The Soviet anthem and "Swan Lake" played: What happened to the "Doomsday Station"?

Amateur radio enthusiasts are in a frenzy: on the frequency of the famous UVB-76, also known as the terrifying "Doomsday Station" - the anthem of the USSR, "Swan Lake," and the song by Shaman, "I Am Russian." Is the station really warning about catastrophic events? Or has it been hacked?

THERE'S EVEN NO INTERNET THERE

The Russian ultra-secret radio station UVB-76 is so classified that even its "name" is unofficial. Once (the station has been broadcasting since about 1975), it transmitted exactly that call sign, which is how enthusiasts came to know it.

No one really knows where it is located. It used to broadcast from near Moscow, but now, it is likely from somewhere in the Leningrad region. There may be several broadcasting points.

Could it be that hackers have truly infiltrated such a high-level facility? And replaced the standard transmission (what UVB-76 transmits will be discussed a little later) with their own content? Or maybe they connected via a computer?

Let's discard the computer notion right away. The station is purely analog. Somewhere in an underground room, there is a microphone and some mechanical (!) device that produces sound. Everything is instantly transmitted on air. Hackers have no chance. The station is not even remotely connected to the World Wide Web.

And the "hacking" happens like this.

LET'S BUZZ LIKE A MOSQUITO

There are amateur radio enthusiasts, and then there are radio pirates. The difference between them is quite subtle: an amateur strictly adheres to the frequencies allowed for private broadcasting. They possess a license and a call sign. They are required to announce their call sign every time they go on air or finish broadcasting.

A pirate broadcasts on whatever frequencies they choose, without announcing a call sign. In other words, a pirate is simply an amateur who prefers freedom of action and does not constrain themselves with conventions. There are no significant penalties for piracy, unless the transmission interferes with special services: railways, aviation, police, etc. However, amateurs certainly do not like pirates; in fact, they despise them. And the feeling is mutual.

So, a pirate takes a simple transmitter (colloquially known as a "shar-manka"). They head out to a forest. Quickly set up their rudimentary equipment, toss an antenna wire over a branch, tune into the UVB-76 frequency, and transmit whatever they deem necessary. Whether it's Shaman or "Swan Lake."

The UVB-76 signal is so powerful that it can be received almost worldwide. The pirate's signal resembles more of a mosquito's buzz. Nevertheless, at a distance from the pirate, say 20, 50, or even 100 kilometers, the signals overlap. For those listening, it creates a complete impression that the station has been hacked.

But in reality, there is no hacking. It is impossible to hack UVB-76.

SCARY IMAGES

Often, the media reports that UVB-76 transmits all sorts of scary images. Readers are puzzled: how can radio transmit a picture? And how can it be seen through a receiver? Let us explain.

For the past 15 years, many radio amateurs have stopped turning the tuning knob of their receiver and instead analyze the signal using a computer. On the screen, there is a certain frequency band, and signals crawl from top to bottom (this is called a "waterfall," and collectively, it's known as SDR technology). This is convenient. At any moment, you are listening to one station. But on the screen, you can see the signals of neighboring stations. If something interesting appears, with a simple mouse click, you can switch.

Since there is a screen, images can also be displayed on it. To send an image, a pirate must take some picture, break it down into pixels, distribute the pixels across frequencies, and transmit all of this on air. To the ear, on a simple receiver, the image sounds like a series of meaningless noises. However, on a computer screen, it appears in all its glory.

The procedure seems complicated, but it is all done automatically, of course. Such tricks have been performed with UVB-76 more than once, and there are fresh reports that it is happening again. But such images are only visible close to the pirate.

As soon as the media writes that "the Doomsday Station has transmitted horrific messages," interest in it immediately spikes. Pirates gather their "shar-mankas" and head into the woods. They do all this for the hype.

By the way, what does the station itself transmit, without pirates and hacks?

A SET OF WORDS

If you have even a Chinese shortwave receiver (the signal, as mentioned, is very powerful), you will hear it.

It resembles a ship's horn lost in the fog. Long, monotonous pulses, with pauses in between. Again and again. As already mentioned, the pulses are likely produced by some mechanical device. To ensure reliability.

Very rarely, the beeps are interrupted, and a voice reads words and letters. These could be codes (recently - ЦЖАП ЗМО9 86765 03606 ДВОЕБРАЧЬЕ 6198 6297). Or seemingly meaningful but nonsensical words. The same "двоебрачье" from the previous example. Or "азбука," "нанайка," "неупругий," which also recently aired.

Very rarely (and it has been a long time since this happened) live conversations between some operators, men and women, slip through on air. Apparently, it was a technical glitch.

THE MYSTERY REMAINS A MYSTERY

UVB-76 belongs to a class of stations that are widespread around the world (they are usually called "number stations"). Such stations are owned by intelligence agencies, military, and other serious entities. There are NATO stations, Chinese, Korean, and others. In other words, UVB-76 is not unique.

But it has gained particular fame, and here's why. Long ago, Western media, in pursuit of sensation, speculated that the station is part of the "Dead Hand" system. If Russia were suddenly struck by nuclear weapons (God forbid), and the strike hit military units, UVB-76 would go silent. As soon as the signal is interrupted, nuclear missiles would automatically launch from their silos and deliver a retaliatory strike.

It sounds grand, there is zero evidence, and there were times when the station went silent, seemingly breaking down or relocating, and nothing happened.

Nevertheless, the station became a legend, and there are many places on the Internet where live broadcasts are streamed. Hundreds of people around the world monitor it.

Recently, in Russia, a version has become popular claiming that the station's activity (voice messages) predicts something. People attempt to decipher hints in the nonsensical words. They write: as the station has activated, something serious is being prepared.

Yet, not once has this coincided with anything serious.

In reality, we do not know exactly what UVB-76 is needed for. Just like number stations in general. During the Cold War, it was said that such transmitters broadcast codes for espionage networks abroad. Now, this is clearly pointless, yet number stations exist.

The military has its secrets, and let there be something secret in this world.