Tuesday, August 06, 2024

AFN Europe – The Early Years

 

Special thanks to Ray Robinson and Jeff White for the interesting story from Wavescan.

Jeff: A couple of months ago on June 6th, world leaders and military veterans celebrated the 80th anniversary of the D-Day landings on the beaches of Normandy, in 1944.  AFN Europe took part in those landings, which we thought deserved comment in our program today.  Of course, following World War II, the American Forces Network in Europe grew to become a major AM and FM radio network, with stations covering much of West Germany, Belgium and The Netherlands during the daytime, and the whole of Europe at night.  The flagship station in Frankfurt operated on 872 kHz with 150 kW, and was beloved by Europeans who enjoyed American music and culture.  On the 25th anniversary of the network in July 1968, a commemorative brochure was produced, which included information about the network’s humble beginnings during the last years of the war.  Let’s go to Ray Robinson in Los Angeles.

Ray: Thanks Jeff.  Here’s the article about AFN’s early years, as recounted in that brochure.

The idea for the American Forces Network was hatched at the very highest level during World War II days, when America was beginning to build strength for the big cross-Channel push.  It came out of a conversation in early 1943 between General Dwight D. Eisenhower, commander-in-chief of the European Theater of Operations (or, ETO), and General George C. Marshall, U.S. Army chief-of-staff.

They agreed that the American soldier needed the same sort of information media he was accustomed to at home.  He was to get a magazine (later called Yank), a newspaper (Stars and Stripes) and a radio network (AFN).

So much for the idea.  As an organization, AFN came into being a few days later at a meeting in the London office of Lt. General Jacob Devers, ETO chief of staff.  He showed a group of officers a paper on the Eisenhower-Marshall decision.  The general turned to a young captain named John S. Hayes (later appointed as U.S. Ambassador to Switzerland) who was there because of his radio experience.

“See this part about a radio network?”
“Yes sir!”
“Well, start one!”

No Name Network
At this point, a slightly reeling Captain Hayes became the first AFNer.  He couldn’t call himself that, because at that point, the network had no name.

Hayes must have reflected as he walked from the general’s office that a name was the last thing the Network needed.  There were such “minor” matters as staff, studios, and transmitters.  He didn’t yet have an office, or even a typewriter!

But, he got to work fast.  First, he wheedled some working space and a secretary.  Then it was over to personnel for a laborious sifting of their personnel records (no machine record cards in those days).  Finally three weeks later, he had the help of 12 former radio men.  (Among them was Pfc. John Vrotsos, who civilianized after the war and remained with the Network a full 20 years.)

Meanwhile, the State Department, prodded by Capt. Hayes, was getting the help of the British.  The BBC came through with studio space in an auxiliary building it maintained on Grosvenor Square; the same one from which Edward R. Murrow did his famed “This is London” broadcasts.

Other British authorities granted frequencies, and five tiny 50 Watt transmitters were built in areas of American troop concentration.

Things were in readiness by the nation’s birthday, July 4, 1943.  AFN signed on with The Star Spangled Banner and broadcast four hours.  “None of us could possibly have believed” Hayes recently wrote, “that 25 years later, AFN would still be operating in Europe.”

8800 Continuous Days
Operating it is, and it hasn’t missed a single day of broadcasting in the whole quarter-century.  Hayes was to be with the organization for two and a half years, rising to lieutenant colonel in the process.  By the time he left, the Network was operating 68 stations from England to North Africa.  It had nearly 700 staffers, its own vehicles and its own plane.  The Network even had its own uniform patch.

Programming during this period could not have been better.  The Armed Forces Radio Service was recording and sending over the cream of the programming from four networks.  And this, remember, was during the heyday of radio.  There was such a superabundance of material that officials had difficulty deciding what to leave off the air.

A large number of America’s talented young entertainers from radio, the movies and the stage were also answering the wartime call to colors.  AFN got the pick of them, including Sgts. Mickey Rooney and Broderick Crawford.

(It also got some pretty incompetent people, like the officer who was informed that a man on a remote link couldn’t get a return feed.  “Well” came the reply, “tell him to order some!”)

AFN people saw plenty of action.  One of them rode on an RCAF mission and described it vividly.  AFNers crossed the Channel with the troops on D-Day.  Mobile transmitters were assigned to the 1st, 7th and 9th Armies and moved right up with them.  Inevitably, there was tragedy.  Sgts. Jim McNally and Pete Parrish were both killed while reporting front line action.

Lily from Laguna
Memories of World War II are many and varied.  Hayes recalls being ordered to play some idiot tune, like ‘Lily from Laguna’, at some precise time, say 13:07 hours.  “In addition we had to play ‘Sur le Pont d’Avignon’ 14 times in a single day,” he laments.  He never did find out why the orders were given.  No doubt the tunes were a signal to the French underground or some other group in German-held territory.

Ex-staffers still recall fondly some of the places that were pressed into service as studios as the war advanced.  Programs went out, for example, from the former abode of Napoleon III in Paris and from a spot at Rheims directly above nine million bottles of Pommery Champagne.

The headquarters and main broadcasting operation remained in London right through to the end of hostilities, engendering jittery memories of the ‘buzz bomb’ era.  You could hear the motor as a bomb got near and all you could do was hold your breath and pray that it would keep on buzzing past.  If the motor cut off, you could brace yourself for a shattering blast.

AFN’s headquarters were never hit, but programming was interrupted three times by blasts so close that they jarred the needle off the disc that was playing.  And not one word about the bombs could go out on the air.  There was a complete blackout on news of them to keep the Nazis from knowing how terrifyingly effective their ‘secret weapon’ really was.

Miller Lawn Concerts
With the spring offensives of 1945, AFN moved into Germany with the troops and established stations at Munich, Stuttgart, Frankfurt and Berlin, plus one at Bremen that later moved to Bremerhaven in 1949.

At first, AFN Frankfurt was just another of the 68 stations.  It went on the air July 15, 1945 and its first home was a large residential building only a few blocks from the site of its present, modern studio building.

This place was typical of the AFN homes in those chaotic days.  The studio walls were soundproofed with bolts of uniform cloth and there was no room to accommodate the Glenn Miller Band when it wanted to make a broadcast.  Concerts had to be held on the lawn outside.

It was decided about this time to move AFN headquarters from London to Frankfurt (and that actually occurred at the end of 1945).  US facilities were being phased out in Britain.  Germany, as an occupied country, would be the new center of American military activity.

The house occupied by AFN Frankfurt clearly would not do for the Network headquarters.  So, they started looking around for a more suitable home, and AFN was soon launched into the 21-year-long ‘castle era’.

Well, that’s all we have time for today, Jeff, but maybe we’ll come back to that AFN brochure in a future program.  For now, back to you.
(AWR/Wavescan)