• “Yosemite Sam,” a station that appeared in 2004, is called that because its broadcast begins with the voice of the Looney Tunes character saying, “Varmint, I’m-a gonna blow yah to smithereens!”
• “Tyrolean Music,” reportedly from East Germany, started and ended with several minutes of “oom-pa-pa” music—complete with yodeling—before a voice came on saying “Achtung! Achtung! Achtung!” and then numbers in German.
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• “Lincolnshire Poacher” station, thought to be run by England’s supersecretive MI6, punctuates its broadcasts with a few bars of an English folk song (it’s called “Lincolnshire Poacher”) played over and over again on a calliope. Another quirk: It’s also the only numbers station with inflection; its voice generator delivers the last number in each five-number string with an upward lilt.
• “Magnetic Fields” divides its Arabic-language number messages with snippets of the album Les Chants Magnétique by French composer Jean Michel Jarre.
• “Czech Lady,” also known as “Bulgarian Betty,” opens with an unidentified synthesizer tune. The nervous-sounding voice delivers numbers in Czech. (Or maybe it’s Bulgarian.)
• “Atencion” begins with the Spanish command “¡Atención!” In the early 2000s, the station was publicly implicated as a Cuban broadcaster in American cases against Cuban agents.
• “NATO Phonetic Alphabet” uses lists of letters from the phonetic alphabet (“Alfa, Bravo, Charlie…”) instead of numbers. Israel is said to be the source of this station.
• “Wunderland bei Nacht,” believed to be a German station, starts with two songs by 1960s pop instrumentalist Bert Kaempfert, “Wonderland by Night” and “Dreaming the Blues.”
• “Swedish Rhapsody” begins its broadcast with part of Hugo Alfven’s “Swedish Rhapsody” as if played by an ice cream truck, and its numbers are read in a young girl’s voice.
(Don’t worry that there’s a real woman or child locked up in a broadcasting booth, being forced to read numbers all day. Nowadays, numbers stations use the same recorded voices and technology as automated messages from telephone service providers.)
THEY LIVE AMONG US
Cracks occasionally appear in the wall of secrecy: Some governments have admitted that other governments use numbers stations for espionage. A British government spokesperson even told the Daily Telegraph that numbers stations “are what you’d suppose they are. People shouldn’t be mystified by them. They are not for, shall we say, public consumption.”
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In 2010, though, numbers stations became a part of a news story when 10 Russian spies were discovered living suburban American lives. Court documents revealed that a raid on an apartment in Seattle found a shortwave radio and spiral notebooks “which contain apparently random columns of numbers,” with the explanation that “the spiral notebook contains codes used to decipher radiograms as they came in.” And that wasn’t the first time numbers stations got a mention in U.S. espionage cases. In four separate cases between the 2001 to 2009, agents were said to have “received instructions through encrypted shortwave transmissions from Cuba.” Using code pads found in a break-in leading up to the arrests, the U.S. government said it was able to decode a handful of messages, including “Prioritize and continue to strengthen friendship with Joe and Dennis,” and “Congratulations to all the female comrades for International Day of the Woman.”
GOING MAINSTREAM
For many years, numbers station broadcasters who wanted theme songs simply used music without crediting or paying the artists and composers. Since then, musicians have turned the tables by incorporating recordings of numbers stations into their work and thus dragging them into the sunlight.
The musicians’ awareness of the stations is mostly due to a four-CD set called The Conet Project: Recordings of Shortwave Numbers Stations, released in 1997 by the Indial label. The spooky weirdness of the recordings began attracting the attention of recording artists such as the indie group Wilco, whose album Yankee Foxtrot Hotel got its name from a phrase heard repeatedly on Disc 1, Track 4. Wilco used that cut in the song “Poor Places.” At least a dozen other bands have also used Conet Project recordings, including the Submarines, We Were Promised Jet Packs, Boards of Canada, and Stereolab. Expect to hear more: Indial has made the out-of-print CD available as a free online download.
AN EASY, UNBREAKABLE CODE
Given enough time and computer crunching, most codes can be broken. For example, if you simply replace letters with numbers, it’s not hard to figure out the patterns, as anybody who has done cryptogram puzzles knows. But what if the code changes randomly with every letter? That’s the idea behind a one-time pad system.
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For example, start with a very simple pattern of 1=A, 2=B, 3=C, and so on. When your handler wanted to send you a HELLO, he’d first convert the letters to the simple 1=A system, getting 8-5-12-12-15. Easy, right? But what if, before you left the homeland for your spy assignment, you were given a cleverly concealed pad of paper with computer-generated numbers on every page, and your handler kept an identical pad at his transmitter?
Now, make it obscure
To make the message impenetrable to eavesdroppers, he’d take out his pad and read the first five random numbers there—say they’re 7, 15, 1, 8, 3. He’d add the first number of his message to the code pad’s first number and get 15. He’d add the message’s second number to the second number on the pad, and so on, eventually ending up with 15-20-13-20-18.
When he broadcasts the message on his numbers station, you write down 15-20-13-20-18. To anybody else, the five numbers could mean anything. You, though, have the only pad that’s identical to the sender’s. You can subtract exactly the same random numbers he added and figure out the message. Since nobody else has a pad, every single number could literally be any letter—even the repeated number 20 offers no clue, because it happens to mean E the first time and L the second time.
Just to be safe…
After you translate the message, you destroy that page of numbers. The next time he sends a message, he’ll use the next page on the pad with a new set of random numbers. That way, no one can figure out your ever-changing code—unless they get ahold of one of your pads. That’s the only weakness of the system, so spy agencies have gone to great trouble to keep the pads secure. The U.S.S.R., it’s said, issued a powerful magnifying glass to spies because its code pads were made small enough to hide inside a walnut shell. Spy lore holds that the Russians also printed the pads on flash paper—self-igniting paper that stage magicians use to produce flames from their fingertips—so the pads could be destroyed in (literally) the snap of a finger. What about the United States? Rumor has it that the CIA accomplished the same result by printing its code pads on flattened pieces of chewing gum.
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FALSELY ACCUSED
You’re just living your life, doing your thing, and then—boom!—someone accuses you of a crime you didn’t commit. Everything goes topsy-turvy and nothing is ever the same again. It happened to these people. (Warning: Some of the allegations are disturbing.)
THE ACCUSED: A.J. and Lisa Demaree, of Peoria, Arizona
BACKGROUND: In 2008, after the Demarees and their three daughters, aged 5, 4, and 1, returned from a trip, A. J. took his camera’s memory card to Walmart to have prints made.
STORY: A few of the 144 photos showed the girls playing at bathtime. “They’re typical pictures that 99% of families have,” A. J. said. A Walmart employee, however, thought the photos were pornography and called the cops. Result: Child Protection Services went to the Demarees’ home and took the girls away. A.J. and Lisa were questioned by police, who wouldn’t even let them see their
kids. No criminal charges were filed and the parents were granted supervised visitation rights, but the girls were remanded to the state until an investigation was completed. After officials interviewed the couple’s friends and coworkers, Lisa was suspended from her teaching job, and both parents were put on a list of sex offenders. A month later they still didn’t have their children, so they asked that a judge review the case. He looked at the pictures and determined that they were not pornographic, and ruled the kids be returned immediately. But the investigation dragged on for a year.
OUTCOME: The Demarees are suing Walmart for not displaying its “unsuitable print policy.” They’re also suing the state of Arizona, who they claim slandered them by telling their friends and co-workers that the couple were “child pornographers.” In all, the family is seeking $8.4 million for “emotional stress, headaches, nightmares, shock to their nervous system, grief, and depression.”
THE ACCUSED: Francis Evelyn, 58, a custodian at Brooklyn’s Public School 91 in New York City
BACKGROUND: Having spent nearly 20 years in the job, Evelyn was well respected at work and in his neighborhood. The native Trinidadian described himself as “happy-go-lucky,” had no criminal record, and was less than two years from retirement.
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STORY: On March 19, 2007, police officers arrived at P.S. 91, arrested Evelyn, cuffed him, and took him away for questioning. Police commissioner Raymond Kelly announced that Evelyn was accused of the “heinous rape of an eight-year-old student on multiple occasions.” Detectives told Evelyn that if he didn’t confess, they’d make sure he got a life sentence in the “worst kind” of prison, where he’d likely be raped and possibly killed. If Evelyn did confess, they said, he’d get a lesser sentence. They even said they had DNA evidence against him. “How?” replied Evelyn. “I didn’t do anything!” Then the police took the unorthodox step of locking him up in Rikers Island Prison with actual murderers and rapists.
OUTCOME: Three days later, police finally interviewed the accuser. It turned out that she was known as a “troubled child” who had lied about being abused on previous occasions. (The principal knew this, but failed to tell the police.) Worse still, the girl described her attacker as a bald, white man, yet cops arrested Evelyn, who is black. The charges were dropped immediately, and Evelyn was free. But the story had already gained worldwide attention. “On the bus home,” Evelyn said, “a woman was reading the paper with my picture on the cover. The headline said ‘The Rapist.’” He couldn’t walk down the street without people pointing at him or insulting him. He was given his job back, but was unable to go near the school for months because he’d “start shaking.” At last report, Evelyn was suing the city of New York for $10 million. “They ruined my life. I don’t want those charges just to be sealed,” he said. “I want them to be washed away!”
THE ACCUSED: Richard Jewell, a security guard at the 1996 Olympic Summer Games in Atlanta, Georgia
STORY: Jewell was patrolling Centennial Park, the “town square” of the Olympics, at 1:00 a.m. when he noticed a suspicious bag under a bench, only a few feet away from where thousands of people were enjoying a concert. Inside the bag were three pipe bombs surrounded by a bunch of nails. Jewell called the bomb squad and immediately started evacuating people. A few minutes later, the bombs exploded. Although two people were killed and dozens more were injured, it could have been much, much worse.
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The press called Jewell a hero as the manhunt for the bomber began. President Bill Clinton announced: “We will spare no effort to find out who was responsible for this murderous act. We will track them down. We will bring them to justice.” Suddenly, the FBI was under a lot of pressure, which may be why they leaked a “lone bomber” criminal profile, with a note that Jewell was a “person of interest.” The next day, The Atlanta Journal Constitution ran this headline: “FBI suspects hero guard may have planted bomb.” For the rest of the summer, the FBI and the press followed Jewell wherever he went. Editorials called him a “failed cop” who planted the bomb and then called it in just so people would think he was a hero. News cameras were there when the FBI searched his apartment and special reports broke into regular programming to broadcast the searches live.
OUTCOME: In October 1996, the FBI announced that they had no evidence linking Jewell to the bombings and that he was no longer a suspect. So did he return to being regarded as a hero? No. “No one wanted anything to do with him,” said his lawyer. Jewell sued four news outlets for libel (but not the FBI). “This isn’t about the money,” he said in 2006. “It’s about clearing my name.” CNN, NBC, and the New York Post all agreed to settle their lawsuits, but the Atlanta Journal Constitution would not. That case was dismissed a few months after Jewell died in 2007 of heart failure at age 44.
SO WHO DID IT? In 2003 the FBI arrested Eric Rudolph, who had also bombed an abortion clinic and a lesbian nightclub in Atlanta. Investigators were able to link him to the Olympic bombing because of similarities among the three bombs.
THE ACCUSED: Abu Bakker Qassim, a Chinese citizen
BACKGROUND: Qassim is a Uighur Muslim (pronounced WEE-gur) living in northwestern China. Uighurs are a Turkic ethnic group that the Chinese government considers terrorists, so they are persecuted and also highly taxed. With little possibility of work and his wife pregnant with twins, Qassim fled the country in 1999, hoping to join a Uighur community in Turkey, make some money, and then send for his family. He never made it.
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STORY: His journey led him to the wrong place at the wrong time: Afghanistan in September 2001. When the United States retaliated for the 9-11 attacks, the village where Qassim was staying was bombed. Along with several other people, he hid in caves in the Tora Bora mountains. Known as a terrorist stronghold, the caves were bombed relentlessly. Qassim wasn’t a terrorist, but he’d learned how to use a machine gun at a Uighur village. He escaped to Pakistan in late 2001, where his group met some people who promised to take them to the city. But instead they were led into a trap. The people were bounty hunters, receiving $5,000 from the American government for every terrorist they turned over. Because Qassim had received weapons training, he was considered an enemy combatant. He was incarcerated in Afghanistan, and six months later, along with several other Uighers, he was transported to the U.S. military prison at Guantanamo Bay.
OUTCOME: Three and a half years after their arrival, Qassim and four of his countrymen were listed as “NLEC”—No Longer Enemy Combatants. A federal judge ruled that the men be set free. But they weren’t. They spent another year in Guantanamo—not because the U.S. wanted to keep them, but because no other country would take them. “After four years at Guantanamo Bay,” he explained, “you earn the title ‘terrorist.’ And the Chinese strongly believe it.” Had Qassim been returned to China, he said, he would be tortured. American officials agreed, but also denied him entry to the United States. The governments of Canada and several European countries rejected him as well. Only one country opened its borders to him: Albania. Even though there were no other Uighurs there and he didn’t speak Albanian, he went there and worked hard to make a life. Six years after he left his wife, he was finally able to phone her for the first time. At last report, Qassim was working at an Italian restaurant in Albania and was close to raising enough money to retrieve his wife and the 10-year-old twins he’s never met. He’s also petitioning the U.S. government to release 16 other Uighurs who are still being held at Guantanamo, all of whom he says are innocent.
THE ACCUSED: Eric Nordmark, 35, a homeless man in Garden Grove, California
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STORY: In May 2003, Nordmark was walking down the street when two police officers told him to sit down on the curb. Nordmark explained that he was an “army vet looking for wo
rk.” A few minutes later, the cops brought him to the station and took his mug shot. Then he was released. A few days later, he found a job setting up rides at a carnival. After his first day, he went to a store to buy some beer and cigarettes. When he walked out, the police were waiting for him. They cuffed him and arrested him. The charge: the assault of three 11-year-old girls. A few days earlier, the girls had claimed they were attacked by a homeless man on the way home from school, and escaped when one of them kicked the man in the groin. Nordmark’s disheveled appearance matched their description, and two of the three girls identified him in a photo lineup. Bail was set at $50,000, but Nordmark didn’t even have $50, so he was forced to remain in jail until his trial began… eight months later. Although Nordmark repeatedly denied attacking or even ever meeting the girls, several witnesses were set to testify that the local kids were afraid of him. On the second day of the trial, one of the accusers took the stand. “He started choking me,” she testified. “And then I turned purple…I couldn’t breathe, and I felt like I was going to black out.” That night, Nordmark told his lawyer that if he was convicted, he’d kill himself before he ever got to prison—he’d heard how child molesters are treated in jail.
OUTCOME: The following day, Nordmark was brought back into the courtroom. Only the lawyers, the judge, and one of the girls were there. The judge told him, “All charges have been dismissed. You’re free to go.” The girl apologized and explained that they made up the story because they got home late from school that day and didn’t want to get in trouble. The following week, all three girls were arrested at their school for the false accusation and led away in handcuffs. Two were given 30 days in detention. The girl who committed perjury got 45 days. Nordmark told reporters he wasn’t really angry with the accusers. “Kids are kids. They do bonehead things.” What upset him most was that the police didn’t perform a thorough investigation at the beginning. All they had to do, he said, was interview the girls individually and the truth would have come out. But they interviewed them as a group, and Nordmark ended up spending eight months in jail for a crime he didn’t commit.
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