Chapter 4

DF EQUIPMENT

DEREK FOWLER

This is a picture of an Eddystone 730/4 HF (200 khz - 30 Mhz) receiver used in the 60's. I only used it in training (thankfully) as it was a fairly unstable bit of kit which kept drifting off frequency. It was also inaccurate. During training I couldn't find an outstation which had changed frequency, but I was able to listen to my neighbours' output (we were all listening to the same tape) as he had his volume turned up so high.

Images of other equipment used can be seen on the BVA (Birgelen Veterans Association) site. During my time at Langeleben we mainly used 'Astra' VHF receivers (there were no HF targets). Unfortunately I can't find an image of the set, but it incorporated a spectrum display on the front of the receiver so you could see RF activity in relation to the frequency band you were looking at - consequently ops were able to locate activity much quicker.

The following is mainly about experiences at 13 Sigs, (Birgelen) but it may give you background to further information in relation to workings at Langeleben.

The DF equipment I was familiar with in the 60's and was in use at 13 Sigs was Telefunken PST396 - basically a HF receiver, the output from which was attached to an oscilloscope, around which was a compass rose.  All the equipment was housed in a green cabinet about 6' high, with a sloping desk half way down where you could see the o'scope display, and at which the op sat. Whenever the target was active a line/trace would appear across the 'scope signifying the direction of the signal being received. There was a moveable ruler which was placed alongside the trace, and the bearing could be read off the compass rose. 

DF operators were steered on to tasks by DF Control at 13 Sigs (the DF baseline stretched from S. Germany to N. Germany) by use of morse code and a one time pad. There was a procedure in use so that frequency, station ident etc could be passed by decoding this one time pad and other procedures used to indicate the type of activity the target was involved in so that the DF operator could take the bearing of the correct target.  ie Control would send an 'a' continuously when the target was active in procedure (Qsa imi), 'y' when he went off the air, and other characters to indicate if he was in calls, type of traffic etc. All DF ops had been employed in the main setroom so were generally familiar with the tasks they were targeting (as described in earlier posts). DF results were relayed back to control again using the OTP (one time pad). The morse link was replaced by printer in the early 70's and the DF equipment was also changed/upgraded at that time.

Again I'm not sure of the system in use at Langeleben/Rabke in the 50's 60's, but there was no DF available to the setroom when I arrived there in '73.

I have a vague recollection of control at 13 Sigs being tasked from Langy in the late 60's (using morse/one time pad) - they would send the details to us, we would tune to the target and then task the DF network, sending the results back to Langy on completion. There were vehicles fitted out for VHF DF purposes at Langy, but these were used only on exercise, and were tasked by the main mobile complex, where the intercept was done. As explained in JR's history, the main task in the 70's was Comsec against our own/Allied Forces. Occasionally there were forays up and down the East/West border when the other side was exercising, but these were often unproductive as they went quiet as we moved into location. It was during such an exercise (at the end) that a game of football was organised against a local German town side - the football field was up against the East German border and the sentries in the watchtowers were able to watch the game.

On another, a cinema was rigged up in the forest we happened to be in at the time (bed sheet strung between two trees/no popcorn). The film was 'Willard' about a boy who kept rats and trained them to kill people - we did not sleep well that night, especially as one of us (Keith Mooney?) realised that his bar of chocolate had been 'nibbled' while we watched the show!!

I've kept notes since my DF course at Bletchley in the 60's and today is the first time I've looked at them since - just knew they would come in handy, although it has now been brought to my attention by my first wife (the reference keeps her on her toes) that the attic requires cleaning.

DEREK FOWLER

I was very impressed with the previous article by Derek Fowler on D/F.

As you know when we were operational during the War, we used two types of  D/F. The fixed Adcock sites and the mobile B&C Loops. As I was in 7 Special Wireless Section Type Mobile we had three B & C Loops. When we landed in Normandy I found myself as a L/Cpl i/c number 2 loop. This comprised a 15cwt Bedford Truck towing a single axle shed type trailer which when set up had a diamond loop area situated on the roof. Inside was a bench in the middle with a HRO receiver to listen in to the stations required to take bearings on and a 22 set tuned in to the D/F controller back at the Section to receive the guide signals when the enemy station was sending traffic.

We also had a 15cwt Guy Wireless truck containing a 12 set transmitter and 107 receiver to keep in communication with Section HQ. We laid a Don 8 cable with a telephone handset each end from the D/F trailer to the Wireless truck. Frequencies to be monitored were sent in code on a one time pad to the Wireless truck the operator would decipher and pass on the telephone to the D/F operator. The same procedure in reverse was used to send the bearings back to HQ.

Our team consisted of myself  L/Cpl operator i/c and three other Op. Specs and two drivers. The D/F trailer had to be situated on an open site, away from power lines, railway tracks or other high buildings or any structures containing metal. This meant when, as often in the front line we were very vulnerable. When setting up the trailer this was done with the aid of an issue compass(controlled stores as was the issue watch) and the map of that area, so that the bearings must be spot on. B & C Loops could only be used during daylight.

When you think that the B Type mobile Sections(one with each Corps HQ) had two D/F loops and the two A type sections with their three loops, there must have been some twenty B & C Loops operating with 21st Army Group during the France/Germany Campaign, which also included the time I was attached to 116 SW Section and the 9th United States Army which was under the command of Field Marshall Montgomery after the Ardennes until VE Day, when we were assisting the 137th US Army Radio Intelligence Coy.
Jim Jarman

RECOLLECTIONS

By Paul Cook a Lieutenant (MT Officer) in the Royal Signals whilst at Langeleben

I spent 18 months at Birgelen on operations and was quite used to working with the I corps, I used to sail in R Sigs. regattas with an I corps corporal from Langeleben although I cannot remember his name.

I was at Langeleben for 18 months between June 1961 and January 1963 and was MTO, not on operations. I had been at Birgelen for a year and replaced Hugh Deynham at Langeleben.It is fair to say that officers at Birgelen did not want to be posted to Langeleben but, once there, did not want to leave. It was said that those who went to the East (Langeleben) went native within a few months!

My social life revolved around my girlfriend who was a primary school teacher at the QDQ's and I spent most of my spare time at Wolfenbuettel. Many of the OR's and a few officers were N.Service, as I was before getting a short service commission. Some could not wait to leave others took the opportunity to travel in Germany, probably more so than the regulars, who would be returning to Germany again in the future.

CLICK TO ENLARGE

When I arrived, after an MT course at Bordon, there was an imminent CIV and the Plant Records had not been updated for a year. We completed the records with the help of a selection of pens. We passed the inspection but had to send one ‘basket case’ truck, I remember, to Birgelen on a 'secret' mission.

The officers at the time were Norman Gallyer OC, Capt Smith 2i/c, Lt Allan Blackwell-Jones, an I Corps Lt. and 3 linguists, all captains. Jim Burke Para who is on one of the website photos at the admin inspection in 1962. Jim Bittles RA and (?) Flower. These three used to listen to tapes of VHF intercepts in the Officers dining room.

I remember during the Cuban missile crisis one Russian senior officer speaking to his wife from the field saying 'run the bath, we are coming home tomorrow', which indicated that the crisis was passing!

At one time we had Royal Navy spec ops and being far from the sea on top of a hill they were dressed in R Signals uniforms. One of them committed some misdemeanour and was sentenced to a few days detention. We did not have a guardroom, apart from the MSO hut at the entrance, and he was sent to the QDG's (Queen’s Dragoon Guards) at Wolfenbuttel. We received an anguished call from the QDG's, “he is laying out bellbottoms”! We said “don't worry and don't ask questions”!

We had two civilian German drivers who drove the two water trucks between Konigslutter and Langeleben. I had the bright idea of using the pumps on the trucks to wash down our vehicles, which was fine for a time, but I forgot that it can get cold on top of a hill in winter! One night they froze solid and we had a Board of Enquiry. I was fined £10 which was several days’ pay at the time. I set up a ski lift in the field over the road. We used the winch on a Bedford and a rope over a pulley at the bottom of the hill. It worked fine until the rope broke.....We had a visit from some officers from a neighbouring tank regiment and were told that ‘their signal security was very good’. The OC got permission from the Colonel to intercept and within a morning we knew all about their exercise!

LANGELEBEN 1958-59

As recalled by Chris Rundle

A group of us National Servicemen arrived in Langeleben in the summer of 1958 - all to be demobbed a year later.  We had learnt Russian together at the Joint Services School for Linguists at Crail, in Fife, and had reached there by different routes. In my case I had done basic training, “square bashing” as we called it, with the Buffs in Canterbury. I had then been transferred to the Intelligence Corps at Maresfield, Sussex, where I completed a Field Security Course. I was on home leave prior to being posted to a unit in Germany (BAOR) when I got a telegram recalling me immediately to Maresfield.  There I was told that I was to go to Crail instead. “It’s a feather in your cap,” said the Sergeant Major.

I had actually been quite keen to put into practice the skills acquired during my Field Security course. One exercise which had particularly appealed to me had involved going to the Pantiles in Tunbridge Wells and trailing a number of “suspects”.  In the middle of it I had bumped into my old geography master, and was at a loss to explain to him what I was doing as my “suspect” disappeared round the next corner. Another exercise had involved orienteering in Ashdown Forest.  As I could read a map pretty well thanks to my time in the school CCF, I was put in charge of one squad.  We failed to identify many of the landmarks, but decided not to hang around and marched triumphantly back into camp well before the others.  We never received any comeback.  Perhaps the missed landmarks didn’t actually exist?  Back in the classroom one of the things we learnt about was “orbat”, the order of battle of military units. The chain of command went Army, Corps, Division, Brigade, Battalion, and to remember it I invented my own sort of acronym, “acidbuggers”. Another part of our training was to give ten-minute talks.  Mine was on the history of the cinema - slightly potted!

Anyway, an order was an order so I hurriedly repacked my kit - full battledress - and travelled up to Scotland, recalling as I did so the interview I had had for the Russian course some time earlier. Rather cheekily I suppose, I had told the officers sitting on the board in the War Office that I thought I would be better employed learning Russian than doing other jobs in the army - to which they replied sternly that it was for them to judge!  I thought I had probably blown it. 

After Crail, an isolated camp built on a disused airfield overlooking the North Sea eminently suitable for linguists with long wordlists to learn each evening, we went south to Cheltenham to be trained as Voice Ops at GCHQ.  There I remembered that during the interview I had for some reason been asked how musical I was. The reason now became clear: anyone aspiring to a musical career was not selected for the course because of the damage that wireless operating might do to their hearing. (We were constantly turning the volume up to try to distinguish weak signals among the atmospherics, and I can’t say it did my hearing any good.)       

After Cheltenham we went briefly to Maresfield on transit before being posted to the Royal Signals regiment at Munchen Gladbach in Germany, not far from the Dutch border.  Soon afterwards some of us were posted on to Langeleben, one of its detachments. I don’t remember much about the journey there except that as our troop train picked its way through the sidings at Hannover we were jeered by a number of German railway workers. One can hardly blame them: they may have seen service in the war, which had ended only 13 years before, or just been reacting to the memory of allied bombing of German targets.  But, remarkably, that was the only time I met with any hostility.  And when I visited Berlin as a student a few years later I was impressed by the open-mindedness of the German students who showed us round.

My memories of Langeleben, which was classified as a “forward intercept station”, are mostly quite fond; one tends to forget the hours of tedium or frustration for young men stuck at the end of nowhere close to the East German frontier. Our work was mainly a routine.  On most days we would listen in as Soviet radio operators switched on and, using call signs taken from the names of birds, established communication with each other.  “Eagle I am Hawk. How do you hear me?”  “Hawk I am Eagle. Perfectly.”  At the end of the day they would ask for permission to switch off.  “Swan I am Crane. May we switch off?” “Crane I am Swan. Switch off.”  The letters we wrote down most frequently in our logs were KS, short for the Russian Kak Slyshno, “how do you hear me?”  But every now and then there was a Soviet army exercise and we would be swamped with work, hastily jotting down conversations and sequences of figures as well as making tape recordings on enormous reels. The figures would often be repeated by the Russian operators, read back, and corrected if there was a mistake. All that would be laboriously noted down.

Then there was the day when there was an international scare over Berlin. With one of my friends, I happened to be out for a walk in the woods near the camp when we heard the camp siren.  We decided to pretend we had been too far away to hear it.  But an hour or two later we had to return to camp to report for duty.  There we found the whole unit mustered for parade and about to do a practice evacuation. We hurriedly changed into uniform and grabbed some of our kit before being driven away in army trucks. After a time we stopped and there was a kit inspection, and as we two had not had time to pack essentials for the night we received what was known as a right bollocking.

But discipline at the camp was generally not strict, allowing us to concentrate on our work and to relax in our free time.  We worked shifts, the longest of which, from midnight to 8am, was referred to as the “midty”.  Supervision was fairly minimal.  We handed in logs and tapes after each shift and rarely had any comeback on them.  Sergeant Y, a regular, was responsible for drawing up rosters and various other management tasks.  As you entered the operations block the first room on the right housed Captain B, a linguist himself, who presumably had first sight of interesting material before it was sent off for analysis.  If there was little going on during a night shift I would read Tolstoy’s Anna Karenina in Russian, in preparation for my future university studies.  At the same time I would be searching the airwaves, going up and down the bandwidths - “knobbing” as we called it, though that now suggests a different kind of activity. I remember once tuning in to a concert of classical music from Leipzig, a place which seemed impossibly far away the other side of the frontier. The air in the operations room was fetid.  There was no natural light, and one could not wait to get out at the end one’s shift.  But in its own way the work was absorbing: we were listening to real Russians talking just the other side of the frontier.  I was aware of a courier run to a nearby American unit, and on one occasion found myself talking to one of the Americans there on the phone. As for Mercury Grass, I was well aware of it as a codeword but had no idea of its significance. The “need to know” principle applied.

The informality of life at Langeleben can be illustrated by the manner in which I was promoted to the giddy height of Lance Corporal, the most that we National Service Voice Ops could aspire to.  I can’t remember who informed me.  But I had to go to the stores to ask for a stripe and sew it on my tunic myself.  I am ham-fisted, and the result was far from smart.  Next morning the sergeant asked me what that thing was on my arm.  I explained - he had obviously not heard of my promotion. He told me to get the thing sewn on properly.  I can’t remember who finally did that, but I do remember that the sergeant in charge of the stores, a regular, was always helpful.  Among other things, when I came back off leave a day early in the spring of 1959 he found me a bed and locker without any fuss. (I had been to the Ardennes, in Belgium, to practice my French and see the country. If you were not going back to the UK for your leave the army provided a ticket as far as Liège.)

Promotion meant very little except extra pay.  In those days we assembled for pay parade once a week in the room that doubled up as dining room and assembly hall and smelt of stale cabbage.  By the time I left Langeleben I had probably saved a few hundred pounds from my meagre wages, thanks to the lack of shops and other facilities in the vicinity.    

Organised recreational opportunities were pretty minimal. But Langeleben fielded a football team which took part in the local league and the welfare officer, Captain W, had got some skis for the unit.  Before trying them out locally on the woodland tracks outside the camp a few of us were sent on a week’s “operational training” in the Harz Mountains.  We stayed in a ski hut, ate tinned food, and were instructed by a Scottish sergeant who had experience from the Cairngorms.  His favourite command was to adopt the “vertical shag position” once we had pointed ourselves downhill.  Luckily there were no broken legs.  We went back to the Harz Mountains a couple of times to watch ski-jumping championships.  It was a picture postcard setting.  Sometimes we would walk to the local towns and villages on our days off and once I took the train to the border town of Helmstedt, where one of the other linguists from my Russian course, Steve Dorner, was now based.  His job was to travel on the British military train which went daily from Brunswick (Braunschweig) to Berlin via Helmstedt and East German territory.  When I got to Helmstedt the place was stiff with Military Police. My instinctive reaction amused Steve, who was used to working with them.  Konigslutter, just a few miles from the camp, was of course the main place to go for a drink in the evenings. I remember once getting impatient waiting for the truck back home and trudging back up the hill. It was actually quite a stretch. I didn’t try it again.

There was a film show once a week.  Although I went to most of them, the only one I can remember is Peyton Place, because of the effect it had on one sex-starved individual who was heard to shout “Drop her on your cock!” We seemed to be back to the basics of basic training, where a former Borstal inmate had asked us on the first day if we had “had our oats”. Other leisure moments were spent more innocently lying on our beds, known in the army jargon as “pits”, reading, listening to music or engaging in barrack room banter.  The cynicism of the latter, which exceeded even the attitude prevalent at my minor boarding school, had a lasting effect.  As for the music, one of the hit songs to be heard on the British Forces Network was Connie Francis’s Carolina Moon, a wistful number which struck a chord with people far away from family and friends.  There was also, of course, plenty of Elvis Presley, while one of my workmates was repeatedly humming Frank Sinatra.  By the time I arrived the unit had acquired a small library and in it I discovered a copy of the Diaries of Virginia Woolf, which laid bare my shameful ignorance of world literature. I wrote down a long list of works to read once I was demobbed.

As we were in Langeleben only one year, we could not be sure how many things that happened were new or already routine - the skis had apparently been there some time - but I remember a notice going round about the opera house in Braunschweig and I went to an opera there with a couple of my mates, driven both ways by army transport as part of the unit’s welfare effort. We saw an unforgettable performance of Wagner’s Das Rheingold.

In my day the accommodation at Langeleben was satisfactory, if sparse.  The washing and toilet facilities were adequate, the huts well heated in the winter.  The food was unimaginative and not a patch on that at Crail, where we had had a lot of fresh salads from the surrounding farms.  Used to school food, I did not particularly care, except that the oily chips which were part of our staple diet had a bad effect on some of our stomachs. At mid-morning the NAAFI used to call in at the camp with some very popular ham rolls.

Notwithstanding the chips, I remember health in the camp as being generally good - the air was crisp and bracing.  But during my time in Langeleben one of the Catering Corps personnel whose billet was close to mine became ill and suddenly died.  Whether better medical facilities would have saved his life I don’t know. I remember seeing his coffin being carried away by men from the unit. The poor guy had always looked overweight, but no-one had seen this coming.

Boredom was the main reason why I accepted a challenge to climb the radio mast (out of bounds of course). Coming back down was certainly worse than going up. To keep fit I frequently went for walks or runs in the surrounding forest, once coming across a satanic-looking wild boar. Whereas Maresfield and Crail had boasted rugger teams, in Langeleben there was, as already mentioned, little scope for sports other than football and ski-ing.  But a friend of mine who was brought up with horses did some riding at stables fairly nearby and when he asked me if I could ride I foolishly said yes, having reached the cantering stage back in Wiltshire.  I soon found myself mounted on a huge steed with a mile of German plain in front of it.  For the first, and last, time in my life I galloped.

Throughout National Service, we all had a “bolshy” attitude.  We were doing what we did under sufferance.  In retrospect I might have been more grateful to officers such as Capt B and Capt W for their hands-off attitude and for arranging for us to go ski-ing, visit the opera in Braunschweig, see film shows, etc. I remember that on Christmas Day 1958 the army tradition was observed of the officers serving Christmas dinner to the other ranks.  Capt B entered into the spirit of the thing. 

Like many National Servicemen, I was demobbed a couple of weeks before my two years were up.  We were put on the night ship from Hook of Holland to Harwich, and I arrived on my parents’ doorstep next morning.  My father was at work and my mother was doing her weekly charitable work at a hospital, not having expected me so early in the day.  As I sat on the doorstep I didn’t really care. There would be stories to tell but how to explain the uniqueness of Langeleben, without giving away secrets?  We had of course been just a small part of the effort to monitor the activities of Soviet forces in Germany - principally, in our case, the 3rd Shock Army with its HQ in Magdeburg.  At times I envied my father, who as an Intelligence Officer with the 43d Wessex Division had been in a “teeth arm” unit during the Second World War. (It was the first British unit to cross the river Seine after the Normandy landings, and he was one of the first to enter the Belsen concentration camp - don’t believe those American films!) But we had contributed in our own way to the peace which was maintained thereafter.  As for all that secrecy, when I faced an oral exam on going up to Cambridge a couple of months later one of the first questions was, in translation, “So you were listening in?”  The examiner had placed his hands on his ears, imitating headphones.  My answer, in translation, was “One should not say so.”

Now, after all those years, there is some fascination in discovering in more detail what we were all up to in Langeleben at various times in its history.

(Christopher Rundle’s memoirs,” From Colwyn Bay to Kabul: An Unexpected Journey”, contain a chapter on his National Service, including time at Langeleben. The book can be obtained by contacting the publishers on their website www.thememoirclub.co.uk, or email memoirclub@email.msn.com

RAMBLINGS OF A NATIONAL SERVICE MAN.

23361827 Lloyd W R (Bill)57/01.

I see that the experiences of being called up, and Basic Training, etc. have been well covered with other articles, and rather than repeat, (and bore) too many readers, I thought it would be preferable just to mention the salient points that come to mind, of what I can remember after all these years.

CATTERICK CAMP. Having to report to Vimy Lines, and 3 Troop, with Cpl. Sixsmith as instructor, I am sure was an experience similar to that of all new arrivals at that time. The Corporal, and his assistant were Gods.

SPORT. Day one, established if there were any soccer, rugby or other sportsmen in our batch. No luck there with our lot.

GUARD DUTY. How was it that after a night on Duty, one arrived back at your bed space to be told that in your unwashed/unshaven state, you were expected to be out on parade in less than 5 minutes? Why was it that when your appearance was queried about by an inspecting sergeant, the excuse of 'Guard Duty' was unacceptable?

TOILET CLEANING. My luck to have ended up in charge of the barrack room toilets which must be spotless for tomorrow's inspection. Trying to keep half the toilets unused whilst being on permanent cleaning duty for the remaining toilets was a challenge. I was scarred for life.

THE PSSS MAN. After a month of arms drill, it was necessary to replace the 'out loud' '123' by a more subtle method. So, someone in the back row is ordered to say 'psss' in a whisper in place of '123'. All goes well until the passing out parade, when the Sergeant Major goes berserk whenever he hears a 'psss'. The Cpl. Says keep using it as, without it, we won't slope arms in unison and the S.M runs round trying to locate the ‘psss’ man.

YOUR NAME. There was no way the Troop Officer could remember all the names of the Troop, so if the Inspecting Officer was to stop and ask the name of anyone on the Passing Out Parade, the Troop Officer would say, “Smith, sir, and he is a carpenter”. You did NOT argue!

ELECTRICIAN IN THE HOUSE. Just drifting off to sleep when this cry came from the Cpls. Quarters. If not answered quickly, you would regret it. So, a volunteer got out of bed, and switched off the light in the Cpl's room.

SHOW US HOW. My mistake was to have confessed to having been in the school Cadet Force. So, when we were crawling on our stomachs in the snow or mud, it was suggested that I give them the benefit of my experience. More cleaning for me that night.

GARAT'S HAY. The 'new barracks' were under construction, but for 5 months we were in the war-time Nissen Huts which were experienced by all those Spec. Ops up until June 1957. It was a cold winter, and the 'snow lay on the ground'. The coal fire stoves that had to be kept lit; the limited washing facilities, are remembered.

'FLU OUTBREAK'. I think it was the flu that had hit the Midlands. We all had to go on a 'gargling' parade; mugs filled with some throat gargling mixture, and spit it out on parade. Unique, I always thought.

EARTHQUAKE. In addition, there was an earthquake nearby. An omen of things to come?

NEW BARRACKS. In May or June 1957, all moved over to the new barracks. Central heating, clean, hot water. A different world!

SERGEANT'S REVENGE. We should have spotted it. New Barracks, plenty of duties to be done. Full turnout, all hoping to avoid the worst job that we could spot from afar. “Fall out all those excused boots”; “those in the choir”; ” those on leave this weekend” and so on. A goodly squad soon built up, hoping that they had avoided the obvious... no such luck, this was the party selected....aching hands, and a few bruises later, we were the wiser.

5 MILE RUN. I think it was 5 miles. Compulsory, to ensure the fitness of everyone, and all had to go on it, including the C.O. Soon worked out that if we hid behind a wall on the way out, we could rejoin the runners on their return. Got away with it.

QUORN HUNT. It started from the yard outside the Officer's Mess, under a tree. The orderlies went round with a silver tray and drink was provided to all on horseback. We, the poor relations watched how the other half lived. Meantime about two dozen hounds sniffed and licked us, and cocked a leg on anything that looked like a tree stump. The anti hunt brigade, (yes, even back then) enticed as many hounds away to the nearest Nissen Hut, and impounded them. Only as the horn sounded when ready to move off were the hounds released in view of the noise that they were making.

12 WIRELESS SQUADRON BAVARIA. PROMOTION. Promoted to L/Cpl. (Acting, unpaid). Necessary to keep in order the two others with me on the 'ship' from Harwich, and rail journey to Munich. Used the 1st Class toilets, much to the discomfort of the indigenous population. Lost my spectacles and case, only to have them returned to me a month later; the only clue for the finder being the Surname, and reference to BFPO 36. Full marks to all involved. Felt guilty about the toilet invasion on the train to Munich.

BARRACKS TO DIE FOR. Yes the new barracks at Garat's Hay were great, but, here we were in ex German Mountaineer Troops', pre war, solid, winter proof, with central heating, double glazing barracks, with daily cleaning staff for the corridors and toilets. (Catterick toilet scars begin to heal at this news.) Paradise. And five minutes from the nearest 'refreshments', with the local cinema in the barracks, or the village. Austria was not far away, and Italy only a train ride away. One could have been tempted to sign on for life, but there was a rumour about how long this posting would last.

ARMISTICE PARADE 11/11/ 57. Bussed over to the British War Memorial site at Miesbach for a Remembrance Service. The whole squadron, (not on duty) paraded in best uniform, (and in the snow) with the highlight being at 11am precisely, when the Sergeant would fire a revolver. 11am came. Silence The revolver would not fire. Good job the Russians didn't hear about this.

THE END. Sure enough, the transfer of personnel started in mid 1958, and after a brief stay at Birgelen, I was on the move again to a place called Langeleben.

LANGELEBEN. After 12 Wireless, what had I come to?? Wooden buildings, guards in strange uniforms on the gate, who didn't speak English, and a very 'relaxed' approach to everything. Posted to C watch... or was it D Watch? No cleaning staff, and the cinema in the Naafi, with your chair piled up on the nearest table.

REGIMENTAL MORNINGS. What were they for? I don't remember doing any serious work. The photos on the Gallery Website, and my own collection show 'skivers' every time.

YOUR TURN FOR THE TOAST. Now cooking was not a gift. At home, Mother had seen to it that I knew where the kitchen was, but that was it. I had difficulty with a tin of beans as a Boy Scout. So to be told at 2am that it was my turn for making the toast, and collect the tea urn was a challenge. Fortunately, the duty cook got the tea urn ok, but my toast left much to be desired. I was never asked to make the toast again.

KEEP QUIET. Half asleep returning to bed after being on watch one night, I found that someone had let off a fire extinguisher, and the corridor was covered in foam. As I walked on, I noticed that the Sergeant's room door was open, and that the light was on. So, being a true scout, I put my head round the door, just to mention what I had seen. I was immediately 'impounded' and 'grilled' for an hour, on firstly, 'why had I done it?', and if not me, 'who had I seen running away?'. The fact that I had just come off watch, was no excuse.

VISITORS. The shift system made it more than likely that the person that you wanted to see was always there when you weren't.

THE PADRE. Met him once on a visit. I wanted to discuss the recent discovery of the Dead Sea Scrolls. He was only interested as to the opening time of the NAAFI.

THE BARBER. Always seemed to be about when we were on our 'Day Off', so always avoided him.

THE TAILOR. The height of fashion then was 'drain pipe' trousers, and we paid to have our civilian trousers 'taken in'. They ended up so tight that we could hardly get them on. A visiting civilian tailor obliged.

BRUCKSTRASSE. I have left the best 'til last. Only recently has a photo referring to this address been added to the gallery. There is an oblique reference in other articles in the Project, but who didn't at least go and 'look'.

THE END. Demob happy, demob chart being ticked off in the count down, and transfer to Birgelen. Goodbye to all the 'mates' you met, and shared an experience with that will be with you for the rest of your life. A final interview with the CO at Birgelen, who asks...”would you like to stay on in the army. Train, ship and train home, and back to Civvy Street.

LANGELEBEN 1982-85

Another Instalment from John Richardson

Money vs Equipment. The first thing that must be said is that 225 Signal Squadron, and it’s successor, 14^th Signal Regiment, (unlike 13^th Signal Regiment, which was paid for and equipped by GCHQ), was an Army unit, the Army financed the unit and it’s equipment. When it came to deciding between a new tank, or a new intercept complex, we naturally came off second best. When 13^th Signal Regiment equipped Dannenberg with new state-of-the art VHF intercept radios, the old (steam) ones were given to Langeleben. (Well at least now we didn’t have to strip the setroom of radios to go out on exercise!). Our 3/4-ton Land Rovers had all seen better days, when I arrived in 1982 there were still a couple of right-hand-drive vehicles in use. The “new” one-tonne Land Rovers that we received in 1983/4 had been rejected by the Artillery as too underpowered to tow guns, (so we filled them up with heavy radio equipment and put a steel plate in them to keep them stable!). When we went to the Gulf in 1990 we were loaned four Hummel jammer vehicles by the Bundeswehr, as our old Bedfords were too slow and unreliable. This parsimonious attitude continued all the time I served there.

Division of Effort .  The role of the unit was to provide Commander, 1^st British Corps with tactical EW support. For admin purposes the Soviet Army did not use trunk systems, but in the 1960s-1990s used morse and teleprinter, and later radio relay networks. The analysis of these communications systems gave much information for strategic intelligence, but for tactical purposes was of little use. Thus, 13^th Signal Regiment, as the theatre strategic signal intelligence regiment carried on the analysis of callsigns, frequencies, DF, RFP etc. The morse and printer nets in East Germany were clearly audible in Birgelen (skywave skip distance). Langeleben covered VHF tactical voice communications in north-western East Germany . Morse was rarely taken, even though the local VHF morse nets were blasting out.

Setroom. The setroom was only viewed as a training facility by the Regiment. The fact that we produced tactical intelligence was only a secondary task.

Intercept flow-chart. The procedure was as follows, the pilot operator in the set room scanned the VHF spectrum for Soviet Military voice comms. Above his VHF set was an oscilloscope which displayed a section of the VHF spectrum. When a transmission was made, then a “spike” would appear above the line and when the transmission ended, then the spike disappeared. The operator turned his knob until the spike was in the centre of the oscilloscope screen. The pilot would listen to it and decide if it was worth taking. If this was so, then he would pass it to one of the other 3 ops on the shift. He then started recording the net, on 7” reel magnetic tape, later tape cassettes, logging each transmission until about 20 minutes “take” was on the reel. This was then passed through to the transcription section, where a full transcript (not translation) was produced in triplicate, this took anything from 30 minutes to an hour, depending on difficulty or audio level. The tapes would be stored for a couple of months, before being wiped and re-used. The completed logs were passed to the duty reporter who wrote a report (or more if necessary) on the activity, which was sent to all interested parties (1 BR Corps, HQ BAOR, GCHQ et al). The second copy went through to the commcen for semi-processing, where an operator (usually on the mid shift) would punch up the log as a perforated tape for transmission over the teleprinter link to databases in Birgelen and Cheltenham .

OP(EW).  From 1972 voice operators were a separate trade from AnSI, called “Operator (Electronic Warfare) and was open to both AnSIs and Spec Ops. Int Corps Op(EW)s were obliged to learn morse. I had learnt the morse code as an Army Cadet, now I had to report to the duty Radio Supervisor at Birgelen every afternoon to draw morse training tapes, and do an hour’s morse. Before departing for the fleshpots of Cheltenham I had to pass a morse test at 12 wpm.

The voice part of the course lasted six months, I had the advantage of an “A” Level in Russian, so it was mainly a question of learning new vocabulary. After the six months had passed, we moved to Loughborough for three months “Conversion Course”. The Spec Ops did a shortened An(SI) course, and the Int Corps did morse and radio theory. I finished up taking morse by hand at about 23 wpm, blocks, figures, and plain text.

For this we were rewarded with “T” (Technician) rates of pay. (An(SI) and Spec Ops were only “A” trades).

At the completion of the course in 1976 everybody else was posted to 225 Signal Sqn at Langeleben, which was being built-up for the formation of 14 Signal Regt in 1977. The only soldier on the entire course who was posted to 13 Sigs was me (don’t ask me why). 

Training cycle. Soviet Army conscripts were called-up for two years service, the call-up taking place twice a year, in May and November. The training cycle ran for six months, before repeating itself. The new recruits arrived in theatre, and carried out their basic training, drill, weapon training, then the motor rifle troops built up from section battle drills, platoon battle drills, company battle drills, battalion battle drills, regimental exercises, through to divisional exercises.

The other arms (tank troops, artillery, pontoon bridging troops, anti-aircraft, missile troops etc.) carried out their special-to-arm training. After six months the time-expired men left and the new conscripts arrived. For us this meant that April-May and October-November were extremely quiet periods, March and September usually the busiest times of year.

VHF voice intercept.  The VHF spectrum between 20-50 MHz was scanned by the voice operator. Our rotatable antenna was permanently at 70°, as just about everything we got came from the LHTA. The first priority on picking up a Russian voice net was to decide a) is it military or civil. At some times (high sun-spot activity, for example) taxis in Moscow or Leningrad could be heard. b) if military, what type of activity? low-level tactical training, column movement, tank driver training, artillery?.

Artillery was our bread and butter. A Soviet motor rifle battalion has a mortar battery. A regiment has a self-propelled artillery battalion, a division has an artillery regiment, with guns, multiple-barrelled rocket launchers and a missile battalion, an army has an artillery brigade with guns, multiple-barrelled rocket launcher brigade, SCUD missile brigade, and the Front had an artillery brigade. It is the same for anti-aircraft artillery/missile troops. GSFG as a Front, with 19 Divisions, and 76 Regiments had an abundance of artillery. The artillery ranges in the Letzlinger Heide and at Altengrabow were almost daily in use. The day began early with taking the meteorological data before firing began, and then from about 0800 to 1300 the artillery would practice sending firing orders or sometimes live firing. The units and their weapons were well identified, of interest for us was if the weapon parameters had changed (range, charge numbers, elevations, expenditures) which might indicate a new type of gun.

Training areas.  Langeleben’s raison d’etre was the proximity of the largest troop training area in East Germany , the Letzlinger Heide Training Area (LHTA), to the north of Magdeburg . The names of features (partly Russian, partly German) were well known to the ops. The artillery ranges and tank training areas were all easily heard from Langeleben. Most of the divisions of 3 Shock Army or 2 Guards Tank Army were regular visitors here.

TRA/PRA.  The training areas of East Germany were obviously out of bounds to the western Military Liason Missions (BRIXMIS, USMLM, MMFL) and this was indicated on a map of the GDR as “Permanently Restricted Areas” (PRA). When a major exercise was expected the Soviet authorities declared additional “Temporary Restricted Areas” for the duration of the exercise. This news was usually greeted with resignation, as we knew we would be busy. Similarly:

River Closure.  The LHTA is cut through by the River Elbe. At certain points, Kehnert, Sandau, Havelberg, the Soviets carried out forced river crossings, which were of especial interest for BAOR (defending the Weser, or even the Rhine ). When a crossing was imminent, then the Elbe would be closed to river traffic for a certain period, 24 hours or so. This happened every weekend in September, I seem to remember.

1977-1982:   SHQ (OC, 2IC, SSM, Orderly Room Sgt, Clerks, Pay Clerk, LAD REME, Stores, cooks)

A Troop (Intercept Operators, in four shifts. The shifts were numbered W1 W2 X1 and X2, on exercise they formed two intercept troops Whisky and X-Ray).

Support troop (Transcribers, reporters, technicians, ops bureau, Sqn ops/plans)

O Troop (YoS, Radio ops, data telegraphists)

D Troop (Spec Ops with DF dets)

In 1983 the organisation was changed to reflect the Squadron’s organisation when on deployment:

1983-1985         SHQ Troop (Squadron Command Post, Squadron Probe, SQMS, LAD)

W Troop (Intercept troop with radio vehicles, 4 x DF vehicles)

X Troop (Ditto)

Y Troop (Ditto) (On deployment belonged to 2 Sqn but was based at Langeleben for training))

(V Troop formed up in 1986 as part of 2 Sqn at Celle)

An Intercept complex was formed from three land rovers backed up at 3, 6 and 9 o'clock, and the space between covered with a large canopy. Here a table was provided where the complex commander the OC (days)/Supervisor Radio (nights)) and the duty analyst sat. In two of the land rovers were found two intercept positions, the back door was removed and the operators could talk to the OC.  The third Land Rover was the comms vehicle, where the DF controller (DFC) and the data telegraphist with teleprinter link to RCP sat. A shift lasted 12 hours 0600-1800 hours and 1800-0600 hours. If the exercise lasted over a week, then the shifts would swap over. Close to the complex would be the radio technician’s workshop vehicle, where he could carry out minor repairs. The cookhouse truck (chuck wagon) was a short distance away, the troop cook magicked three hot meals a day and always had a brew ready. I always found the grub good and hot. (On one exercise the cook wondered where all the bodies were coming from, then realised that the Germans from the Bundeswehr intercept unit over the way were joining our queue as our food was far better than their rations!) The food was a mixture of tinned composite rations, and after a few days we would get fresh rations (to move the bowels). On the last night of a major exercise the cook would put on a speciality night (steak, Italian, Greek etc.) and as we were by now non-tactical the guitars would be brought out for a sing-song and smoking concert!

The two intercept complexes were located with one forward and one back, with, say, the forward complex on the Elm and the back complex on the Deister west of Hannover . Typical exercise play saw the forward complex retiring after a couple of days to the Teutoburger Wald west of the Weser , then after a couple of days the complex on the Deister would retire further westwards. Co-located with the forward complex was the Squadron Command Post where the OC sat with his two watchkeepers operating the radios (one on the Regimental Command Net, and one controlling the Squadron Command Net), and if we were fully deployed, next door, the Jammer Control vehicle, too.

The Squadron Probe Vehicle, when not deployed, was also based here. The Probe was a mini intercept complex, a vehicle with two intercept positions and a radio transmitter, towing a mast. This could be deployed to test reception in an area before a full complex moved in, or could go out to look into areas which the complex could not hear, or support other units (Bundeswehr, US forces).

Co-located with the rear complex were the SQMS and the stores, together with the REME LAD.

In barracks the troops carried out two week training cycles. Two weeks manning the setroom, two weeks language training, two weeks military training/vehicle maintenance. The troop carrying out mil training was on standby for rapid deployment. If, for instance, a division moved into the northern LHTA, then Operation FLAGPOLE could be declared, and the troop, (or often the Probe) could deploy up the inner German border, say, to the Dannenberg Salient with its DF baseline. And of course there were the British exercises, for which EW support (often as Enemy) were in great demand, so we usually had a troop out in the busy periods. Space was limited at Langeleben, the only vehicles which remained here were the Yeoman’s radio vehicles, the SQMS’s lorry and the MT lorry, the 40-seater bus “the white elephant”, and the PRI minibus. All the other Squadron vehicles were garaged at Wolfenbüttel.

Life in Camp.  Married soldiers lived in quarters in Wolfenbüttel, SNCOs and Officers in Braunschweig. The single/unaccompanied troops lived on camp. The facilities in the camp at this time were good. The accommodation was beginning to show its age, and the drainage/water supply systems were continually being repaired. Nevertheless, the single accommodation was still good for that time. Birgelen, for example, still had eight-man barrack rooms, and the RHQ at Scheuen accommodated soldiers in caravans. A launderette with industrial washing machines (tokens could be bought at the PRI) was in constant use. The cinema was now only used for training films or presentations. Throughout BAOR the British Forces Broadcasting Service (BFBS) television could be received by just about all units, except Langeleben and Helmstedt, so the programmes were video-taped in Wolfenbüttel and played a day later on a cable system installed by the technicians. The well-equipped gymnasium was busy into the evenings. Social life revolved round the messes or the NAAFI.  

OFF DUTY.  Braunschweig was the magnet for a big night out. Bruch Straße was always a source of interest, especially after a three-week exercise. The Jolly Joker Disco was a favourite. In Königslutter there was a disco in the Amtsgericht, which burnt down in ?1985. The “Lord” pub was a favourite with the troops, the SNCOs drank in the “Kaiserschenke”, the MT in the “Sportklause”. In 1983 the “King George” (English pub) opened and was an  immediate hit with the troops. On Saturday nights there was a disco in the “Königshof” Hotel, but it was more expensive.

LANGELEBEN MEMOIRS

Gordon Peacock, Intelligence Corps. A Russian speaking Voice Op.