OE3AH, ARCHDUKE ANTON OF HAPSBURG
excerpted from the book 'Calling CQ'
written by Clinton B. DeSoto (1941)

Amateur radio is a highly diversified hobby--that is the reason why
it is described as "all things to all men." The tinkerers, for
example, experiment endlessly with their gadgets, building them up
complete to the last screw and soldered joint and then tearing them
down again, digging forever into the "why" of things. The rag chewers
get together and talk everything under the sun; the ham bands are
full of confirmed addicts of the conversational art.

The DXers, on the other hand, compete with each other in working
distant stations. The topnotchers belong to the DX Century Club, a
select group having verified contacts with a hundred or more
countries. DXing is actually a glorified form of fishing; it takes
endless patience and skill but to the true "fisherman" it has a zest
nothing else in the world can equal. Every day of the week, every
season of the year, there are ham Izaak Waltons fishing in the ether
trying to get a nibble from a distant corner of the world.

Once each year they meet in the "Olympic Games" of radio, the annual
International DX Competition, a hotly fought struggle in which for a
week or eight days some thousands of amateurs in a hundred or more
countries put everything they've got.

Once each year they met, that is, until the outbreak of war in 1939.
Then most European stations in the theatre of war ceased operating,
and United States amateurs voluntarily forsook contacts with
belligerant countries in the interest of American neutrality.

But even in the 1938 contest the ominous note of impending war could
be heard if one were listening. The competition, held in March, was
just nearing its end when the thud of marching feet resounded
throughout the world as the German army crossed the Austrian border
to incorporate Austria into the Reich.

The amateur operators, concentrating on their annual marathon, were
at first only vaguely aware of the world-rocking events going on
outside their ears. World news was no more than a conversational
murmur intruded in the background of whispering, whistling DX by
their wives and mothers along with the coffee and sandwiches.

No more, that is, until the coincidental significance of the news of
Austria's disintegration and the continued pouring out of crisp,
clean-cut operating labeled with the call OE3AH became apparent.

For every DXer knew that OE3AH was the station of His Royal Highness,
the Archduke Anton of Hapsburg, first cousin of of Archduke Otto,
pretender to the Hapsburg throne, and husband of the Princess Ileana
of Rumania.

While the nation crumbled about his ears and the Austrian Nazis, long
enemies of the ancient house of Hapsburg and the monarchist movement,
scrambled into power Anton sat at his station in Schloss Sonnberg
calmly adding points to an already weighty contest score!

That was about all that was known at first--that OE3AH had worked
right on through almost to the end of the contest, apparently
oblivious to the historic events occurring around him. Then rumors
and fragmentary reports began to seep through. A week after the
contest ended a London Exchange Telegraph dispatch from Budapest
reported that Anton had been imprisoned in an Austrian Nazi
concentration camp.

"The arrest and imprisonment of Archduke Anton followed discovery of
a secret radio station in his Sonnberg Castle near Hollabrun,"
according to the International News Service version of the dispatch.
Another Budapest dispatch reported that it was rumored in Vienna that
ANton had been "taken into protective custody in his own interest."

If true these reports meant that, other than the Archduke Josef
Ferdinand, Anton was the only member of the Hapsburg house molested
by the Nazi regime. Even his wife, the Princess Ileana, was reported
to have been allowed to leave the country for an exiles' refuge at
Merano, Italy.

The reports meant further that it was his amateur operation, his
insistence on participation in the DX contest until the closing
minute, sticking to his key until his very safety was threatened just
to add a few more entries to his log, that had cost the archduke his
liberty, if indeed he was in custody.

What precipitated the reported arrest was not made clear. Perhaps
constabulary forces had invaded the Schloss Sonnberg on a routine
checkup, only to find this "secret radio station" in full operation.
Their attitude toward an explanation of an international amateur DX
contest can be imagined! Or perhaps, it was hinted, Austria's ruling
Nazis seized upon Anton's long-pursued hobby of amateur
experimentation as an excuse to strike at the house of Hapsburg.

In a month or two further reports began to trickle through, rumors
that the provisional arrest had been terminated, that Anton was now
allowed the freedom of his own estate. Finally there came the first
word from the archduke himself, a carbon copy of his original contest
log constituting his report. This was dated nearly a month after the
contest ended, on April fifth; it was received in the United States
two weeks later. Although the state of Austria had been dissolved as
a separate entity the bold signature to the sworn statement still
read: "Anton Hapsburg, Archduke of Austria"!

When these reports were published in the United States they brought a
prompt response from the Nazi counterpropaganda agencies. In a letter
mailed from Berlin following a conference between the archduke and
officials of the German propaganda ministry Anton denied that he had
ever been arrested.

"A few days before the 1938 contest," he wrote, "I had been at Merano
in Italy with my wife, the Archduchess Ileana, princess of Rumania,
pay a visit to my mother-in-law, the Queen Marie. I returned alone to
begin the contest and started to QSO U.S.A. and Canada. Day after day
I only pressed the key and added scores to my log. On the night of
Friday, the eleventh, I was told by a telephone call of the great
event and therefore I immediately listened at the wireless to get the
last news. I interrupted the contest, having worked seventy-nine
hours, and I spent that night listening on the long waves. On
Saturday, the twelfth, I had to drive with my car to Vienna, about
forty miles from here, to fetch my wife who was arriving by train
from Merano where I had left her. The train arrived normally, and
after we returned home and after a night's rest from the many
sleepless nights of the contest I began to operate my station on
Sunday morning, the thirteenth, on until the end of the contest,
making still 101 QSOs and so completing the ninety hours. I ask you,
would this have been possible if there had been any intention of
arresting me?

"Soon afterwards," he continued, "foreign newspapers published untrue
reports about my imprisionment, and I was not able entirely to stop
those invented stories. To convince even my relations that I was a
free man was sometimes difficult, and therefore I drove with my car
again to Italy with my wife, passing the frontier in less than three
minutes, without having been stopped a single time during the
journey. It was funny to hear during my drive on the motorcar's
receiver from a station about my arrest and so on. . . ."

Anton concluded by saying that the Austrian amateur organization was
being re-established under German direction, with himself as leader.
But this letter was the last word heard from the Archduke Anton or
his organization by his American friends of the air.

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