ‘wireless’. After National Service I graduated in Pure and Applied Mathematics and Physics and later a Masters degree in the Design of Electronic Circuits. I spent my working life in education, encouraging young undergraduates in the joy of electronics design. After retiring from the university I worked in industry designing navigation equipment until I was 73, being awarded two patents along the way. I still have the Admiralty Handbooks that I look at from time to time with intense nostalgia. I owe so much to those two volumes. I still treasure them, and I admire the presentation of the technical matters they contain.

Now, looking back over my lifetime I can assess the various stimuli that have had an influence on my life. Many, doubtless shared by many readers, were due to the encouragement of my school teachers, but without doubt those mangled and or burnt boxes were of supreme importance. They added to my knowledge, stimulated my imagination, provided the spur to get to grips with mathematics, and provided intense excitement as I solved a problem with my experiments with the parts that I salvaged from them. This laid the foundations of a career. Without doubt I would not have achieved as much as I have without those black boxes. They came into my life at the optimum time for me, and I have been pleased to tell my children and grandchildren about my experiences with the black boxes, especially in the context of ‘what did you do in the war’.

Who would have thought so much could stem from the detritus of war ?

© Copyright of content contributed to this Archive rests with the author. Find out how you can use this.