Of “Dits” and “Dahs”
Jul 14th, 2011 | 10 responses
As a young U.S. Air Force airborne radio operator in the late 50s and early 60s, I became very good at using Morse code—you know, the art of sending dots and dashes in the form of short and longer bursts of radio energy through the atmosphere, and beyond.
I became very good partially out of necessity. You see, as a recent immigrant to the United States, I still had a heavy accent when I spoke English. Thus, when trying to get through to a ground station “by voice,” especially when using the old HF (High Frequency) radio with all its accompanying crackling, whistling and fading, the transmissions from the other side consisted mostly of “say agains.” No wonder I became very skilled at tapping out streams of “dits” and “dahs” at speeds up to 30 words per minute.
With improvements in communications technology, a system that had been a lingua franca of maritime and military communications “since before the Titanic”( paraphrasing the New York Times), slowly began to sink in the 70’s, but is still popular among amateur radio operators and is still used to identify air traffic navigational aids, etc.
A method of communications that became vital to wartime armies and navies for the secure (encrypted) transmission of critical messages and orders and one that has undoubtedly saved hundreds if not thousands of lives at sea through the transmission of SOS messages ( “• • • — — — • • •”) when all else failed, Morse code still has a dedicated following.
This became evident to me when I read an article in today’s New York Times describing how a group of Morse code “die-hards” bent on preserving Morse code, hold an annual “radio reboot” known as the Night of Nights on the anniversary of the last Morse code broadcast from a coastal California station in 1999.
It is a night when many former radio operators, Morse code enthusiasts and sentimentalists once again fill the ether with “the music of Morse, one key tap at a time.”
For this former airborne radio operator who relied heavily on the “music of Morse” and who still finds himself tapping away with his fingers words in a code that was—through training, practice and necessity—ingrained in him, the article was quite interesting—and nostalgic.
You may enjoy it, too.
Over and out.
Image, courtesy flickr.com
10 Responses to “Of “Dits” and “Dahs””
Dorian, thanks for this lovely picture of the original digital form of communication! So much history… – Nancy
Dorian, I got my General license about 20 years ago when a certain level of code proficiency was required to pass the test. I started enjoying CW so much that 99% of my operating was code. I haven’t been on the air since my antennas blew down in a storm, but I had a blast when I was active.
Charming and interesting article, as always, Mr De Wind.
BTW, Morse was also an extremely proficient portrait painter in his day.
Nancy, JS and roro, thank you for your nice and interesting comments.
(JS, do you find yourself at times in your mind and with your fingers “tapping away” in Morse code?
Not so much Dorian because I used iambic paddles most of the time and a straight key just now and then. I do find myself occasionally thinking the code for signs I see when I’m driving though. Funny how it stays with you so well.
Dorian de Wind wrote:
If you couldn’t sneak a portable chess set in, or pass notes, tapping your pencil in Morse code is an old pass-the-time trick as a kid in a boring class.
(A buddy and I used the deaf-signing alphabet, too. Hee, hee)
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Incidentally, it’s not Morse but no doubt you recognize the consistent Morse letter Q when trains approach and cross road crossings, don’t you?
(long, long, short, long)
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Back on topic: No doubt de Wind and Spencer know that the Titanic sent CQD, not SOS.
That’s interesting, DLS. I did not know that. Thanks.
Further reading reveals that “before SOS, the code was CQ which meant anyone listening, please respond. A third letter followed, revealing the reason for the hail. In the case of distress, it was a “D.” So it was that when the Titanic hit an iceberg shortly before midnight on its maiden voyage in April 1912, operator John G. Phillips sent a mayday message using the old emergency code and the new one. Titanic’s exact Morse code transmission that cold night was, CQD CQD SOS SOS CQD DE MGY MGY. “MGY” were Titanic’s call letters, while “DE” meant from ['This is'].”
Some say that CQD was changed to SOS around 1908-1909, but the Titanic was the first one to use SOS interspersed with CQD in a major maritime tragedy
Yeah, it was always fun sending CQ and waiting to see whether anyone would respond. I loved to work 30 meters; when conditions were good I could sometimes talk with someone as far away as New Zealand.
Since we are now into “war stories,” here’s one.
Amateur radio operators know how unpredictable HF can be, with ionospheric refraction, solar cycle effects, skip zones, etc.
Flying into Rhein-Main air base, Germany, in the late 50s in a gooney bird (C-47), we lost our VHF/UHF radios. Tried to contact Rhein-Main on HF (not more than 50 miles away), no luck, but guess what: Andrews “Airways” (about 4,000 ? miles away) got me “loud and clear,” relayed back to Rhein-Main and all ended well.
HF is “funny.”
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