German and Finnish Siege Could Not Silence The Voice of Leningrad

On January 27, 1944, the military blockade of Leningrad, the 2nd largest city in the USSR, by German and Finnish troops was finally broken.

It lasted for 872 days and ranks as the longest and most lethal siege in world history, causing an estimated 1.5 million deaths.

Some historians speak of the siege operations in terms of genocide, as a “racially motivated starvation policy” that became an integral part of the unprecedented German war of extermination against populations of the Soviet Union generally.

According to The Leningrad Blockade, 1941–1944: A New Documentary History from the Soviet Archives, co-authored by Richard Bidlack and Nikita Lomagin and published by Yale University Press, “Next to the Holocaust, the Leningrad siege was the greatest act of genocide in Europe during the Second World War, because Germany, and to a lesser extent Finland, tried to bombard and starve Leningrad into submission.”

To sustain the defense of the city, it was vitally important for the Red Army to establish a route for bringing a constant flow of supplies into Leningrad. This route, known as the Road of Life, was effected over the southern part of Lake Ladoga and the corridor of land which remained unoccupied by Axis forces between Lake Ladoga and Leningrad. Transport across Lake Ladoga was achieved by means of watercraft during the warmer months and land vehicles driven over thick ice in winter.

Leningrad Radio also played a vital role. Many called it the Thread of Life as it became the only means of operational information for Leningraders. Radio broadcasting was an irreplaceable companion and assistant, a loyal friend of the residents of the besieged city. According to Olga Berggolts, Soviet poet, writer and journalist who became a symbol of Leningraders’ strength and determination, “Nowhere else radio meant as much as in our city during the war.”

In spite of the blockade, local theaters and special programs for children were still on the air. Separate broadcasting was conducted for partisans and residents of the occupied areas of the Leningrad region, as well as for soldiers at the front line and Baltic Fleet sailors.

And in a city where hundreds of people died every day from hunger, cold, enemy bombs and artillery shells, the working radio made it known that Leningrad had not surrendered and continued the fighting. From Olga Berggolts’ book “Leningrad Is On the Air”:

“People grew weaker and weaker. Many lay motionless for days under a pile of clothes and blankets in dark, icy apartments. It often turned out that a weakened, half-dying Leningrader had only one form of communication with the outside world: a radio “plate.” This is what brought human voices from outside, meaning that he or she was not alone! This meant that somewhere else people still lived, the city was still alive, and the compatriots were fighting, resisting the enemy onslaught…”

On June 24, 1941, 3 days after the Great Patriotic War started, my distant relative Pyotr Alexandrovich Palladin was appointed as general manager of the broadcasting center of Leningrad Radio. His father, a distinguished Soviet scientist Alexander Vladimirovich Palladin, during the war invented “Vikasol”, a hemostatic agent for wounded, and in 1945 he signed the UN Charter in San Francisco on behalf of the Ukrainian Soviet Socialist Republic.

“I became the commander of a platoon consisting of 15 workers of the broadcasting center plus two Red Army soldiers,” Pyotr Alexandrovich later recalled. He remained responsible for the broadcasting center till the end of the war.

It’s noteworthy that West European citizens relied entirely on radio receivers. As a result when German Luftwaffe began bombing British cities in the fall of 1940, local radio stations had to go silent so as not to serve as radio beacons for the Nazi pilots, and the British had no other means of declaring air raids.

At the same time, by the beginning of the war, almost every apartment in Leningrad had a wired radio. The wired radio broadcasting network became the main means of information for Leningraders. Throughout the war, no matter the bombing or shelling, the connection between the radio broadcasting node and the city broadcasting network was not interrupted for one single second.

During air raids and artillery shelling, the radio was disconnected from the broadcast network. Instead, the sound of a metronome was broadcast. For local citizens, it sounded like a heartbeat. An accelerated tempo (150 beats per minute) meant an air raid alarm, and the standard one (50 beats) signaled all-clear. Listening anxiously to the sound of the metronome, Leningraders waited for the click to be heard on the air: “Leningrad speaking!”

Sometimes air raids lasted for hours. On September 15, 1941, the alarm lasted for 18 hours and 32 minutes. During the war, a total of 649 signals about enemy air raids and 3,087 messages about artillery shelling were transmitted throughout the city. No wonder that a metronome and a radio “plate” became symbols of the besieged Leningrad together with a slice of black bread which made the daily portion of food for Leningraders.

The enemy knew the special role of Leningrad Radio, too. Luftwaffe pilots had maps with objects marked for destruction in the first place. The Leningrad Radio House was marked with a thick red cross. Nevertheless throughout the war, no matter the bombing or shelling, the connection between the radio broadcasting node and the city broadcasting network was not interrupted for one single second.

Pyotr Aleksandrovich and his colleagues ensured the broadcast of Leningrad Radio programs for residents of other regions of the USSR, too. As a result, the Soviet people knew that Leningrad was not giving up, and continued its mortal struggle with the enemy. And on August 9, 1942, a Leningrad Radio broadcast was aired to the whole world, starting with these words: “Leningrad speaking. We present the Seventh, Leningrad Symphony composed by Dmitry Dmitrievich Shostakovich.”

This date was not chosen by pure chance. On August 9, 1942, the Germans hoped to capture Leningrad, and top Wehrmacht officers received invitations to a celebration at the Astoria restaurant in city center. Instead, the besieged city heard great music on the radio and street loudspeakers, which even today gives goose bumps from the first chords, reflecting the unbending strength of spirit of our people.

In Pyotr Palladin’s words, “It was like a miracle. The fascists called Leningrad a dead city, but it turned out that the most sacred thing lived in it, i.e. the art. All 90 minutes, while the majestic sounds of the symphony spread over Leningrad, the enemy artillery was silent, and not a single enemy plane broke into the sky above our city. The Red Army literally suppressed the Nazis with fire before the broadcast began.” (This was done in accordance with the military Operation Squall, developed in strict secrecy beforehand).

Live broadcast of this concert from besieged Leningrad made a stunning impression on Nazis. Many years later, two former German soldiers visited Leningrad and confessed: “On August 9, 1942, we realized that we will lose the war. That day we felt your spiritual power to overcome hunger, fear, and even death.”

Leningrad Radio took an active part in that war, too. Specialists from the local Radio Broadcasting Research Institute equipped the transmitter with special devices that allowed it to interfere with the working enemy radio stations, tuning into their waves. On July 5, 1941, Wehrmacht units advancing on Leningrad all of a sudden heard: “Achtung! Achtung! Deutsches Volkund deutsche Soldaten! Hort uns! Wir sagen Euch die Wahrheit!” (“Attention! Attention! German people and German soldiers! Listen to us! We will tell you the truth!”).

This is how Fritz Fuchs, an Austrian working at Leningrad Radio, started regular broadcasts for German Army personnel, exposing Goebbels’ propaganda. Soon afterwards Finnish troops heard similar broadcasts in their own language.

On January 27, 1944, Leningrad Radio announced the complete liberation of the city from the enemy blockade. Prior to that, Pyotr Alexandrovich Palladin got an award “For Military Merit”. He concluded his memories with these words, “Leningrad Radio employees withstood the hardships of the war with honor. They worked courageously and selflessly. Our radio did not go silent for one single day or one single hour. The Voice of Leningrad always sounded confident and firm.”