Restoring a Teletype Model 15
aetherltd.com
aetherltd.com
I restored five Teletype machines, and they were at major steampunk conventions for almost a decade. Here's our telegraph office.[1]
I know about the guy at the Computer Museum, although I've never heard from him. He built one of my interface boards. I built an interface that drives one of the old teletypes from a USB port. It's entirely powered from the USB port, even though it has to deliver 120V at 60mA.[2] He's also using my "baudotrss" software.[3] He's much more into YouTube than I am. I never dreamed that anyone would want 12 hours of Teletype restoration videos.
These machines were designed to be maintainable, at three levels. First, the big components are hot-swappable. Remove two thumbscrews and the keyboard slides out. A switch closes when you do this to take it out of circuit. Remove three thumbscrews and the typing unit lifts out. Again, a switch closes so this doesn't break the current loop and interfere with other machines on the loop. Replacing the motor takes a screwdriver and about two minutes. That's everything except the cast iron base and some switches and wiring. So a quick swap in the field will get you going if you have the spares. It was routine to swap these big units and take them back to a shop for cleaning and oiling once a year or so.
At the next level of maintenance, there are removable subassemblies. The carriage and the selector assembly, the most complicated subunits, come off easily with tools. So they can be swapped by first-line maintenance if necessary.
Finally, every part can be unscrewed and replaced if necessary. That's why these machines still work. They are totally maintainable. However, they require considerable adjustment after maintenance. Measuring spring tensions and clearances is required, not just parts changing. Fortunately, the very detailed manuals have survived.[4]
The price of this maintainability was the need for too much infrastructure. Maintenance depots. Teletype mechanic schools. The military had two levels of school - one to do installation and maintenance down to sub-assembly replacement, and one for the shop techs who had to be able to totally disassemble and reassemble a machine. All specialized for one or two very specific machines. That's expensive.
[1] https://vimeo.com/124065314 [2] https://github.com/John-Nagle/ttyloopdriver [3] https://github.com/John-Nagle/baudotrss [4] http://www.aetherltd.com/manuals.html
Back many moons ago I used to operate RTTY on ham radio. On the air, since characters can be easily lost, the standard end-of-line sequence was often CR CR LF LF NUL NUL in case a CR or LF got clobbered by a static crash or such, and the NULs are extra settling time. (Usually we also configured "unshift-on-space" because a lost LTRS in Murray code is annoying. We all assumed the other end was running U.S.O.S. so always assumed SPACE took the receiver out of FIGS mode and therefore sent a redundant FIGS after SPACE.)
If you are wondering why UARTs can be configured for 5 data bits and 1.5 stop bits.... Murray code as used in Model 15's is why. Once upon a time I did a Apple II program in 6502 assembly that gave me a "glass TTY", split screen, received text on the top 2/3's of screen, sent on the bottom. Interfaced to a HAL ST-6000 (I loved that box. I still have it collecting dust somewhere). Eventually I ported the glass TTY to a Macintosh I.
Now... where did I leave my cane? And get off my lawn.
osasci: ; print ASCII char, preserving A, translating CR->LFCR
cmp #13
bne oswrch
osnewl: ; print newline, overwriting A
lda #10
jsr oswrch
lda #13
oswrch: ; print ASCII char, preserving A
...
rts
(According to Wikipedia, this ordering survived into the ARM range! - maybe it helped with the ARM code too? Or perhaps they wanted the output to be identical, or nobody thought it mattered which order you print them in... no idea.)CR on its own was the standard line ending, but if you saved screen output (e.g., a BASIC listing) to a file you'd find LFCRs in the file, and if you played the output back as input you'd see a bunch of blank lines added due to the additional cursor movements.
I suppose this must have affected printer output, but I don't remember it causing any issues as the printer interface had some kind of flow control.
Much like the annoyance of trying to find a keypunch in the student keypunch area where the machine didn't have a bunch of broken star wheels for the programming drum. Some burrs under the saddle can be relegated to the dust bin of history.
Western Union's earlier Teletype-based services used tape printers, which printed on narrow paper tape. See this video, "Telegram for America", at 6:31.[1] Note that the operator typing in the message is typing "blind" - she can't see what she's typing and is expected to make no mistakes. At the receiving end, the message is printed on narrow paper tape and glued down by hand on telegram blanks. (We've done this at steampunk conventions. For smaller conventions, I put a little tape printer in a fitted Anvil case, so we have a nice portable setup.)
While page printers like the Model 15 were available, WU was mostly tape printer oriented. Compatibility between the systems needed something to convert an unbroken stream of text into lines with CR LF sequences at the end of each line.
So they invented the first word wrap device.[1] - a box full of relays which counted the characters and put in a CR LF at a word break when necessary. This was coupled to a Model 15 Teletype with a pin feed platen and some other extra features so standard telegrams could be printed automatically.
"Due to the inertia of the carriage, the travel time for a full line is in excess of the time required to send one character (space) and even with a short line, dash-pot operation with attendant carriage bounce produces an irregular left margin".
Two character times are sufficient. Hence CR LF, which overlaps the carriage return and the paper advance.
I do that today in a Python program.
A machine that needs more than two character times for a carriage return is out of adjustment. Perform procedure "Carriage Return Spring Drum Adjustment" from page 32 of the "Model 15 Adjustments" manual.[2] Also see "Printing Bail Adjustment", page 10, if the carriage is sticking on carriage return. Follow the oil-grease-oil lubrication procedure on the printing bail rails - light machine oil, light grease, light machine oil again.
Welcome to maintainable technology.
[1] http://massis.lcs.mit.edu/archives/technical/western-union-t...
[2] http://aetherltd.com/public/model15manuals/138_Model15_Adj_O...
I grew up (60's) with a few of these clacking away in my father's HAM shack. He was a member of the Military Affiliate Radio (MARS) program, and used to get things like TTYs for free.
He was really open about letting me mess with things (as long as I didn't take things apart or transmit), so I spent a lot of time playing around with them, feeding punch tapes into them to print things, etc. I knew at the time that punch tapes were a/the recording method for computer programs on mainframes, so I had a lot of "this is a computer" fantasies rolling around in my brain.
We could also connect the modem to my dad's HF radio and chat with RTTY operators all over the world. I would spin the tuning dial until I heard the distinctive RTTY tones. I would adjust the tuner until the pitch sounded correct and then turn on the teletype. Often garbage would come out until I got it tuned in perfectly, and then I might see someone calling to start a conversation, or a conversation already in progress. Sometimes I would catch a teletype art (ASCII art using 5-bit Baudot code) picture in progress. If it looked interesting, I would stay tuned in case they repeated the transmission. This took a while because these machines operated at 60 words per minute (~6 characters/second).
After a while, my dad upgraded to a Model 19, which had a paper-tape punch and reader. This allowed me to create my own teletype art, so I worked several hours creating an R2-D2 that I was very proud of. I sent it to several people and was thrilled one day when I was tuning around and recognized my R2-D2 being sent by someone else.
When my dad later brought home an Apple II, he was able to connect the Apple II to the modem, so we replaced the Model 19 with a Model 28 RO (Read-only), which did not have a keyboard or paper tape, but that was okay because we used the Apple II. Because modern computer printers like an Epson MX-80 were rather expensive then, we used the teletype as our printer, and I even turned in some school papers printed on the teletype in all-caps on yellow paper torn off from a roll. (I'm sure my teachers loved that.) When we eventually did get an Epson printer, it was hard to justify keeping the bulky teletype, so it was sold. We still did some RTTY now and then on the Apple II, but it wasn't quite the same as having the teletype machine left on all day. Of course, most of the rest of the RTTY community was also moving to microcomputers, and the hobby began to rapidly change. Then I went off to college to study computer science and haven't done much with amateur radio since then.
Reminds me of other examples such as https://arstechnica.com/information-technology/2014/03/gears...