1943. Stories from the Eastern Front

The Stories of Ordinary Soldiers

"Soviet soldiers advance through the streets of Jelgava; summer 1944" (source)

Below are some of the stories told by Bill Downs during his time reporting from Moscow in 1943. They include accounts from Stalingrad and Kharkiv. Parentheses indicate text that did not pass Soviet censors for military security or propaganda reasons.

(For more, see the complete 1943 Moscow reports. The New York Times also published a story in 1945 entitled "First-Hand Report on the German Soldier.")

Red Army and Nazi Soldiers Trade Insults

Bill Downs

CBS Moscow

February 9, 1943

The war that is being fought in Russia tonight (while being the most terrible and devastating conflict in military history) is in many ways like any other war. The viewpoint of the ordinary Russian private towards the fighting around Kursk and Kharkov and Rostov tonight is much the same as any American soldier.

The soldiers with whom I spoke in Stalingrad (last Sunday had the soldier's avid interest in food, in women, in getting leave, and seeing his side win, as any buck private in the rear ranks of the United States Army. The Russian private doesn't) don't like the idea of dying any more or less than any other soldier—and consequently they don't talk too much about it. (You talk to them about their battle experiences, and like all good soldiers they don't say a word about their own exploits.) To hear them talk, the tremendous Battle of Stalingrad is merely a collection of little incidents which finally ended up in a German defeat.

For example, one of the crack non-commissioned officers in a Red Army guard's regiment (a tough youngster whose friends said he had killed at least three Nazis in a hand-to-hand encounter,) would only talk about the way German soldiers admired the Red Army's fur caps. (This soldier was fighting in a factory building in the Red October plant that formed the Russian line in this part of Stalingrad. The German trenches were in front of another building only twelve yards away. I stood atop these German positions and you could throw a stone between two lines.)

At one point in the Stalingrad line, the German and Russian soldiers used to amuse themselves by shouting insults back and forth to each other. My Russian friend said that one German soldier shouted across the lines and offered to exchange his automatic rifle for a Red Army fur cap.

I asked the Russian soldier what his answer was.

"Oh, I answered all right," he said. "I told them to bring along a tank and I would bargain with them."

Then there was the time near the end of the Stalingrad fighting when the Germans were very, very hungry. Only a month before, the Germans had been razzing the Soviet forces, saying the end of the Red Army was in sight. Now the situation was reversed and the Russian soldiers devised their own fun. To show starving German troops how well Soviet kitchens were working, they put whole loaves of bread on the ends of their bayonets and stuck them above the trenches. The German answer was to riddle those loaves of bread with Tommy gun bullets.

These are the stories which will mark themselves in the minds of ordinary soldiers.

Cartoon Hitler

Bill Downs

CBS Moscow

April 10, 1943

Certain Red Army units have started their own spring offensives in a war of nerves that has had some pretty ridiculous results.

Here's what happened a few weeks ago on one sector of the front. The Red Army unit dug into this sector has been fighting the Germans for a long time. They were fairly familiar with a crack German regiment opposite them. It was a regiment of the Waffen-SS, Hitler's personal troops.

One night a group of soldiers went out on a strategic clearing that formed the no-man's-land between the two trenches and put up two poles. Between these two poles they stretched a canvas cartoon of Hitler—it was not complimentary to the Führer. Under the cartoon was written in German in large letters: "Shoot at me." Then the unit waited until morning to see what would happen.

When the sun rose, they could hear loud discussions in the German trenches. Staff officers came to the trenches and had a look at the insulting cartoon through binoculars. But the Germans refused to obey the instructions to shoot at their own leader.

Before noon they opened an offensive to capture the cartoon. A detail of German soldiers was ordered to take the canvas down. This detail almost reached the cartoon of Hitler before they were wiped out. Another detail was sent. It too failed to get the cartoon. And then in the evening, German artillery all along the sector opened up on the Führer. All the German guns were concentrated on the spot. It took a fifteen minute concentrated barrage before the cartoon was blasted out of existence—which is one way of killing a dictator.

Right now the grandstand military experts are having a field day. (You can get a military plan of attack from a score of armchair generals at the drop of a hat.)

(There are plans for a Red Army offensive—there are people who say Hitler is going to do this and that—there are others who say Hitler is going to start mass bombing again.)

And any time you want, you can find Russians who will argue that there is not going to be a second front this year and why. Other Russians will argue just as violently that there will be a second front. It's a favorite way of passing the time here.

But the feeling of the ordinary soldier is best expressed in a story from the front that I heard the other day. The Red Army men are getting a lot of American canned meat, and they like it. However, they don't call it canned meat. When they get hungry, they say: "Come on Ivan, let's open up a can of that Second Front."

Celebrating with Soviet Soldiers

Bill Downs

CBS Moscow

Early January 1943

...Most Soviet factories I have seen seem to have the same high walls. On a plane, I met a Russian-speaking man from a tourist agency and asked him, "How do you tell prison from factory in this country?"

He replied in broken English, "People inside factories are willing to fight for them. Ask the Germans in Stalingrad."...

We landed at Kuybyshev in a blizzard, where I was forced to get along on my own speaking Russian. I walked into the airport waiting room and saw Russian soldiers sitting around while a chess game progressed in one corner. Someone brought me a cup of tea—I had no Russian money and don't know who paid for it. The atmosphere about this place had the same sort of isolated comradeship you find in old-time village grocery stores. All it needed was a cracker-barrel and a potbellied stove.

Finally an army captain approached me without smiling and asked, "Sprechen sie Deutsch?" I didn't know whether to say yes or no, since I am able to speak a sort of pidgin German from my college days. I looked around the room, which had sort of frozen up when it heard German, and I was the only foreigner around. I decided to chance it and replied, "Ja, aber ich bin Amerikanischer korrespondent."

The room roared in laughter and I was immediately offered a flask. I was expecting vodka, which I already knew all about. I prepared to show what healthy drinking men Americans were and took a big mouthful. As a result I about blew the top of my head off; the captain had given me a flask full of raw 190 proof alcohol that tasted as if it had recently come from an automobile radiator. Again the room roared in laughter. Soldiers came up and we shook hands.

With the aid of my Russian dictionary, I discovered that most of the men just came from Stalingrad. They said that American and British tanks fought in that battle. I asked the Russians how they liked the American tanks, a question answered amid exclamations of "khorosho, khorosho" which, according to my dictionary, means damn good. Then the Russian captain took the dictionary from me and began looking up words after repeating a sentence which I couldn't understand. The first word he pointed out translated to "we." Turning pages, the captain pointed out another word: "want." Ruffling the pages some more, he pointed out another Russian word which meant "more." I grinned and told him I understood the rest. The Russians in the room smiled very seriously and said "da, da, da, khorosho."

For sleeping arrangements I volunteered to sleep on the floor like everyone else because the blizzard made it impossible to get into the city. However, the captain insisted I go to the airport hotel, which is kept mostly by Soviet airmen. Offering me the best bed in the house, I found it a bare room with six other beds jammed in.

The captain stuck around, much to my relief, and took me to a dance with young Red Army pilots. The pilots were dancing with girls ranging from young to old to a cracked recording of Tommy Dorsey's "Marie." It is evidently the favorite of this post, because it was played over and over. I picked out the best looking gal in the house and found out she danced better than most English girls in London as well as the average girl in the United States. I paid her a lot of compliments which she didn't understand, but I didn't have the chance to get anywhere because a large, tough boy, wearing the medal of the Hero of the Soviet Union which he got at Kalinin, took her back like the Red Army takes inhabited points.

I was kept awake in my crowded hotel room, partly by snores and partly by the same feeling I had been here before. These people were trotting out their best for me, exceedingly interested in news of the outside world.

I continued on to Gorky in an extremely cold Russian troop carrier—another Douglas—which was jammed with officers going to Moscow and various types of cargo, including huge bales of wool for uniforms. This Douglas had about twenty patches on her. The plane had seen action, but the pilot wouldn't tell me where.

In Gorky I added another word to my vocabulary. I billeted with the Douglas crew, all youngsters. We got into a dictionary conversation about American planes; the first mention of them drew exclamations of "ochen khorosho." It was funny to hear airmen talk in authoritative Russian tones about Lockheed Electras, Airacobras, and Bostons, and discuss the merits and faults of tricycle landing gear. They knew more about them than I did.

I got my first glimpse of what it means when people in Russia say "everything for the Red Army." These airmen had clean, neat rooms and soft beds, and they ate in a separate room where such rarities as butter were served. They looked healthy and tough, about the same as our own airmen. Their equipment was tremendous, with good heavy clothing and fancy gloves. They wore great oversized boots lined both inside and out with fur. One rear gunner was very proud of his because they were made from the hide of a dog he used to own.

The Capture of Field Marshal Paulus

Bill Downs

CBS Moscow

February 9, 1943

...(The common characteristic of these troops is the spirit of youth which runs from the highest general to the lowest private.)

Typical of the daring, devil-may-care spirit of these new Red Army forces was the almost comic capture of Field Marshal Von Paulus. Von Paulus, the only German field marshal ever to be made a prisoner of war, was taken after initial negotiations conducted by a 21-year-old Red Army first lieutenant. He is Fyodor Yelchenko, a Ukrainian kid with a grin a mile wide.

I talked with Senior Lieutenant Yelchenko in the narrow, bare room where Von Paulus had his headquarters in the basement of Stalingrad's biggest department store. Only the basement of this big five-story building was intact.

Yelchenko was leading a group of fifteen Tommy gunners (which were part of a force which surrounded) against the German Sixth Army headquarters. The lieutenant (who grinned all the time as he told the story) said that, after the initial artillery barrage on the headquarters, a delegation of German soldiers carrying a white flag approached his group.

"They said they wanted to talk with a Russian big chief who would talk with me," the lieutenant said. "I was the officer in command so I went along. Since Germans are still Germans, I took along two men. The guards led me (through the minefields protecting the building, and I went) into the basement. There, Major General Roske and Lieutenant General Schmidt stood at the table. Von Paulus was lying on a narrow iron bed in another room. They asked what were our terms, and told them they were complete surrender as outlined by our command several days earlier. Schmidt kept running back and forth to Von Paulus as we talked.

"Then they asked if I wanted to see Field Marshal Paulus and ask him any questions. We had settled all the questions, but I had a look at him anyway. He was lying on his bed looking very sad, and he needed a shave, but he wore all his decorations."

Fyodor Yelchenko, a farm boy from Ukraine, is typical of the "Soviet men of decision" who are pledged to clear Russia of fascists.

Sergeant M. Katasonov, a front-line scout in the 372nd Rifle Division, in 1944 (source)

Red Army Scouts

Bill Downs

CBS Moscow

April 28, 1943

The military spring training on the Russian front seems to be just about over. Nothing of importance happened along the 1,200 mile front last night. There was the usual artillery barrages—Soviet aircraft made their regular trips to railroad junctions and supply points behind the German lines; snipers on a half-dozen sectors put a few more notches in their guns; and scouts succeeded in slipping through the Axis lines on their hell-raising missions in the enemy rear.

During this spring lull we've heard a lot about the achievements of these Russian scouts. They are the modern Russian counterparts of "Buffalo Bill" Cody and Kit Carson and others who formed the vanguard in America's winning of the west. Except the work of a modern scout in the Soviet Union is a lot more complicated.

For example, take the Red Army scout Yakov Chekarkov, a 30-year-old bachelor who used to be a storekeeper at a tractor station in one of Russia's big collective farms.

Chekarkov knows his stuff. His job is to creep as close to the German lines as possible and find out just what the Nazis are up to. There are thousands of these men who creep out every day and night to gather information. Sometimes they go deep behind the German lines, and sometimes groups of them do commando raids.

Chekarkov has introduced his own methods. For example, he watched the Germans lay a minefield on the approaches to a forest. At night he took his own mines and mined the passages which the Germans left through the field. You can imagine what happened when the Germans attacked. This scout also has become an expert on German uniforms. He spotted tank reinforcements in one sector because he noticed the pink tabs on the collars of some of the men who were designated tank troops.

This winter he sat for days in the frozen carcass of a dead horse just in front of the German lines. Another time he found a hollow stump almost inside the German fortifications. He established his position by burrowing under the snow and cutting his way inside the stump from the bottom.

It takes a lot of courage to be a scout in Russia, and Yakov Chekarkov is a brave man. However, he has one great fear: catching cold. He was scared to death by a cold last fall. He was behind the German lines when he sneezed. He had to run for his life. Now he never does any scouting without a heavy wool shawl wrapped around him like an old woman.

Ukrainian Resistance Terrorizes Nazis

Bill Downs

CBS Moscow

June 17, 1943

Today we have the story of a Ukrainian Robin Hood who is now giving the occupation authorities more trouble than any guerrilla leader that has yet appeared in Russia.

He is called "Bogdan the Elusive"—and he heads one of the biggest partisan armies in Russia. His record of train wreckings, executions of German burgomeisters, and picking off of isolated Romanian and German garrisons is still being added up. But his reputation is known throughout the Ukraine—more by the Germans than by the Russians.

German punitive expeditions have tried time and again to capture him. But when Bogdan is reported in one town, the police troops will arrive only to find the German mayor of the town hanging from the nearest beach tree, and a note saying "I'll be back" signed "Bogdan."

Early this year his partisan band even made an attack on the outskirts of Kiev in western Ukraine. It was just a sortie, and nothing came of it except a lot of Germans were killed. But his spies infiltrated into the city and brought back reports of how the Germans were running gambling halls and vice establishments all over Russia's most beautiful city—and it made Bogdan mad. So he decided to conduct the sortie. Life in Kiev was a lot more sober for several weeks afterward.

(German occupation authorities who hear that "Bogdan the Elusive" is operating in their district have sent emissaries out looking for him to offer safe passage through their provinces—if only he won't make trouble in their district.)

Once, the Germans thought they had Bogdan. They carefully threw a cordon around his camp. When they finally closed in on the camp they found warm campfires, empty tin cans—and a goat. Around the neck of the goat was a note saying "A hurried good-bye—but I'll be back." Since that time several other goats have been found wandering the Ukrainian steppe-land—all with notes from Bogdan around their necks. Now the goat has become a sign of bad luck among the Germans—they hate the very sight of the animal.

Schoolchildren Ask About a Second Front

Bill Downs

CBS Moscow

February 20, 1943

One of the biggest surprises I've had here in Russia was my experience yesterday with a history class of 14-year-old boys at a Moscow public school.

I was having a look around the school and wandered into the classroom (in time to hear a lecture on Iran. It was the sort of class discussion that you could get in any school in America.)

The teacher asked me if I wanted to ask the boys any questions. Well, I knew that sooner or later these kids would want to know when America was going to start a second front. Russian people always do. (If I've been asked that question once over here, I've been asked it a million times.)

So I decided I would beat them to the draw. I asked the class just how and where they thought a second front should be started.

Those kids (put up their hands to express their own pet theories) had as many theories (—well you might have thought it) as the combined general staff (meeting) in Washington. The reaction was terrific.

One black-haired youngster (who seemed to be a spokesman for the majority opinion) walked to the map on the wall and outlined a campaign through Italy. (It involved taking Sicily and Sardinia followed by a combined assault on Italy itself from these islands and from the northern coast of Africa.)

However, there was opposition to this plan. A tow-headed kid named Tolya took over the discussion. His argument that there was nothing particularly wrong with the Italian invasion plan except the supply question. He advocated the classic move through France. (The second front supply question would be alleviated through England and direct supply communications with America.)

(There was considerable agreement to this reasoning).

And then up stepped the boy who obviously was a grade-A student. He wore thick glasses and his ears that morning seemed to have escaped his mother's inspection. But he was a leading figure in that history class. You could tell by the way the other boys shut up when he talked. His named was Felix.

Felix was all for an advance through the Balkans. He explained that (the position of Turkey had been stabilized and said that) the Balkans were definitely Hitler's back door. There would be, according to Felix, much help from the Balkan population. And after this landing, the invading troops could join up with the Red Army and clean up Europe from the East.

After that, I thought the discussion was ended and that I was going to escape without getting asked any questions. However it came anyway. "When is the second front going to start?"

I told the history class I didn't know—but I promised I would pass along their second front strategy to the United States. So there you are—the report on military tactics from the seventh grade history class of Public School Number 175 in Moscow.

Alyosha and His Pig

Bill Downs

CBS Moscow

April 1, 1943 (censored report)

It seems that at one of the liberated villages west of Rzhev there was a little boy named Alyosha...

Alyosha was raising a pet pig named Khrushka when the Germans came to the village. He loved his friend Khrushka and was very much afraid when the Germans started collecting all of the other pigs and cows and chickens in the village to send back to Germany.

When the Germans came to his house to get Khrushka, the boy hid the pig behind the big peasant's stove (that was heating the small house. He told the Germans that Khrushka had run away.)

The Germans finally went away. When Alyosha went to get Khrushka, he found that the pig was dead. You see, peasant stoves are very hot during the Russian winter and Khrushka had suffocated.

Alyosha was very sad and wanted to give his friend Khrushka a fitting burial. (However, he was afraid that the Germans might kill him if they found him with the body of Khrushka after he had lied to them.) So Alyosha got another boy in his village and dug a grave by the side of the road. At night, they carried Khrushka to the grave and carefully buried the pig.

However, both of the boys knew that Germans are very careful about freshly turned earth—they are always looking for hidden parachutes or arms or valuables when they see that something has been buried.

So Alyosha made a rough cross and got a German helmet. On the cross he carefully copied the first German name he could remember. It was Schmidt—or Schwartz—something like that. Alyosha put the cross at the head of his pet pig's grave and placed the German helmet on top of the cross. It looked just like a score of other German roadside graves that dotted the area.

Then the German headquarters moved to the village. The German general stopped to examine the grave and gasped when he read the name. It was the same name as the general's son, who was missing on the front.

The general immediately called his officers and demanded that his son be buried with more honor. He ordered the body be disinterred.

This story ends with the sweating officers digging out the grave, with the German general standing bravely aside, waiting to view the last remains of his son. No one stayed long enough to see what happened when the general discovered that his "son" was the prize pig Khrushka.

Nazi Booby Traps

Bill Downs

CBS Moscow

April 2, 1943

Right now, the big events in Russia are occurring behind, and not at, the front.

The Red Army the other day turned up something new in booby traps. They entered one recaptured village and found that every house had been mined. Sappers cleared all of the houses but one. (The local inhabitants told the Russian soldiers that, before they left, the Germans spent a lot of time in this particular house.)

(The area was cleared and) a Red Army lieutenant (started looking for the mine. He) sounded the walls, the floor, and even the ceiling of the house. Still he could not locate the hidden explosives.

He was just about to give up when he heard cats meowing in the stove. He opened up the door and one cat jumped out. The second cat just started to leave the stove when the lieutenant pushed it back inside.

On investigation, he found that the second cat had a string attached to one of its rear paws. The other end of the string was attached to the fuse in 25 pounds of high explosive.

It was another of those cute Nazi ideas that didn't work.

A German soldier rides a motorcycle in the snow on the Eastern Front, wearing a gas mask to protect from the extreme cold. February 18, 1942 (source)

Scorched Earth Retreat

Bill Downs

CBS Moscow

March 28, 1943

The Red Army railroad battalion has achieved something of an engineering miracle. In a little over two weeks they have succeeded in opening the vital Moscow-to-Velikiye Luki trunk railroad. The first military train moved over this railroad yesterday.

The repair of this stretch of 280 miles of railroad was one of the most difficult assignments any engineering corps has ever had. The railroad has been the center of a battlefield since the early days of the German invasion. It has been bombed by both German and Russian planes. Soviet partisans have blown it sky high at a hundred places during the period when the Germans held the line.

And when the Germans were chased from the area, they did one of their most complete jobs of earth scorching along the Velikiye Luki-Moscow railroad. Every bridge was blown up. Switches and sidings were destroyed. In some places the Germans even burned the forest around some vital bridges so that the Russian engineers would have no material with which to reconstruct them.

But even before Velikiye Luki was taken, the Red Army railroad corps went to work. They found that, in addition to widening the gauge of the railroad tracks, they would have to virtually reset every rail.

You see, the Germans not only destroyed all switches, they also sent men along the lines with heavy sledgehammers who every fifty feet or so just knocked a piece of rail out. I have seen this type of destruction in every place where the German Army passed.

Consequently, the railroad corps had to saw and chisel these broken rail ends so that they could be joined together. At first, the repair gangs could only repair fifty of these rails a day. Before the job was finished, they were repairing 250 a day. Each gang—and there were four big corps working on the railroad—succeeded in relaying something like four to six miles of railroad a day. When a job was particularly difficult, the civilians in the neighborhood were called in to give a hand.

You probably couldn't run an American streamliner at a speed of a hundred miles an hour over the reconstructed Velikiye Luki-Moscow railroad line today. But you can job along at twenty to thirty miles an hour with heavy freight and munitions and arms. And that's what's happening today as the Soviet command reinforces its Velikiye Luki garrison—the garrison which is closer to the borders of the Soviet Union than any other group pushed to the east by the Nazi invaders.

The Czechoslovak Last Stand

Bill Downs

CBS Moscow

April 8, 1943

The first independently led and organized units of the Czechoslovak army to fight the Germans in this war went into action the other day somewhere on the Russian front.

The men of this army, refugees from their homeland, lived up to every standard of courage and honor that has made Czechoslovakia one of the proudest of Europe's small nations. The story is worth reporting.

The Czech army in Russia is led by Colonel Ludvik Svoboda, a 48-year-old veteran who fought against the Germans in Russia during the last war. (He has been fretting for action since the Germans marched into his country. Meanwhile, as his refugee army was trained, they spent part of their time helping Russian peasant harvest their crops. When the Czech soldiers left the district for the front, the Russian villagers gave them a banner all their own.)

At the first of April, the Czechs were thrown into the front line—probably somewhere on the Donets front. Their sector was of big importance. The Germans launched a counterattack. It was a big show, and sixty tanks appeared on one narrow sector opposite the dug-in Czech troops.

A young lieutenant named Yarosh was in command on this sector. His field telephone rang, and Colonel Svoboda said the unit would have to hold out alone. There were no reinforcements to help the lieutenant stop the sixty tanks. The colonel's orders were "It is impossible to retreat."

The unit was equipped with the new Russian antitank rifles. They knocked out tank after tank, but they still came on. (Some of the tanks were equipped with flamethrowers, and many of the Czechs were burned to death. However, the fight continued all day and into the night. About twenty tanks broke through to a village, where they were engaged by artillery.)

Approaching the Czechs behind the tanks came the German infantry with Tommy guns. While the Czech machine gunners kept the German infantry on the ground, other Czech soldiers continued the battle against the tanks with incendiary bottles.

But during the battle Lieutenant Yarosh was killed. He was crushed under a German tank thinking he might be able to stop it at the last moment.

That's the first story of the Czech army in Russia. The official communiqué commemorating the event read: "The men of the Czech unit (during the whole day and night) self-sacrificingly waged fights against the enemy and repelled all attacks. As a result of this fighting, nineteen German tanks were disabled and burned, and four hundred German Tommy gunners annihilated."

The Wehrmacht's Lice Epidemic

Bill Downs

CBS Moscow

June 27, 1943

The German troops in Russia form the lousiest army in the world. I mean that literally. The one thing about them that really shocks the Russian fighting man is the number of lice on the average captured German soldier.

This condition was particularly bad during the Russian winter. One of the big differences between the Red Army and Hitler's Wehrmacht is that the Russian soldier knows how to keep clean and still protect himself from the cold. The ordinary German soldier is so busy keeping from (getting killed here in the Soviet Union) dying that he doesn't bother too much about personal hygiene. Consequently, he gets lousy.

(The Red Army man, on the other hand, gets up in the morning and washes with snow, even at forty below zero. Believe me, I've seen it at Stalingrad and Rzhev.)

The German command is trying to combat the louse that infests the invincible, Aryan Nazi soldier. They are using all kinds of propaganda. Soap is scarce in the German army, and propaganda has not been a very good substitute. (Bulletins that I have seen in captured German dugouts warn against the louse as a major enemy. It seems that the lice in Russia are definitely non-Aryan.)

One German headquarters tried to raise hygiene standards by ridiculing particularly lousy units. This headquarters issued a special cross to an unclean squadron. It was a big wooden affair in the shape of an iron cross, but instead of a swastika in the center there is a very life-like louse with legs akimbo. This cross was found over one German dugout on the Moscow front. (The Russian command had some trouble getting a Red Army man to inspect this dugout.)

But seriously, the (Russian) louse has turned out to be a very valuable ally to the United Nations. The German troops have run on to typhus in this country, and it has been a problem for the Nazi medical corps. And a soldier can't keep his mind on fighting if he's busy scratching.

Babi Yar

Bill Downs

Newsweek (full article)

December 6, 1943

...Thousands of men, women, and children marched out to Lukyanovka, thinking they probably would be evacuated. Instead, Nazi SS troops led them to Babii Yar.

At the wide shallow ravine, their valuables and part of their clothing were removed and heaped into a big pile. Then groups of these people were led into a neighboring deep ravine where they were machine-gunned. When bodies covered the ground in more or less of a layer, SS men scraped sand down from the ravine walls to cover them. Then the shooting would continue. The Nazis, we were told, worked three days doing the job. However, even more incredible were the actions taken by the Nazis between Aug. 19 and Sept. 28 last. Vilkis said that in the middle of August the SS mobilized a party of 100 Russian war prisoners, who were taken to the ravines.

On Aug. 19 these men were ordered to disinter all the bodies in the ravine. The Germans meanwhile took a party to a nearby Jewish cemetery whence marble headstones were brought to Babii Yar to form the foundation of a huge funeral pyre. Atop the stones were piled a layer of wood and then a layer of bodies, and so on until the pyre was as high as a two-story house.

Vilkis said that approximately 1,500 bodies were burned in each operation of the furnace and each funeral pyre took two nights and one day to burn completely.

The cremation went on for 40 days, and then the prisoners, who by this time included 341 men, were ordered to build another furnace. Since this was the last furnace and there were no more bodies, the prisoners decided it was for them. They made a break but only a dozen out of more than 200 survived the bullets of the Nazi Tommy guns.

1953. "Korea Lesson: How Not to Cover a War" by George Herman

CBS Radio Correspondent George Herman on Covering the Korean War

"Tokyo, December, 1952: CBS commentator Edward R. Murrow, center, and Washington bureau chief Bill Downs, right, are welcomed to Tokyo by Japan-Korea bureau manager George Herman" (source)

Article by George Herman in Broadcasting magazine, December 7, 1953, pp. 97-100 [PDF]:

Considering the primitiveness of the equipment they had to work with, it is a wonder that radio correspondents who reported the Korean War ever got a broadcast out of that beleaguered country. The author of this article, now CBS Radio's White House correspondent, believes the planning of radio coverage of future combat should begin now. If he sounds somewhat embittered, it is because, as chief of his network's Far Eastern bureau, he learned at first hand the . . .

Korean Lesson: How Not to Cover a War

By GEORGE HERMAN

Now that the Korean War is over, those of us who covered it for radio can look back on our experiences with more objectivity than was possible while we were struggling with the absurdly inadequate radio facilities made available to us. We may be able to manage a weak little laugh at the hay-wire contraptions we had to lash up ourselves because the military flatly refused until the very end to make anything available to us except wire. And we can certainly offer some serious thoughts about what must be done in the event of any future wars or police actions which may, unhappily, erupt elsewhere.

It is my understanding that in World War II in the European Theatre of Operations radio news broadcasts originated largely in the mobile studios and vans of commercial radio outfits such as Press Wireless, RCA, and MacKay Radio. And in the Pacific, I am told, United States military facilities with studios and technicians were made available from island to island.

For some incomprehensible reason, the military ruled flatly against making any such facilities available in the Korean War. Commercial companies, after an abortive attempt by RCA, were deterred from installing facilities by the ephemeral nature of the war, which seemed continually about to end, either in victory, defeat, or Panmunjom.

What is incomprehensible to me is why, during the three years this Korean conflict dragged on, with news of incomparable interest and importance to every American, one of two things was not done. Either the American radio networks should have pointed out forcefully to the military its failure to accord fair and equal consideration to the needs of the radio medium, or the radio companies themselves should have supplied the technicians and equipment needed.

The Army and Air Force gave a good deal of thought to getting out the news, but somehow they always thought in terms of teletypes and never in terms of the faster on-the-spot listener coverage of radio. And the radio networks, content to leave the problem to their newsmen, non-technicians though they were, sent out only the equipment those newsmen requested and never brought the minds of their high-paid technical departments to bear on the problem. Consider our experiences:

When the North Koreans opened their unprovoked attack on South Korea the city of Seoul boasted one of the four really good commercial transmitters in the Far East capable of reaching San Francisco. (The others: Tokyo, Hongkong, Jakarta.) Which was fine for radio newsmen except that we didn't hold Seoul long enough to get much use out of it. And the only way a voice signal could be gotten out of the rest of South Korea was by means of an ancient and rickety telephone system built by the Japanese and maintained in rather desultory fashion by Korean technicians.

During the days of the Pusan Perimeter a sweating, steaming radio correspondent had to start out with an army field phone—and you know what kind of quality they have even for radiomen smart enough to keep a full pocket full of fresh batteries for them. This military phone connected by frayed string into the ancient Mukden cable which snakes its way under the water separating Japan from Korea plugs into the improbable long-distance telephone system of Japan. That brought a precious fraction of the sound into Tokyo where perspiring Japanese technicians under the command of a U.S. Army corporal fed it into the overseas shortwave hookup, and thus eventually to San Francisco.

It's easy to see from all this why such husky-voiced specimens as Edward R. Murrow, Bill Downs, Bill Dunn, and the like huffed and puffed and failed to get through with regularity. It's hard to know how many great classics of radio war reporting we missed during the darkest and most dramatic stages of the Pusan period. It's even more painful to think how needless all this waste of talent was.

We know now that a simple piece of equipment, costing less than $50 at the most, could have reversed the odds and jammed a signal through nine out of ten times. Just a line amplifier and a cheap microphone of any variety, plus a couple of leads with alligator clips to clip onto the phone wire where it comes out of the Army field phone. Any duffer of a hi-fi enthusiast could figure it out. And the first hi-fi fan to arrive in Korea immediately did so.

For two years almost every single broadcast which came out of Korea was punched out by a battered elderly CBS Magnecorder pressed into overtime service as a remote amplifier between recording jobs. From Taegu, from Suwon, from Seoul, all broadcasts after January 1951 until quite recently were made over this single piece of gear or over duplicate models later imported by the Army.

Only for one brief period, from Oct. 12, 1950, to Jan. 2, 1951, did we use anything which might be termed studio facilities. And I hesitate even to describe them. In the center of Seoul during this period was a small studio carefully hung with splendid oriental rugs used as sound proofing. From its control room a set of Army phone wires ran across the street to a tall building atop which a U.S. Army FM radio setup kept us in contact with the short wave receiving station 12 miles north of Seoul and the transmitter in a town called Poo'pyong, 16 miles west of Seoul.

The FM link was unsteady to say the least and the first hour before the broadcast was always entirely occupied by a Korean technician shouting despairingly into the phone "Hello Poo'pyong, Hello Poo'pyong," a sound I still occasionally hear in bad dreams after an overdose of apple strudel.

With Jeep and Carbine

For any really important or lengthy broadcast I usually jeeped out to Poo'pyong, with a GI driver who insisted on arming me with a carbine because of the prevalence of snipers, and did the broadcast from there. There was no studio, merely the Magnecorder set up on an overturned oil drum in the middle of a vast barn-like building. But the equipment, a mixture of RCA and Russian gear abandoned by the North Koreans, worked fine until the Chinese returned for it on Jan. 3, 1951. So, back again to the old Taegu-Pusan telephone line.

But by now we had the Magnecorder system to work with. The Army built me a small phone-booth kind of cubby in a corner of the correspondents' billets. The Army Signal Corps ran in a set of wires, handed over the bare ends and said, "Go ahead, broadcast." Although we held endless consultations with various colonels and even a brigadier general or two in the Signal Corps, the Army never furnished us with any technical equipment at all until the outbreak of the peace talks.

For future reference it should probably be noted that the Army also had strong objections to our doing broadcasts from any place but the correspondents' billets, mostly for censorship reasons. But in time we managed to argue our way out of that, and during the final stages of the retaking of Seoul, we moved our Magnecorder up to a wrecked airplane which served as a temporary correspondents' hangout at Suwon airfield. Turning up the gain jammed a usable signal down the miles of battered cable to Taegu, Pusan and across the straits to Tokyo. It also occasionally jammed the phone communications of irate generals who picked up our signal by induction along their regular command lines. But by keeping our circuit time to the barest minimum, we managed to avoid any restrictive action.

In due time, of course, the Eighth Army retook Seoul and we moved the CBS Radio Magnecorder into a special room in the correspondents' billets there, a room sound-proofed with slabs of compressed seaweed of the most unappetizing appearance. Again the Army ran in some wires, handed us the ends and said "Here you are; go ahead." And in the very next room they set up bank after bank of complex and expensive teletype installations for the newsmen who worked in the printed medium.

Again we queried the Signal Corps on the availability of the kind of radio gear used in the second World War. They said there wasn't any requisition number for any gear, that it would have to be sent from Washington, that it couldn't be authorized, and so forth far into the war. Also that it wasn't their duty to provide us with radio gear, even if they did provide all gear for teletype copy.

Eventually the peace talks developed and then everybody said it would all be over very soon anyhow, so why worry. That was, let me think, July 1951! The Public Information Office (not the Signal Corps) did, however, make available a series of several Magnecorders and a bright young radio hobbyist named Hugo Victor. Single-handed, and with his own money very largely, this enthusiast rescued American radio from its own inertia and that of the Pentagon. He built a studio, soundproofed it with Army blankets, and constructed an ingenious control room out of odds and ends which he scrounged or we bought for him in Tokyo.

But all this came about only after a bitter battle between radio and the press services which is better forgotten about. The Public Information Office of the UN Command under Brig. Gen. William P. Nuckols for a time sided with the press services, but eventually put in the lines which enabled us to do direct broadcasts from the news train at Munsan.

Which was all right until the news broke out at the other extreme of the stretch of Korean peninsula under our control. You may remember the riots at Koje-do when Communist-minded Chinese and Korean prisoners kicked up such a fuss? Quite a news story. And quite a long way to carry the CBS Magnecorder by train, plane and boat.

From Koje Island to the Korean mainland we had only one line of communications, the feeblest, leakiest phone line I have ever used. But once again the simple expedient of high-gain line amplification solved the problem. It even helped soothe relations between press associations and radio. We set up the Magnecorder in the press tent by day and briefed the newspapermen on microphone technique, and they used it to read their copy to Tokyo. It worked fine, but really there ought to be some kind of field amplifier lighter than the maggie. It was a lot of weight to carry back and forth from the press tent to the telephone shack where the commanding officer of signals had allowed us the use of his bedroom as a comparatively soundproof studio.

By this time everybody in the Far East Command had begun to catch on to the idea of line amplifiers. The lone CBS Magnecorder was joined in Korea by a brother job from NBC as the peace talks moved to a climax. Three more were provided by the Public Information Office and the Psychological Warfare division. Everybody in radio news in Korea had acquired packrat habits, and rolls of wire and spare connectors and odds and ends of equipment began to show up. The only thing we never seemed to have enough of was Cannon XL connectors.

By now you must have heard how we made certain connections at Big & Little Switch, the exchanges of prisoners. Enough mention has been made of how we stuck bare ends of mike wire into Cannon female sockets and braced them in with whittled matchsticks. But even as veteran an ad-libber as Ted Church, director of CBS Radio News, was shocked when he actually saw the broken match-ends sticking out of the sockets in the side of the amplifier.

More Makeshift Measures

By then we were using a Gates three-pot job provided by Psychological Warfare, and it took a lot of matches to set it up every day. Ted paled visibly when he first saw the contraption, placed precariously on an Army table in the middle of the prisoner reception center. We didn't tell him about the days during Little Switch, the preliminary exchange of sick and wounded prisoners, when one of us had held a pair of stiff Signal Corps wires tightly twisted together in his hand during an entire 20 minute broadcast, somewhat like the Dutch boy with his finger in the dike. We didn't get to solder that connection until late that evening. And since the broadcasters were also technicians, there's no telling what we said, it was a triumph just to hear that faint faraway voice in the earphones saying "We hear you loud and clear,—where've ya been—ya go ahead in 20 seconds from woof!"

Better Help for Radio

The point, I think, is this. If the American military is going to have its action in the field covered, it's got to stop thinking in terms of press services alone. The frustrating favoritism accorded to press service reporters is known to every radio newsman. That it should apply to facilities as well is intolerable.

Why there should be an order number and a supply item of teletypes for press men and not for an amplifier for radio men is absolutely beyond me. The cost of the radio gear is fractional.

There is no reason why the Army should make teletypes and teletype operators available to press men and flatly refuse to make radio gear and even one single technician regularly available to radiomen. And the radio industry had damn well better realize this and get on the ball before the next overseas fracas. Both the policy and technical departments of our industry can make better suggestions than this correspondent. Leave them do so PDQ or the next fight will again see the finest, high-priced radio news talent again shouting into unresponsive field phones in a "press" tent filled with other correspondents grinding out copy to go slowly but surely by teletype.

1933. Hitler Warns the World, Says His Regime Will Last

Nazis Compare Their Rule to Roosevelt's

An anti-American Nazi propaganda cartoon attacking President Roosevelt as he ran for a fourth presidential term in 1944. The captions read: "An ass remains an ass" and "Please tread on me for four more years, dictator!" (source)

This article is part of a series of posts on how The New York Times covered the rise and fall of fascism in Europe.

From The New York Times, May 8, 1933:

GERMANS BELITTLE OUR 'DICTATORSHIP'

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Enjoy Comparing Nazis' Rule With Roosevelt's, Wholly to American Disadvantage

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LASTING REGIME IS SEEN

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Hitler Warns World Not to Hope There is Another Germany Concealed Behind His Own

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By FREDERICK T. BIRCHALL

BERLIN, May 7 — The latest German indoor sport in the new era of popular enlightenment presided over by Dr. Paul Joseph Goebbels is to compare the Hitler dictatorship with the powers recently granted to President Roosevelt in the United States, entirely, of course, to the American disadvantage.

Americans here get a great kick out of the comparison. It starts with the premise that both governments are democratic in that the people elected both, and that being granted the rest is easy for the German proponents.

Any reference to the complete suppression of the opposition press and the stifling of opposition opinion is met with the retort that this is not democratic America but democratic Germany, where conditions are different.

But any mention of the array of barbed-wire concentration camps guarded by rifle-bearing storm troopers with orders to "shoot to kill" any of the politically differing prisoners within who try to escape is treated as a foul blow below the belt, so the argument is naturally somewhat one-sided. For that reason only the Germans initiate it.

See Régime Likely to Last

This German democratic government, created by bludgeoning democracy until it abdicated for four years, leaving all powers in the hands of the bludgeoners is now accepted by Americans in Germany as likely to last for a long time. There is nobody to put it out.

Chancellor Hitler himself daily proclaims that view in ever-stronger terms. Today he reviewed the Nazi storm troops of the Schleswig sector, adjoining the Danish border, at a great demonstration held by them at Kiel.

After the review the Chancellor made a speech in which, after commending the array before him as representative of "those 600,000 Brown Shirts who are the unswerving and steadfast phalanx guarding the disciplined will of the German people and with consistency carrying it to its ultimate conclusion," he said this:

"The world sees in us only what we are and will only respect that in us which it sees. The thought we want to demonstrate to this world is that the days of the November-Germany [Germany from the armistice until it was National-Socialized] have definitely ended.

Warns the World

"We want to make it clear to the world that it must not hope that there is another Germany than that Germany which presents itself today. There is only one. With this Germany the world must manage to get along. It must not deceive itself that there is a second Germany concealed somewhere.

"No, it is well to leave all such hopes behind. We and you [the storm troops] are the guarantee of the cause that this is not so."

It has been noted by the Chancellor's recent foreign callers that his custom of "telling" them rather than discussing with them any subject upon which he has granted them an audience is becoming more marked.

One if his latest callers, Sir John Foster Fraser, English lecturer and writer, noted after his interview with Herr Hitler last week that he had been addressed "as if I were a public meeting," at one time "feared that the Chancellor would be heard in the corridor" and left after an hour recording the impression that it had been "like spending an hour with a hurricane."

1940. Germany's Plans for Europe After the Fall of France

"The Continent of Europe is Now Fighting England"

"Another pinchbeck Napoleon arises!" Editorial cartoon from the Glasgow Bulletin, reprinted in The New York Times on June 30, 1940

This article is part of a series of posts on how The New York Times covered the rise and fall of fascism in Europe. One week after the signing of the armistice that marked the end of the Battle of France, Times correspondent C. Brooks Peters reported from Berlin on what German newspapers were saying about Germany's plans for a "new Europe."

From The New York Times, June 30, 1940:

REICH PLANS 'NEW ORDER'

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Berlin Projects From the Compiegne Armistice a Europe Nazi-Controlled and Directed

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By C. BROOKS PETERS

BERLIN, June 29 — When in the Forest of Compiègne on June 22 General Charles Huntziger, representing defeated France, affixed his signature to the German armistice terms, he not only signed incontestable proof of the military crushing of France, but also the death warrant of the liberal democratic tradition on the European Continent for an indefinite period. With the elimination of France as a determining political factor on the Continent, the last formidable stronghold of the democratic way of life on the European mainland has been wiped out by the armed might of the authoritarian movement. Democratic citadels do still exist on this turbulent continent, for example, Switzerland. But their position has become increasingly difficult with each successive authoritarian conquest.

Their future, moreover, is acknowledged to depend in no small measure on their ability to placate or at least not to offend the authoritarian Colossi.

The leading National Socialist party evening newspaper, the Angriff, made this quite clear this week.

"The Europe that was will never return," said the Angriff. "The State that wants to live in the new Europe must also acknowledge allegiance to the new European spirit. The new Europe will also be a Europe in which none may sully without punishment the land that stands at its head. Citizens of Switzerland, you must add that to your knowledge."

'Duties' for Small States

The authoritative Suedost Echo expresses the same sentiments even more positively.

"The solidarity of the Continent will no longer be a mere phrase of the League of Nations in the new period that is dawning," says this journal. "It will not only contain rights for the small States but also duties."

So, even should these small States survive and be able to maintain their internal sovereignty, they will have to reorientate themselves to the "new order" in Europe and sacrifice in addition to their economic independence much of the individual freedom of thought and expression and action which hitherto their subjects or citizens have enjoyed.

This "solidarity of the Continent," moreover, became this week after the Compiègne agreement the dominant note of editorial comment in the leading papers of the German press.

'Continent Fights England'

"After the fall of the last European traitor, France," the Suedost Echo asserted, "the Continent of Europe is now fighting England."

It will be necessary, the press adds, to develop a "continental feeling" among the nations of the European mainland, led by the Reich.

The Bergwerkszeitung says that Britain has been thrown out of Europe and has become "what befits her nature—an island on the outskirts of Europe, inhabited by a people of insular character."

When the Germans speak of continental solidarity they mean the reorganization of Europe, particularly Southeastern Europe, in terms of "Realpolitik."

The Balkanization of a large part of Europe in the past, it is said here, meant merely the existence of a chaotic conglomeration of States pursuing conflicting political and economic aims, which made Europe nothing but a geographic conception.

Having galvanized German unity and beaten all his Western enemies to date, except the British, Adolf Hitler, in the opinion of neutral diplomatic circles here, is now determined to establish political and economic stability in Southeastern Europe, in accordance with what Germany and Italy, but chiefly Germany, believe to be the best interests of the Southeastern States as members of the family of nations in what is known as the "New Europe."

More Planned Economy

With the entrance of Italy into the war, the task was made simpler for the Axis powers. To all practical purposes the European Continent is cut off from trade with Britain and the continental nations must further adjust their economies to meet the requirements of the Axis. The demonstration of prowess by the German armed forces has unquestionably had also a political reaction in the smaller European nations that have been favorable to the authoritarian states.

One thing appears certain. The aims of the Reich in Europe presume the progressive enforcement of a policy of planned economy similar to that adopted within Greater Germany. It may take the form of a customs union for which the reichsmark will be the yardstick.

The dark horse in Southeastern Europe is Russia. It was believed the interests of Russia would be represented in this new economic reconstruction program. Her annexation of Bessarabia, however, may perhaps introduce a new factor in these calculations of the Germans.

Although official German quarters declare this move on the part of Joseph Stalin comes within the scope of the Russian-German demarcation of their last respective spheres of influence last August, the opinion of Italy, which had declared the status quo in the Balkans must for the present be preserved, is still unknown. Italy is to be the Reich's junior partner in the proposed reorganization of the Continent.

Should the "new order" in Europe be fully achieved, which naturally presupposes the military defeat of the British, it will not, the Germans say, again be disturbed by Britain.

A Total Blockade

The blockade of Britain by Germany, the Germans add, will now become in effect a blockade by the entire European Continent. The British Navy, therefore, has become a factor of paramount interest for the entire Continent, so that any peace settlement between Britain and Germany must stipulate Anglo-German naval parity, according to German calculations.

Therewith, it is said here, Britain will not ever again be able to dominate the seas and thereby be in a position to initiate another blockade of the European Continent living under its German-directed "new order."

It is not, however, only the small European nations that are going to have to make readjustments in their way of life as a result of the implications of Compiègne. The National Socialist crusade against the Jews is still an integral part of the National Socialist party's dynamic program.

This week, Dr. Robert Ley, head of the Nazi Labor Front, declared that "freedom" for Europe meant "freeing Europe from the Jews." That, he added, was being progressively effected by the advance of the banners of authoritarianism, and it would not be long, he added, until this "freedom" was finally achieved.

1950. Question of Censorship in Korean War Coverage

Foreign Correspondents Cover Outbreak of War in Korea

War correspondent Marguerite Higgins of the New York Herald Tribune speaks with General Douglas MacArthur in Korea in 1950 (source)

From Broadcasting magazine, July 24, 1950, pp. 18:

COVERING KOREA: Newsmen Cite Military Aid

In the view of network news chiefs, the cooperation of Gen. MacArthur's headquarters in news coverage of the Korean war has been irreproachable, considering the suddenness of U. S. commitment to battle.

No instances of either direct or indirect censorship of radio correspondents—save for the obvious withholding of intelligence that would violate security—have been reported, the news chiefs told Broadcasting last week.

All pointed out the difficulty of radio coverage of the actions because of the absence of communication facilities at the battleground, but they also agreed that this was unavoidable.

News reached New York that the Army was endeavoring to establish a mobile transmitter in Korea, although details were lacking. Since the fall of Seoul, no radio facilities have been available anywhere in Korea.

The installation in Korea of a mobile transmitter, capable of relaying through Tokyo to the U. S., would, of course, immeasurably assist in the radio coverage of the war.

The news chiefs applauded Gen. MacArthur's policy of avoiding censorship by the military. All said they were abiding by the security directive issued by Secretary of Defense Louis Johnson.

Generally, they said, the Public Information Office in Tokyo has been helpful to radio reporters. In the early stages of the war, there were instances of inefficiency, but the newsmen agreed this could be attributed to the fact that the PIO, like the rest of our forces, was unprepared for the unexpected Korean war.

A particular difficulty which was cited by the newsmen was the inadequacy of briefings in Tokyo during the first weeks of the operation. This has since been corrected.

Staffs Reinforced

By last week all networks had reinforced their news staffs in the battle area.

ABC, although without a full-time staffer on the scene, has taken numerous reports from Jimmy Cannon, also of the New York Post; John Rich and Ray Falk, both INS.

CBS has its own veteran correspondents, Bill Downs and Bill Costello, as well as Commentator Edward R. Murrow, shuttling between Korea and Tokyo.

MBS has Robert Stewart in Tokyo and is taking reports from Walter and Edith Simmons, of the Chicago Tribune; Pat Michaels and Jack Reed, both INS.

NBC has George Thomas Folster and William Dunn, both veterans of World War II Pacific campaigns.

Directing coverage from New York are Thomas Velotta, ABC vice president in charge of news and special events; Edmund A. Chester, CBS director of news; A. A. Schecter, MBS vice president in charge of news, special events and publicity, and William F. Brooks, NBC vice president for news and special events for sound broadcasting.

"Tokyo, December, 1952: CBS commentator Edward R. Murrow, center, and Washington bureau chief Bill Downs, right, are welcomed to Tokyo by Japan-Korea bureau manager George Herman" (source)

From Broadcasting magazine, July 24, 1950, pp. 19, 34, 36:

CENSORSHIP QUESTION: Security Issue Rises

Question of censorship—and the problem of military security versus freedom of information—arose into sharper focus last week among broadcasters, press association correspondents who furnish stations with spot news, and legislators on Capitol Hill, some of whom "erupted" over public disclosures involving American troop movements.

Meanwhile, key officials of the National Security Resources Board continued to study blueprints which envision an Office of Censorship similar to World War II.

Week's Highlights

Among the week's developments:

• Protest by the National Assn. of Radio News Directors over ouster of AP and UP correspondents from Korea, and demand for a "uniform military censorship" . . . in a matter consonant with security.

• Statement by Gen. Douglas MacArthur that "the press alone should assume responsibility" in the Korean emergency.

• Demands by Capitol Hill solons for tightening up the release of military information "at the source."

• Advice to stations by NAB that they be "cautious . . . in handling news," with emphasis that Defense Secretary Louis Johnson's military directive is "not censorship, voluntary or otherwise."

NSRB officials made plain last week that blueprints providing for creation of an Office of Censorship would be in the form of recommendations to the President, to be submitted only in the event of all-out emergency and mobilization. They indicated the office would be along lines comparable to the group headed by Byron Price in the last war, and expressed concurrence with most of his sentiments.

For the present, they felt that broadcasters could be guided largely by the text of Secretary Johnson's directive on the disclosure of certain military data and statistics and the voluntary code of wartime practices [Broadcasting, July 17].

Any potential censorship office, they confirmed, would be manned by representatives of radio, television, press, motion picture and other media. Appointment of a director would, of course, rest with the President.

The problem, they affirmed, resolves itself into two groups: (1) withholding of information at the source, and (2) actual censorship of information. They noted that the military probably would exercise the upper hand in decisions involving the former.

They backed up one of Mr. Price's 1945 observations that some people feel that the censor "should commit in the name of security all of the errors which have helped often enough heretofore to discredit censorships, to divorce their procedures completely from the dictates of common sense, and in the end to weaken greatly their effectiveness." That would not be "wise or expedient," Mr. Price felt.

The developments relating to the ouster of the AP and UP correspondents from the Korean war zone drew strong protests from the National Assn. of Radio News Directors early last week.

In a telegram sent to Defense Secretary Johnson, the NARND president, Jack Shelley, asserted that such action "greatly undermines the faith of American radio listeners in freedom of news reporters representing them to describe accurately conditions at the front."

"Uniform military censorship as applied during World War II in combat areas might be the best approach to the Korea coverage problem, but banning of newsmen who violated no security rules is indefensible," Mr. Shelley felt.

Spokesmen at the Defense Dept. information office said they had no knowledge of any reply filed by Secretary Johnson, and expressed belief that the problem no longer is an issue in view of Gen. MacArthur's action reinstating the correspondents.

Mr. Shelley, a former war correspondent who covered both the European and Pacific theatres for WHO Des Moines, Iowa, told Broadcasting he felt "nothing but uniform military censorship will provide a reasonably satisfactory method of regulating reporting in a manner consonant with security."

"It seems to me the height of the unfair to say to a group of newsmen "we'll trust you to use your own judgment; there'll be no censorship"—and then to jerk them when they exercise that judgment." He said this "extremely important principle" for all media is at stake.

Issue in Korea

The security issue arose on the Korean war front July 15 when the Army Command, under Col. M. P. Echols, Gen. MacArthur's information officer, imposed a ban on AP's Tom Lambert and UP's Peter Kalischer. They were ordered to leave the area for "disclosing information that would be of value to the enemy and would have a bad morale and psychological effect on our own troops."

Gen. MacArthur, subsequently lifting the ban, called on reporters to exercise judgment and selectivity in reporting the news from the front. He said that "formal censorship" was abhorrent to him, but pointed out that several correspondents had requested censorship. It was understood that a goodly number of the 200 correspondents now in that theatre favor complete and clear guidance, if not actual censorship. A large number of radio stations depend on AP and UP for spot news coverage of the Korean war.

Defense Secretary Johnson's directive on security measures, issued recently to the three services, was expected to provide some aid along that line.

The two news associations correspondents were not challenged on the accuracy of their stories, merely on their judgment in repeating remarks reportedly made by American soldiers delving into the question of American military aid.

Another correspondent, Marguerite Higgins of the New York Herald Tribune, also was ordered from the front but reinstated by Gen. MacArthur's command.

Congressional sentiment for security restrictions reflected growing wariness on Capitol Hill. Sen. Scott Lucas (D-Ill.) spoke for some of his colleagues and presumably for the administration when he called for censorship—"either voluntary or legislative, which no one wants"—to protect American lives. He indicated he is particularly disturbed by newspaper accounts from Korea.

"It seems almost criminal," he declared, "for commentators, columnists, and other newspapermen to tell the world exactly where our troops are congregating, where they are going, and the total amount of their equipment, especially in view of the great emergency which exists at this time."

Voluntary Restraint

The Senate Majority Leader stressed that he did not advocate "rigorous censorship, but there certainly should be a voluntary censorship of information of that sort." He thought the President should request it. Speaking as majority leader, Sen. Lucas urged "all possible restraint" by radio and press in the interest of unity.

Sen. Lucas made his statement after certain members of the House had scored newspaper accounts dealing with the movements of American troops to Korea. One—Rep. Harold Hagen (R-Minn.)—charged American radio and press with "alarmist" reporting of hostilities. He cited Gen. MacArthur's earlier statement that casualties had been exaggerated in press dispatches.

Other House members who deplored such disclosures included Reps. Wayne Hays (D-Ohio), Daniel Reed (R-N. Y.), and Thomas Lane (D-Mass.). They joined in demanding that the Defense Dept. tighten up on release of statistical information relating to troop movements, numbers, units, etc. On the Senate side, Sen. Style Bridges (R-N. H.) also called on the department to cease such "public disclosures" as a "measure of elementary security."

As an example of voluntary self-restraint, Sen. Lucas singled out the Chicago Sun-Times, which July 15 announced imposition of its own censorship for "the duration of the emergency." The newspaper is controlled by Publisher Marshall Field, of Field Enterprises Inc., which owns WJJD WFMF (FM) Chicago. It was presumed that the policy also would be extended to the stations' news desks.

Stand Welcomed

It was a telegram from the newspaper's managing editor, Milburn P. Akers, to Gen. MacArthur that precipitated the latter's statement with respect to self-censorship by the press in Korea. The General described the Sun-Times' stand as "welcome support to this command."

He stated:

It reflects the most commendable determination to fulfill the responsibility which the press alone should assume in an emergency such as this—a responsibility which it may not effectively share with any other segment of society, least of all the military not trained in journalism and which should devote its entire energies to the conduct of military operations," the general added.

There is probably no more misused nor less understood term than press censorship. Contrary to what many believe, no precise rule can make it effective nor were any two military censors ever in agreement on detail.

If its purpose is to be served, censorship must be of the spirit and applied only by those themselves who print the news. Its objective is not to mislead or misrepresent the truth, as that is repugnant to the basic concepts of a free society, but rather to avoid printing information of direct military value to the enemy or such as may contribute through under-emphasis or emotional stress psychologically to his cause by raising the morale of his forces while depressing that of ours.

The formula is a simple one and one which all men of normal understanding may easily comprehend and apply.

The contention of some that the military must take the responsibility of laying down fixed rules governing the limitation upon news and pass upon each item before it is printed is as unrealistic as it is ineffective.

In the Korean operations, it has been my purpose to leave this responsibility where it rightfully belongs, in the hands of the correspondents, editors and publishers concerned.

Secretary Johnson's security directive was prepared by the Defense Dept.'s Security Review Branch, which serves as a clearing-house for material dealing with the three military services. It is headed by Lt. Col. Joseph Edgerton and is the outgrowth of conferences on proposals for a security code between Former Secretary James Forrestal and a committee comprising representatives of radio, press and motion picture interests. It materialized from unification of the services [Broadcasting, April 12, 1948].

Overall Planning

Today overall censorship planning is being mapped by a special section of the National Security Resources Board under Gilbert C. Jacobus, Army Reserve officer with the rank of colonel.

Specifically NSRB and other planners are concerned chiefly with (1) methods of attaining satisfactory security within the military establishment and (2) creation of an office to supervise restraint among the various media in the event of emergency.

Col. Edgerton said last week that, when NSRB completes its master plan, encompassing provision for censorship enforcement, his Security Review Branch probably will be included in the list of cooperating agencies.

Secretary Johnson's directive to the military services parallels the 1943 voluntary code to varying degrees in matters pertaining to accounts of military movements and operations [Broadcasting, July 17].

The directive also was reprinted for member stations by NAB, which pointed out that it was "not censorship, voluntary or otherwise," but merely a "guide on the release of information to be employed by responsible military authorities." NAB added:

. . . It will be useful to public media in guarding against disclosures which would jeopardize lives and property of Americans. Possibility exists that information violating these suggestions might be released thoughtlessly by military authorities, in which case public media do their country a service in using blue pencils with reference only to information designated by Secretary Johnson as involving military censorship.

Censorship as such, wartime or otherwise, is subject constantly being watched by NAB. Direct contacts are being maintained with appropriate government agencies . . .

Caution Advised

The best advice, NAB told member stations, is to "simply be cautious while you're being competitive in handling news." Following is the text of the Johnson directive:

MEMORANDUM FOR
SECRETARY OF THE ARMY
SECRETARY OF THE NAVY
SECRETARY OF THE AIR FORCE

The following is intended as a security guidance for dissemination to all echelons of the military services:

To safeguard the national security in connection with operations in the Far East Command, the following limitations are imposed on the release of information by the military services:

1. Preparations for military operations or movements within the Continental United States are subject to the following restrictions:

a. Ultimate destination of unit alerted: Refer to theater only, i.e., the Far East Command.

b. Designation of unit: Release numerical designation only when unit is of division size or larger. Numerical designation of units below Division level will not be released. Air Force Group designations will not be released. Non-divisional units will be referred to in general as a combat unit, a supporting unit, etc., of the Continental Army concerned, which have been alerted for movement.

c. Status of equipment: Not releasable.

d. Strength: Not releasable.

e. Date of movement from present location: Not releasable.

f. Sailing time of transports from Port of Embarkation: Not releasable.

2. Movements of naval vessels and transport or cargo ships from the West Coast may be mentioned after departure but no mention may be made of movements west of Pearl Harbor. Photographs of loadings, sailings and reactivation operations of naval vessels may be used within normal security limits imposed by the local commander.

3. Within the Far East Command the following restrictions have been imposed by CINCFE:

a. Reports naming specific units, sizes, places of landing, locations and troop movements may not be disclosed until officially announced.

b. Subordinate headquarters, movements, units committed (except Eighth Army, Fifth Air Force, Twentieth Air Force, Seventh Fleet, etc.), or any field locations may not be mentioned until officially announced.

4. Military forces of the United Nations acting in cooperation with United States forces should be safeguarded in accordance with the foregoing.

In case of doubt as to actual military security within the Continental United States, the Security Review Branch of the Department of Defense, Room 2 C 766, The Pentagon, Extension 71182, is available for advice.

These instructions may be shown to news media.

1951. Heated Debate in Congress Over 'Voice of America' Programming

Republicans Say Voice of America Is Biased and Ineffective

"A group of State Department announcers huddle around the microphone after the initial shortwave broadcast in Russian to Russia from New York City, Feb. 17, 1947" (source)

From Broadcasting-Telecasting magazine, July 30, 1951, p. 31:

VOA COMMENTATORS: Barrett Answers Charge

The State Dept. last week soundly scotched a series of Congressional charges involving network commentators whose service were utilized on the Voice of America by contract under the Smith-Mundt Act. NBC also joined in a partial rebuttal to a Communist affiliation blast.

The issue was raised in a caustic speech on the House floor by Rep. William S. Hill (R-Col.), who charged that the State Dept. had placed itself "in a highly dubious position" by employing certain political commentators, notably those with CBS. Rep. Hill also singled out an NBC commentator whom, he claimed, "has a lengthy record of affiliation with Communist and Communist-front organizations." He referred to Ben Grauer, who promptly labeled the accusation as "vicious" and questioned the existence of any "official record" tending to discredit his loyalty.

NBC also issued a statement saying that "we have thoroughly investigated (Mr.) Grauer at his request, and found him to be a true and loyal American."

CBS declined comment on Congressman Hill's mention of the employment by VOA of four commentators—Charles Collingwood, William Downs, Griffing Bancroft and Eric Sevareid—who he said had drawn $1,100 for private services.

In a statement issued Thursday, Edward W. Barrett, Assistant Secretary of State for Public Affairs, held that it was a "gross injustice" for anyone to imply political favoritism.

Secretary Barrett's comments were directed to Rep. John J. Rooney (D-N. Y.), chairman of the House Appropriations sub-committee, which has been critical of Voice operations. Rep. Hill's remarks came during the course of House debate on VOA funds (see separate story).

Mr. Barrett pointed out that both parties of Congress have suggested that "this program should utilize as fully as possible the best professional talent available" and facilities of private agencies.

"Naturally the Dept. of State as tried to comply with these very sensible and constructive suggestions and instructions. As one part of this program, we have utilized the parttime services of well-known American radio commentators in reaching a worldwide English language audience and in reaching audiences in other languages," he explained, citing the provisions of the Smith-Mundt Act.

He added:

. . . Such commentators have been extremely generous in doing this work at nominal rates far below the pay scale they normally receive. I hardly need to tell you that it is a gross injustice for anyone to imply that a distinguished American radio commentator should be swayed to change his views in any respect because he receives a nominal fee of $50 to undertake a special broadcast for the Voice of America.

On the contrary, these men deserve very sincere thanks from the nation for doing this work at fees substantially below those they can command elsewhere.

Render Advice

Rep. Hill had noted that "as political commentators they frequently have occasion to pass judgment and express opinions regarding the State Dept. that is making cash payments to them."

Taking another tack, Rep. Hill also described CBS as having a "reputation of being, through its so-called news programs and commentaries, a strong supporter of the Truman administration, and of socialistic tendencies generally." He continued:

. . . CBS has been well treated by the Truman administration; it was Columbia's color television system that received the approval of the FCC and is now being adopted as the standard color system for this country. Columbia stands to gain many millions of dollars from this decision. The agency that handed down the decision, the Federal Communications Commission, is, of course, the same agency that holds the power of life and death over radio stations through its licensing requirements.

In another blast, Rep. William K. Van Pelt (R-Wis.) lamented VOA's appointment of Raymond Swing as advisor and commentator. Referring to Mr. Swing's alleged sympathies for Secretary of State Dean Acheson, he scored the commentator as "one of the most unsuitable persons" the Voice could hire.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

'VOICE' ATTACKED In Fund Debate

Marked dissatisfaction with present Voice of America operation, particularly as an instrument of State Dept. foreign policy, characterized heated House debate on VOA appropriations last week.

Using the U. S. radio arm as its whipping boy, a Republican bloc of the nation's lawmakers lashed out at Voice management, programming, personnel and assorted other phases. Discussion was flavored with pungent descriptions, most of them designed to lay the groundwork for a sharp cut in Voice funds this new fiscal year.

After four days of charges and counter-charges that reverberated from Capitol Hill to the State Dept., the House finally voted to allot VOA $85 million for 1951-52 as recommended by the House Appropriations Committee [BROADCASTING-TELECASTING, July 16]. Two amendments by Rep. Cliff Clevenger (R, Ohio), to cut the Voice another $15 million and to return the bill to committee—were rejected.

The GOP bloc charged that the Voice:

• Fails to "bring hope and encouragement to enslaved peoples behind the Iron Curtain," particularly in Poland, where it rates "last" among listeners.

• Concentrates on covering up "past blunders" by the U. S. government.

• "Is about as agile as a rheumatic rhinoceros . . . red tape, lethargy and inertia are the order of the day."

• Stresses the need for funds to purchase radio receivers for use abroad as "an emergency project," but makes little progress on the project.

• Cannot be made effective unless "you have an effective State Dept."

• "Wanders aimlessly from program to program," lacking a cohesive idea or ideas"; boasts too much about the American standard of living, reflecting a "giveaway complex" and has "a very small listening audience, despite some pretty fanciful figures to the contrary."

• Should be better coordinated with an improved U. S. information program.

• Spends too much money on program evaluation ($1,312,100). Advertisers "would go broke if they spent one-tenth as much evaluating the effect of their promotion. . . ."

Bulwarking a Republican attack on the Voice were Reps. Richard B. Wigglesworth (Mass.), John V. Beamer (Ind.), William S. Hill (Col.), Hamer H. Budge (Ida.), Patrick J. Hillins (Calif.), William E. McVey (Ill.), Clarence Brown (Ohio) and John T. Wood (Ida.). Rep. Brown summed up the GOP position: Republicans support a Voice program but the overwhelming majority of its members are "distressed at the results" and blame the administration for lack of a realistic foreign policy.

The Voice also had its supporters in the House, among them Democratic Reps. A. S. J. Carnahan (Mo.), Alfred D. Siminski (N. J.), John J. Rooney (N. Y.), Prince Preston Jr. (Ga.), Laurie C. Battle (Ala.), Brooks Hays (Ark.), and Adolph J. Sabath (Ill.).

In defense of the Voice the Democrats held that the radio operation:

• Spends only 3% of its total budget for program evaluation, on the basis of claims by Thurman Barnard, new acting general manager of the program, and other advertising executives, and that radio networks and advertisers spend at least as much.

• Is counteracting Russian propaganda effectively—a fact borne out by heavy Soviet jamming operations—and is "rendering a real service behind the Iron Curtain."

• Is acting within the provisions of the law in utilizing radio, television and other private agencies as well as professional services of individual commentators (see separate story).

• Is "carrying America's message to the world," under the "expert generalship" of Edward W. Barrett, Assistant Secretary of State for Public Affairs.

A suggestion advanced during House discussion was one by Rep. William H. Ayres (R-Ohio) to set up a House committee on the Voice of America. "We have had an Un-American Activities Committee for quite some time," he noted. "I suggest we have a pro-America."