Inside the Cold War

A Cold Warrior’s Reflections

Chris Adams

Air University Press

Maxwell Air Force Base, Alabama

September 1999
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Adams, Chris, 1930–

Inside the Cold War : a cold warrior’s reflections / Chris Adams.

 p. cm.

Includes bibliographical references and index.

1. Adams, Chris, 1930– . 2. United States. Air Force—Generals

 Biography. 3. Strategic forces—United States Biography.

 I. Title.

 UG626.2.A33A33 1999

 358.4 ′0092—dc21

 [B] 99 3730

CIP 

 ISBN 1-58566-068-X

Disclaimer

Opinions, conclusions, and recommendations expressed or implied within are solely those of th

author and do not necessarily represent the views of Air University, the United States Air Forc

the Department of Defense, or any other US government agency. Cleared for public releas

distribution unlimited.

ii
Dedicated to the Cold Warriors

I hesitate to wonder where our country and our freedoms would

be today if it were not for the hard work, sacrifice, and

commitment of our Cold War combat crews. The free world is

indebted to them, and to those who came before them.
Contents

Chapter Pag

DISCLAIMER . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 

FOREWORD . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . v

ABOUT THE AUTHOR . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . i

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS . . . . . . . . . . . . . . x

INTRODUCTION . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . xi

1 THE COLD WARRIORS . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 

Strategic Flexibility . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 

2 THE LEADERS . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1

General Curtis E. LeMay (1906–90) . . . . . . . 1

Admiral Hyman G. Rickover (1900–86) . . . . . 2

3 THE WEAPON SYSTEMS . . . . . . . . . . . . . 3

The Bomber . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 3

The Tanker . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 6

Reconnaissance . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 6

The Intercontinental Ballistic Missile - ICBM . . 6

The Cruise Missile . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 7

The Fleet Ballistic Missile Submarine - SSBN . . 7

SAC Alert Force Operations . . . . . . . . . . . 7

Boomer Patrol Operations . . . . . . . . . . . 8

4 FUN, GAMES, AND SERIOUS BUSINESS . . . . . 9

Combat Crew Duty . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 9

SAC Bombing Competition . . . . . . . . . . . 9

Spot Promotions . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 9

Combat Crew Proficiency . . . . . . . . . . . . 9

Operational Readiness Inspections . . . . . . . 9

Security Evaluations . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 9

Survival School . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 10

v
Chapter Pag

Anecdotes . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 10

General LeMay . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 10

Admiral Rickover . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 10

The B-36 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 10

SAC Missiles . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 10

Nuclear Weapons . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 11

Cold War Operations . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 11

The Cold War . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 11

They Also Served . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 11

5 BEYOND THE CALL . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 12

6 THE SOVIET COLD WARRIOR . . . . . . . . . . 13

The Conscript . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 13

The Noncommissioned Officer . . . . . . . . . 13

The Officer . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 13

The Party and Discipline . . . . . . . . . . . . 14

The Soviet Triad . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 14

EPILOGUE . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 15

BIBLIOGRAPHY . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 16

INDEX . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 17

vi
Foreword

The term “Cold War” was first used in public by Winston

Churchill, speaking at Westminster College in Fulton, Missouri

in March 1946. The Department of Defense has recently define

the period of the conflict from 2 September 1945, the dat

Japan formally surrendered after World War II, to 26 Decembe

1991, when Mikhail Gorbachev resigned as Soviet presiden

and the Soviet Union was disbanded. The Cold War was 

significant historical anomaly for the United States. We ha

never fought a war over such an extended period—more than

40 years. Downsizing after such a lengthy time was ver

painful because, for the first time in our recent history

everyone in uniform was a volunteer when the conflict wa

over . . . and never had so many served in fighting a war. An

estimated 22 million men and women were engaged in on

way or another.

While a significant number of our military forces were engage

with the Soviet Union, the warriors in the front lines day in

and day out were the members of the Strategic Ai

Command . . . known simply as SAC by most. Th

command stood up in March 1946, with 37,000 warriors

peaked with almost 283,000 men and women in 1962, an

was disbanded with the stand-up of the United State

Strategic Command in June 1992.

I can think of no one more qualified or prepared to tell th

Cold War story than Maj Gen Christopher S. Adams, USAF

Retired. In the trenches as a bomber pilot and missile crew

member for most of his career, he was part of that professiona

group expected to perform flawlessly on every mission, simulato

ride, or alert tour. A tough but compassionate leader, Chris wa

one of the most respected, revered, and effective wing and ai

division commanders in the history of SAC. His leadership

footprints are still visible in the halls of US Strategic Comman

even today. He has a rare talent for unbiased observation, an

uncanny ability to cut through the chaff, and the savvy to tel

a gripping story. This book, Inside the Cold War, tells tha

story, in my view, better than anything published to date.

vii
We fought the Cold War with hundreds of thousands o

dedicated professionals like Capt Chris Adams . . . we won th

Cold War because of the extraordinary leadership and vision of 

relatively few senior officers like Maj Gen Christopher Adams.

Eugene E. Habiger

General, USAF, Retired

Commander in Chief

US Strategic Command

(1996–1998)

viii
About the Author

Christopher (Chris) S. Adams Jr. was born in Shreveport

Louisiana, on 8 July 1930. He grew up in Texas and entere

Air Force pilot training in August 1952, following graduation

and commissioning from the Air Force Reserve Office

Training Corps program at East Texas State University (now

Texas A & M University - Commerce). Pilot training wa

followed by 13 years of SAC combat crew duty—first as a B-3

pilot with the 95th Bomb Wing, Biggs Air Force Base (AFB)

Texas, then as a B-52G pilot at Ramey in Puerto Rico. Severa

Chromedome missions later, and after the Cuban crisis

General Adams attended missile combat crew training. Upon

completion of missile crew training, he was assigned to th

44th Strategic Missile Wing (SMW), Ellsworth AFB, South

Dakota, as a Minuteman combat crew commander and th

wing senior instructor crew commander. Vietnam brought him

back to the cockpit as a C-141 transport pilot at Dover AFB

Delaware, in support of Southeast Asia (SEA) operations

Later, he was reassigned to the combat zone as Director o

Operations, 388th Combat Support Group at Korat Air Base

Thailand.

Following his SEA tour, General Adams was assigned t

Joint Task Force Eight (Defense Nuclear Agency [DNA])

Sandia Base, New Mexico, as the air operations officer fo

atmospheric nuclear readiness-to-test planning. From Sandi

Base, he was assigned to DNA Headquarters in Washington

D.C., first as executive to the director and later as Director

J-5. Following his DNA tour, he moved in quick succession

from deputy commander for operations to vice commande

and then commander of a SAC Minuteman Missile Wing.

Selected for promotion to brigadier general in Novembe

1975, Chris Adams assumed command of 12th Air Division

which included two B-52 wings, a U-2 wing, and a Titan I

ICBM wing. In July 1976, he was directed to move 12th Ai

Division Headquarters to Dyess AFB, Texas, and to begin

preparations for accepting the B-1 bomber. However, th

election of Jimmy Carter in November brought a temporar

ix
cancellation of the B-1. President Reagan restored the B-

program in 1981.

General Adams proceeded to Headquarters SAC, as deput

director of operations. Following this assignment, Genera

Adams served as deputy chief of staff, Operations - Plans, an

as deputy director, Joint Strategic Target Planning Staff. In

June 1982, he became chief of staff, SAC.

General Adams retired with 8,000 flying hours, 1,100 o

which were in SEA operations. His decorations include th

Distinguished Service Medal, the Department of Defens

Superior Service Medal, the Legion of Merit w/1OLC, th

Meritorious Service Medal, the Air Medal w/1OLC, the Ai

Force Commendation Medal w/3OLCs, and the Combat Crew

Medal. When he retired from active duty in February 1983

Chris Adams became associate director of Los Alamo

National Laboratory. He joined Andrew Corporation in March

1986, as vice president for business development. He worke

extensively in various areas of the former Soviet Union from

1991 through 1995, directing the recovery of their near

collapsed commercial communications systems.

General Adams has been honored as a Distinguishe

Alumnus of both Tarleton State University and Texas A & M

University – Commerce, and is a graduate of both Industria

College of the Armed Forces and Naval Postgraduate School

He has published articles in several professional journals

including the Air University Digest, Combat Crew Magazine

and The Journal of Electronic Defense.

x
Acknowledgments

Someone once said there is a book in each of us just waitin

to be written. Perhaps it was also said, “The gestation period

can be a very long time!”

I had this “bug” buzzing around in my head for severa

years before I gathered the courage to let it out. But for th

overwhelming encouragement and suggestions I received from

friends, colleagues, leaders, mentors, and many other Cold

Warriors I had never met, I would likely never have done it.

In the post-Cold War era, I have been fortunate to trave

extensively within the former Soviet Union, and within state

that had formerly been part of the Soviet Union, making som

23 extended visits. These visits provided personal reflection

and opinions relative to the “defeated” Soviets and thei

former allies. I was privileged to witness, and even t

participate in, some of their attempts to recover. I am deeply

grateful to the many acquaintances I made in those region

and wish to express my sincere thanks to them for thei

friendship and candor.

I am especially indebted to: Bonita Bradshaw; Vice Adm Jon

L. Boyes, PhD, USN, Retired; Brig Gen William R. Brooksher

USAF, Retired; Lt Gen Richard A. Burpee, USAF, Retired; Vic

Adm Kenneth Carr, USN, Retired; Gen Russell E. Dougherty

USAF, Retired; Lt Gen James V. Edmundson, USAF, Retired

Maj Gen James C. Enney, USAF, Retired; Lt Gen Lincoln D

Faurer, USAF, Retired; CMSGT John F. Forgette, USAF

Retired; Lt Gen Edgar S. Harris Jr., USAF, Retired; Col Larr

Hasbrouk, PhD, USAF, Retired; Gen Robert T. Herres, USAF

Retired; Comdr Bill Hulvershorn, USN, Retired; Lt Gen Warren

D. Johnson, USAF, Retired; Vice Adm Robert Y. “Yogi

Kaufman, USN, Retired; Maj Gen James B. Knapp, USAF

Retired; Col Alvin J. Lebsack, USAF, Retired; Lt Col Wilson E

Main, USAF, Retired; Vice Adm Jerry E. Miller, USN, Retired

Col John T. Moser, USAF, Retired; Carol Moser; Col William F

Moses, USAF, Retired; Maj Gen Earl G. Peck, USAF, Retired

Brig Gen Allen K. Rachel, PhD, USAF, Retired; Brig Gen

Walter B. Ratliff, USAF, Retired; Phoebe S. Spinrad, PhD; Rea

xi
Adm Paul Tomb, USN, Retired; and Rear Adm Ross N

Williams, USN, Retired. As this publication goes to press, 

wish to join other comrades-in-arms in acknowledging th

passing of Maj Gen “Jim” Knapp, steely-eyed warrior, leader

and artful contributor to this piece.

I am also indebted to dozens of others who simply said, “D

it.” Finally, I wish to acknowledge all of those whom I met in

the former Soviet Union for the opportunity to dialogue an

debate the issues. I am sincerely grateful to everyone wh

contributed thoughts and ideas—Cold Warriors all!

xii
Introduction

This publication reflects a compilation of excerpts from an

unpublished broader treatment that recounts the nearly fiv

decades of delicate coexistence between two nations known a

the “superpowers” during the international conflict known a

the “Cold War.” Publication of this text fulfills one of m

principal purposes in the original manuscript; that is, to pa

tribute to that special breed of American heroes known as th

“Cold Warriors”—the men and women who served in th

strategic nuclear forces during the Cold War. Another purpos

is to provide a brief parallel view of Soviet war fighters. Thes

two opposing groups of warriors served their respectiv

countries faithfully during those critical years of roller coaste

politics, inconsistent diplomacy, and occasional lunacy.

The Cold Warriors were the centerpiece of that protracte

conflict; many paid the supreme price. This text attempts t

provide a reasonably comprehensive essay on the Cold

Warriors—both American and Soviet—their commitments

their weapon systems, their missions, and their sacrifices. I

has been said that war is faceless; the Cold War represents 

time when two nations created unprecedented arsenals an

stood ready to attack, or be attacked by, the faceless enemy

The United States and the Soviet Union maintained tha

unprecedented mutual stance over a sustained period of time

There were a series of critical events during this war

including the Berlin Blockade, the invasions of Hungary an

Czechoslovakia, the Korean and Cuban crises, and the war in

Vietnam. All involved the Cold Warriors in one way or another

They were often called upon to transition from their primar

strategic nuclear combat preparation role into totally differen

mission environments and war-fighting systems. Thes

transitions required retraining and reorientation as well a

relocating. Then they returned to their original strategi

nuclear mission—which required still more retraining

reorientation, and relocating.

Many sources were used in the preparation of this journal

but the most numerous by far were unpublished materials

xiii
personal interviews, and my own experiences an

observations. It was in fact the enthusiastic interest an

cooperation of many professionals, some of whom were m

colleagues in arms, that made this project possible. It is t

those colleagues, and others who so honorably served, that al

credit should be given.

A former Cold Warrior colleague commented, upon hearin

that I was off on this writing venture, “If you are going to mak

an omelet, you are going to have to break a few eggs in th

process.” Indeed, I have undoubtedly broken a few eggs in

expressing my opinions. I hope you enjoy the omelet.

Chris Adams

xiv
Chapter 1

The Cold Warriors

Through the potential power and flexibility of this equipment,

and the skilled hands and minds of you and crew members

like you throughout our commands, the leaders of our country

and the allied nations are assured of the backdrop of credible

military power to stand up to and overcome any hostile

threat . . . any form of intimidation or coercion.

—Gen Russell E. Dougherty

Commander in Chief 

Strategic Air Command 

15 November 1975 

Rumors had been circulating within the 95th Bomb Win

for the better part of a year. One day soon, it was said, Strategi

Air Command (SAC) is going to place combat crews and thei

bombers and tankers on ground alert. If that were true, w

would be required to “camp out” somewhere on base near ou

aircraft for indeterminate hours, days, or weeks—and to b

continuously prepared to fly a preplanned mission to a targe

in the Soviet Union . The alert bombers would always b

standing ready, loaded with nuclear weapons corresponding t

the designated targets in our mission folder, and the tanker

would be prepared to refuel the B-47s and B-52s.

As the rumors heated up, we heard that the old bas

operations building on the flight line was being refurbished t

house ground alert crews. Some of the more curious of u

made a special trip by the facility one day and found that th

perimeter of the building was being enclosed with a ten-foot-high

chain-link fence topped with a coil of razor wire. The area took

on the appearance more of a mini-incarceration facility than 

“hostel” for SAC’s elite combat crews. The only observed clu

to suggest otherwise was that the top of the fence flared ou

This arrangement was a reasonable clue that it was meant t

keep intruders out rather than insiders in . The senior officer

in the wing kept quiet about the impending change in the live

of thousands of men, women, and their families until th

1
D-Day announcement finally came: SAC combat crew

would be placed on ground alert as of 1 October 1957.

The United States had become increasingly concerned wit

the mounting progress the Soviets were making in developin

intercontinental ballistic missile (ICBM) technology. The threa

of incoming ICBM warheads on US military installations an

airfields led the military planners to determine that SAC could

have as little as 15 minutes to get its bomber force airborn

after detection of an incoming ICBM re-entry vehicle (RV). Th

only way to assure reasonable success in launching 

retaliatory strike force would be to place as many bomber

and tankers on fast-reaction alert as could be managed

Ground alert feasibility tests, conducted with two bomber an

two tanker units during the past year, had found the aler

concept operationally feasible, but there was a major shortfall

insufficient ground and flight crew manning to support 

sustained ground alert operation. While the many details wer

still being worked out, the ground alert began on 1 October

just three days before sputnik alarmed the world. The groun

alert status would eventually require that one-third of th

entire SAC combat-ready bomber and tanker force be o

continuous 15-minute alert response time.

Joining the SAC force in this new call to duty, profession

alism, discipline, hard work, and sacrifice was the nuclea

submarine Navy. The nuclear submarines, which came alon

in the early 1960s, also met the challenge—first with Polaris 

then Poseidon , and finally Trident sea-launched ballisti

missiles (SLBM). Their alert posture called for remainin

submerged at sea for periods of 60 days or more, constantl

ready to launch missiles.

Although attention was focused on the many who wor

flight suits, missile combat crew uniforms, and nuclea

submariner uniforms, thousands of support men and wome

served on aircraft ground crews, submarine tenders, an

maintenance crews. Often overlooked, these warriors als

served, as did thousands of staff “weenies,” many of whom

had “graduated” from the combat crew force; they continued

to work, often even harder.

Finally, the really great feature of national strength tha

evolved during the four and one-half decades of the Cold Wa

2
were the young 

Cold Warriors who went on to becom

distinguished commanders and leaders. The Cold War period

witnessed the growth and elevation of many who clearl

equaled the leadership and competence of the great heroes o

World Wars I and II. Among those Cold Warriors was Ge

Russell E. Dougherty. Revered by all who served under him

General Dougherty often referred to himself as the firs

“non-hero” to command SAC. However, he indeed was a her

to those he led.

The Cold Warriors will always be remembered for thei

extraordinary patriotism, dedication, and personal sacrifice in

the cause of freedom. They came to serve from all walks o

life—small towns and large cities, farms and ranches, small high

schools and large universities. They were remarkable young men

and women who voluntarily became pilots, navigators, crew

chiefs, gunners, missile crew members, submariners, main

tenance specialists, logisticians, and administrative stalwarts

They matured more quickly and professionally than their civilia

counterparts could ever imagine, and they took on awesom

responsibilities far earlier in their lives than did those in an

other career field. The young Cold Warrior’s career horizon wa

often only a few months away—sometimes just beyond the nex

sortie or mission. Consequently, the Cold Warrior force remain e

remarkably young. They met rigorous standards of performanc

at every job level. The Strategic Air Command’s hard-earne

reputation for efficiency and excellence became the envy of al

the military services. Adm Thomas Moorer, when he wa

Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff in 1971, commented tha

“SAC enjoys world-wide the reputation of being the ultimate in

professionalism and readiness and it has set the standard for al

the military organizations of the world.” And General Dougherty

in a 1992 talk, concluded “. . . [SAC’s standards alone] had on

‘helluva’ lot to do with our effective deterrence for over 40 years

SAC’s capability was real—and the world knew it! SAC’s story i

a success story of monumental dimensions—and you [comba

crews] made it so! You made it that way—and you kept it tha

way.”

In no way do I wish to neglect or offend any of the man

other military men and women who served their countr

during those challenging years. Among them are my man

3
friends in tactical air units, North American Aerospac

Defense Command (NORAD) and Air Defense Command

Military Airlift Command, and the Army Nike air defense an

Pershing intermediate-range ballistic missile (IRBM) units

Also among them are the Cold Warriors aboard carriers

destroyers, battleship task forces, and tactica

submarines—Cold Warriors all. I will stay within the bound

of my knowledge and experience, however, and limit this review

principally to the undeniable backbone of US Cold Wa

deterrence—the men and women of our strategic nuclear forces

I often marveled at our Cold War leaders’ cleverly articulated

analogies; they had a way of reducing the world’s complex an

critical situations to common sense. One such metaphor

expressed by General Dougherty, was, “capability x will 

deterrence .” He noted that if either of the multiplicatio

factors in the equation was zero, then the product would b

zero. Capability was the US strategic forces—the Triad tha

constituted the “three legs” of the US military’s strategic nuclea

deterrence. Strategic Air Command operated two legs—th

bomber force and the land-based ICBM force. The Nav

operated the third leg—the nuclear submarine fleet ballisti

missile (SSBN) force. The capability factor also included ai

refueling tankers and airborne reconnaissance platforms. U

capability was undeniably awesome. The will factor reflected th

will of the nation and the national command authorities (NCA). I

either factor were zero, then the product would be zero.

If I were to embellish his equation in any way, it would be t

add one component—that of perception. During the Cold War

perceptions were frequently as important as realities

Perceptions were, perhaps, the “essence” of deterrence—

perceptions by Americans, by our allies, and by the Soviets

The American people took faith in the perceived capabilities o

our strategic nuclear might. Our allies maintained thei

perception of America as the defender of freedom and oppres

sion. And, importantly, Soviet perceptions of our capabilities—

and our will to use those capabilities—kept them in check

The United States wove its way along an evolving and uneve

path, often critical, from the end of World War II and th

beginning of the Cold War to the “end of the Soviet Empire

More often than not, the path was strewn with politica

4
considerations, budgetary realities, new theories, and th

ever-present specter of Soviet intentions. Few would disput

that the unwavering will and support of the American people

through almost two generations, claimed the Cold War victory

Someone along the way said that if the United States ha

set out to develop a deterrent military force, the Triad would

in all likelihood, not have been devised. Triad was simply th

result of “politics, budgetary realities, and new theories.” Bu

it worked!

Strategic Flexibility

The clock radio on the nightstand beside the bed reflected

4:00 a.m. and the intervening three or four seconds seemed

like an eternity before I realized that the incessant ringing wa

not the alarm, but the telephone. I answered the phone with 

poorly disguised attempt to sound fully awake—until the tens

voice of the wing command post controller relayed th

information that this was not a practice alert notification

Practice alert phone calls were the norm in SAC; they could b

expected at any time, day or night—especially at night. Som

alert notifications were simply to run the “pyramid alert” cal

list for confirmation of crew members’ availability and then tel

the sleepy warriors to go back to bed. Other notification

required crew members to hustle to their bomb squadrons

conduct a quick study of their strike mission folder, prefligh

their assigned aircraft, start engines, and taxi toward th

runway before the alert was called off. More often than no

the wary bomber or tanker crew did not know for sure if th

alert was real until the command post called off the exercise.

On this early morning occasion, the command pos

controller made it clear that this was not a practice; 

situation briefing was scheduled for 0530 to issue th

operations order. Bomb wing personnel had been placed on

restriction for the past three days because of Soviet Red Arm

activities in Hungary, so the alert was not entirely unexpected

(at least to test the bomb wing’s reaction time). But this cal

was not for a reaction check.

5
A million things can run through your mind as you proceed

through the routine of getting into a flight suit and collectin

essentials, then driving to the base. All the things you ha

planned to do that day—change oil in the car, go to th

cleaners, purchase an anniversary gift, get a haircut, and g

out to dinner that evening—take on a much lesser meaning.

My B-36 crew’s mission, if the “balloon” had really gone up

would have been to deliver one or more nuclear weapon(s) on

preselected targets in the Soviet Union. We would deploy from

our home base at Biggs Air Force Base (AFB), Texas, t

Kirtland AFB, near Albuquerque, New Mexico, where th

munitions crews at the Manzano nuclear storage facilit

would load on the prescribed weapons for the mission. From

there, we would fly to a designated forward staging base

refuel, rest if possible, and await further orders to launch 

strike against petroleum and transportation facilities in

western Russia. This was a 1950s scenario, and the event wa

real. Fortunately, the Soviets perceived that the United State

and the Free World were serious about the prevention o

further encroachment; the crisis subsided.

This reflection of a possible strategic nuclear attack, whic

might have happened in the late 1940s or early 1950s, was in

sharp contrast to the flexibility and response of later strategi

forces. As we look back 40 or so years at those prodigious bu

cumbersome response options to crisis situations, we fin

sharp contrast in comparison to the evolution of war-fightin

capabilities that came along in the 1960s and thereafter. A

we have seen, strategic forces were not always so capable of 

wide range of employment choices—nor were they always s

necessary. While the pathway I alluded to was often fraugh

with the realities of our democratic processes, the stead

shaping and enhancing of Cold War national strategic polic

resulted in flexible, well-thought-out, preplanned attack

options that were closely matched with existing capabilities

Combat crew members at times found themselves over

whelmed with constant training, standardization, checklists

tactical doctrine, command and control procedures, an

weapon system proficiency. Yet, they performed—an

performed well. They formed the lifeblood of US Cold Wa

fighting capability.

6
The flexible employment options continued to evolve wit

the ever-changing nuclear weapon employment policies tha

resulted from continuous shifts in the international balance o

power and the growing potential threat. The United States

enjoying unquestioned strategic nuclear superiority through

out the 1950s and into the 1960s, relied for deterrence upon 

policy of massive retaliation.

Strategic Air Command had been in existence since shortl

after the end of World War II. Gen Carl A. Spaatz announced

its establishment on 21 March 1946, while he and the new

command were still part of the Army. “The Strategic Ai

Command will be prepared to conduct long-range offensiv

operations in any part of the world . . . to conduc

maximum-range reconnaissance over land or sea . . . and t

provide combat units capable of intense and sustained comba

operations employing the latest and most advanced weapons.

Gen George C. Kenney, SAC’s first commanding genera

immediately began to gather the resources necessary to fles

out the command. For the first six months, SAC wa

headquartered at Bolling AFB in the District of Columbia. In

October 1946, the headquarters moved to Andrews AFB

Maryland. The new command’s charter seemed straightforwar

enough, but military service rivalry in the initial postwar year

reached a feverish pitch as each fought for missions, budgets

and resources to maintain some semblance of militar

capability. The understandably jealous factions of othe

branches of the Army began immediately to undermine an

discredit this “Phoenix” that was about to rise from the ashe

of a rapidly diminishing World War II airpower capability.

Gen James M. Gavin , one of the Army’s bright intellects

argued that should there be a major conflict with Russia i

would be a ground army “peripheral war,” and not a struggl

for air supremacy. (Despite the implications in Genera

Gavin’s remark, air supremacy was not SAC’s intende

mission.) He called the bombing of Hiroshima and Nagasak

“indiscriminate” and said that such a tactic in Eastern Europ

would poison the land for generations. He further argued tha

SAC had no charter to claim strategic targets in Russia o

anywhere else. The Joint Chiefs of Staff (JCS), of course, ha

7
already approved an initial SAC-devised plan to strike target

deep inside Russia if war became inevitable.

Others in the Army argued that surface-to-air missiles suc

as the US Nike would be capable of shooting down bomber

(even supersonic ones) or missiles in any future conflict. And

they argued, the Russians would certainly have tha

capability. Gen Maxwell Taylor did not approve creation o

such a strategic war-fighting command with so muc

authority. He argued that properly deployed Redstone an

Pershing IRBMs could contain any Soviet breakout in Europ

and support the infantry as it fought an advancing Red Army.

The airpower debate continued even as SAC began t

develop its capabilities and strategies, sensitive to—bu

undaunted by—the sharp critics. Critics of airpower’s ris

were also prominent in the Soviet Union. Stalin , for example

denounced the development of Soviet airpower and declared

that wars were fought and won on the ground with artiller

and infantry. Also entering the fight for mission assignmen

and recognition was the Navy. Adm Arleigh Burke, chief o

Naval Operations, argued that: “mutually opposing, poised

long-range aerial fleets, designed for use only with ‘ultimat

weapons,’ can hardly be usable or useful in meeting loca

emergency situations which historically have been the seed

of large-scale war.” Admiral Burke also claimed that the Navy

“carrying hydrogen bombs that can be delivered today, ma

under certain circumstances deliver more bruising blow

much more quickly than SAC.”

In speaking against building the B-36 and the notion of th

heavy all-jet B-52 in the future, Rear Adm James Russell 

chief of the Navy Bureau of Aeronautics, argued that th

Navy’s prototype jet seaplane, the P6M, could be more effectiv

than land-based bombers. “Sea planes could also ‘hide’ in

ocean coves and inlets around the world and be supported b

ship task forces.” The P6M, however, was completel

incapable of carrying the size and weight of the early nuclea

(atomic) weapons.*

*The terms atomic and nuclear are interchangeable; I will generally refer to atomi

bombs as the early weapons and nuclear weapons as the later ones.

8
The arguments persisted; they got very nasty and ver

public, finally resulting in the ill-famed “Admiral’s Revolt

Meanwhile, SAC continued to build the controversial B-36 an

plan for a future all-jet bomber force supplemented wit

ICBMs. The command had begun with only 148 B-29 bombers 

two fighter squadrons of P-51s to be employed as escorts, an

15 C-54s to haul supporting cargo. As the first year of postwa

confusion subsided, the number of recovered B-29s increased

to more than three hundred.

The arguments for and against long-range strategic force

continued for years—and not only in Washington. Early in

1955, Field Marshal Bernard L. Montgomery gave his assess

ment of organizing for war: “The fleets at sea-in-being may b

the only undamaged echelon in the armed forces after th

initial clash.” Winston Churchill , a staunch supporter of U

war-fighting skills, countered his old wartime military leade

in a speech to Parliament in the spring of that year: “Th

United States Strategic Air Command is a deterrent of th

highest order in maintaining ceaseless readiness. We ow

much to their devotion to the cause of freedom in a troubled

world. The primary deterrents to aggression remain th

nuclear weapon and trained United States Strategic Ai

Command [combat crews] to use it.”

During its first eleven years, SAC enjoyed virtual supremac

in the international skies. Its round-the-world flights demon

strated its capability to reach anywhere on the face of th

earth. Within weeks of its official establishment, the comman

began training with, and learning the intricacies of employing

atomic weapons. SAC was given an opportunity to “test

deterrence in November, when it was directed to send six

B-29s to Rhein-Main, Germany, because two US C-47 carg

planes had been shot down over Yugoslavia by Soviet force

During their two-week deployment, the B-29s flew along th

borders of Soviet-occupied political eastern Europe and landed

in several western European cities, essentially sending 

message to the Soviets that the United States was no

abandoning its allies. The B-29s likely did not pose a

ominous threat to the Soviets, but their reputation as atomi

bomb delivery aircraft conveyed a strong message.

9
Lt Gen Curtis E. LeMay, commander of US Air Forces in

Europe, called upon the B-29s again in June 1948, at th

outset of the Berlin Blockade. Later that year, on 19 October

General LeMay was named commanding general of SAC; th

“era of SAC” had begun in earnest.

Earlier in 1946, President Harry S. Truman had approved

Operation Crossroads, an exercise designed to evaluate th

destructive, radiation, and collateral effects of atomi

weapons. The exercise involved over 42,000 SAC, Navy, an

civilian scientists. On 1 July 1946, in the first exercise even

a B-29 crew commanded by Maj (later Maj Gen) Woodrow P

Swancutt dropped a Nagasaki-type bomb at Bikini Atoll in th

South Pacific. The planned air detonation exploded over 7

target ships of various types moored off Bikini. Five ship

sank immediately and nine were badly damaged. The Nav

then detonated a second atomic device that was tethered

under water, beneath a landing ship transport (LST) craft; i

caused even greater damage to the targeted surface ships. Th

success of these two detonations led to cancellation of 

planned third blast.

The Defense Department and the scientific community ha

determined that the testing of atomic-type weapons warranted

the requirement that specially trained people, beyond SAC

and Navy crews, conduct such experiments. Accordingly, th

Atomic Energy Commission (AEC), forerunner to the presen

Department of Energy, was created as a civilian agency an

the Armed Forces Special Weapons Project (AFSWP 

“Af-Swop”) was established as the military agency to jointl

coordinate nuclear activities. AEC was charged with principa

responsibility for the design and development of nuclea

weapons, providing the budgets, and managing the contract

of the national nuclear-related laboratories. AFSWP wa

charged with coordinating the planning of nuclear weapon

tests, conducting research on nuclear effects, and providin

technical, logistical, and training support for the Departmen

of Defense (DOD) testing units.

Maj Gen Leslie Groves, who had headed-up the Manhatta

Project, was appointed director of AFSWP. In time, an

following mission charter adjustments, AFSWP was renamed

Defense Atomic Support Agency (DASA) in 1959. In 1971, i

10
became the Defense Nuclear Agency (DNA); finally, in 1996, i

became the Defense Special Weapons Agency (DSWA)

Atmospheric and, later, underground tests of nuclear device

were conducted jointly by these agencies to validat

performance, safety, reliability, and destructive/radiatio

effects. The military services and the national laboratorie

provided the necessary resources and technical support fo

the testing. I was fortunate to be assigned for a time to Join

Task Force Eight (JTF-8), the field planning and testing unit o

DASA and DNA, headquartered at Sandia Base, New Mexico

and later as a staff officer at DNA Headquarters in

Washington, D.C. This was a rare and exceptional opportunit

for a Cold Warrior to work alongside the nuclear weapon

scientists/designers from Los Alamos, Livermore, and Sandia

laboratories. Also, I was able to participate in weapons tes

planning, and in exercises. Many of the original atomic bom

scientists, engineers, and technicians, some of whom becam

legends within their own time, remained active in the weapon

development program into the 1960s and 1970s. Nuclea

weapons testing continued in the South Pacific, directed from

the elaborate test and monitoring facilities located on

Johnston Atoll, six hundred miles south of the Hawaiia

Islands. Following the signing of the Atmospheric Test Ba

Treaty in July 1963, all nuclear weapons testing wen

underground at the Nevada Test Site near Mercury, Nevada

By that time, the United States and the Soviet Union ha

conducted a total of 336 nuclear weapons tests in the 1

years since the end of World War II.

Following its establishment and during the decade of th

1950s, SAC enjoyed a swift evolution of weapon systems an

strategic tactics. The controversial B-36 bomber came an

went, replaced by the B-52. The B-47, B-58, Atlas, and Titan 

were phased out in the mid-1960s. Atlas II, Minuteman, an

Titan II replaced Atlas and Titan I, eventually comprising 

combined total of 1,054 ICBMs by the mid-1960s.

The last generation of Minuteman (MM III) brought a

enhanced flexibility to the SAC force through multipl

independently targetable re-entry vehicle (MIRV) payloads an

a command data buffer, which allowed rapid retargeting from

the Minuteman launch control centers. The added capabilitie

11
increased the targeting and war-fighting utility of the SAC

forces. Air-launched missiles such as Hound Dog an

short-range attack missile (SRAM) extended target coverag

and allowed the B-52s to more efficiently attack heavily

defended targets in the Soviet Union. The SRAM, with it

supersonic speed, selectable yields, and multiple fligh

profiles, was as significant to SAC’s flexibility and capabilit

as was the jet engine and air refueling in earlier years. As th

Minuteman I missiles phased out in 1974, SAC’s force leve

and war-fighting capability remained unchanged with th

introduction of Minuteman III and the MK12A warhead—thre

in each missile RV, with twice the bomb yield of the olde

warheads. The late 1970s and the 1980s brought the MX

ICBM, with its greater silo survivability and improve

capability against the full range of Soviet targets, and th

air-launched cruise missile (ALCM), which gave the B-52 forc

greater flexibility in planning, penetration, and survivability

The dramatic and decisive evolution of strategic war-fightin

capabilities was paralleled closely by the nuclear submarin

SLBM force development, enhanced reconnaissance capa

bilities, sophisticated intelligence techniques, and survivabl

command, control, and communications systems.

Survivable and enduring communications were the “hear

and soul” of ensuring that the ground, airborne, and ICBM

alert forces received transmitted execution orders if and whe

initiated. The first emergency “backup” communication

system was the Blue Scout rocket program. Initiated in Jul

1963 at three operational launch sites in central Nebraska

Blue Scout was designed to augment the SAC undergroun

post. Blue Scout’s small rockets, equipped with ultra high

frequency (UHF) recorder-transmitters, would be launched t

high altitudes for broadcasting authenticated execution

messages to SAC forces. Later, selected Minuteman missile

equipped with emergency rocket communications system

(ERCS) voice recorder-transmitters replaced the Blue Scou

system. During the late 1970s, Gen Richard H. Ellis , SAC

commander, became increasingly concerned about th

survivability of the critical communications links that would

be necessary in the event of a nuclear attack. Test result

from atmospheric detonation of nuclear weapons in the Pacifi

12
clearly showed that most existing communications systems wer

vulnerable to blackout periods lasting from minutes to hours.

Since detonation of an antiballistic (ABM) warhead in th

atmosphere could “knock out” communications over th

United States, General Ellis initiated a comprehensive study o

the various effects on command and control communication

during deployments of strategic forces in wartime. The result

of the study prompted the JCS to create the Joint Strategi

Connectivity Staff (JSCS), which would be collocated with SAC

Headquarters at Offutt AFB. The CINCSAC would be JSC

director; a rear admiral would be vice director and chie

operating officer.

The purpose of JSCS was to analyze strategic connectivit

systems and procedures for SAC “readiness.” There were man

dimensions to the SAC’s forces and alert postures—policy, analy

sis, planning, continuous evaluation of both threat an

personnel—and the third leg of the Triad, the nuclear-powered

strategic ballistic missile submarine (SSBN), became operationa

in the early 1960s. After analyzing these myriad components

JSCS would make recommendations to the Joint Chiefs.

During the 1950s, the Navy began to seriously investigat

the feasibility of launching large missiles from submarines

The furor over the “missile gap” and Soviet advances in SSBN

and SLBM development hastened their investigation an

stimulated the availability of money for the pursuit. The majo

questions were how to design missile size and propulsion t

“fit” into a submarine and how to acquire the ability to safel

launch it. Atlas, Titan, and Minuteman were not feasibl

because of their size. Further, the volatile liquid propellants o

Atlas and Titan could not be considered for submarine use.

Even a more moderate version of any available system

would require horizontal storage aboard the submarine and 

launch pad on the sub’s surface. Other considerations wer

the potential for enlarging the basic submarine size an

maintaining buoyancy after a missile launch. A missile launc

from beneath the surface immediately extracts thousands o

pounds from a submerged boat, causing a sudden shift in

transfer of buoyant weight—and the principle of submarin

technology revolves around the delicate balance betwee

positive and negative buoyancy. The Navy, however, had to ge

13
into the strategic nuclear business or be left behind. The Ai

Force, SAC in particular, was moving ahead rapidly wit

long-range heavy bombers and ICBMs along with the budge

priorities to support them. Long-range submersible systems

capable of deceptive maneuvering with multiple ICBMs tha

could strike strategic targets, was the obvious direction t

pursue.

During World War II, the Soviets had built the largest flee

of submarines in the world. As the Cold War evolved, the

continued to build submarines—and to improve thei

technologies. NATO feared that the Soviets would block al

European sea lanes and threaten continental facilities wit

their fleet of three hundred or more submarines, some o

which were armed with ballistic missiles. The Soviets bega

their SLBM program in 1955, converting six Zulu -class diese

submarines into boats that could carry and launch tw

nuclear SS-N-4 missiles. They continued to develop

diesel-electric submarines for SLBM delivery into the earl

1960s, with the Golf-class boat capable of carrying SS-N-5s

6s, or 8s. In 1957, they developed nuclear-propelled Hote

class boats equipped with SS-N-5 and SS-N-8 SLBMs.

The US Navy pressed on with nuclear-powered submarin

development. In the interim, the Navy modified several olde

diesel boats to launch the Regulas missile with a nuclea

warhead. To accommodate the Regulas, the submarines wer

outfitted with a small hangar that housed two of the missile

on the deck. The boats were placed on patrol in th

northwestern Pacific, within range of selected Soviet targets

The patrol tactic for the Regulas boats called for single crews

in contrast to the dual crews later assigned to the SSBN

“boomer” boats. Regulas II, a larger and faster sea-launched

missile, then came along with a support program tha

envisioned 14 nuclear submarines. The Polaris program mad

better progress than predicted, however, and the planned

Regulas II nuclear boats were converted to nuclear-powered

attack submarines. A modified Skipjack -class nuclear attack

boat, equipped with 16 Polaris launch tubes and renamed th

USS George Washington , became the first true SSBN. Adm

Hyman Rickover had the shipbuilder “cut” the origina

Skipjack boat, the Scorpion, in half and insert a 130-foo

14
missile compartment section, extending the submarine

length to 380 feet. With the follow-on Lafayette , the lengt

would become 425 feet.

Working against a deadline to have an SSBN on patrol in

1960, the modification program met the challenge—tw

Polaris A1 missiles were successfully test-fired on 20 Jul

1960. The new strategic capability was promptly declared

operationally ready and the George Washington deployed on

the first fleet ballistic missile (FBM) patrol, slipping out o

Charleston Bay on 15 November 1960 with 16 Polaris SLBM

assigned to Soviet targets. As the era of FBM deployments o

the SSBNs began, the US nuclear Triad was complete.

15
Chapter 2

The Leaders

There were many great leaders during the Cold War, bot

military and civilian, and we have already mentioned a few

However, any discussion of the Cold War would be incomplet

without a more detailed tribute to two particular leader

whose long shadows stretched far behind them during tha

critical period. Fighting conventional thought, they overcam

almost insurmountable obstacles and constraints to plan an

build the greatest capabilities in history to both deter an

fight a war. The visions, perceptions, and extraordinar

achievements of Gen Curtis E. LeMay and Adm Hyma

Rickover far exceeded those of most military leaders.

The following brief profiles are not intended in any way t

constitute complete biographical stories of these two leaders

Rather, they are intended to provide short composites of tw

controversial and unconventional men who stood above all th

rest.

General Curtis E. LeMay (1906–90)

While not the first commander of Strategic Air Comman

(SAC), General LeMay was its “Father” by all other distinc

tions. In fact, many have called him the “creator” of U

strategic nuclear deterrence. Of the 13 commanders of SAC

General LeMay served the longest (nine years). He wa

responsible for SAC’s dramatic growth—not only in size, bu

also in war-fighting capability through technological advances

Born in Columbus, Ohio, in November 1906, LeMay wa

infatuated with flying from his earliest remembrance. H

wanted very much to attend West Point, but his family ha

neither influence nor acquaintance with Ohio’s represen

tatives and senators. Failing to receive any responses to hi

letters expressing interest in an appointment, he entered Ohio

State University.

17
LeMay was commissioned as a second lieutenant in Jun

1928, having been an honor graduate of the Army Reserv

Officer Training Training Corp (ROTC) program. Followin

graduation, he attended basic training with a field artiller

brigade at Fort Knox, Kentucky. Determining that the field

artillery was not for him, he resigned his commission a

midpoint of basic training. He then applied for appointment a

an officer in the Ohio National Guard , hoping to work his wa

into the Army Air Corps. He received the desired Nationa

Guard appointment, only to find that he had to resign tha

commission in order to enter pilot training as an aviation cadet.

LeMay earned his pilot wings and was commissioned for th

third time in October 1929. During the next ten years, he flew

fighters and bombers in various Air Corps units in the United

States and Hawaii. In 1937, four years before the United

States entered World War II, he was assigned to a B-17 bom

group and became one of the most proficient pilots an

navigators in the unit. Excelling at every assignment give

him, LeMay was promoted rapidly. In September 1942, h

took the 305th Bombardment Group to England as it

commander; a year later, he was promoted to brigadie

general. In March 1944, at age 38, he was promoted to majo

general and given command of an air division consisting o

266 B-17s and B-24s—plus an additional wing of 146 B-17s

He personally flew with his bomber crews, leading his units in

all of the major bombing attacks over Germany.

LeMay was reassigned in June 1944 to the Pacific Theater

as commander of XX Bomber Command—the first “strategi

air command.” Given the new B-29 bombers, LeMay develope

long-range bombing tactics to strike Japanese target

directly—first from airfields in China, later from the Marian

Islands. Despite the XX’s devastating heavy bombing attack

and firebomb raids, the Japanese refused to surrender

Finally, XX Bomber Command was given responsibility fo

dropping the atomic bombs on Hiroshima and Nagasak

LeMay had already gained “hero” status in news articles

having been featured in the New York Times, Collier’s , and Th

New Yorker. He was also featured on the 13 August 194

cover of Time magazine. His name and reputation becam

synonymous with strategic bombing tactics and professiona

18
aircrews. The story was often told that when his wife, Helen

asked him why he stayed in bombers, LeMay replied, “Fighter

are fun, but bombers are important.”

LeMay, turning 39 at the end of the war, was assigned t

the Army Air Staff in the Pentagon as Deputy Chief of Staff fo

research and development. While postwar downsizing an

ever-decreasing budgets were a constant battle, he fough

successfully for development of new bomber and fighte

systems. These included completion of the four-year-old B-3

project, work on the all-jet B-47 and B-52, and development o

the F-80, F-84, and F-86 jet fighters. In October 1947, LeMa

was promoted to lieutenant general and sent to command U

Air Forces, Europe (USAFE). Eight months later, the Soviet

blockaded Berlin—and LeMay gained renewed fame.

The Army Air Corps became a separate service on 1

September 1947. A few months later, General LeMay becam

commander of SAC at age 42. Being the “junior” among com

manders of major commands did not deter LeMay in his driv

to develop SAC into the most powerful military force in th

history of the world. Having successfully commanded the XX

and XXI Bomber Commands, which were greatly responsibl

for the defeat of Japan, and having been architect of th

successful Berlin Airlift operation, he easily assumed the rol

of commander, SAC. Biographers attribute his toughness an

hard-work ethic to his early childhood and college days. Th

oldest of six children in an Ohio iron worker’s family, he sup

plemented the family income with odd jobs such as shovelin

snow, delivering telegrams, tending furnaces, and managing 

newspaper route. While in college, he worked in a loca

foundry from eight to nine hours every night, six days a week

He sometimes displayed a stony, mostly expressionless glare

which has been attributed to a sinus-caused slight paralysi

in his lower right jaw and lip. In his younger days, h

disguised the paralysis by smoking a pipe; later, his hug

“trademark” cigars played that role. Someone said he wore th

cigar like a cocked pistol.

Although SAC was already in being when LeMay took

command, little had been accomplished to make it 

combat-ready force. He found morale reasonably high, bu

professionalism and crew proficiency quite low. He did no

19
openly criticize his predecessor, Gen George C. Kenney

rather, he praised Kenney for keeping the command intac

during a difficult military downsizing period. During Kenney’s

watch, SAC’s first two years of operation, SAC bomber crew

had participated in atomic bomb tests in the Pacific, begu

deployment exercises to overseas bases, and responded wit

B-29s to the C-47 shoot-down incident in Yugoslavia.

LeMay’s immediate concerns were for combat crew profes

sionalism and proficiency. He had a knack for poking int

every nook and cranny of an organization—and an eye fo

“uncovering” the slightest deviations from the expected norm

This “poking” extended from the general appearance of an Ai

Force base to the quality and service of food in the mess hall

to the cleanliness of vehicles and airplanes, to the livin

conditions of enlisted personnel, and, especially, to th

competence and proficiency of the combat crew force. He wen

to the extreme in every directional sense to impress upon hi

staff and unit commanders that he would not tolerat

anything but the best in everything—from shoe shines an

trouser creases to navigation and bombing accuracy. H

established goals in every facet of SAC life and personall

inspected their accomplishment. When he took command

SAC Headquarters was in the process of moving from Andrew

AFB, Maryland to Offutt AFB, Nebraska, and into an array o

75-year-old brick buildings left over from the cavalry days o

old Fort Crook. There were also a few mostly woode

structures remaining from the Martin and Boeing aircraf

plant that had turned out B-26s and B-29s during the war. (I

was perhaps an ironic coincidence that both the Enola Ga

and Bock’s Car, the B-29s that dropped the atomic weapon

on Japan, had come off the assembly line at the future hom

of SAC.) It would be over eight years before SAC Headquarter

moved into newly constructed facilities—and when the mov

did occur, General LeMay would enjoy the new headquarter

for only a few months before moving on to the Pentagon.

SAC saw its first delivery of the B-50A and the B-36 in th

months before LeMay took command. (He had worked hard t

get both bombers developed during his Pentagon Air Staf

tour.) General LeMay began to make SAC an elite institution

even in his first year, establishing the toughest proficienc

20
training and evaluations ever known in flying operations. H

used a number of creative techniques to instill competitive

ness within the combat crew force:

— bombing and navigation competition events

— “spot” promotions for combat crew members wh

excelled and maintained the highest levels of proficiency

— long-range demonstration flights by SAC bombers

— a war planning process that included aerial reconnais

sance, intelligence collection and processing, Sovie

target development, and nuclear weapons employment.

Over the next several years, SAC participated in the Korea

War and received the first all-jet bomber—the B-47. Genera

LeMay continued to drill SAC in the fundamentals of strategi

air war proficiency. Long-range demonstration flights wer

made by B-36s to the United Kingdom and North Africa. B-2

and B-50 units also conducted rotational deployments t

England, Japan, Guam, and North Africa. These combat-read

bomber units were capable of launching strike mission

against any targets anywhere. In 1954, B-36 bomb wing

began to rotate to Guam for 90-day ground alert tours. They

too, were ready for combat, their nuclear weapons loaded fo

execution. The first B-52 was delivered to SAC on 29 Jun

1955. In November of that year, SAC was directed to integrat

ICBMs into its strategic war plans.

General LeMay departed SAC on 30 June 1957 to becom

Vice Chief of Staff and, later, Chief of Staff, US Air Force. 

revered but controversial leader, he retired from active duty in

1964. Some, this author among them, say he was the man fo

the time. After his death, and in the wave of “Cold Wa

historical revisionism,” many critics maligned General LeMay

His character, intentions, motivation, policies—even hi

personal appearance—have come under fire from suc

prominent writers and journalists as Pulitzer Prize winne

Richard Rhodes, Northwestern University Professor Michae

Sherry, and British documentary filmmaker Paul Lashmar

Their characterizations, and wholly false accounts of events in

several instances, were fabricated without them ever havin

met General LeMay. Nor have they ever understood th

necessity for his call to arms and his leadership in a perilou

21
time. According to one of the most bizarre accusations, LeMa

was to have made a secret deal with “another general in New

Mexico,” under which the “other general” would “turn ove

control of nuclear weapons” to LeMay “for his own use in

SAC.” Anyone ever associated with, or knowledgeable of, th

national accountability and safeguard rules for controlling an

managing nuclear weapons will quickly recognize th

fraudulence of such a claim. Nevertheless, the accusation wen

forward as fact. Another myth had LeMay secretly “ordering

clandestine spy plane missions over the Soviet Union early in

the Cold War without White House knowledge—a patentl

absurd proposition !

Latter day critics often travel the last mile in their irreveren

attempts to denigrate General LeMay (and the US military as 

whole). But even LeMay’s harshest critics cannot deny hi

great achievement in developing for his country the stronges

and most enduring defense posture ever known. He did not win

the Cold War single-handedly, but he was one of the principa

architects of the US deterrence that brought it to an end.

Admiral Hyman G. Rickover (1900–86)

Admiral Rickover was every bit as controversial as Genera

LeMay. Several biographers have attempted to reach int

Rickover’s early life and the lives of his parents, but have ha

little success. The admiral would seldom sit still for interview

or provide enlightenment about his background. Two differen

dates reflect his birth: His Naval Academy biography state

that he was born on 27 January 1900; other records reflec

that he was born eighteen months earlier, on 24 August 1898

By some accounts, his father immigrated to the United State

in 1899; others suggest 1904. In any event, Hyman Rickove

was born of Jewish parents in the small village of Makow, 5

miles north of Warsaw, Poland. His father, Abraham, a tailor

found work in New York and saved enough money to bring hi

family to the United States. There is no clear record of exactl

when Hyman Rickover, his mother, and his older siste

arrived in New York, but it is known that the family relocated

to Chicago around 1908. Abraham refused to move int

22
Chicago

s tenement housing and eventually bought a

apartment building in the city’s Lawndale section.

Admiral Rickover attended John Marshall High School in

Chicago, graduating with honors in February 1918. Whil

attending high school, he worked as a Western Union

messenger—a job that put him in frequent contact with th

Chicago office of US Representative Adolph Sabath, also 

Jewish immigrant. Impressed with young Hyman, Congressma

Sabath awarded him an appointment to the US Naval Academy.

Never one to make friends, Rickover remained a loner an

studied hard, earning a reputation as a “grind.” Shunnin

extracurricular activities, he finished 106th in a class of 539

At graduation he received his diploma from Assistan

Secretary of the Navy, Theodore Roosevelt. In his firs

assignment, Rickover served as a watch officer aboard th

destroyer USS La Vallette; a year later, he was appointed

engineering officer. He found his element here, running th

ship’s engine room. He was a “spit and polish” supervisor an

a tough taskmaster. On one cruise, his engine room crew

completely overhauled the ship’s engines—a job that would

normally be accomplished by contractors while the ship wa

in dry dock.

Rickover, who loved being at sea, spent 11 of his first 1

years aboard ships. After serving aboard La Vallette, he wa

assigned to the battleship Nevada for two years as electrica

officer. In 1927, Rickover attended postgraduate school a

Annapolis. Two years later, in 1929, he earned a master’s degre

in electrical engineering from Columbia University. He was then

accepted for submarine school and assigned to the submarin

S-9. Later, he sailed aboard the S-48 for three years.

In May 1946, following a series of assignments as engineer

ing officer, commanding officer of a minesweeper, commande

of a ship repair facility, and inspector general of the nine

teenth fleet, he was assigned to the Bureau of Ships (BuShips

as liaison officer to the Manhattan Project at Oak Ridge

Tennessee. Now a captain, Rickover had already begun to drif

away from the structure of the uniformed Navy. He had als

become even more of a workaholic—a tough and fruga

taskmaster who forced his staff to travel on Sundays to sav

duty days. To further save money for his departments, h

23
would 

sponge from contractors or friends wherever h

traveled. If that wasn’t possible, he and his traveling staf

stayed in the cheapest hotels available. He never wore hi

uniform on travel, much to the displeasure of his superiors

He was rapidly becoming a legend for both his eccentric habit

and for his driving genius to get the job done—and to get i

done perfectly. Errors and sloppy work were unacceptable t

Admiral Rickover. He was called “ruthless,” “tyrant,” an

worse by subordinates and colleagues alike. A “TOBR Club

developed—“tossed out by Rickover.”

At Oak Ridge, Rickover immediately caught the eye o

Edward Teller—an association that would greatly assis

Rickover in his quest to create nuclear propulsion for ships

Although his first tutorials on nuclear power did not generat

immediate enthusiasm, Rickover eventually convinced Telle

and others in the atomic community that nuclear energy fo

ship and submarine propulsion was the future of the U

Navy. Upon hearing Rickover’s concept for the first time, a

assembly of atomic weapons scientists agreed that nuclea

propulsion might be feasible—then they told him it would tak

20 years to develop a demonstration model. (It may well b

that all the numerous accounts of Rickover’s reaction to th

time estimate are true; he already had a reputation for radica

departures from the norm.)

As Rickover argued at Oak Ridge for nuclear propulsion, th

Air Force was winning the budget battles for developin

strategic systems—the B-36 and atomic weapons delivery in

particular. Missions to hit potential strategic targets within

the Soviet Union were being given to the newly created SAC, in

large part because the Navy had no long-range delivery vehicles

Nevertheless, members of the Atomic Energy Commissio

(AEC) were not easily convinced that priority development o

nuclear reactors for ship propulsion was the proper way t

proceed. During those tumultuous times between World War I

and the Cold War, the AEC was extremely busy developin

atomic weapons for aircraft delivery.

Rickover, however, was fighting everyone who questioned

the nuclear propulsion concept. His efforts found a friend in

Dr. Lawrence R. Hafstad, whom he had known during hi

earlier assignment in the Pentagon. When Hafstad wa

24
appointed head of the AEC

s atomic reactor program, Rickove

wasted no time in prevailing upon him to consider organizin

a Naval Reactor Program within the AEC. Adm Earle Mill

who had been impressed with Rickover while working in

BuShips and who supported the nuclear propulsion concep

agreed that a naval branch should be created within AEC’s

Division of Reactor Development. Hafstad was convinced, an

Rickover was named director of the new branch.

Rickover’s assignment went largely unnoticed until senior

within the Navy and the Washington community realized tha

Captain Rickover had taken command of both Navy’s an

AEC’s nuclear propulsion activities. He could now sen

priority requests to himself from either office, obtain instan

“sign-off,” and proceed on his merry way. Rickover in no wa

abused his positions, but he did drastically cut red tape t

move the program along. He was a genius at selling ideas t

AEC and industry while saving money for the Navy. H

convinced Westinghouse that building smaller nuclear powe

plants for ship propulsion would be an ideal way to pursu

the goal of building industrial nuclear power plants

Westinghouse also got on board Rickover’s drive to diver

fissionable materials from bombs to power reactors. The AE

and a number of influential members of Congress wer

delighted with a US industry sharing the new technology an

creating revolutionary business potential.

Meanwhile, Captain Rickover continued to build his smal

empire. He took over Tempo-3, a group of prefabricate

buildings set up on Constitution Avenue during the War t

prevent overcrowding. He then ripped out all carpeting an

other items that reflected a “cushy” Washington environmen

and established work schedules of 14 to 16 hours a day

Money was still scarce, but Rickover somehow managed t

leach enough from the Navy and other sources to continu

developing a nuclear reactor and a suitable submarine. H

selected the Nautilus to receive the new propulsion engine.

In the late 1940s and early 1950s, Rickover began to creat

serious problems for himself and his programs. He ha

become, or perhaps had always been, a complete nonconformis

He fought convention and bureaucracy at every turn. H

developed complete contempt for th e conventional Navy an

25
saw the military only as a source for getting his work done. H

shunned the Navy uniform, finally giving it up altogether

Stories out of his office had it that he owned two suits—a gra

baggy tweed that he wore to work every day and a blue on

that he wore on trips or to special meetings. He grew mor

and more frustrated with the people he had to advise on th

complexities of managing military nuclear reactors an

nuclear-powered propulsion systems. His reputation as 

notorious taskmaster and brutal interviewer of job applicant

continued to grow. Interviews were “cat and mouse” games

with Captain Rickover looming like a large tiger over the smal

mice that were sent to him as candidates to work in hi

program. He threw temper tantrums, cursed at what h

considered wrong answers to questions (which were ofte

ambiguous), and generally intimidated officers and civilian

alike. But, surprising to Rickover’s critics, candidates kep

coming—and those who were finally selected to work on th

program became Rickover disciples.

His philosophical battles were equally challenging. Th

atomic physicists tended to “rule” over his engineers, bafflin

them with the magic of the atom and the complexities of thei

work. Rickover could see his programs grinding to a halt wit

the “twenty-year” program approach preached to him earlie

by the physicists. He finally got the theoretical physicist

together and announced that, in his opinion, “The atomic

powered submarine is 95 percent engineering and only fiv

percent physics .” And, he advised them, no one should forge

it. He then gave the same instructions to the engineers. Every

one must have gotten the word because program delays due t

bickering and “turf battles” all but disappeared.

Meanwhile, Captain Rickover was an officer in the United

States Navy—albeit one who had not endeared himself to th

Navy’s senior officers. He had come up for promotion to rea

admiral in 1951 and had not been selected. When his record

came before the promotion board in 1952, he had the suppor

of Navy Secretary Dan Kimball, AEC Chairman Henry Jackson 

Congressman Mel Price, and numerous other influential me

in Congress—but he had few supporters among the Navy’s

senior officers.

26
When Rickover was passed over for promotion a secon

time, which meant that retirement by mid-1953 was manda

t ory, the Navy’s promotion system came under strong pressur 

from influential members in the Congress. The Senate Armed

Services Committee, backed by the same committee in th

House, called for inquiries. In the end, and without disturbin

“the system,” the Navy Secretary prevailed; the following yea

the promotion board had before it a set of criteria fo

considering specially qualified engineering officers who ha

excelled in their duties. The pressures of the Navy’s civilia

leaders, members of Congress, and prominent news media

personalities combined to force Rickover’s promotion; h

became a rear admiral on 1 July 1953. But he was now

labeled “influential with all except the Navy,” a designation

that would both haunt and sustain him for another 40 years.

Rickover’s hard work and perseverance paid off on 3

December 1954 when the specially designed Nautilus

outfitted with the first shipboard-installed nuclear propulsion

power plant, was brought up to running power. And, on 1

January 1955, the Nautilus cast off under nuclear power wit

Rear Admiral Rickover standing next to his handpicke

commanding officer, Eugene Wilkinson. The Nautilus’ powe

plant was considered “crude” by many in the atomic energ

community, but it launched the Navy and the United State

into a new era of war-fighting capability. Two of Rickover’

staunch supporters, Congressman Mel Price and AEC Chairm a 

Clinton Anderson, immediately called on the Navy to design

nuclear-powered submarines to carry missiles with nuclea

warheads. (Nautilus went on to break every submarine record

in existence and to exceed all expectations for endurance an

speed.)

These Rickover successes led to the Polaris submarine an

SLBM programs, which were followed by the larges

submarine building program in US history—all powered b

nuclear energy. Rickover was promoted to vice admiral in

1958 and became only the third Naval officer in history to b

awarded the Congressional Gold Medal. (The two previou

recipients were Richard E. Byrd and Ernest J. King.)

In 1961, the Navy was again preparing to retire Admira

Rickover from active duty. Senior leaders arranged a ceremon

27
on board the Nautilus to present the nation

s highest peace

time decoration—the Distinguished Service Medal—to him. Th 

Navy also leaked a story to the press that he would mandatoril

retire on or about 1 July 1962. But the Navy was foiled again

Navy Secretary John Connally announced that Admira

Rickover had been asked to stay on to complete the work h

had started. President Lyndon B. Johnson initiated a series o

two-year appointments to retain him on active duty

Presidents Richard M. Nixon, Gerald S. Ford, and Jimm

Carter continued these two-year appointments. The Chiefs o

Naval Operations were apparently never consulted.

In 1973, a Congressional Resolution recommended to th

Navy that an engineering building at the Naval Academy b

named after Rickover; reluctantly, the Navy complied with th

recommendation. That same year, on 3 December, in a join

Senate and House Resolution, Rickover was promoted to ful

admiral. So, the “twice passed over” captain whom the Nav

wanted to retire and “move out of the way” became a four-sta

admiral.

Admiral Rickover saw his promotions only as a means t

facilitate his work. A nonconformist throughout his service, h

appeared at times to go out of his way to demonstrate th

same. He openly criticized the Navy’s senior militar

leadership, including Adm James L. Holloway, whom he ha

selected as a nuclear-Navy candidate early in his career an

whose father had helped Rickover’s own career.

When Holloway was selected as Chief of Naval Operation

(CNO), Rickover put heavy pressure on him to make the Nav

“all nuclear.” But Holloway recognized the budgetary implica

tions and did not support Rickover’s effort. When Rickove

went over Holloway’s head to Congress, the CNO promptl

sent a signed written statement to Capital Hill. “The issue i

which advice should the Congress follow: the advice of th

CNO, the senior uniformed official responsible for the readines 

of naval forces now and in the future, or the advice of Admira

Rickover.” Holloway made his point regarding “chain o

command,” but several congressmen made speeches chidin

the Navy for conspiring to get rid of Admiral Rickover.

Holloway’s predecessor as CNO, Adm Elmo Zumwalt, ha

applied for the nuclear Navy as a lieutenant commander an

28
had endured Rickover

s legendary interviews. He later decided

to take a different route in his career. As CNO, he had 

continuous battle with the “little Admiral.” Rickover challen ge

Zumwalt—almost always indirectly, through his Congressiona

contacts—on personnel issues, shipyards, ship-building tech

niques, and any other fault he could find. He was particularl

fond of criticizing the US Naval Academy, saying he muc

preferred university ROTC graduates over those from Annapolis 

He said academy graduates were “coddled” through their train

in g and could not handle the academic challenges of th

nuclear Navy.

Norman Polmar and Thomas Allen, in their biography, cit

Admiral Rickover as “The Unaccountable Man.” There i

ample evidence that indeed he was “unaccountable.”

Operating on a near-parallel course, and with the same zea

and crude unconventionality, General LeMay was also “unac

countable.” Yet, these two Cold War leaders, who mad

enemies quicker and fewer than friends, were the geniuse

who literally forced creation and development of the mos

powerful war-fighting forces in the history of the world.

29
Chapter 3

The Weapon Systems

“It was quite a day. The sky was full of B-29s, but I am sur

they had a better view of it all from down below than we did

There were two things that struck me at the time. One, o

course, was the tremendous, historic event that was takin

place beneath us in Tokyo Bay. The other was the amazemen

at being able to fly around over downtown Tokyo at 1,000 fee

altitude and not have anyone shooting at us.” These were th

thoughts of Lt Gen James V. Edmundson, USAF, Retired, on 

September 1945, then a colonel and commander of the 468t

Bomb Group, as he led five hundred B-29s in a flyover of th

Japanese surrender ceremonies aboard the USS Missouri. 

few weeks later, the 468th and the other groups of the 58t

Bomb Wing returned from the Pacific Theater to Sacramento

California, where they were told they would be separated from

the Air Corps immediately: “Just sign these papers and yo

are free to go home. The war is over!”

They were also told that their airplanes would eventually b

dismantled and scrapped by waiting contractors. As we know

however, saner judgments prevailed and the initial chaos o

demobilizing and dismantling the military services did no

commence with the haste that the bureaucrats and “bea

counters” may have desired. Fortunately so! One war wa

over, but another had already begun.

Only six months after the 468th flyover, the Secretary o

War directed the Army Air Corps to establish the Strategic Ai

Command (SAC). The order came in response to the growin

realization that Stalin’s postwar goals went beyond Russia

and Eastern Europe. The SAC mandate was to build a

organization for long-range offensive operations to any part o

the world. SAC began with approximately 100,000 personnel

mostly volunteers who wanted to remain in the Air Corps, an

1,300 various airplanes.

The conglomerate of aircraft consisted of B-29s, P-5

fighters, F-2 and F-13 reconnaissance planes, and a few C-5

transports. But the hastily begun postwar demobilizatio

31
process couldn

t be promptly stemmed, and SACs manpowe

eventually dropped to a little over 37,000 by the end of th

year. Those who remained were the committed and th

dedicated; they inaugurated SAC. A program to recove

airplanes from the war zones continued, and the B-29 flee

grew to over five hundred. The Air Force still lacked mission

coherency, however, and SAC’s aircraft inventory had grow

by 1947 to an odd mixture of 230 P-51s and 120 P-80s fo

fighter escort duty along with an array of RB-17s, F-2s, F-82s

and RC-45s for reconnaissance missions. These modes

reconnaissance aircraft were to be a blessing in disguise

setting the stage for SAC to become the long-term singl

manager of air-breathing reconnaissance platforms. They wer

directly related to SAC’s strategic mission planning and, late

to the comprehensive intelligence requirements of the futur

Joint Strategic Target Planning Staff (JSTPS). By 1948, SAC

had kicked into high gear and a dramatic evolution in

strategic warfare capability had begun.

The Bomber

B-29 Superfortress. Developed by Boeing during the wa

years, the B-29 gave the United States a “long-rifle” capabilit

that the B-17 and B-24 did not have. The heavy bombe

concept was consistent with American military thought from

the earliest of air war-fighting developments—“fight the war on

the other guy’s turf whenever possible.” Gen William “Billy

Mitchell had long argued that bombers could fly far out to se

and sink the enemy’s ships or drop bombs on his capitals, 

situation which would be far better than fighting the war in

our own territory.

The bomber evolution was slow between the two world war

as several US aircraft companies—Boeing, Martin, Curtiss

Douglas, Lockheed, Consolidated Vultee (Convair)—attempted

to develop the desired long-range bomber. The Air Corps ha

requested a bomber that could fly at speeds of 300 MPH, wit

a range of 3,000 miles and at an altitude of 35,000 feet. All to

often, however, the contractor tried to sell the Air Corps wha

it thought it needed rather than what was asked for.

32
World War II brought the issue to a preliminary conclusion

While the Boeing B-17, first of the US heavy bombers, did no

entirely fulfill the long-range military strategists’ desires to “fl

missions from the US mainland to foreign targets,” it becam

the most famous bomber of the day. At the end of the war

12,731 Flying Fortresses had been built. The B-17 was not th

production leader, however; Consolidated Vultee/Convair buil

over 18,000 B-24 Liberators—more than any other aircraf

before or since.

Meanwhile, Boeing had begun back in 1940 to design 

“super” bomber—the XB-29. The aircraft’s designers attempte

to fully address the long-rifle bombing concept. The thinkin

was that European bases might not always be available to th

United States. The XB-29 was dubbed the “Hemispher

Defense Weapon.” In designing it, Boeing looked ahead to th

potential for the basic structural innovations of the B-29 to b

applicable to the all-jet bombers of the future.

Other ideas under consideration were turbojet and pushe

engines. The war was ongoing, however, and the “super

aircraft had to be completed as soon as possible—which i

was. The first B-29 prototype flew in 1942, two years after th

initial design, and the first production models came off th

line in 1944. The new strategic bomber had the first pres

surized crew compartment and was powered by four 2200

horsepower R-3350 Wright Cyclone engines. The aircraft wa

fitted with remotely controlled gun turrets, the APQ-7 rada

bombing system, double bomb bays, and an engine centra

fire control system. It also had the size and power to carr

large weapons, such as the atomic bomb; the Air Corp

ordered 1,660 B-29s. The aircraft’s achievements in Europ

and the Pacific Theater, including the bombings of Japan, se

the stage for strategic bombers of the future. As a demonstra

tion of the newly organized SACs capability, 101 B-29s flew in

the command’s first “Max-Effort” mission launched on 16 Ma

1947, flying an extended navigation route and a simulated

bomb run on New York City. SAC later had 187 B-29 bomber

converted to airborne tankers—KB-29s—and more than 60 t

reconnaissance platforms—RB-29s. Earlier versions of th

KB-29 were fitted with the British-developed in-flight refuelin 

system, which used trailing hoses and grapnel hooks. Later

33
in 1950, the KB-29s were fitted with the telescoping 

stif

boom” system. The Soviets, equally impressed with the larg

bomber, built a thousand unauthorized replicas—the TU-4

Some of the B/RB/KB-29s remained in the SAC inventor

until 1956; the TU-4 remained in the Soviet inventory wel

into the 1960s.

B-50A Advanced Superfortress. The B-50A was an enhance

version of the B-29, with more reliable Pratt & Whitney R-436

3500-horsepower engines. The first B-50A aircraft was delivere

to SAC on 20 February 1948. Over 250 of the newer bombers

equipped with an engine analyzer to diagnose engine problem

and outfitted with a taller vertical stabilizer for improve

maneuverability, were built. While the B-50A had a range o

4,900 miles (unrefueled) and an operational altitude of 36,00

feet, it had an air-refueling capability and was also configured a

a long-range reconnaissance platform. The last B-50 wa

phased out of the active inventory on 20 October 1955.

B-36 Peacemaker. The B-36 holds perhaps the most uniqu

place in military aviation history. The largest bomber eve

built, it could fly in excess of 10,000 miles, unrefueled an

carrying a 10,000-pound payload. The Army Air Corp

announced the design competition for the bomber on 11 Apri

1941, eight months before Pearl Harbor and five years befor

the atomic bomb. In addition to its weight and rang

capabilities, the Air Corps wanted it to have an airspeed o

300 to 400 MPH and an operating capability from 5,000-foo

runways. Convair of San Diego won the contract to build tw

prototypes to be delivered in 30 months, or about May 1944

Even though the war shifted Convair’s priorities to production

of the B-24, work continued on building a mock-up of th

XB-36. The partially finished mock-up was eventually shipped

by rail to a new assembly plant at Fort Worth, Texas

Convair’s initial design of the huge bomber called for six Prat

& Whitney Wasp major engines, with 19-foot three-bladed

pusher propellers mounted on the trailing edge of the wing

Each 28-cylinder, 4-bank, radial engine had two super

chargers that could produce three thousand horsepower up t

an altitude of 35,000 feet. The huge engines in the “pusher

configuration projected a distinctive and unique sou nd becaus

it was virtually impossible to synchronize all six propellers a

34
the same time with reasonable precision. The result was tha

the B-36 couldn’t “sneak up” on anyone—it sounded like 

flight of bass-throated bumblebees about to attack an

projecting its noise miles ahead and behind. My wife used t

comment that she could begin hanging her wash on th

clothesline when a B-36 could be heard coming from high ove

the horizon, and finish hanging the clothes by the time it

“moan” disappeared in the distance. The initial mock-u

design of the B-36 was fitted with a twin tail assembly, whic

was later changed to a single vertical stabilizer. The vertica

tail was deemed more stable, but it measured 46 feet, 1

inches from the ground to the top. This latter feature of it

large dimensions required special very heavy bomber (VHB

hangars to be built with a padded circular hole in the hange

doors to permit the tall tail to always remain outside. Eac

wing section had three rubber-coated self-sealing fuel tanks

for a total of six. Together, the six tanks could hold 21,05

gallons of fuel. Outer panel tanks added 2,770 gallons an

auxiliary wing tanks added another 9,577 gallons. A bomb ba

tank, added later, held approximately three thousand gallon

of fuel. The B-36J, the last major modification, had a fue

capacity of 32,965 gallons or roughly 214,273 lbs, which gav

the aircraft a takeoff weight of approximately 410,000 lbs.

The wingspan of the bomber from initial design throughou

production was maintained at 230 feet, and the fuselag

measured 163 feet. An unusual feature was a single win

spar that extended from wing tip to wing tip and supported

90 percent of the engine and wing fuel tank load. The bomber’

electrical system operated on a 208 / 115-volt, 400-cycl

alter nating current system. DC converters were used t

operate instruments and other components requiring direc

current power.

The prototype cockpit in the Peacemaker had a much

smaller canopy than the final “green house” version that wa

adopted for the production models. The cockpit was reason

ably “roomy,” with a wide expanse between the two pilots an

an equally wide console to house the six throttles, trim

controls, and some radios. The flight engineer’s console sat a

an angle behind the pilots and contained “all” of the engin

operating controls and instruments, electrical power, fue

35
management systems, and environmental system controls

along with a duplicate set of throttles. The pilots had duplicat

manifold pressure gages for use in adjusting power setting

for takeoff and landing. The bombardier-navigator com

partment was another story—the three members of th

bomb-nav team pretty well had to “muscle” for space. If 

mission required instructors or evaluators, it was even mor

crowded. The radio operators, on the other hand, enjoyed 

“living room,” as did the gunners in the pressurized af

compartment. The B-36D, the 54th production model of th

bomber, introduced a jet engine pod under the outer edge o

each wing. Each pod contained two J-47 turbojet engines t

assist in heavyweight takeoffs and to provide backup powe

for landings, climbing, and maintaining desired speeds at high

altitude. The engine controls for the jet engines were placed

above and to the left of the copilot’s position. The earlier B-36

were all returned to Convair for addition of the J-47 engines

Both the forward crew compartment and the aft gunne

compartment were pressurized. The two compartments wer

connected by an 85-foot-long, 25-inch diameter, pressurized

tube. A small rail-mounted pull cart moved crew member

between compartments.

The initial design underwent several major change

throughout the aircraft’s development. The landing gear on

the first prototype had two large single wheels measuring 11

inches in diameter, which limited the bomber to runways tha

had a concrete thickness of 221⁄2 inches—and there were onl

three such military airfields in the United States. But th

main problem with the oversized landing gear wheels was th

enormous pressure exerted on the gear struts when the plan

landed. One of the landing struts collapsed on an early tes

flight, which drove the development of a four-wheel truck uni

that greatly reduced both the landing “footprint” and th

stress exerted on the strut. The four-wheel truck configuration

required a nominal 300-foot-wide runway to safel

accommodate the aircraft’s turning radius, although a skilled

pilot could maneuver the airplane around with considerabl

less operating space. After several attempts to meet the Ai

Force’s requirements for armament, Convair outfitted th

bomber with an elaborate defensive weapons system consistin

36
of sixteen 20-millimeter (mm) cannons mounted in pairs in

eight remotely controlled retractable turrets. The protectiv

armament provided a full 360-degree protection radius whil

the bomber was in flight. A built-in contour arrangement on

the turrets prevented the guns from firing at the tall vertica

stabilizer. The standard bomber crew consisted of 15 members

three pilots (aircraft commander, pilot, and copilot), thre

bombing-navigation specialists (radar bombard ier, navigator

co-observer), two flight engineers, two radio/ electron ic warfar

operators, and five gunners. In the forward compartment, th

copilot, co-observer, and number two radio operator wer

trained to operate and fire the remote turrets. Flight crew

requirements varied with the aircraft configuration, however

The RB-36D/F/H reconnaissance model, for example, carried

a 23-man crew. In this version, the forward bomb bay wa

enclosed and pressurized for additional equipment an

operating space.

The development of the B-36 was not only an engineerin

challenge; it was a hard-fought battle within and between th

services. The Navy set out to discredit strategic airpower in a

attempt to get a larger share of the defense budget for its ow

fleet programs, large carriers in particular. A “well-meaning

Navy “team player” anonymously wrote a document, ostensib l

without the knowledge of his superiors, detailing 55 seriou

accusations against the development of the B-36 and it

proponents. The document was traced to the Office of th

Secretary of the Navy and, finally, to Cedric R. Worth , a

assistant to the Undersecretary of the Navy. Worth finall

admitted that he had largely made up the accusations. 

lengthy investigation into the possibility that there had bee

higher-level direction to create and distribute the documen

ended with Mr. Worth accepting sole blame.

Within a short time, the infamous “Admirals’ Revolt 

erupted and the B-36 was targeted again. The furor was ove

money and global priorities. The Air Force, SAC in particula

had won most of the budget battles for strategic systems. In

1958, nine years after this brouhaha, defense budge

summaries would reflect that aircraft and missiles ha

accounted for 58 percent of all DOD expenditures between th

start of the Korean War and 1958. A whopping 67 percent ha

37
been allocated to the Air Force from 1954 to 1958. Th

admirals likely had reason to be frustrated and angry, bu

they simply had not made their strategic case strong enough

or soon enough.

Rep. Carl Vinson, chairman of the House Armed Service

Committee, called for hearings “to deal with all facts relatin

to matters involving the B-36 bomber.” Vinson, who reputedl

had a fondness for the Navy, declared that he would “let th

chips fall where they may.” He called 35 witnesses, amon

which were virtually every senior general officer in the Ai

Force and the leaders of every major aircraft company

General Kenney testified that he had at first favored the B-36

In 1946, after becoming commander of SAC, he becam

convinced that the bomber was not performing satisfactoril

a nd recommended that production be halted. By 1948, however

a dramatic turnaround had occurred and “It suddenly becam

evident that we had available in the B-36 the fastest

longest-ranged, best altitude-performing, and heavies

load-carrying plane in the world.”

To a man, the Air Force leadership testified that the B-3

was “the heart of any global air striking force.” Gen Henry H

“Hap” Arnold was called out of retirement to testify. H

chastised the Committee and the detractors of the B-36 fo

attempting to disrupt the development of an immediat

strategic deterrence requirement and for giving away secre

performance information in open hearings. Arnold’s testimon

was powerful and sharp. He gave credit to Generals Kenne

and LeMay for their candor and for taking the respon sibilit

to build a believable strategic fighting force while other

“whimper ed” about what “ought” to be done. Arnold’s appear

ance before the Vinson Committee was his last; he died

shortly afterward.

There was an attempt to play the future B-47 against th

B-36. LeMay said he would take the B-36 now and take hi

chances with the unproven jet technology when the tim

came. Others testifying included Generals Carl A. Spaatz, Hoy

S. Vandenberg, Lauris Norstad, and Nathen Twining, along with

the Secretary of the Air Force, W. Stuart Symington ; eac

testified strongly for the B-3 6.

38
Finally, the Navy

s Mr. Worth was called to testify, unde

oath, before the Committee. During his testimony, he made 

startling revelation—he had been a newspaper reporter an

Hollywood script writer before being appointed to the Nav

Department. The Navy was embarrassed, Worth was severel

censured, and the hearings were concluded. The battle for th

B-36 was won.

On 26 June 1948, the first of the largest and heavies

bombers ever built up to that time, the B-36A, was delivered

to SAC’s 7th Bombardment Wing at Carswell AFB, Texas. B

the end of the year, 35 aircraft had been delivered. SAC

celebrated the success of the program by staging a long-rang

navigation and bombing mission that extended from taking of

at Carswell through dropping a 10,000-pound “dummy” bom

in the Pacific Ocean near the Hawaiian Islands and returnin

to Carswell. The unrefueled mission covered 8,100 miles in

351⁄2 hours. The mission was, in a way, a “LeMay triumph” in

that the bomber made an approach over Honolulu undetected

by the local air defense system—on 7 December 1948!

Early in 1949, another B-36 crew set a long-distance record

of 9,600 miles. The B-36 covered the distance in 43 hours, 3

minutes. Recalling these “feats” of aerial accomplishmen

brought the fond memory of a nonstop flight from Guam t

Biggs AFB, Texas, my crew made in 1955. That trip took 3

hours, 40 minutes. There was little doubt that the vast Sovie

communicatio ns monitoring system was taking note of thes

and other similar demonstrations of long-range strategic “reach.”

There were several follow-on “test” versions and modification

of the B-36. One such version was the proposed “C” model

which had six turboprop engines on the forward edge of th

wings; each extended some ten feet from the leading edge. Th

variable discharge turbine (VDT) turboprops would have booste

the bomber’s airspeed to 410 MPH and a service ceiling o

45,000 feet, enhancing its “over the target” dash speed. An

initial order of 34 aircraft was canceled when the engine failed

to deliver the promised performance. The overall B-36 program

followed a precarious path of indecision even after it had won

its political battles, budget costs being the persistent enemy

The Soviets, however, in their inimitable way, boosted th

bomber program into new life with the Berlin Blockade

39
prompting Secretary Symington to direct full production of th

original contract. Following the retrofitting of all B-36s wit

the J-47 engines, the B-36F, H, and J configurations cam

along. These included newer R-4360-53 engines with mor

power and reliability. The K-3A radar bombing system wa

added to provide for both precision radar and visual bombin

capability. Some of the bomb bay systems were modified t

carry the MK-17 thermonuclear bomb, the largest eve

developed. It weighed 42,000 lbs and measured 241⁄2 feet in

length. The B-36J “Featherweight” modification program

reduced the aircraft’s weight appreciably by removing all o

the 20-mm retractable turrets except the tail gun, thereb

reducing the crew requirement (to 13) and by reducing “drag

on the airplane by replacing the large gunner’s blisters wit

flush windows or plugs. The “J” model had an increased

range, higher speed (418 MPH at 37,500 ft), and a servic

ceiling of 43,600 feet. The FICON (Fighter-Conveyor) modifica

tion was made on 11 aircraft assigned to the 99th Strategi

Recon Wing at Fairchild AFB, near Spokane, Washington. Desig

nated the GRB-36D/F, these bombers were modified to carr

and retrieve the F-84E and, later, the RF-84K reconnaissance

fighter aircraft as an extension of the RB-36’s reconnaissanc

capability. The GRB-36 could take off with the RF-84

“tucked” in its bomb bay, fly a nominal radius of 2,810 mile

and launch the “parasite” fighter at 25,000 feet. The RF-84K

carrying five cameras and four 50-caliber guns, weighed

29,500 lbs at release.

The tactic added approximately 1,100 miles to th

reconnaissan ce-fighter’s radius of flight. It could fly to a targe

area, take pictures, and dash back to the “mother ship.” In

late 1955, after 170 successful launches and retrievals, th

unit was declared combat-ready with 10 GRB-36s and 2

RF-84Ks. After a year, however, the program was suddenl

canceled. A similar pilot program, called Tom-Tom, featured

modified RB-36s and RF-84Ks mated with a wing-tip launc

and retrieval system. The program proved workable, but wit

considerable risk and fatigue on the part of both aircraft.

Convair developed the prototype YB-60, an eight-jet

swept-wing version of the B-36. Its performance was 

quantum leap over the B-36, but it did not compete favorabl

40
with the performance of the prototype B-52. Convair als

“toyed with” developing a nuclear-powered version of th

B-36—the NB-36H. It did not use nuclear power, but it carried

an onboard nuclear reactor to test radiation shielding and th

potential effects of radiation on the crew and the aircraft. Th

cumbersome 12-inch-thick cockpit window glass, and th

closed-circuit television system designed to monitor th

engines, proved too costly, cumbersome, and inefficient. Afte

47 flights, the program was canceled.

Lastly, a large-body passenger-cargo version of the B-3

configuration—the XC-99—was flown in 1947. Its oversized

fuselage could carry four hundred combat troops or 50 tons o

cargo. Only one XC-99 was built, but it was used extensivel

during the Korean War to haul cargo back and forth acros

the United States. After the war, it continued to operate unde

Military Air Transport Service (MATS) until 1957. The XC-9

was retired to its permanent “pedestal” at Kelly AFB, near Sa

Antonio, Texas. Pan American Airways had placed an option

order to buy three C-99s for their Hawaii route, but canceled

it when they determined that there was insufficient passenge

traffic to support the aircraft’s large capacity.

Maintaining and flying the B-36 took on a life of its own fo

the maintenance teams and combat crews associated with th

complex bomber. While it was relatively easy and straight

forward to fly, and incredibly “forgiving” of human errors, i

nevertheless required an inordinate amount of maintenance

care, and preparation to operate. The maintenance crew chie

and team were required to be fully coordinated with the fligh

crew. The aircraft status and maintenance information

“hand-off” from ground to flight crew was essential. The comple 

electrical, hydraulic, fuel, engine, avionics, communications

and flight control systems required that flight crew member

be expertly knowledgeable in their operation. Consequently

B-36 combat crews tended to be highly stable with minima

crew changes over extended periods of time—often years. Crew

coordination was critical to the success of every mission. Lik

the long flights, operational preflight by the combat crew wa

also long and extensive. Preflight began four hours before th

scheduled takeoff time. The pilots conducted their routin

checks: walkaround, struts, tire inflation, fuel and oil leaks

41
propellers for nicks, control surfaces, and general condition

The flight engineers had by far the most comprehensiv

preflight checks, allowing little time for weather interference o

maintenance problems. They had to crawl into the wings an

check for fuel and oil leaks and any signs of engine or fligh

control problems. Severe weather only added to the difficult

of their task. They also climbed into the cavernous wheel well

to check all of the control linkages and hydraulic lines. Th

copilot (3d pilot) was tasked to measure (dip-stick) all the fue

tanks against the planned fuel load for the mission. Since thi

was accomplished from the top of the wing, weather condition

could make it a “sporty” exercise. The remainder of the crew

conducted their respective systems checks, ranging from

routine to very complex; when practice bombs were to b

dropped or the guns were to be practice-fired, then considerabl

detail had to be given to those systems. Engine start wa

initiated 45 minutes before the scheduled takeoff time

(Today’s jet aircraft would already be airborne and at altitude.

Taxiing and steering the huge “monster” was relatively easy

the main concern being wing tip clearance for moving through

other aircraft. The pilots had excellent visibility, but sa

approximately 70 feet in front of the main gear, making i

necessary to constantly ensure that the area 180 degree

around and at least 250 feet wide was clear to move th

“beast.” Takeoffs in the B-36 were extremely pleasant an

smooth. The power of the six pusher engines and the four jet

provided all the thrust necessary to launch the airplane at an

gross weight. For its size, it also handled extremely well in

turns and during climb-out; its control pressures wer

exceptionally light. Likewise, both approach and landing wer

very straightforward and fun—under most conditions! Cross

winds constituted the obvious exception, given the B-36’s wid

wing spread and tall tail. The final approach was usually a

about 125 MPH, with touchdown at 100 MPH for a smoot

landing. Even with the cockpit “floating” at 40 feet above th

ground at touchdown, visibility and control were excellen

Thunderstorms, a “few” engines out, or a fire, however

created an entirely different environment. No pilot or crew

member who ever served aboard the mighty ten-engin

42
aircraft had anything but respect for her capability an

safety—but mainly for the unique pleasure of flying with her.

For further reading, the B-36 enthusiast should rea

Peacemaker: History of the B-36 (Prologue by Lt Gen Harr

Goldsworthy); Six Churning and Four Burning, a three-par

series “reflection” by Gen James V. (“Jim”) Edmundson; an

B-36 in Action, by Meyers K. Jacobsen and Ray Wagner. Th

words quoted here are those of Gen James V. Goldsworthy.

The public relations people dubbed the B-36, this gentle giant, the

Peacemaker, a name that never caught on with the crews, and it

droned through the skies of the world until February 1959 without

dropping a bomb or firing a shot in anger. The jet age left the aircraft

obsolete after a relatively short life span, and when it was flown to the

boneyard, it was the end of a proud era of heavy bombers powered by

reciprocating engines. Technology passed it by and left it outperformed, but never out-classed. The B-36 wasn’t an agile bird—in

fact, at times it could be downright ponderous—but it was honest.

Crews had confidence that it would get there and bring them home. It

was modified and abused, always pressed to come up with more

performance. And it seemed to respond with more than anyone had

the right to expect. If its crews did not always love it, they surely

respected it. And perhaps the Peacemaker wasn’t so bad after all. We

will never know what the course of world events would have been

without the B-36 standing ready to deliver its awesome load to any

point in the world in a few short hours.

The B-36 never dropped a bomb in combat during its te

years of active duty, but it remained ready and capable; SAC

owned over 150 B/RB-36s by the end of 1950. However, th

bomber was held out of the Korean War as it continued t

perform its nuclear deterrent role. In August and Septembe

1953, after the Korean truce, SAC sent a flight of B-36s to th

Far East, landing airplanes in Japan, Okinawa, and Guam t

demonstrate US resolve to back peace in the region.

A total of 385 B-36s of various models and configuration

were delivered to the Air Force. The last B-36, a “J” mode

Featherweight, was retired from the 95th Bomb Wing, Bigg

AFB, Texas, on 12 February 1959. Its final flight was made t

Fort Worth, Texas, to be placed on permanent display. A few

others were given to airports and museums around th

country. The best-preserved B-36 resides comfortably, in

“mint condition,” inside the Air Force Museum at Wright

Patterson AFB, Ohio.

43
B-47 Stratojet. The Army Air Corps initiated a request in

1943 for the aircraft industry to study the feasibility of a

all-jet bomber. The Germans had already begun work on je

propulsion engines (they were flying a jet fighter-bombe

before World War II ended) and the British were far ahead o

the Americans in developing jet fighter and bomber prototypes 

In 1944, the Air Corps called for a bomber aircraft that would

fly at least 500 MPH. Five manufacturers promptly submitted

preliminary designs. North American offered the XB-45, whic

in the end became the first all-jet bomber to go into production

It operated successfully as a light bomber and reconnaissanc

aircraft in Korea and through the 1950s. Convair, whic

presented the most competitive bomber, was not considered

because it had won the B-24 and B-36 contracts (the “wealth

had to be “spread around”). Martin and Northrop offered

acceptable designs, but their aircraft were not large enough t

perform truly strategic bombing missions. Northrop’s “flyin

wing” design was determined to be too radical. (It showed u

again in the 1990s as the B-2.)

Boeing won the competition with its XB-47, a six-engin

aircraft having a swept-wing design and a bicycle landing gea

configuration. Boeing engineers leaned heavily on their B-2

design concepts, although the B-29 had little in common

physically, with the B-47. However, the stressed webbed-win

design, landing gear struts, low-pressure hydraulic system

and 28-volt DC electrical system found places in the B-4

design. The early major shortfall in the bomber was the low

technology of its jet engines. The excessively long “spool-up

time on the initial J-35 engine was critical in landin

situations. And the total thrust of the six J-35s was rated a

only 21,500 lbs for the planned 125,000-lb aircraft. Conse

quen tly, carrying high power on approaches mandated landin

at higher than desired speed and with longer roll-out. A dra

chute to offset the high power settings during approach, and 

brake chute to slow the aircraft after touchdown, were added

An antiskid brake system provided an additional safety factor

As development proceeded, J-47 GE engines, each havin

5,200 lbs of thrust, replaced the underpowered J-35. Th

bomber began to look more practical to the designer and t

the Air Force. The final design gave the bomber a 107-foo

44
fuselage and a 116-foot wingspan. The wing had a

extraordinary flexible deflection of 171⁄2 feet, tip-to-tip. Th

bicycle landing gear was chosen because the thin wing

couldn’t accommodate wheel wells. The gear was retracted

into the fuselage section.

The three crew members—pilot, copilot, radar-navigator—

were “tucked” into a small, pressurized cabin compartmen

minimizing the need for a large pressurization and environ

mental system. In September 1948, the Air Force placed a

order for ten B-47As for capabilities testing. The aircraft wer

assembled at Boeing’s facility in Wichita, Kansas, adjacent t

McConnell AFB where the first Air Force B-47 crew trainin

would eventually take place. This concept had prove

successful with the Convair B-36 assembly facility collocated

with the first recipient unit, the 7th Bomb Wing, at Carswel

AFB, Texas. The B-47’s refueling capability was initiall

supported by the KC-97 “Stratotanker” and later by th

KC-135 (a Boeing 707). “Fly Away” kits were designed and buil

allowing the B-47 to deploy anywhere in the world, carryin

along spare parts and equipment. The B-47 filled a large ga

in the US strategic inventory and gave war planners broa

flexibility in covering the Soviet target complex. SAC would

eventually reach a peak of 1,367 B-47s and an additional 17

RB-47 reconnaissance aircraft.

The B-47, not unlike virtually all military weapons systems

was designed for one principal mission; and not unlik

virtually all military weapons systems, it was employed in

other, sometimes radical, ways to meet new threats. In orde

to attain greater distances with heavier payloads, the gros

weight of the aircraft grew from the original 125,000 lbs t

230,000 lbs for taxi and takeoff, with a maximum in-fligh

weight of 226,000 lbs. These additional requirements placed

considerable stress and fatigue on the airframe, shortening it

life span. Additional strain was placed on the aircraft with th

introduction of “pop-up” maneuvers designed to avoid Sovie

antiaircraft missiles along single integrated operation pla

(SIOP) routes and target area s.

In the “pop-up” maneuver, the B-47 flew into a defended

area at 300-500 feet altitude and at high speed. The aircraf

then climbed rapidly to about 18,000 feet, dropped a nuclea

45
weapon on the target, made a sharp turn, and descended

back down to treetop altitude. This maneuver enabled th

bomber to avoid the blast effects from the released bomb.

In a similar maneuver Low Altitude Bombing System

(LABS), the aircraft flew into the target area at low altitud

and high speed but pulled up into a half loop just prior to th

bomb release point. The pilot then released the bomb, an

rolled the aircraft out in an “Immelmann” maneuver to avoid

the impact of the nuclear explosion.

Neither large bombers nor bomber pilots were well suited fo

these fighter-type aerobatics. They subjected the airplane t

potentially severe “g” forces, inducing even further fatigue

SAC reported six B-47 crashes in a one-month period durin

the Spring of 1958, all attributed to wear and fatigue in win

skins and fuselage fittings.

Maj Gen Earl G. Peck, former SAC Chief of Staff, and a B-4

aircraft commander as a young Air Force captain, described

the experience of flying the B-47:

The Boeing B-47, officially the “Stratojet,” was one of those airplanes

that never seemed to acquire any sort of affectionate nickname. This

probably stems from the fact that although it was often admired,

respected, cursed, or even feared, it was almost never loved. In fact, I

think it would be fair to say that it tended to separate the “men” from

the “boys!” It was relatively difficult to land, terribly unforgiving of

mistakes or inattention, subject to control reversal at high speeds, and

suffered from horrible roll-due-to-yaw characteristics. Cross-wind

landings and takeoffs were sporty, and in-flight discrepancies were the

rule rather than exception. All in all, the B-47 was a very demanding

machine for her three-man crew. But, its idiosyncrasies notwithstanding, the B-47 served as a mainstay of the SAC deterrent posture

during the darkest years of the protracted Cold War. Thus a typical

B-47 mission was comprised of all those activities that the crew had to

master if the system was to serve as a credible deterrent. They were

also the same things that would be required during a nuclear strike

mission if deterrence failed: high- and low-level navigation and weapon

delivery, aerial refueling, electronic countermeasures against air and

ground threats, positive control procedures, exercising the tail-mount ed

20-mm guns, emergency procedures, cell (formation) tactics, and

others I am sure I have forgotten. Crew planning for a mission took up

most of the day prior and was elaborately precise and detailed. The

crew was expected to approach each training sortie with the same

meticulous professionalism that would be required for an actual strike

mission. And professionalism keynoted the mission attitude that

prevailed from inception to completion. On the day of the flight, [there

46
were] an exhaustive series of inspections—station, exterior, and

interior...perusal of forms, equipment, and safety items...walkaround

inspection of aircraft...system-by-system interior inspection. Finally

finding the bird fit, we would leave it and wend our way to base ops for

a weather briefing and to compute takeoff data and file a clearance.

Taxiing the B-47 was relatively easy. Takeoff in a B-47 was, to my

knowledge, unique in its day, for the airplane in effect was “flying”

shortly after beginning the roll. This could be attributed to the flexible

wings, which permitted the outriggers to lift off as soon as the airflow

generated any appreciable lift. Somewhat ungainly on the ground, the

B-47 assumed a classic grace in flight. Aerial refueling presented its

own difficulties, stemming principally from incompatibility with the

piston-driven KC-97 tankers then in use. Very-high-wing loading and

associated stall speeds in the B-47 meant that the KC-97 was taxed to

provide any respectable margin above stall while hooked up. [The

KC-97 more often than not had to maintain a continuous descent

during air refueling with the B-47 and the B-52 in order for the heavy

bombers to maintain sufficient airspeed to avoid stalling out]. On one

particularly dark night, in fact, my airplane stalled off the boom and

fluttered gracefully down 5,000 feet of murk before it became a flying

machine again! Looking back, although much of the flying I did in the

B-47 was not particularly enjoyable—it was in fact tedious,

demanding, even grueling at times—it was terribly rewarding in terms

of professional satisfaction. I felt I was doing an important job and

took great pride in doing it well in a machine capable of performing. As

with most airplanes, the advertised performance figures (4,000

nautical-mile range, 600 MPH speed, 40,000 feet service ceiling) didn’t

mean much to the guys flying the B-47. It was only important that it

would go fast and far enough to enable a group of professional,

dedicated and gutsy SAC crews to provide the bulk of American

deterrent strength during the middle and late 1950s. As the decade

waned, the B-47 was gradually supplemented and later supplanted by

the B-52 as SAC’s “big stick”; but the “Stratojet” had written an

important chapter in military history.

B-52 Stratofortress. The B-47 created a success story fo

Boeing and big bombers. Walter Boyne, author of Boeing B-52

A Documentary History, credited Boeing’s bold vision an

several young Air Force officers (who were not overly inhibite

by the existing bureaucracy) with the key decisions that led t

the development of the B-52. “Similarly,” he said, “senio

officers were still permitted to exercise the vision, imagination

and leadership which were then and are still the primar

reasons for their existence.” A careful review of bombe

histories, particularly the B-70, B-58, B-1, and, to som

extent the FB-111, confirms Boyne’s assessment to a larg

47
extent. The B-2 may become a victim of the same syndrome o

too many experts, too many built-in requirements, and to

many politicians. “The Congress, in its desire to know

everything about a weapon system in real time, has put itsel

in the position of a restaurant customer checking in with th

chef every step of the way, sampling, tasting, directing

changing his mind, and making decisions long before th

menu is defined.”

In 1946, Boeing was finishing off the B-29, had a few order

for the B-50, and was concentrating on the first true all-je

strategic bomber, the B-47. The Army Air Corps, anticipatin

the demise over time of the large reciprocating engine and th

“experimental” XB-36, placed a requirement on the aviation

industry for a “second generation” heavy bomber. Boein

engineers, however, could not produce a design that exceeded

the B-36. The main shortfall was in turbojet engin

technology. The B-47 had experienced the same problem in it

initial development—insufficient power to fly the airplane a

the desired gross weights. Finally, Pratt & Whitney agreed t

build the largest jet engine they possibly could. The J-5

would be a quantum leap above the J-47, and would initiall

produce 10,000 lbs of thrust. The production model B-52B

engines would be improved to produce 12,100 lbs thrust each

and eventually the “F” model J-57 would be rated at 13,75

lbs of thrust.

Convair attempted to meet the heavy jet bomber requiremen 

with its jet-powered YB-36, but fell short. Boeing, howeve

presented a proposal for an eight-jet aircraft built along th

lines of the B-47. This bomber would be much larger, having 

gross weight of roughly 330,000 lbs, an eight-thousand-mil

range carrying a 10,000-lb bomb, and a cruising speed of 57

MPH. The first prototype rolled out in November 1951. An

ecstatic General LeMay went to work to get the necessar

funding to produce the bomber. He also directed changes in

the design; specifically, he did not like the B-47-type tandem

seating for the pilots. Boeing therefore changed the cockpit t

a side-by-side configuration for better crew coordination. Soon

after flight tests began to show progress, LeMay directed tha

range and gross weight be increased. The later “G” and “H

models eventually reached takeoff gross weights of 488,00

48
lbs, and the B-52H would be powered by a state-of-the-ar

TF33-P-3 engine having a flat-rated thrust of 17,000 lbs.

The first production B-52 was the “B” model, delivered t

SAC on 29 June 1955. It was indeed a large jet aircraft, with 

185-foot wingspan and a fuselage measuring 140 feet in

length. The bomb bay, measuring 28 feet by 6 feet, could

accommodate any of the nuclear weapons in the inventory

The flexible wing, similar in design to the B-47, has a

incredible deflection of 32 feet! This feature was at first ver

disconcerting to the pilots when they glanced back at th

wings during considerable turbulence (the wings would b

slowly flapping). The top of the original tail section was 48 fee

from the ground. In the first B-52s, the two pilots were seated

in the upper cockpit with the navigator and radar-navigato

(bombardier) directly below them. The electromagneti

countermeasures officer (ECM), later renamed the electroni

warfare officer (EWO), sat behind the pilots at the rear of th

pressurized compartment. The tail gunner was tightly fitted in

a pressurized compartment located in the rearmost end of th

fuselage tail section. The tail gunner’s was not a happ

position—particularly due to the cramped quarters, but als

because of the bomber’s twisting movement and “see-saw

motions even in the lightest of turbulence. Egress by the tai

gunner from the aircraft in an emergency also presented 

special problem: He had to pull an ejection handle to remov

the tail section, then manually bail out. This would normall

work if the aircraft had not rolled into a nose-down dive, in

which case he could have difficulty in overcoming the ‘g’ force

enough to pull himself out. Air sickness was common an

morale amongst tail gunners was terrible—yet, amazingly

they flew on! Later, in the “G” and “H” models, the gunner wa

moved to the forward pressurized compartment and position e

in an ejection seat side-by-side with the EWO. There, the tai

gunner became a “happy camper.” The earlier bombers wer

equipped with four 50-caliber machine guns in the tail. Th

later “H” model was fitted with a six-barrel M-61 20-mm

Gatling gun. The fire control system, with either gu

configuration, has the capability to search, detect, acquire

track, and compute the angle of attack of an incoming aircraf

The gunner also is equipped with a periscope gunsight fo

49
manual aiming and firing; in the 

G and H models, he has 

rear-projection television monitor. The original B-52 bombing

navigation system was a rudimentary radar tracking an

plotting device with a visual optics backup.

Modifications and enhancements, however, have kept th

B-52 current with state-of-the-art technology. The MA-6

serves as the bomber’s baseline bomb-nav system. The late

B-52G and H models were equipped with an Electro-optica

Viewing System (EVS)—forward-looking infrared (FLIR) an

low-light-level TV sensors integrated into bombing, navigation

and pilot directional systems. Like the B-47, the B-52 i

equipped with a bicycle landing gear; but the B-52 version i

considerably more complex. The “quadricycle” landing gea

which consists of four wheels in front and four in rear

retracts into the fuselage. The front wheels are steerable fo

taxi and takeoff, and both front and rear can be canted on

final approach to accommodate a crosswind. The pilot ca

then land the aircraft in a “crabbed” position, touching dow

with the aircraft at an angle to the centerline of the runway. I

takes some getting used to, but it works.

The electrical system consists of four gear-driven constant

speed generators providing 200/115-volt AC power an

transformer rectifiers for DC requirements. The B-52 wa

initially outfitted with 1,000-gallon wingtip fuel tanks; late

with three-thousand-gallon tanks. The tanks provided win

stability as well as additional fuel. The later “G” and “H

models were equipped with smaller 700-gallon tanks, mainl

for wing stability. Within two years of first delivery, thre

B-52s flew nonstop around the world—24,235 miles—in 4

hours and 19 minutes. With Maj Gen Archie Olds, commande

of 15th Air Force, in the lead aircraft, the B-52s took off from

Castle AFB, California, on 16 January 1957. They landed a

March AFB, California, within two minutes of their origina

planned ETA, with all 24 engines of the three aircraft stil

running smoothly and only one inoperative alternator on on

of the planes.

The B-52G and H models, virtually “new” airplanes, wer

“luxurious” compared to the 449 “B” through “F” mode

predecessors. They were some 15,000 lbs (dry weight) lighte

but the aircraft’s gross weight was increased to 488,000 lbs

50
The fuel was stored in a 

wet wing, rather than the now

discarded rubberized fuel cells. Fuel capacity was increased t

over 310,000 lbs. Ailerons were removed, and lateral contro

was shifted to the wing spoilers. Crew comfort was enhanced

by the addition of more comfortable seats and an improved ai

conditioning system. The EWO position was upgraded wit

more sophisticated tracking and jamming systems. The pilot

were initially given the advanced capability radar (ACR), whic

provided terrain avoidance, antijamming, and enhance

low-level mapping capabilities. The ACR system employed

small (5-inch) television monitors at each pilot’s position an

at the navigator’s station. The ACR was followed shortly by th

EVS, which generated greater confidence and provided greate

comfort for a night-weather, low-level flying mission.

All of the B-52 systems underwent constant upgrades an

major modifications to keep up with potential enemy threat

and evolving technologies. The “H” model B-52 had littl

resemblance to the first production aircraft, except in overal

profile appearance. And even that changed when the vertica

stabilizer was shortened to 40 feet on the “G” and “H” model

as a growing array of radar and sensor antennas began t

“crop-up” around the outer fuselage surfaces. The B-52 ha

accommodated an ever-increasing volume of weapon systems:

— entire inventory of free-fall and chute-retarded nuclea

bombs;

— GAM-72 Quail missile decoy (which with its 13-ft lengt

and 5-ft wingspan replicated the image of a B-52 to a

enemy radar);

— GAM-77/AGM-28 Hound Dog air-launched attack

missile, one carried under each wing of the Gs and Hs

and equipped with a nuclear warhead;

— GAM-87 Skybolt nuclear warhead air-launched ballisti

missile, also carried and launched from under the wing;

— AGM-69A short-range attack missile (SRAM) air-launche

missile, up to 20 carried under the wings and in the bom

bay;

— air-breathing turbojet air-launched cruise missil

(ALCM), launched from under the wing and from th

bomb bay.

51
And the bomber had the incredible capability to carry 10

five-hundred-pound conventional bombs, which it did routinel

in Vietnam. The last of 744 B-52s was an “H” model, Seria

Number 61-040, delivered on 26 October 1962—thirty-seve

years ago at the time of this writing. And many of them ar

still flying! I vividly remember the thrill of my crew travelin

from Ramey AFB, Puerto Rico, to the Boeing plant in Wichita

Kansas, in the Fall of 1959 to take delivery of a “brand-spankin

new” B-52G bomber and flying it back home. It had the sam

feeling as picking up a new car at the dealership. It eve

smelled new! That was a whopping forty years ago! So it is n

wonder that many sons of fathers before them have flown an

are still flying the mighty B-52. Unlike its SAC predecessor

the B-36 and B-47, both of which were held out of combat, th

B-52 performed in Vietnam—and performed well.

The initial unit cost of the B-52A was astronomical—$29.

million each for the three that were built. However, becaus

the aircraft provided such promise, the decision was made t

proceed with development and production. By the time th

first “B” models came off the line, the cost of the aircraft ha

dropped to $14.4 million each, and the B-52E eventua ll

cost $5.9 million per aircraft. The last of the B-52 series, th

“H” model, was priced a bit higher—$9.2 million—due to exten

sive rework and advanced technologies. Undeniably, the B-5

remains the longest living bomber in US military aviation

history.

Taxiing a fully loaded B-52G out onto the runway, settin

the brakes, and pushing the throttles forward to full power fo

takeoff had a feeling of exhilaration like no other. I am sur

fighter pilots experience the same feeling, but for a much

shorter time. Flying the reliable B-36 had its special feeling o

power, mass, and control; but the B-52 had it all—and speed

to go with it. It was easy to taxi at all gross weights

directional control during takeoff was excellent, and climb-ou

was very straightforward and smooth. Landing in a crosswin

could be “sporty,” due to the tall vertical stabilizer (either 4

or 48 feet); but the crosswind landing gear feature, once take

into confidence, compensated very well. Flying at high altitud

was a routine procedure, with the exception of large ai

refueling operations, which required a determined skill. Th

52
24-hour Chromedome sorties required taking on approximatel

110,000 lbs of fuel—an operation th at demanded 20 to 3

minutes of sheer flying skill and determination. At relativel

light gross weights and high altitude (30,000 to 35,000 feet)

the airplane tended to “float” through the air; a small powe

adjustment while you were approaching and connecting wit

the KC-135 tanker would move you about rapidly.

Once the fuel began to fill the wings and the aircraft took on

more weight, it became very controllable—except in turbulence

of course! Turbulence required another feat of skill to manag

the “flapping wings.” Flying the B-52 at extremely low levels—

which the B-52 was not originally designed to do—placed th

pilots and crew into another challenging dimension. Droppin

from 35,000 feet to 500 feet—300 feet on some routes—a

night, and maintaining that flying environment for severa

hundred miles required every ounce of confidence in th

airplane and faith in its flight and navigation instruments tha

one could muster. I flew the B-52 before ACR and EVS, s

“head and eyeballs” were mostly out of the cockpit while w

cross-checked the altimeter as we roared across the federa

aviation administration (FAA) approved (and traffic clear?

routes of the US countryside. Importantly, the six crew

members were fully integrated into the B-52’s weapon system

There was hardly a minute during a tightly planned an

coordinated 14- or 20-hour training mission when th

majority of the crew were not interacting with each other

High-altitude navigation, low-level navigation, bomb runs, ai

refueling, electromagnetic countermeasure testing agains

simulated radar sites, gunnery practice, fighter intercepts—

each activity required attentive concentration. Consequently

“wagging home” the carefully prepared (but undisturbed) fligh

lunch box which had been delivered fresh to the aircraft b

the in-flight kitchen just before takeoff was the norm rathe

than the exception. (The kids were always delighted to se

what marvels of “goodies” [and soggy sandwiches] dad ha

brought back.)

B-58 Hustler. If the B-52 is the oldest and longest livin

bomber in US military history, the B-58 had one of th

shortest “active duty” tours—and fewer than one hundred

production aircraft rolled off the assembly line. But it was th

53
only supersonic strategic bomber to enter the Western world

s

operational inventory. As B-36 production at the Genera

Dynamics Convair facility at Fort Worth came to a halt, th

company offered a competitive proposal to develop and build 

supersonic medium bomber as a “gap filler” for the anticipated

phaseout of the B-47. The Air Force and SAC accepted th

proposal, and the first B-58 was delivered at Carswell AFB

Texas, on 1 August 1960. The relatively small bomber, 96.

feet in length with a 56.8-foot wingspan, was powered by fou

J-79-5A engines, each producing 10,000 lbs of flat-rated

thrust—15,600 lbs in afterburner. The pilot, navigator, an

defensive systems operator (DSO) were positioned in separat

tandem cockpits that were in fact encapsulated seats fo

ejection. The bomber was “all airplane”; it carried a 62-foot-lo n 

pod—which had the appearance of an afterthought—beneat

its underside to accommodate a nuclear weapon and addition a

fuel. To safeguard against a blowout or a flat tire causing th

aircraft to crush the pod, the landing gear included smalle

steel wheels inset between the sets of tires.

The B-58 also suffered from other problems, including on

that required the pilot to continuously transfer fuel durin

taxiing to prevent the airplane from tipping on its tail. Anothe

required the installation of water-filled cooling tanks through

which fuel and hydraulic oil were routed to prevent evaporatio

caused by the extraordinary heat generated within the plan

at high speeds. General LeMay was never really satisfied wit

the B-58; it required an extraordinary number of in-fligh

refuelings to complete a mission, and it severely taxed 

disproportionate share of other SAC resources to maintain it

combat readiness. And, as one story had it, LeMay flew th

bomber, declared that it was too small and added, “it didn’

fit my ‘arse’.”

As a high-speed aircraft, and for its size, the B-58 was 

state-of-the-art product. It broke record after record over th

course of its life. Only five months after SAC took delivery, 

B-58 established six international speed and payload records

all in a single flight, on 12 January 1961. Pilot Maj Henry 

Deutschendorf, navigator Maj William L. Polhemus, and DSO

Capt Raymond R. Wagner, flying out of Edwards AFB withou

a payload, averaged 1,200 MPH in two laps over a 1,243-mil

54
course. The same crew and aircraft proceeded to fly fiv

additional speed patterns with varying load configuration

averaging between 1,200 MPH and 1,061 MPH. Incidentally

Major Deutschendorf, now deceased, was the father of folk

singer John Denver.

A B-58 piloted by Maj Elmer E. Murphy set a sustained

speed record of 1,302 MPH on 10 May 1961. Less than 

month later, however, tragedy struck Major Murphy and hi

crew when their bomber crashed during a 3 Jun

demonstration flight at the Paris Air Show; all three crew

members were killed.

On 26 May 1961, a B-58 piloted by Maj William Payne flew

nonstop from New York to Paris—4,612 miles—in 3 hours, 1

minutes, 41 seconds. On 16 October 1963, Maj Henry Kubesch

and his crew from the 305th Bomb Wing flew nonstop from

Tokyo to London—8,028 miles—in 8 hours, 35 minutes, 2

seconds. Five aerial refuelings were required to complete th

mission. In all, the B-58 set 15 world records for speed an

altitude. Its achievements include winning the Bendix, Blerio

Harmon, Mackey, and Thompson trophies. Meanwhile, th

B-58 bomber and crew force remained combat-ready

performing training missions and remaining alert as a part o

the 43d Bombardment Wing at Carswell AFB, Texas, and th

305th Bombardment Wing at Bunker Hill (later name

Grissom) AFB, Indiana. Later B-58s were modified to carr

high-resolution cameras in the nose of the pod for performin

a reconnaissance role.

SAC reached a peak of 94 assigned B-58s in 1964, just on

year before the Johnson Administration directed phaseout o

the aircraft. Having had a record-breaking career, the las

B-58 was retired on 16 January 1970.

FB-111A Aardvark. This “fighter-bomber,” initially the F -11

with an unlikely nickname, became an equally unlikel

addition to the strategic nuclear force. The FB-111A, a relativ el

small two-man bomber version of the swing-wing F-11

fighter, was built by General Dynamics at its Fort Wort

facility. The two-man side-by-side fighter-bomber was literall

forced into the SAC scheme of manned-bomber capabilities

By 1965, the B-47s had been retired to the “boneyard,” th

B-52Cs and Fs were being retired rather than refurbished

55
and the B-58 was programmed to phase out by the end of th

decade. The future of the manned bomber was largely in

question. Defense Secretary Robert S. McNamara, with th

cloud of Vietnam lingering heavily over military decisions

budgets, and emotions, stated in 1964: “Various options ar

open for replacing the B-52s in the ‘seventies, if a replacemen

requirement exists at that time. In case supersonic speed an

high altitude are needed for the future strategic bomber, th

experience gained from three different Mach 3 planes

currently in the research and development stage, will b

available—the XB-70, the A-11 and the SR-71.” In actuality

the B-70 materialized only in the form of two prototypes, th

A-11 was not pursued (it could not have been seriousl

considered as a strategic bomber in the first place), and th

SR-71 (a derivative of the A-11) became a productive reconnais

sance platform. McNamara went on to say, “In case low-leve

penetration capabilities turn out to be the key to futur

bomber effectiveness, the lessons being learned from th

F-111, for example, will be applicable.” (Perhaps of no smal

significance, the F-111 was being built in Texas, the home o

President Lyndon B. Johnson.)

The next year (8 December 1965), Secretary McNamar

announced that all B-58s and the B-52Cs, Ds, Es, and F

would be phased out by June 1971. The announcement would

mean the eventual disposal of 449 B-52 bombers, bu

continued employment of the “D” models in Vietnam delayed

their retirement—and the remaining “Fs”—until 1978.

Reflect for a moment on Secretary McNamara’s 8 Decembe

1965 projection to “replace” the B-52 in the 1970s. Som

“35-plus” years later, the venerable and durable B-52 is sti

flying and still a vital part of US war-planning an

war-fighting strategy. Sixty-six of these bombers, equipped a

ALCM carriers, are projected to be around until at least th

year 2020!

On 10 December 1965, McNamara announced that th

Department of Defense would budget for the purchase of 21

FB-111s. A spin-off of the controversial TFX or F-111, th

FB-111 was to “replace” the retiring B-47 and B-58 fleets, an

the older B-52s. The Navy had already rejected the F-111 fo

failing to meet the limitations and requirements of its carrie

56
operations. Two months into the Nixon administration, on 1

March 1969, Secretary of Defense Melvin Laird announced

that the FB-111 procurement would be limited to 60

operational aircraft and “a few” replacement aircraft. He said

the FB-111 did not meet the requirements for an inter

continental bomber, but that the government was committed

to purchase 60 of them to “salvage” the invested cost.

The first FB-111 was delivered to the 43d Bomb Group a

Carswell AFB on 8 October 1969. Preceded by the B-36 an

the B-58, the FB-111 became the third “new-type” bombe

delivered to the SAC base from the General Dynamics plan

next door. The new “medium” strategic bomber had two Prat

& Whitney TF-30-P-7 engines capable of delivering 20,350 lb

of thrust with afterburner. The aircraft was relatively small

with a fuselage length of approximately 73 feet, a full

extended wingspan of 70 feet, a fully swept wingspan of 3

feet, 11 inches, and a gross weight of 100,000 lbs. It wa

designed to fly at speeds up to Mach 2.5 at 36,000 feet. It ha

a service ceiling of 60,000 feet and a range of 4,100 mile

(with external tanks). The bomber’s delivery capabilit

included up to four SRAM air-to-surface missiles on externa

pylons and two in the bomb bay; or six gravity nuclear bombs

or a combination of missiles and bombs.

The last FB-111 was delivered on 30 June 1971, after whic

the fighter-bombers were dispersed to two operational wings

the 509th Bombardment Wing at Pease AFB, New Hampshire

and the 380th Bombardment Wing at Plattsburgh AFB, New

York. The 340th Bomb Group was subsequently inactivated.

Having nothing else to back up the rapidly depletin

manned bomber leg of the Triad, SAC reluctantly accepted th

FB-111 as a strategic bomber. General LeMay had fought th

suggestion to buy the FB-111 from the time it was made. H

argued that it was “not a long-range bomber” and, with onl

two engines, it lacked the payload-carrying capacity to delive

an adequate number of weapons for the incurred cost. Th

incurred cost being, amongst other things, “too many refuelin

tankers to support its combat missions.” To partially mitigat

the aircraft’s range limitations, they were positioned on th

northeast coast requiring a shorter mission and fewer tanker

to reach Soviet targets.

57
According to Lt Gen (then Col) Dick Burpee, one of the earl

FB-111 wing commanders, the lives of the Cold Warriors wh

maintained and flew the FB-111s were difficult at best. Firs

the attitude of senior staff officers at Headquarters SAC

generally reflected that of General LeMay: the aircraft simpl

wasn’t a long-range strategic bomber, and it required far to

much attention and detail to employ it in training and comba

missions. All of the tactical directives employing SAC bomber

were written for the B-52; they did not fit the FB-111.

Burpee went on to conclude that, while the “little” bombe

could not carry the payload of the B-52, and while it was als

a maintenance and reliability “nightmare,” it had excellen

bombing accuracy when it did get to a target area. It

navigation systems, carried over from its fighter heritage an

designed to run for 20 hours between parts failures, wer

lucky to operate for four hours; and spare parts for th

FB-111 received the lowest priority in the SAC maintenanc

scheme of things. In the early operating days of the littl

fighter-bomber, at least five “cannibalizations” (removing an

using parts from other aircraft) were the norm in getting 

sortie under way.

Reportedly, the FB-111’s maintenance reliability was so ba

that when one bomb wing was scheduled for an operationa

readiness inspection (ORI), the other wing provided spar

parts. The parts were “rushed” to a rendezvous point at Whit

River Junction, New Hampshire, (a midpoint between the tw

wings’ operating locations) for the wing undergoing inspection

to pick them up.

The major complaint was that SAC Headquarters was s

indifferent to FB-111’s role that the two operating units wer

virtually left to their own devices to remain combat ready

Yet, the two units were required to respond to the sam

rigorous taskings and evaluations that the “trusted” B-52

KC-135, and ICBM units had to respond to—and in the sam

professional manner!

There was also an assertion that undue pressure wa

placed on the FB-111 units. During one six-month period, fo

example, the 509th Bomb Wing was subjected to thre

readiness inspections—by the 8th Air Force Inspector General

58
the SAC Inspector General, and the Headquarters Air Forc

Inspector General. Overkill? Probably!

General Burpee relates a story about being called in t

discuss FB-111 reliability problems with Gen John C. Meyer

then commander of SAC. After Burpee explained that th

FB-111’s reliability problem was purely a lack of spare part

and higher headquarters apathy about the bomber, the CINC

commented that it was hard for him to distinguish betwee

the unfortunate and the incompetent. This audience with th

SAC leader left a young wing commander despondent at th

time; but to his surprise, and in a matter of a few days, ther

was a sudden interest in the welfare and utility of the “ugl

duckling” FB-111. The two FB-111 “lonely stepchildren” bom

wings suddenly found themselves in the limelight of attention

and support. Thereafter, the FB-111, though still “suspect” a

a real contributor to the strategic nuclear forces, received th

necessary attention and support to maintain combat relia

bility. Burpee concludes the story:

The Cold Warriors who flew and maintained the FB-111 never had

their spirits broken or never failed to perform their duty. They

maintained the nuclear alert status and learned how to bomb without

any automatic navigation and radar aids. They could do this and still

get “reliable bombs by B-52 standards.” Before the FB-111 was finally

retired from the SAC bomber force, it had received the most modern

advanced bombing and navigation upgrades and became a highly

reliable and skilled precision bomber. Though it never gained the

respect of the heavy bomber “mafia,” it did contribute greatly to Cold

War deterrence.

The B-1 . Soon after his inauguration, President Ronal

Reagan directed “resurrection” of the controversial B-1 strate gi

bomber that had been canceled by President Carter. Th

Carter administration had opted to shift US deterrent strateg

in favor of the more survivable standoff cruise missile. Th

Reagan decision was undoubtedly more internationall

political than militarily practical. He wanted to send a stron

message to the Soviets that his pre-election declarations wer

more than rhetoric.

Unfortunately, Rockwell International and dozens of supportin

industry contractors had all but dismantled the tooling and th

organization that had been designed to build the bomber. Fou

preproduction B-1 bombers had been built, however, and al

59
original design requirements had been met. Operational tes

flights had demonstrated its ability to fly at Mach 2, fast-reac

for base escape, penetrate at high and low altitudes and a

high speeds, fire and control both gravity and cruise missil

weapons, and maintain a stable air refueling capability. The B-1’

defensive avionics, frequency surveillance, and warning an

electronic countermeasures were at the most modern state-of

the-art level. The bomber’s four General Electric F101-GE-10

afterburner turbofan engines were capable of deliverin

30,000 lbs of thrust. The crew consisted of two pilots and tw

offensive systems operators (navigator-bombardier and elec

tronic warfare controller).

The bomber had a fuselage length of 150 feet, 21⁄2 inches, 

fully extended wingspan of 136 feet, 81⁄2 inches, a fully swept

back wingspan of 78 feet, 21⁄2 inches, and a gross weight o

389,800 lbs. The B-1 had a design speed of Mach 2.1 at 50,00

feet and an unrefueled range of 6,100 miles. Its weapo

delivery capability included three internal bomb bays, whic

could accommodate either 24 SRAMs on rotary dispensers o

75,000 lbs of gravity bombs.

The revived B-1 program called for essentially the sam

configuration and performance requirements as the origina

versions, which were based on early 20-year-old desig

technology. The revised production program encountered tw

major problems:

1. The cost of the bomber rose exponentially with th

retooling and reorganizing required after a four-year hiatus.

2. The aircraft presented multiple problems with fuel leaks

electronics, and overall performance. Although being flown b

combat crews in two bomb wings, the B-1 was integrated int

the SIOP for only a few years before being negotiated out a

part of a nuclear arms reduction program.

The Tanker

A major contributor to the concept of flexible response an

extra-long-range bomber planning was the development o

aerial refueling. SAC moved rapidly from the “probe an

drogue” flexible hose concept passed on from the Royal Ai

60
Force (RAF) to the largest, most reliable, and most efficient ai

refueling force in the world. The venerable World War II B-2

became the first air refueling “tanker.” It was followed b

KB-50A and, finally, an aircraft fully developed as an aeria

tanker—the KC-97. Described briefly below are the variou

configurations of the SAC tanker fleet subsequent to th

modified B-29 and B-50.

KC-97 Stratotanker. SAC’s first “designed” tanker, the KC-9

Stratotanker evolved from the Boeing Stratocruiser commercia

airliner of the 1950s and, later, the Air Force transpor

version, the C-97. The Air Force began purchasing KC-9

tankers in 1950. By 1958, the inventory included 780 of thes

aircraft; they remained in service until 1965. The KC-97 ha

an operating range of 4,300 miles—an excellent range

considering that it had to burn 115/145 aviation gas in it

engines while carrying JP-4 for off-loading to B-47s an

B-52s. The tanker’s main limitations were in altitude an

airspeed: The bombers had to descend to low altitudes in

order to rendezvous with the KC-97, and they had to fly slowl

in order to “hook-up” with the tanker. These requirement

caused the bombers to burn much more fuel than the

burned at their usual higher altitudes and higher speeds.

The KC-135. Also derived from a Boeing-built commercia

airliner (the 707), the KC-135 became SAC’s first all-je

tanker. First test-flown as a tanker on 31 August 1956, i

became operational less than a year later, on 28 June 1957; i

is still flying actively today, 30 years later. The tanker i

capable of off-loading 120,000 lbs of fuel and flying a range o

3,000 miles. The original 135s were equipped with the basi

Pratt & Whitney J-47 engine with water injection to assist in

takeoff. Later, the J-57 was installed; it stood the test for 2

years before being replaced in 1981 by the CFM-56 turbofa

engine at a cost of approximately $4 million per aircraft ($

million per engine).

The Air Force Reserve Forces, operating KC-135s in direc

support of SAC and other Air Force components, upgraded

their tankers with the less expensive (but much improved ove

the original) JT-3D-3B turbofan engine. Both engines wer

predicted to extend the KC-135’s life to 27,000 flying hour

and the year 2020. Boeing delivered a total of 820 KC-13

61
tankers, several of which were converted to RCs (for reconnais

sa nce) or ECs (for airborne command and control an

electronic warfare operations).

SAC brought women into KC-135 flight operations in th

early 1980s, first as copilots, navigators, boom operators, an

crew chiefs. The copilots eventually became aircraft com

mand ers. The first “all-female” KC-135 crew flew an operation a

mission on 10 June 1982. Capt Kelly S. C. Hamilton , SAC’

first female KC-135 aircraft commander, with copilot Lt Lind

Martin and instructor navigator Capt Cathy Bacon , navigato

Lt Diane Oswald , and boom operator Sgt Jackie Hale 

off-loaded fuel to a B-52 in a five-hour training mission. SAC

noted that the flight was “token” in nature and would no

become the norm; developing a program of all-female crew

would in fact defeat the whole concept of integrating wome

into all phases of combat crew operations.

My experience with the KC/EC-135, having logged ove

three thousand hours in the two configurations, was 

pleasant one. I thoroughly enjoyed flying the airplane. It was 

joy to make instrument approaches and landings in th

135—and as the improved engines came along, it became a

even greater pleasure. The 135 has become the latter-da

C-47 “Gooney Bird” of the Air Force, having flown actively an

in large numbers for forty years—and it has a projected life o

another 25 years or more!

KC-10 Extender. McDonnell Douglas won the competition t

develop and produce an extended-range tanker for the Ai

Force. The KC-10 is a derivative of the commercial DC-10, 

tri-jet passenger plane. Following modification of the basi

aircraft, the KC-10 could carry a total of 367,847 lbs of je

fuel—117,829 in newly installed bladder tanks in the lowe

fuselage bay area, the remainder in wing tanks. The KC-1

was capable of off-loading 200,000 lbs of fuel up to 2,20

miles from its launch base and then returning home.

Other major changes to the basic DC-10 included installatio 

of a telescoping air refueling boom and a boom operato

position in the lower aft belly. The position could accommodat

up to three crew members—boom operator, student, an

instructor. The cockpit configuration remained essentially th

same as the commercial version—pilot, copilot, and enginee

62
or navigator. The aircraft was also modified to take on fue

from another tanker, thereby extending its range for refueling

cargo delivery, or passenger missions. The first of fifty KC-10

was delivered on 15 September 1982. No complaints wer

heard from the fortunate young tanker warriors who received

assignments to the new airplane.

Reconnaissance

Keeping a vigilant eye on the enemy—by whatever means—

is the oldest form of intelligence collection. Strategic recon

naissance becomes necessary when access to the enemy’s

borders (or to contacts within its territory) is denied, or whe

the validity of information obtained by agents or extracted

from emigres is in doubt. Aerial reconnaissance by speciall

equipped aircraft or satellites is the essence of strategi

reconnaissance. Long-range aerial reconnaissance dates back

to the US Civil War, when crude balloons were used to spy on

the enemy from above. Balloon reconnaissance came into it

own in World War I, as did airplane reconnaissance. Groun

activity below could be observed and information about tha

activity could be brought back to the field commander.

During World War II, the British and the Germans used

aerial photography to document and report enemy movements

From their airborne platforms, they could also hear radio

transmissions more clearly. These were the earliest forms o

photo intelligence (PHOTINT), and communications intelligenc

(COMINT). The Cold War and the emerging technologies tha

accompanied it—dedicated reconnaissance aircraft an

dedicated collection means—opened a new frontier. Signal

intelligence (SIGINT), which includes telemetry intelligenc

(TELINT), and electronic intelligence (ELINT), entails th

monitoring and collection of nonimaging electromagneti

radiation.

Telemetry guidance signals emanating from missiles an

rockets are picked up by TELINT; radar emissions are th

main signals picked up by ELINT. Technological advances an

refinements in each of these disciplines have continued t

escalate, which has generated a growing demand for bette

63
and more precise information. Major diplomatic, policy

strategic, and tactical decisions are based on collected an

interpreted information derived from strategic reconnaissance

Strategic reconnaissance “grew up” with the Cold War. Th

United States with its allies, and the Soviet Union with it

allies, matched wits throughout the Cold War period, evolvin

collection means and increasing defenses against detection

After the U-2 piloted by Gary Powers was shot down in 1960

both sides refined their activities. Both became even mor

sophisticated and both developed greater finesse; and to 

large extent, both became less provocative.

SAC and the Navy began developing greater strategi

reconnaissance capabilities immediately after World War II

Better strategic reconnaissance was needed to support thei

strategic charter, which increased their planning requirements

By 1948, SAC had two strategic reconnaissance groups o

converted bombers, including 24 RB-17s and 30 RB-29s, fo

long-range aerial surveillance and information collection

Later, the RB-36 and the RB-47 joined the reconnaissanc

mission. Specially stripped “light-weight” RB-36s could rang

over areas of interest at altitudes of 55,000 feet, well above th

MiG-15s’ ceiling at the time. Each of the converted bomber

utilized pressurized compartments in the bomb bay areas t

accommodate specially trained SIGINT and PHOTINT

operators and their equipment. In 1962, SAC took delivery o

its first RC-135 reconnaissance platform. Thereafter, “several

KC-135s were converted to RCs in numerous configurations

The RC-135 provided space for equipment installations

external antennas, and working areas for operators an

technicians. It also had the range necessary to accomplish it

missions from operating bases around the world.

The RC-135 was a welcome relief for the crews that ha

flown for years in the cramped and cold RB-47 bomb ba

“pod.” The Navy began reconnaissance activities in Europ

and the Far East, flying converted PB4Y Privateers (a

outgrowth from the Air Force B-24), along with Lockheed P2V

Neptunes and Martin P4M Mercators. Later, the Navy operated

the Lockheed EC-121 and EP-3B Orion in a variety of ocea

and overland surveillance, photo, and signals collection roles

The EA-3B twin-jet reconnaissance aircraft operated from

64
both carriers and land-based runways, primarily for SIGINT

operations. Suffice to say, all reconnaissance missions wer

highly classified, including the various types of onboard

collection equipment and capabilities. Therefore, thes

unsung Cold Warriors did not receive the publicity o

recognition accorded the other war-fighting forces. Thes

“intelligence warriors” often encountered more of a “Hot War

than a Cold War in carrying out their assigned missions. The

flew against armed and hostile targeted surveillance areas a

well as under severe environmental flying conditions. Th

“Recce” forces frequently had to absorb their tragedies quietly

and to grieve privately over the losses of fellow crewmen

because the losses could not be publicly acknowledged due t

mission classification and sensitivity.

SAC and Navy units consistently exercised the right t

operate over international waters, much to the dismay an

frustration of the Soviets, the Chinese, the North Koreans, an

the Cubans. The “Recce” warriors continued to fly, even at th

risk of hostile action—which did occur! Nor did the Soviet

limit their hostile action to actual “Recce” aircraft; they sho

down two Korean airliners, one over the Barents Sea (whic

crash-landed in Northern Russia), and Korean Air 007 (whic

crashed in the Sea of Japan with 269 passengers and crew

aboard). The belief is that the airliners were falsely identified

as US reconnaissance aircraft.

At least 70 SAC and Navy “Recce” aviators were lost durin

the period. However, due to the sensitivity and continued

classification of US reconnaissance operations, I will limit thi

segment to a brief description of two other dedicate

reconnaissance aircraft.

The U-2. The first worldwide awareness of the U-2 cam

when Gary Powers was shot down over the Soviet Union in

1960. Six years earlier, in 1954, the Central Intelligenc

Agency (CIA) had given the legendary “Kelly” Johnson o

Lockheed Aircraft’s “Skunk Works” the task of developing 

high-altitude, extremely long-range reconnaissance aircraf

Richard Bissell , the agency’s “spy plane guru,” worked closel

with Lockheed and Johnson in designing the new aircraft. I

was dubbed “U” for “utility” to disguise any particular interes

in the engineering development and manufacture of th

65
airplane. By 1 August 1955, the first U-2 was ready to fly. I

had a short fuselage and a wingspan of 80 feet, which made i

difficult to keep the aircraft on the ground during the takeof

roll. Its bicycle-type landing gear was designed to retract int

the fuselage. It had outrigger “pogo stick” wheels that wer

used for takeoff, then dropped when the plane becam

airborne. The U-2 was fully conceived under the auspices o

the CIA and was “developed from scratch” to be a “spy plane

The initial program called for 30 airplanes at a cost of $3

million. The first U-2 pilots, recruited from the Air Force an

the Navy, resigned their commissions and became Lockheed

employees to protect their military backgrounds and thei

mission. Also, they had been “sheep dipped” by the CIA t

expunge their military backgrounds. The initial intended us

of the U-2 was to support the Eisenhower “Open Skies

initiative, which Khrushchev rejected.

Given the resources to conduct surveillance of Soviet ICBM

developments, however, and with persistent assertions of 

“missile gap,” CIA Director Allen Dulles, supported b

Secretary of Defense Thomas Gates , convinced the presiden

that overflight missions ought to be conducted anyway. Whe

he approved the first deep-Russia U-2 overflight, Presiden

Dwight Eisenhower gave a prophetic admonition to CIA

Director Dulles and U-2 manager Bissell: “Well boys, I believ

the country needs this information and I’m going to approve i

But I’ll tell you one thing. Someday one of these machines i

going to get caught and we’re going to have a storm.”

On 1 July 1956, the first U-2 intelligence-gathering fligh

flew over Moscow, Leningrad, and the Baltic Seacoast. Th

Soviets detected the U-2, but could not intercept it at its extrem 

high altitude. Its vast PHOTINT capability photographed 

seven-mile-wide path and brought back phenomenal “real

time” photographic coverage of Russia. The Soviets at firs

lodged secret protests with the State Department. Later, the

were more vocal with the US Embassy in Moscow, demandin

that the United States stop the intrusions. Nikita Khrushche

continued to protest thereafter—until the Powers incident.

The first U-2s were delivered to SAC in June 1957, at th

4028th Strategic Reconnaissance Squadron, Laughlin AFB, in

far Southwest Texas, where transition training took place. Th

66
Air Force

s initial experience with the U-2 was a near-disaster—

five SAC pilots and two Lockheed pilots killed in the first yea

of operation. Eventually, however, the U-2’s mechanica

defects were worked out and the aircraft became a reliabl

collection platform. It continues to operate today, along wit

its advanced successor, the TR-1 .

I was privileged to enjoy a couple of “dollar rides” in the U-2

while serving as commander of the 12th Air Division, to whic

the parent reconnaissance aircraft wing was assigned. Th

thrill of the “slingshot” takeoff and the climb to 80,000 fee

was an exhilaration I had never before experienced—nor eve

after—not to mention the several “porpoising” touch-and-g

landings that followed. Flights such as this by senio

commanders were mostly symbolic, demonstrating to th

“troops” their interest in the systems. But they were als

important from the point of view of “living” in the environment—

if only briefly. Each event in the U-2 experience deepened m

respect for the young fellows who “squeeze” and contort thei

pressure-suited bodies into the cramped cockpit and si

routinely for 12-plus hours, flying incredible missions.

SR-71 Blackbird . The success of the U-2 prompted the CIA

to contract the same team to develop a collection platform tha

could cruise at even higher altitudes and at supersoni

speeds. The initial A-12, created by “Kelly” Johnson’s team

was completed in January 1962; it flew on 26 April. The hug

delta wing twin-engine aircraft was generations ahead in

design, material technologies, and engine propulsion. Thes

factors combined to revolutionize aircraft speed and altitude

The CIA bought fifteen of the A-12s, single-seaters with senso

equipment operated by the pilot. The Air Force gave som

early consideration to buying the A-12 (YF-12) for use as a

interceptor, but opted instead for the SR-71, a “two-seat

reconnaissance platform.

The addition of the second cockpit and a reconnaissanc

systems officer (RSO) greatly relieved the pilot’s workloa

and further amplified the aircraft’s capabilities. The SR-7

program and its operations remain highly classified, wit

most of the aircraft now resting on display pedestals aroun

the country.

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The Intercontinental Ballistic

Missile - ICBM

SM-65 Atlas. The Air Force and SAC won the battle fo

management, deployment, and command and control of th

land-based strategic ICBM programs. The first missil

assigned to SAC, the Snark ground-to-ground system, wa

followed by the Thor ground-to-ground system, was followed

by the intermediate range ballistic missile (IRBM) with 

1,900-mile nuclear warhead delivery range. The Thor

developed and manufactured in the United States, wa

provided to the United Kingdom’s Royal Air Force, and to Ital

and Turkey, as part of NATO’s nuclear deterrence strategy

SAC conducted Thor crew training for the NATO Allies a

Vandenberg AFB. In 1961, SAC and NATO jointly operated 3

Thor missile squadrons across Europe.

The first Atlas squadron was activated on 1 February 195

at Francis E. Warren AFB, Wyoming. Atlas was the first truly

intercontinental ballistic missile, having a range of fiv

thousand miles. It was also very large and cumbersome

measuring 75 feet in height and 10 feet in diameter. With 

single warhead, it had a liftoff weight in excess of 300,000 lbs

President Eisenhower, in response to the pressures of th

“missile gap” hysteria, put a high priority on developing an

deploying the Atlas; it became the personal project of Maj Ge

Bernard Schriever. The system moved rapidly from researc

and development to operational in just three years—a

phenomenal feat, considering the technologies required t

field such a mammoth system. By 1962, SAC had 142 Atla

ICBMs deployed; with Titan I and II and Minuteman develop

ments proving successful, however, all the Atlas weapon

system missiles were retired by June 1965. The Atla

remained for years thereafter as an important heavy-payloa

launch vehicle.

LGM-25 Titan I and Titan II. The two-stage heavy ICBM

development program, begun in 1955, followed the success o

Atlas. Martin Company won the contract to build the Tita

system and launched the first missile on 6 February 1959

The first four test launches were successful, but the next tw

test missiles exploded on the launch pad. Thereafter, th

68
program was deemed successful and development proceeded

The Titan, which measured 110 feet in length with th

warhead attached, was 10 feet in diameter at the first stag

and 8 feet in diameter at the second stage. The missile’s

Aerojet XLR91-AJ liquid propellant engine burned a mixture o

hydrazine and nitrogen tetroxide. With a one-minut

countdown sequence from launch initiation, it lifted a weigh

of 300,000 lbs with a total thrust of 530,000 lbs, sending i

(inertially guided) toward its target at 17,000 MPH to a rang

in excess of six thousand miles. Its four-megaton warhead, th

largest in SAC’s nuclear arsenal, had a target strike accurac

of less than a mile. The SAC inventory reached a peak of 6

Titan Is and 56 Titan IIs deployed in 1963. The Titan I wa

fully deactivated in 1965 as the Minuteman systems came on

line, and the last Titan II complex was deactivated in 1985

Thus was the era of liquid-propelled, heavy ICBMs in the U

war plan brought to an end.

LGM-30A, B, & F Minuteman I, II, and III. Boeing’

Minuteman ICBM was designed specifically as a strategi

weapon system, unlike Atlas and Titan, which were basicall

space launch vehicles first and weapon systems second. Th

system’s engine burns solid propellant, thereby negating th

requirement for collocated launch/maintenance crews. Th

ideal configuration design—continuous system remote check

ou t, missiles placed in vertical launchers, and combat crew

monitoring ten missiles concurrently—took SAC into “push

button warfare,” with near instantaneous response. The dis

persal of the missile silos and launch control centers alon

highways (and off-highway roads) contributes to security an

ease of maintenance. The basic Minuteman design is simpler

lower in cost, and safer than the earlier liquid-propelled engin 

systems—and it will not become obsolete in the near future.

The concept of Minuteman is similar to the early arsena

practice of having cartridges and ammunition that will no

deteriorate rapidly and can therefore be stockpiled and kep

ready for use. SAC eventually deployed one thousan

Minuteman missiles within six wing complexes in the wester

and midwestern United States. The basic missile, whic

measures 54 to 60 feet in length and 6 feet in diameter

operates with a continuously running inertial guidanc

69
system. Reaction time from launch initiation is less than 6

seconds, including automatic opening of the launcher slidin

door. With a 120,000-lb thrust, the missile can project it

warhead 5,500 miles to the target. ICBM systems brought 

new and different dimension to SAC’s combat crew force.

The Cruise Missile

To provide a multiple mission capability to its war-plannin

strategies, the Air Force developed and deployed several type

of air-to-ground attack missiles with the bomber force. Th

GAM-77/AGM-28 Hound Dog was designed as a standof

weapon to “soften” defenses or target complexes up to seve

hundred miles away as the bomber penetrated enem

territory. The Hound Dog, operational with the B-52G and 

models from 1961 to 1976, was equipped with an interna

navigation guidance system that was updated to its actua

position and its intended course of flight just prior to launc

from the B-52. The missile could be programmed to fly to it

target at speeds up to Mach 2.1 and at altitudes from treetop

level to 55,000 feet. It was also unique in that its J-52 engin

could be used to augment the bomber’s power in flight and it

fuel tanks could be topped off from the B-52’s fuel system

prior to launch. The GAM-87 Skybolt air-launched ballisti

missile, developed by Douglas Aircraft Company, Aeroje

General, General Electric, and Nortronics, came into th

inventory in 1959 following a controversial decision process

Programmed to be carried by the B-52 and the British Vulca

bomber, the missile consisted of a two-stage solid propellen

engine that could fly at hypersonic speeds to targets up t

1,000 miles from the launch point. Similar to the Hound Do

strategy, it was designed to be a “roll-back” weapon by th

penetrating bomber force. The Skybolt, never a favorite o

Secretary McNamara due to its checkered development test

and cost overruns, was canceled just as it was proving to be 

reliable weapon.

As Soviet air defenses proliferated, making bomber pene

tration more of a concern, the Air Force turned to anothe

air-to-ground missile to support the B-52s and FB-111s. Th 

70
AGM-69A SRAM , developed by General Dynamics, wa

selected to follow the defeated Skybolt in the early 1970s. Th

SRAM was also developed as a semiballistic air-launched

missile with a Minuteman III equivalent warhead capability

The B-52 could carry up to 20 SRAMs mounted externally an

internally, and could launch the missiles up to one hundred

miles to a target. Its exceptionally short flight time o

nominally “three minutes” (due to its hypersonic rocke

engine) made it virtually invulnerable to radar tracking an

interception by air defenses. SAC ultimately integrated 1,50

SRAMs into the SIOP bomber mission.

Shortly after his inauguration in the Spring of 1977

President Carter canceled production of the B-1 bomber in

favor of developing a long-range cruise missile. The ALCM wa

given the highest priority for weapon system program develop

ment, in turn drastically modifying the Triad’s strategi

bomber leg mission. The ALCM meant that no new strategi

bombers would be built and that the B-52 would become th

cruise missile delivery vehicle, as it had been for the Houn

Dog and SRAM air-to-ground missiles. The major differenc

was that the ALCM would be a “long-range” missile capable o

low-level flight to its target after being launched outsid

enemy air defenses. A competitive flyoff between an airborn

version of the already operational General Dynamics AGM-10

Tomahawk sea-launched cruise missile (SLCM) and 

long-range version of Boeing’s AGM-86A resulted in a win fo

the AGM-86. Boeing won the competitive selection proces

and was awarded a contract to develop the AGM-86B ALCM, 

small unmanned vehicle powered by the 600-lb static thrus

Williams F107-WR-100 turbofan engine and fitted with

retractable wings. The ALCM’s guidance system relied upon

both inertial and preprogrammed navigation systems. Th

preprogrammed terrain matching and comparison system

(TERCOM) can fly the missile and deliver a nuclear warhea

up to 500 MPH and at extremely low altitudes, avoidin

traditional radar detection en route to its target 1,500 mile

into enemy territory.

The B-52G was the first bomber to be equipped with th

ALCM (12 missiles, fitted externally under the wings). Thi

configuration allowed the bomber to launch its missiles safel

71
outside enemy radar detection and then to penetrate at low

level and deliver its internally carried gravity bombs. Th

B-52G (and later, the B-52H) was modified to carry a rotar

launcher within the bomb bay with an additional eight ALCM

in place of gravity weapons. This latter strategy allowed th

bomber to carry 20 ALCM nuclear weapons, each launched

before enemy territory had been penetrated, thereby substan

tially reducing the risk to aircraft and crew. While Carter’s

decision to rely more heavily on the cruise strategy than on

the manned penetrating bomber was contentious amon

bomber advocates, the ALCM later proved to virtuall

overwhelm Soviet defense strategies. The small missiles (2

feet, 9 inches in length, two feet in diameter, with an extended

wingspan of 12 feet), when launched in massive numbers

were capable of saturating Soviet target areas, virtuall

negating any reasonably cost-effective defense measures.

Close behind the ALCM came the development of th

ground-launched cruise missile (GLCM). Utilizing the ALCM’

basic design features, navigation systems, and engine, th

GLCM could be launched from a transporter erector launche

(TEL) and fly 1,500 miles to a target. SAC was given the GLCM

mission, and was authorized to purchase 464 GLCMs fo

deployment with NATO’s theater nuclear forces in Europe. Th

Soviet defense structure was complicated still further and th

balance of power was greatly swayed—a factor that would

provide an important SALT “bargaining chip” in the 1980s.

The Fleet Ballistic Missile

Submarine - SSBN

The Navy had begun work on nuclear-driven submarin

technology as early as 1947, under the leadership of Cap

Hyman G. Rickover . Four years into the design phase of 

nuclear submarine, the Electric Boat Company of Genera

Dynamics was placed under contract to build the firs

reactor-powered submarine. The Mark II thermal reacto

power system was chosen as the “engine.” The keel for th

first boat, the Nautilus, was laid in June 1952; the submarin

was launched on 21 January 1954.

72
The first sea voyage test of the new submarine commenced on

17 January 1955 under the command of Capt Eugene P

Wilkinson with a pensive Rear Admiral Rickover anxiousl

watching the proceedings. The nuclear-powered submarin

performed perfectly, quickly proving that the new power sourc

could drive submarines of virtually any size to unlimite

distances. In the first 21⁄2 years, the Nautilus traveled 62,00

miles—unrefueled and on its first uranium reactor core! In Jul

1958, four years after Nautilus was commissioned, Capt William

R. Anderson guided her from Seattle, Washington, to Portland

England, traveling under the Arctic ice pack.

Nautilus was only a prototype—but with the proof-of-concep

for a nuclear-powered submarine “solved,” the Navy set abou

investigating the possibility that IRBMs and ICBMs could b

launched from a submarine. But the Navy’s attempts to solici

cooperative support from the Air Force and the Army failed

The Air Force had no inclination to join the Navy in developin

a system that would require new techniques designed t

accommodate underwater launches. The Army initially joined

in a project with the Navy to develop the Jupiter IRBM, bu

the liquid-propelled engine was not really compatible wit

submarine operations.

The Navy therefore began to develop its own missile, th

Polaris . With DOD approval, the FBM program to develop th

Polaris got under way in 1956. The program costs would b

astronomical—$120 million for each submarine, with a

estimated $10 billion to build and maintain the estimated

41-submarine fleet. (This is without the cost of the yet-to-b

developed Polaris SLBM.) The goal for the submarine

launched missile was for a solid propellant, two-stage

vertically chambered ballistic missile that could launch from

safe ocean areas and strike most strategic targets within th

Soviet Union. The missile’s warhead would have to be bot

lightweight and powerful.

Concurrent with the development of the nuclear-powered

submarine and the appropriately sized SLBM, the Atomi

Energy Commission (AEC) was working on smaller weapon

for use by Air Force fighter-bombers and Army missiles. Th

defense electronics industry was also perfecting miniatur

inertial navigation units for ballistic missiles, and Dr. Charle

73
Draper at Massachusetts Institute of Technology (MIT) wa

developing a precise navigation plotting system for submarin

use. The Ship’s Inertial Navigation System (SINS), when finall

installed in the Nautilus, could accurately pinpoint th

geographic location of the submerged submarine at any plac

under the ocean—a factor that was critical to a missile’s

onboard inertial guidance system for launching missiles. Whil

Rickover was closely managing the SSBN development, Rea

Adm William Raborn became the Navy’s chief SLBM

developer; he skillfully guided the creation of the entire Polari

system, component by component, until it became a reality.

The Navy “launched” into full production of SSBN boats—

with continuing emphasis on deeper operational submarines

quieter engines, and larger SLBM capacities. The US

Lafayette was the first of 31 boats built to carry the Polaris A3

as well as the Poseidon C3 with MIRV warheads. The nex

class of SSBNs began with the USS Ohio’s improved nois

reduction characteristics and a capacity for carrying 2

SLBMs, including the Trident C4 and D5 missiles. It i

important to mention that the Navy’s nuclear attack sub

marines (SSN) also played important roles in the Cold War

not only as “hunters-trackers” of Soviet submarines and surfac

vessels, and as escorts for the boomer force, but also a

offensive nuclear warriors. The SSN fleet is armed with 

variety of tactical nuclear weapons, including the torped

tube-launched Tomahawk and the Harpoon SLCM, wit

standoff ranges up to 1,400 miles and capabilities to strik

targets well inside the Soviet Union.

Lafayette Class. Thirty-one boats were built during th

1960s and 1970s. The first eight were equipped with 1

Polaris A2 SLBMs; the remaining 23 could carry 16 Polaris A3

MIRV SLBMs. All were later converted to carry the Poseidon

C4 missiles. The huge submarines, which measure 425 feet in

length and 33 feet across the beam, have a submerge

displacement of 8,250 tons. The boats have four 21-inch torped

tubes for defensive operations. The 15,000-horsepower nuclea

propulsion engine provides power through a single propelle

shaft to achieve speeds of 20 knots on the surface and 3

knots submerged. The normal crew complement of th

Lafayette class boats is 140. The last 12 boats were enlarged

74
in size and given improved underwater 

stealth features

Referred to as Benjamin Franklin-class boats, the crew siz

was increased to 168. They can deliver the Trident C4 SLBM.

Ohio Class. The Navy launched the USS Ohio in 1979. Much

larger than its predecessor, it measures 560 feet in length an

42 feet across the beam; it displaces 18,700 tons submerged

Like the Lafayette, the Ohio’s 60,000-horsepower nuclear engin

delivers power through a single propeller shaft. The Ohio 

submerged speed is in excess of 30 knots and it carries a crew o

133. It also carries 24 Trident I C4 or Trident II D5 SLBMs.

UGM-27 Polaris A3 . Sea-launched ballistic missiles hav

kept pace with nuclear submarine technology since the firs

Polaris A1 was developed in the late 1950s. The two-stag

missile is 31 ft, 6 inches long, has a 54-inch diameter, weigh

35,000 lbs, and has a range of 2,855 miles. The Polaris A3 , las

in the series, has been retired and is no longer operational—with

either the US Navy or the British Royal Navy.

UGM-73 Poseidon C3. All Lafayette and Franklin boats wer

originally outfitted with the Poseidon C3, a 65,000-pound

34-foot by 74-inch, two-stage missile capable of reaching target

up to 3,230 miles away with a payload of ten 50Kt RVs or 2,48

miles away with 14 MIRV weapons. Operational since 1971, th

C3 has the same relative range as the Polaris, but with twice th

payload and a 100% improvement in accuracy. The Poseidon

gave way to the Trident weapon system in the late 1980s.

UGM-93 Trident I C4/ Trident II D5. With the same dimension

as the Poseidon, the Trident I C4 weighs 70,000 lbs. It is 

three-stage solid propellant missile capable of delivering eigh

Mark 4 100Kt MIRV weapons to targets up to 4,400 mile

from its launch point. The Lafayette and Franklin boats wer

capable of carrying 16 Tridents, and the remaining Ohio-clas

boats currently carry 24 missiles. The British have buil

several new SSBNs to carry the Trident with their ow

warhead design.

SAC Alert Force Operations

The Soviets, who had not pursued strategic airpower unde

Stalin, began to demonstrate significant progress in th

75
development of strategic bombers and ICBMs, and in spac

vehicles, as was dramatically demonstrated by sputnik i

1957. The immediate perception was that SAC airfields could

be vulnerable to relatively short-warning-time attacks from

incoming missiles. The United States, which had driven Cold

War strategic policy for a decade, found itself in the position o

responding to Soviet policy. SAC planners countered with

the ground alert program. SAC grew steadily, to a peak o

3,207 tactical aircraft and 262,609 personnel by 1959. Th

com man d’s personnel strength rose to 282,723 in 1962 a

the Minuteman ICBM system came on line with its comba

crew force .

This author recalled Gen George Washington’s order durin

the crucial days of the Revolutionary War, “Put none bu

Americans on guard tonight,” as his B-36 crew was among th

first to be placed on SAC ground alert on that first day o

October in 1957. We were then introduced to the newl

refurbished World War II base operations building at Bigg

AFB, near El Paso, Texas. Most of SAC’s combat-ready crew

had pulled brief ground alert duty tours during rotatio

periods to Alaska, Guam, Spain, North Africa, and the United

Kingdom. But they had not pulled ground alert duty at thei

home base, except for the two- or three-day stint during th

Hungary crisis in 1956. And those earlier experiences were fo

predetermined periods. They were also “novel”; that is

welcome changes in our routine. This “new” duty became 

challenging experience for combat crew, support teams, an

their families. The frequency of ground alert schedules initiall

was not terribly rigorous. We sort of “slipped” into the routine

slowly and without too much concern that this situatio

would continue for very long. Little did we suspect that th

early alert confinement periods (24–72 hours) soon would

become a steady routine of three full days (seven day

eventually, and with ever-increasing frequency) of living within

a tightly secured facility, often within a few miles of our home

and families. The ground alert posture was at first a new

experience and, as such, it helped in fighting the boredom

that soon set in.

As someone once said, “SAC alert tours amount to hour

and days of boredom, punctuated by moments of stark terro

76
and fear.

 The stark terror and fear occurred when the klaxon

horn” sounded; we had to get to our airplanes as rapidly a

possible, get into our positions, turn on aircraft power, an

prepare to start engines, to taxi, or to take off for war. Th

klaxon horn held a special agitation for alert crews: first, i

was the most noxious and brain-freezing protracted spurt o

noise ever devised and, second, its daunting signal could hav

meant any number of things—all bad. Fortunately, the million

or more klaxon signals heard by Cold Warriors performin

alert duty over the years ended in exercises that did not tak

the country to war.

Alert duty also often tested human interpersonal relationship

to extreme limits. Getting along with a dozen or more peopl

on a flight mission where everyone was personally engaged in

his specialty was a far cry from living in close confinemen

with the same group day after day. Amazingly, though, in m

own experience there was very little agitation between crew

members; and when problems did occur, they were easil

resolved. I served on the bomber crew force for ten years an

the missile crew force for three years—and with only thre

different combat crews. The only crew member changes tha

occurred were those where an individual was given a

opportunity to upgrade to a position of greater responsibility.

I often marveled then, and I reflect even more so today, a

how well young officers (and some older ones) and enlisted

men and women responded to those challenges—how trul

professional they were! And, importantly, legions more of th

same quality continued to follow the initial Cold Warriors—no

drafted and not conscripted to train and serve in those tough

and demanding jobs, they were all volunteers sincerely servin

their country. This incredible process continued, literally fo

generations as sons came along to fly the same B-52 bombe

or KC-135 tanker that their fathers had flown before them. A

the ground alert posture persisted over the years, creatur

comforts continued to improve. The small black-and-whit

TVs were eventually replaced with current video technologie

and movie releases; mess hall food became gourmet meals; al

academic proficiency training was conducted while performin

alert (as opposed to an extra duty after alert tours); an

self-improvement correspondence courses were augmented

77
with college-level classroom courses. The Minuteman Missil

Education Program provided full-time graduate degre

programs conducted by leading university faculties brought t

the base. Of course, the enduring game of cards transcended

all the years—bridge, poker, hearts, and many ingeniou

creations never before heard of, or thereafter!

The underpinning of the long days and years of standin

alert was the seriousness of the requirement. There was th

occasional “why don’t they do it this way?” or “that way,” bu

seldom “why are we doing this?” I regret only that there wa

not a greater attempt to characterize the “why.” Not that w

did not accept the requirement to be there, but in my min

few really understood the deep ideological, cultural, and socia

differences in the world that brought the United States an

the Soviet Union to that place. The issues were seldom

discussed. The Soviet Cold Warriors, I have learned later, wer

broadly indoctrinated—perhaps not entirely forthrightly o

truth fully, but they were given considerable words of moti

vating impetus to serve their cause. Larger factors than thei

lifestyles and social conditions, although never really tested

generally overcame personal motives at most levels to perform

at very high standards. Hence, my motivation in this “Reflec

tions” effort has been to review and recognize the many wh

served as Cold Warriors, and to inform those who were not s

fortunate as to serve, that a great job was accomplished—

and wh y!

In 1958, President Eisenhower directed that SAC begin

dispersing its bombers to other Air Force (non-SAC) base

within the continental United States (CONUS). This maneuve

was designed to further enhance US flexible response strategy—

greatly in response to the bomber gap and missile ga

perceptions—and to further complicate the Soviets’ ICBM

targeting problem.

Also in 1958, SAC adopted its paradoxical slogan, Peace i

Our Profession. It was termed paradoxical by some who foun

it inconceivable that the proprietor of the world’s larges

nuclear weapon arsenal could characterize itself as a profes

sional peacemaker! During the Christmas season of 1957, 

50-foot Christmas tree was erected in front of Headquarter

SAC in Omaha. The bulbs were to be lighted one at a time

78
each reflecting a SAC airman who had agreed to reenlis

before the end of the year. Civil engineering was called upon t

place a sign on the tree, Maintaining Peace is Our Profession

but the sign painter found that he did not have enough spac

to accommodate all the words.

According to John Bohn, the venerable SAC historian, wh

unfortunately passed away in 1995, the project officers for th

“Tree of Peace” project decided to drop the word “Maintaining

in the interest of space. Col Charley Van Vliet of Eighth Ai

Force liked the modified sign so much that he had a simila

one erected over the main entrance to Westover AFB. As th

Peace is Our Profession slogan began to show up at other SAC

bases, the news media began to publish it as the SAC sloga

and the command officially adopted it.

In the early 1960s, the airborne alert concept (Chromedome

was to be implemented after two years of testing. Gen Thoma

S. Power, commander in chief, Strategic Air Comman

(CINCSAC) had testified before Congress in February 1959:

We, in Strategic Air Command have developed a system known as

airborne alert where we maintain airplanes in the air 24 hours a day,

loaded with bombs, on station, ready to go to the target . . . I feel

strongly that we must get on with this airborne alert . . . We must

impress Mr. Khrushchev that we have it, and that he cannot strike

this country with impunity.

Used effectively to stem the Cuban Crisis , the Chromedom

tactic challenged the B-52 combat crew force to reach new

heights: Take off fully loaded with fuel and nuclear weapons (a

gross weight of almost 300,000 lbs), fly a predesignated rout

and refuel twice in the air (taking on 120,000 lbs of fue

during each refueling), and remain airborne until relieve

approximately 25 hours later by the next Chromedome aircraft.

The key element of the Chromedome mission was t

position the bombers in such standoff orbiting patterns tha

they could respond in a relatively short time to predesignated

targets in the Soviet Union if directed by the NCA. Thes

creative initiatives gave new meaning to flexible response: th

ability to employ strategic weapons in a selective an

controlled manner, as well as in full retaliation if warranted

while providing added survivability to the bomber and crew

force. No strategy, however, can ignore the realities of forc

79
structure and performance—and they remained the ke

ingredients, provided by the steady influx of professiona

performers who came into the strategic forces to serve.

Several other initiatives, designed to enhance survivabilit

and response, were taken during those apprehensive years. A

SAC achieved a full one-third alert posture in May 1960 an

followed with the continuous airborne command pos

operation Looking Glass in February 1961, a “full-up” comman

and control center was created onboard a converted KC-13

(Boeing 707) aircraft. These aircraft, designated “EC-135,

were equipped with the latest and most advanced communica

tions equipment. The flying command post remained in the ai

continuously, 24 hours per day. This amounted to thre

aircraft per day flying approximately eight or nine hou

“shifts.” The airborne aircraft could not land until properl

relieved by a successor aircraft that was in the air an

operationally ready to assume the command and contro

responsibilities—that is, to take control of the unbroke

“communications link.” Should the relief aircraft fail to tak

off due to maintenance, weather, or other problems, th

airborne Looking Glass would be air-refueled by a standb

alert tanker and continue on for another full airborne shift.

The Looking Glass could communicate with SAC force

worldwide as well as with the JCS command center, SAC

underground command post, all unit command posts, and al

SAC aircraft. By April 1967, Looking Glass crews possessed

the capability to launch selected Minuteman ICBMs via a

airborne launch control system (ALCS). A SAC general office

with special training in emergency war order (EWO) imple

m entation and in nuclear command and control procedures

was in command of each Looking Glass aircraft. This “airborn

emergency actions officer” (AEAO), had authority to act for an

on behalf of the commander in chief, SAC, in any confirmed

wartime emergency. Indeed, should the president and the NC

become incapacitated, the AEOA could act for them.

The AEAO responsibilities constituted “additional duty” fo

these general officers—each had other day-to-day assignmen ts

either within the SAC headquarters staff or as a numbered Ai

Force or Air Division commander stationed at a SAC bas

somewhere in the CONUS. These “field” generals would fly int

80
SAC headquarters and perform their AEAO duties for three o

four days, then return to their primary jobs. If the genera

officer was also a pilot, he was required to become qualified in

the EC-135 Looking Glass aircraft and to log a specified

number of takeoffs, approaches, and landings in order t

maintain proficiency. This added requirement delighted thes

particular AEAOs, since most of them had moved on beyon

actively flying after being promoted to general officer.

Early in the Looking Glass program, the SAC general

assigned to AEAO duty were veterans of World War II and/o

Korea. By the mid-1970s, virtually all SAC generals assigned

to fly the airborne command post were Cold War veterans—

former combat crew members from either the bomber, tanker

reconnaissance, or missile force. The post-attack comman

control system (PACCS), comprised of EC-135 aircraft, wa

closely coupled with Looking Glass. PACCS stood alert a

designated SAC bases to augment the “Glass” during nationa

emergencies. The PACCS aircraft would fly to preplanned orbi

positions across the United States to form a “daisy chain

communications relay network. On 1 November 1975, SAC

was given the added responsibility of managing the president’s

National Emergency Airborne Command Posts (NEAC)

NEAC’s aircraft included four E-4Bs (Boeing 747) equipped

with communications systems common to Looking Glass an

having the capability to span the frequency spectrum from

very low frequency (VLF) to super high frequency (SHF). Thi

capability allowed the onboard control team to have contac

with virtually every nuclear weapons delivery system. Th

communications systems were also “hardened” against electro 

magnetic pulse (EMP) effects.

The E-4B’s automated data processing equipment provided

the capability to process, store, display, and print comman

and control information. The data processing system wa

integrated with all strategic ground command, control

communications, and intelligence (C 4I) systems, greatl

enhancing the onboard ability to direct strategic force

worldwide. The aircraft’s large interior contains 4,350 squar

feet, divided into six separate working compartments. A larg

crew of specialists could operate and maintain the equipmen

81
array in support of the president and his staff when they wer

airborne during national emergencies.

The media promptly dubbed the E-4B the “Doomsda

Plane.” To exercise the NEAC systems, the E-4Bs wer

periodically integrated into the daily Looking Glass flyin

schedule, flying with the scheduled Glass crew aboard for tha

sortie. This was a pleasant departure from the normal EC-13

Looking Glass routine, and it provided a completely differen

onboard operating environment for the AEAO and th

command and control team. The E-4B was truly a dream fo

SAC’s Looking Glass teams to fly aboard and to operate. Th

huge aircraft’s incredibly smooth stability in flight, and it

spacious living conditions, were a far cry from the EC-135.

No one at the time of its implementation would hav

believed that the Looking Glass airborne alert operation would

continue for almost 30 years—which it did! The operation wa

ongoing until 24 July 1990, when the United States becam

relatively confident that the threat of Soviet attack was n

longer imminent.

The continuous airborne presence of the Looking Glass wit

a general officer and a war-fighting command and contro

team on board added immeasurably to the deterrence postur

of the United States by giving the Soviet high command 

constant worry regarding its potential intent. The Lookin

Glass mission has assumed a ground alert posture sinc

1990, with periodic airborne alert sorties to exercise th

various systems and remain constantly ready.

Among other Cold War readiness initiatives implemented in

1961, the ground alert posture was increased to 50 percent o

the bombers and tankers being combat-loaded and committed

to a 15-minute takeoff response time. SAC combat crew

members found even more demands on their lives with th

escalating alert postures. The norm became seven days on

alert, either in their home base alert facility or at a deployed

base. When they came off alert, the crews would fly a 14- t

20-hour combat training mission that had been planned

during the week on alert. Then they would get a few days o

“free” time before repeating the routine—as soon as the nex

week in many cases. Looking back, I marvel at how it was al

accomplished—by thousands of young men and women

82
Morale was more than reasonably high, and retention rates o

quality troops, both officers and enlisted personnel, remained

the highest ever.

ICBM combat crew alert was yet another dimension of Cold

Warrior dedication and performance. Though the concept o

missiles was entirely new to SAC veterans, they adapted

quickly to the ICBM weapon systems. Snark, Bomarc, Thor

Atlas, Titan, and Minuteman came into SAC operations a

smoothly as new aircraft systems had come in over the years

New squadron and wing organizations were formed aroun

the new weapon systems. Most of the new missile units took

the designators of heroic World War II bomber wings, thu

sustaining their heritage. SAC organized the missile comba

crews in the same manner that had worked for years in th

bomber and tanker crew force. Standardized, uniformed, an

“numbered” combat crews were formed to meet the specifi

operational requirements of particular weapon systems—

missile combat crew commander (MCCM), deputy crew com

m ander, pilot, copilot, and so forth. And, just as in the air crew

force, missile crews trained together, worked together, and live

together while honing their coordination in the same manner a

a bomber crew with nuclear weapons in the bomb bay.

The number of crew members required to man an Atla 

or Titan complex was four. The Minuteman combat crew

consisted of two members. Atlas and Titan crews “live d

with their missil es, five Atlas to a complex and three Tita

missiles to a complex. The liquid oxidizer and hyperbolic fuel

of these ICBM systems required constant monitoring, care, an

feeding. The later solid-propellant ICBMs—Minuteman and MX

(Peacekeeper)—presented very few hazards to crew and main

tenance operations. They were deployed in “clusters” or flight

of 10 missiles, each connected electronically to a centrall

located deep-underground launch control center (LCC). Rapid

advances in ICBM technology led to the solid propellan

“wooden concept” Minuteman missile, which required littl

day-to-day maintenance or upkeep. Only electronic moni

toring of its constantly running guidance and control system

and its launch-related electronic systems was required. Eac

two-man combat crew managed and controlled a flight of te

83
missiles that were deployed three-to-ten miles away an

interconnected electronically with the LCC.

The rapid deployment of 1,000 Minuteman missiles over th

period of a few short years in the early 1960s, while SAC wa

maintaining over a hundred Atlas missiles and 50-plus Titan

on constant alert, required an incredible buildup of comba

crew, maintenance, collateral support, and infrastructur

personnel. The first Minuteman missile complex, two flights o

ten missiles each, was declared combat-ready in Novembe

1962; by 1966, SAC had 1,000 Minuteman missiles on aler

To aid in recruiting young officers from other specialties, SAC

initiated the “Minuteman Missile Education Program” (MMEP)

The program began at Malmstrom AFB, Montana, in 1962

coincident with the first Minuteman missiles coming up t

alert status.

Regional and national universities participated, placin

faculty at the six Minuteman missile wing locations in

Montana, North Dakota, South Dakota, Wyoming, an

Missouri. The universities offered post-graduate degrees in 

variety of MBA and industrial management programs fo

combat crew members, all of whom were required to have 

basic degree. The education program was an overwhelmin

success; it attracted top-notch young officers to the missil

crew force, and it helped to offset boredom during the lon

hours of “sitting on alert.” Individual course study an

student dialogue took up the time slack in the “capsules.”

I was in the process of rotating back to CONUS after fou

years of flying B-52Gs and performing ground and airborn

alert in Puerto Rico when the MMEP attracted me. Th

selection system having “quickly” found me qualified an

available, I was sent to Minuteman combat crew training an

subsequently assigned to Ellsworth AFB, South Dakota, as 

combat crew commander. Moving from the cockpit of a B-5

to a Minuteman LCC was an interesting cultural and “opera

ting environment” change. However, other than operating 

weapon system that didn’t “taxi, take off, or fly,” SAC

procedures for managing, controlling, and employing nuclea

weapons were identical to those in place for the B-5

mission—only the delivery vehicle was different.

84
Following ten years in the bomber crew force, I spent thre

years as a SAC combat crew Cold Warrior with th

Minuteman. The missile crew adventure did not require a ma

dash to a B-52; it required driving an Air Force automobil

one hundred or more miles, often in snowstorms, to the LCC

and the place of alert duty. Once on site, my “crew deputy” (L

Bill Cisney) and I had to be identified by the security team an

approved by the on-duty alert crew. We would then proceed t

the elevator—and to the LCC, 60 feet below. When we arrived

at the entrance to the console area, the on-duty crew would

open the five-ton “blast door” and grant our entry into th

50-by-30-foot “cocoon.” The changeover procedures betwee

departing and oncoming crews was, in effect, a “change o

command” with a status briefing on the missile flight, verifica

tion of the emergency war order documents, and symboli

exchange of responsibility between the old crew and the new

crew. Any general rumors of upcoming events were passed on

of course, as were best wishes for a safe driving trip back

home. We would then close the blast door, thereby “hardenin g

the capsule against nuclear damage in the event of an attack

complete the required operational preflight and communication

checks, and prepare for the next 24 to 36 hours, when ou

relief crew would arrive to repeat the same process.

The ICBM alert duty tours always seemed to go quit

smoothly. The main interruptions were occasional securit

alarms at the missile silos—usually when sensitive monitor

had been set off by heavily blowing snow, a tumbleweed, or 

rabbit. We would usually receive a message from either SAC o

the Looking Glass airborne command post sometime durin

the duty period. Most often, the message would direct 

practice launch exercise. And, sooner or later, the “dreaded

IG and his team of evaluators would descend upon us an

conduct comprehensive readiness evaluations, thereb

generating the “moments of stark terror ” alluded to earlier.

ICBM alerts were every bit as tedious and demanding of th

individual’s competence, patience, professionalism, an

dedication as were the bomber and tanker force requirements

Due to the long hours of isolation, and the potential fo

boredom, the Air Force Human Reliability Program applied 

special emphasis on selecting, screening, and monitorin

85
missile combat crew members. The program amounted to 

very serious and comprehensive process of monitoring stress

unusual tendencies, behavioral “quirks,” and potential marita

discord. After almost 35 years of missile alert duty b

thousands of bright Air Force officers, few were released from

the assignment. These Cold Warriors served their country ver

well indeed. And the reliable ICBM weapons have never fired 

shot in anger.

During my reading for this project, I happened across 

Newsweek article entitled “Life With The Minuteman.” Other

wise informative and accurate, the article contained thi

passage: “Although the warheads [of the Minuteman missile

can be disarmed by a radio command shortly after launch

nothing can stop the missile’s flight.” I wish to unequivocall

correct that portion of the article. After a combat crew ha

received a valid launch message, all mandatory crosschecks

verifications, and safeguards are reviewed and authenticated

and the missile is launched toward its programmed target, i 

cannot be disarmed! (The only ICBMs that can be destroyed

by the ground controller are those launched for test an

exercise purposes and are not equipped with nuclear war

hea ds.) If operational strategic systems could be electronically

disarmed after a validated execution order, imagine wha

mischief the world’s “wackos” could create—not to mention

the “bogus” electronic signals interjected by enemy forces t

disable the system.

For 34 consecutive years, from 1 October 1957 until 2

September 1991, SAC’s combat crews stood alert, prepared t

respond to their country’s call to go to war, ready to defeat th

ideological and military forces of the Soviet Union. In a 

November 1957 memorandum to “Each member of the SAC

Alert Force,” General Power, CINCSAC, apprised SAC crews o

the reasons for the ground alert posture and their purpose fo

being there:

As a member of SAC’s alert force, you are contributing to an operation

which is of the utmost importance to the security of this nation and its

allies in the free world. The purpose of this memorandum is to discuss

with you some aspects of this operation and the importance of your

part in it. For you must understand the reasons for the establishment

of the alert force in order to believe in what you are doing and,

consequently, do it with all your heart and to the best of your ability.

86
We no longer have a monopoly in nuclear weapons and long-range

bombers. Many of the rapid advances in military technology which are

reflected in our weapon systems are also utilized by the Soviets,

permitting them to attack us with greater speed, firepower, and

accuracy. . . . We received a form of strategic warning of communist

aggression as early as 1848 when Karl Marx and Friedrich Engels

published the Communist Manifesto. Ever since, all the top men of the

communist hierarchy—from Lenin to Stalin to Khrushchev—have

made it clear that the ultimate goal of communism is the liquidation of

the capitalist countries and, primarily, of the United States.

It is my considered opinion that a combat-ready alert force of adequate

size is the very backbone of our deterrent posture. Maintaining as

much as one-third of our strike forces on continuous alert will not be

easy, but it can and must be done. The success of this system

depends on you, and I count on you to insure that the alert force will

always be ready to achieve its vital objectives.

Thirty-four years later, on 28 September 1991, Gen Georg

L. Butler, CINCSAC, broadcast a message to the SAC aler

forces. That message read, in part, “It is clearly one of th

singular events of our time that . . . I sit here in my comman

center. . . . I see all of SAC’s bomber forces off alert. Today w

especially salute the men and women of the Minuteman I

force. Their contribution to this mission has now been

achieved and they can stand down from alert with enormou

pride and the gratitude of the entire nation, indeed of th

entire world. This is a great day for SAC. It’s [a] sweepin

tribute to 45 years of unparalleled devotion along with ou

brothers in the SLBM force. We can sit quietly and reflect on

the wondrous news that we’ve begun to climb back down th

ladder of nuclear confrontation.”

At the heart of the long period of US success in maintainin

deterrence against Soviet aggression was a compellin

national will, great leadership, innovative technologies, 

superior industrial base, and, most importantly, youn

American men and women willing and able to meet th

challenge. The United States clearly enjoyed the unsurpassed

patriotism and loyalty of its Cold War military forces. The

served, they trained hard, and they performed incredibl

missions without fanfare—and mostly without recognition

They worked long hours with short pay; their familie

sacrificed with them; weekdays blended with weekends; lon

absences from home were the norm rather than the exception

87
yet morale remained at an amazingly high level. The disciplin

was exacting and their commitments were unsurpassed. Th

early Cold Warriors of the late 1940s and the 1950s grew int

older Cold Warriors and senior commanders of the 1970s an

1980s. The strategic nuclear deterrent force of SAC and th

submarine Navy became an even more elite professiona

war-fighting, war-capable “machine.” Peace was their profes sion

and they maintained it.

Boomer Patrol Operations

Submariners have grown out of a tradition that’s different

from any other in the military. We go places on our own and

come back on our own; we have a lot of adventures we

can’t talk about. Every submariner undergoes extensive

screening, and most attend difficult schools to get here. All

are volunteers. Even though our work is dangerous, we’re

not going to stand out as heroes. The submarine force

attracts a different kind of sailor.

—A submarine commander

The Blue and Gold crews that man the SSBNs are amon

the Navy’s elite, equaling the proud Top Gun fighter pilot

Like all nuclear Cold Warriors, the SSBN crews were al

volunteers. Directed duty assignments to these jobs wouldn’

work; desire and motivation must bring this special breed t

serve aboard an ocean-submerged “operations center,

cruising for months at a time, separated from families, an

working within a cramped and stress-filled environment.

Privileged in 1981 to have a “dollar ride” aboard SSBN 641

the Simon Bolivar, I was able to observe virtually ever

“normal operations” activity aboard the submarine, includin

the simulated launch countdown of a Poseidon SLBM. M

Navy deputy at joint strategic target planning staff (JSTPS)

Capt Ernie Toupin , had to exercise very little persuasion t

convince me to accept an invitation to fly down to Cap

Kennedy for a Poseidon prelaunch checkout cruise. Durin

the 24-hour “out to sea and back” ride, the executive office

gave me a hands-on tour of the boat. As we sailed out of th

88
harbor to the dive area, I experienced a brief period o

embarrassing nausea.

Having been involved in high- and low-altitude nuclea

weapon release exercises aboard bombers and in Minutema

ICBM launch exercises, this adventure completed m

indoctrination of weapons execution within the entire Triad

My impressions were as I had expected—exceptionally brigh

young professionals, officers and sailors, extremely courteou

and polite (even during my nausea episode), and havin

positive attitudes, efficiently going through their procedures—

no nonsense throughout. The launch exercise execution wa

flawless and impressive.

The next night, following my SSBN cruise, I went aboard th

USS Yellowstone to observe the actual launch of th

Poseidon—from the Simon Bolivar, which had returned t

carry out the exercise. The missile breaking the water surfac

with a spectacular roar and fire from its first-stage engine wa

awesome in the predawn hours.

The men who signed up for SSBN duty were (and are) th

cream of the crop. In addition to their personal motivation t

serve aboard nuclear submarines, they are also exceptionall

intelligent and physically fit. The average age of the enlisted

nuclear submariner is 23 years. About half of them ar

married. The Navy began psychiatric studies in 1958 t

determine the abilities of men to perform efficiently for period

of 60 days or more without personal contact with thei

families or the outside world. Capt (Dr.) Jack Kinsey, USN

concluded after cruising with SSBN crews that the key to 

crew member’s attitude and motivation to serve is trainin

and discipline. The technical training is the most complex o

any of the military services for a young high school graduate

The specially selected enlisted men train in four principa

areas of study: electronics technician, fire control technician

missile technician, and torpedoman. Following “boot camp,” o

basic training, the SSBN candidates attend a technical schoo

to train in their specialty for 38 to 45 weeks. They are expecte

to master electronics theory, mathematics, trigonometry

geometry, calculus, systems circuitry, test and diagnosti

equipment operation, and normal and emergency operatin

89
procedures. Academic testing and hands-on laborator

evaluations are persistent.

Upon completion of basic technical training, the candidat

attends submarine school for two or more months to becom

familiar with underwater seagoing operations. Thereafter, eac

crewman begins to concentrate on his specialty positio

within the SSBN crew. Training continues after he is assigned

to either a Blue or Gold crew, and he does not win hi

Dolphins Wings until he is fully certified by the captain of hi

submarine. The captain of a crew—normally in the grade o

commander and 38 to 40 years of age—provides leadership

training, and mission awareness to his crew of 140 to 20

men, depending on the particular submarine.

The captain remains constantly aware of the attitude an

morale of the crew. A couple of hundred men working an

living in a very small confined area can easily breed disconten

if just one individual fails to adjust. Perhaps the most difficul

living problem is the “hot bunking” requirement for th

youngest and lowest-rated enlisted men. Depending on th

number of “extras” on board, many of the younger sailors wil

be assigned three men to two sleeping bunks, or even two me

to one bunk. Thus, one or two may be resting or sleepin

while another is on duty. And the bunk space isn’t all tha

“abundant” in the first place—roughly about a “roomy coffin

size, with a curtain to draw for darkness and privacy. Spac

for personal effects is also in short supply. (But who need

money or personal effects on patrol anyway?)

Duty shifts vary but are almost always four six-hour shift

or three eight-hour shifts per day. The division chiefs the

assign duty requirements, training, and free time around th

shift schedule. During patrols, most boats operate on “abov

surface” time—the “in-house” lights are all on during the day

dim red lights are switched on at night. This procedure als

prevents night blindness, should the boat surface to use th

periscope. The captain leans heavily on the other dozen or s

officers and the senior noncommissioned officers to assist in

creating a healthy living and operating environment.

Training is constant when the submarine is on patrol. Alon

with numerous functional exercises and drills, training help

to absorb the long hours and days at sea. The Navy, as did th

90
Air Force with the ICBM crews, offers college-level an

vocational-technical courses to SSBN crew members. The

study while at sea and take examinations when they return t

their home port. The days and nights under water can also b

absorbed with movies and video tapes if there is any time lef

after training, drills, and individual study.

But perhaps the favorite SSBN crew pastime is eating. Th

Navy spares no cost or innovation in providing the best in

both quality and variety of food—and the cooks are arguabl

the most well-trained and most highly motivated the Navy ca

find. Of course, the “front end” of the patrol offers the bes

variety of fresh vegetables and fruits, with days toward th

end moving toward frozen and canned provisions. Th

high-tech food industry, however, has created numerou

innovative ways to preserve virtually every kind of food. 

by-product of eating, of course, is weight gain—so the SSBN

submarines carry a variety of exercise contraptions for th

crew to use.

Every submariner looks forward to “word from home” durin

patrol, and the word is provided via “familygrams ”—40-wor

messages limited to routine family news and events. Th

messages are screened at the home base for sensitive revela

tions, bad news, deaths, “Dear Johns,” and so forth. Bad new

must be kept until the sailor gets back home. Wives an

family members become skilled in “packing” good news an

information into the 40-word “grams.” These messages ar

transmitted in the “open,” on predetermined frequencies fo

the identified SSBN to intercept; thus, the submarine’s posit io

is not revealed. For the same reason, submarines on patro

are not permitted to transmit messages of any kind; therefore

crew members cannot send replies during the entire patrol.

The Soviets had an early lead in underwater war fighting, bu

rapid advances in submarine, nuclear propulsion, and ballisti

missile technologies in the 1960s and 1970s pushed the Unite

States far ahead and made the SSBN an integral part of th

strategic nuclear deterrent force. The combination of stealth

mobility, survivability, endurance, and dedicated crews ha

given the United States an unequaled war-fighting capability.

91
Chapter 4

Fun, Games, and Serious Business

The Cold Warrior enjoyed a variety of fun, games, and seriou

business—quite often, a combination of all three. I will tak

only a brief excursion here to review a few of the events an

circumstances that provided a continuous supply of “spice” t

the otherwise challenging responsibilities of these Warriors.

Combat Crew Duty

This was at the core of the Cold Warrior’s assignment an

responsibilities. Becoming qualified in his crew position (pilo

navigator, bombardier, engineer, gunner, ICBM crew member

within the unit’s weapon system (bomber, tanker, recc

aircraft, ICBM, SSBN) was the Cold Warrior’s initial step

toward being assigned to a combat crew. Training usuall

began at a “school” for the appropriate aircraft or missil

system, and was completed at the crew member’s assigned

unit. Once he had attained weapon system proficiency an

was evaluated, usually in concert with the entire crew, th

Cold Warrior began the certification process.

Every Strategic Air Command (SAC) combat crew membe

would likely argue that his type of duty was the most difficul

and challenging, but most would agree that the bomber crew

had the toughest series of requirements to meet in order to b

“certified” combat-ready. In addition to being fully qualified in

his aircraft position, the bomber crew member had to be full

knowledgeable about his single integrated operational pla

(SIOP) mission plan: He was required to know the nuclea

weapons that were assigned to his sortie and the tactics used

to deliver them; the precise navigation route for entry an

egress into his assigned target areas; the planned an

emergency air refueling areas and tactics; the potential SAM

and fighter threats along his route of flight; the escape an

evasion plan if his aircraft were shot down; and the emergenc

airfields along his route of flight.

93
The crew member

s certification briefing was given to 

board of experts, including senior officers of the unit, wh

took great delight in challenging every facet of his knowledge

Most would agree that the certification process for the crew

was every bit as comprehensive and challenging as preparin

for an advanced college degree oral examination or defendin

a thesis. Failure meant embarrassment, back to the drawin

board, many hours of study and preparation, and another try

Successful completion, on the other hand, meant “hallelujah,

congratulations, and back-slapping. All SAC combat crews

regardless of assigned weapon system, went through th

certification process.

An additional crew responsibility was participation in th

human reliability program (HRP) and the personal reliabilit

program (PRP). These programs sought to ensure that eac

combat crew member was mentally and psychologically fit t

manage, handle, and employ nuclear weapons. In the earl

days of SAC, this was particularly important because man

bombers could not make it to a preplanned poststrike bas

and the crews had to bail out of their aircraft sometime afte

dropping their last weapon. As longer-range bombers an

increased air refueling became available, this problem all bu

went away.

I never saw or heard of a combat crew member asking to b

relieved of his duties for lack of a plan to land safely after th

mission. However, in the 1960s and 1970s, a few individual

who were selected for ICBM crew duty expressed reservation

about launching missiles against an enemy. These incident

were relatively few in number, however, and in virtually ever

case the individual was reassigned without prejudice. Thes

activities were serious business!

SAC Bombing Competition

Within SAC, flying always came first with the combat crews

Gen George C. Kenney, SAC’s first commander, inaugurated

the first “bombing competition” in 1948. During the first tw

years of its existence, the command’s bomber crews ha

demonstrated very little skill in bombing accuracy. Kenne

94
sought to improve both discipline and capability by organizing 

“tournament” to create competition among the crews acros

SAC. The first competition was held from 20 to 27 June a

Castle AFB, California, with ten B-29 bomb groups competing

During the competition, the crews flew identical navigation

routes to predesignated targets, making three simulated visua

bomb releases and three radar releases from 25,000 feet. 1L

Merle J. Jones and his B-29 crew won the inaugural competi

tion. (Later, Lt Col Merle J. Jones was my B-52G squadron

commander.)

Gen Curtis E. LeMay took command of SAC on 19 Octobe

of that year, replacing General Kenney. He continued th

competition the following year with three B-36, seven B-29

and two B-50 crews. From the outset, General LeMay imposed

the requirement that combat crews would be fully “integral”

that is, every effort would be made to keep combat crew

together as long as possible. They would train together, ea

together, and fly together, thereby improving their coordina

tion and proficiency. A B-36 crew won the second year’s even

Now convinced that the bombing competition encouraged 

competitive spirit, better proficiency, and improved morale

LeMay made the event an annual affair. Later, challengin

navigation routes and electronic countermeasures wer

included. Still later, reconnaissance aircraft and crews wer

added to the event. Each year, as SAC grew and mor

sophisticated aircraft entered the inventory, unit competition

leading to the SAC-wide “tournament” became more spirited

and challenging.

As a young B-36 pilot, I was fortunate to serve with a crew

of the best professionals I was to ever fly with—and to b

selected to participate in the Eighth Annual SAC Bombing

Navigation-Reconnaissance Competition at Loring AFB, Ma ine

The competition featured B-47, B-36, and B-52 bomber crews

along with RB-47 and RB-36 reconnaissance crews, in one o

the largest competitions ever held. Our crew didn’t win, bu

competing with the best combat crews and Cold Warriors in

SAC had its own special reward.

Later, as the ICBMs came into SAC’s nuclear inventory

missile competition for the crews was initiated. The first even

took place in April 1967 at Vandenberg AFB, California, wit

95
two combat crews and one target alignment crew from each o

six Minuteman wings and three Titan wings participating

Since the crews could not actually launch their missiles

“missile procedures trainers” (MPT) were used. Evaluator

provided different emergency procedures for the crews t

perform under different scenarios. The complex scenarios an

emergency situations tested every facet of combat crew

proficiency in maintaining and operating the systems. Th

missile competition served the same purpose as the aircraf

competition program in building competitive spirit within an

among the units, thereby enhancing crew proficiency. Thes

were the “games,” and they were “fun.”

Spot Promotions

Following the second bombing competition in 1949, Genera

LeMay decided to petition and “challenge” Headquarters Ai

Force to grant him the authority to award “spot promotions” t

deserving, specially selected combat crew members wh

excelled in their performance. On 21 December 1949, the Ai

Force authorized SAC to “spot-promote” as many as 23

deserving first lieutenants to the rank of captain. Uni

commanders nominated candidates; SAC headquarters mad

final selections. The spot-promoted captain held his rank unti

promoted through the normal selection process except when i

was determined that he had failed to maintain the highes

degree of proficiency and competence. In such an event, h

could lose the promotion and revert to first lieutenant.

In 1950, the Air Force authorized SAC to spot-promot

deserving officers serving on bomber combat crews one grad

above the level they held (up to lieutenant colonel) an

noncommissioned officers serving in crew positions (up t

master sergeant). With the promotions came the increased pa

and recognition of the new grade. SAC created a combat crew

proficiency-level system: Noncombat Ready, Ready, Lead, an

Select. A combat crew was upgraded from “lead status” t

“select status” when one or more of the crew received a spo

promotion.

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The principal purpose of the spot promotion program was t

reward exceptional performance by nuclear bomber crew

members. Winning crews in the bombing competition o

involvement in other exceptional events usually could expec

to be rewarded with spot promotions. Also, loss of the spo

promotion, by the entire crew or an individual crew member

could be expected if one or all failed to maintain the highes

standard of performance.

I was one of the fortunate ones; I held a spot promotion fo

over two years before my normally scheduled promotion t

captain came through. “Holding” a spot promotion probabl

induced more pressure on the individual and the crew tha

was recognized—one “screwup” by any crew member usuall

meant that all “went back to the real world .” Pride an

euphoria, however, glossed that over.

Needless to say, the spot promotion program was extremel

unpopular with the rest of the Air Force, including the aeria

refueling tanker crews within SAC. Likewise, the Navy had 

legitimate argument on behalf of their SSBN crews. Never

theless, General LeMay held forth and prevailed against th

wave of criticism.

The Air Force terminated the spot promotion program on 3

June 1966, after 161⁄2 years during which an untold numbe

of SAC bomber crew members were rewarded for thei

exceptional performance under General LeMay’s specia

reward program for the nuclear bomber force. This was part o

the “fun”—at least for a few.

Combat Crew Proficiency

Maintaining individual and combat crew proficiency i

carrying out the Cold War mission was a hallmark of Strategi

Air Command. General LeMay set the early standard, an

there was a continuing evolution of methods to test, check

evaluate, and “proof-test” combat crew, maintenance, an

support personnel. At unit or wing level, the standardization

evaluation crews—the acknowledged best and most proficien

crews in the organization—were selected to serve as th

“standard setters” and evaluators. But internal evaluation

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were not the only means of assessing and determining comba

crew proficiency; there was always a higher order in SAC

Bomber and tanker crews were periodically evaluated by th

strategic evaluation squadron (SES) while ICBM crews wer

subjected to strategic missile evaluation squadron (SMES

evaluations. These combat crew specialists made scheduled

visits to SAC units for the purpose of evaluating the loca

standardization-evaluation crews as well as several othe

crews selected at random from within the organization

Aircraft and missile maintenance teams did not escape th

rigorous evaluation process either, as special highe

headquarters evaluation teams also made periodic visits t

units for evaluation purposes. This method, considere

“onerous” by the crew force and the maintenance teams, did

serve to balance standards and enhance performance acros

the entire command. Evaluations were not considered “fun,

but “serious business” by most; they were challenging.

Operational Readiness Inspections

The most dreaded announcement within a SAC wing was

“The IG has landed!” The SAC Inspector General (IG) and hi

team of 40 to 60 inspectors would suddenly appear out o

nowhere in his KC-135 tanker-transport and be on fina

approach to the base before anyone knew it. The speculation

about when he would be coming almost became a “lotter

event,” which the IG Team usually won—sometimes b

arriving in the dead hours of the night to “catch the uni

unaware.” Whereas combat crew performance evaluation

assured crew proficiency, the ”operational readines

inspection” (ORI) conducted by the IG was designed t

evaluate the entire unit’s ability to react upon receiving 

no-notice alerting order to perform its war plan. The ORI wa

a rigorous inspection that usually lasted a week or more. Th

first event was to evaluate the response of the bomber an

tanker alert force (or the ICBM force) to a simulate

emergency war order. IG evaluators would be positioned a

every conceivable location to witness and evaluate th

response actions of both combat crews and support personnel

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The crews who happened to be on alert when the ORI wa

initiated were evaluated first. The entire wing was the

required to “generate” the remainder of the bombers, tankers

or missiles up to full combat-ready status, with nuclea

weapons loaded as if prepared to go to war. Again, evaluator

were positioned to assess and evaluate response actions.

The entire organization worked in unison to demonstrate it

capability to carry out the mission. Bomber and tanker win

crews, after downloading their aircraft from the fully generated

war-fighting configuration, were then required to fly 

simulated wartime mission over a predesignated route aroun

the United States (with evaluators on board to monitor pro

ficiency). Combat crew activities were not the only items o

interest to the IG evaluators, however; all other facets of th

unit’s operations were also carefully inspected. Personnel

hospital dental clinic, commissary, base exchange, motor pool

day-care center, service clubs, and overall housekeepin

records were carefully examined throughout the unit. Finally

everyone took a deep breath and headed for the base theate

or auditorium for the ORI Critique. These formal presentation

“laid out” the good, the bad, and the ugly of the unit’

performance. Usually the commander of the unit’s next highe

headquarters would be present to hear the results. If it wer

going to be a “bad” critique, he would definitely be there—afte

all, he had to give an accounting to SAC. In fairness to th

senior commanders, however, I should note that they attended

as many ORI critiques and outbriefs as they could in order t

congratulate the crews and personnel on the job well done. In

the early days, it was not unusual for General LeMay t

personally participate in the ORI, arriving even before th

finish to observe the activities. He was also known on occasion

to accompany the IG Team on their initial arrival. These wer

“games,” but they were also “serious business.”

Security Evaluations

Security awareness and safeguarding the nuclear-related

and other war planning activities were a constant concern fo

every individual—and for commanders in particular. To

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stimulate consistent interest and awareness, SAC operated 

security evaluation system. The system’s two-phased

approach utilized a specially trained team whose mission wa

to surreptitiously breach a unit’s security measures. Thes

teams used false identifications and false orders, pictur

badges with photos other than the wearers’ photos inserted

and other creative schemes to “get inside” a secure area. (In

some bizarre instances, picture badges bearing anima

pictures got by the security guards. The ploys were all exercise

in good faith and seldom ended in any serious consequence

except for embarrassment and serious “lessons learned.”

The second phase of these evaluations included complet

audits of security procedures, inventories of classifie

materials, and tests (both oral and written) for personne

having responsibility for maintaining documents and/o

systems security. The system seldom failed beyond a

occasional administrative mishap. The SAC security forces a

all levels were well-trained, indoctrinated, and disciplined

They were elite professionals, mostly very young enlisted me

and women, who took their jobs as seriously as did an

segment of the military. For three years, I occupied an offic

that was three floors below ground level at SAC headquarters

It was the most secure area in the entire building—perhaps in

the world, since the area housed the US nuclear war plannin

activity, the Joint Strategic Target Planning Staff (JSTPS). In

addition to the traditional closed-circuit television monitor

and special-coded cipher locks, one had to be recognized by a

least two manned guard stations on the way in.

One brutally cold Sunday morning, I received a call from th

command center to come in and read a message that had jus

arrived. So I bundled up in civilian clothes, put on m

fur-rimmed, Russian-looking hat, and proceeded to the office

At that time, SAC general officers assigned to headquarter

staff were not required to wear picture identification badge

since the unit’s elite guards were required to personall

recognize every general officer in SAC headquarters.

On that morning, my “disguise” was too good. I “breezed” b

the guard station, said “good morning,” and headed toward

the cipher lock on my outer office door. Suddenly, I heard 

loud “HALT!” Before I could turn around, I was spread-eagled

100
my hands high against the wall and my feet sprea

apart—and the security alarm was ringing. Then I heard th

familiar trotting of other elite guards’ “jack boots” comin

down the passageway. When I was allowed to relax, I took of

the ridiculous hat and was identified immediately by th

embarrassed guard, who could not have felt worse than I. Nex

morning, I went to the SAC chief of staff, related the inciden

and strongly recommended that even generals be required t

wear personal identification badges. In short order, all wer

directed to get one and wear it in secure areas. This wa

“serious business.”

Survival School

Every Air Force aviator and Navy tactical systems crewma

goes through some type of survival training program. SAC ha

its own special brand, since all SIOP bomber missions an

many tanker and reconnaissance missions would have flow

over extremely hostile territory of the Soviet Union and th

chances of having to bail out of an aircraft hit by their fighter

or air defenses was great. The original SAC survival schoo

was located at Stead AFB near Reno, Nevada. Later, th

school was moved to an area near Spokane, Washington

Every SAC air crew member was required to attend. The Stea

school was three weeks in length, the first two week

consisting of classroom training and local demonstrations on

how to survive in the general area where we likely might hav

had to bail out. The instructors were some of the toughest an

uniquely bright young outdoorsmen I have ever seen, before o

after. During the first two weeks of training, the studen

learned about the possible situations he might expect upon

finding himself in a strange and hostile land. He might b

heavily “radiated” from detonated nuclear weapons, hav

injured crewmen to care for, and be in great need of safe food

and water.

For the last week of the course, each combat crew wa

“dropped off” as a single unit at distant dispersion points in

the wilds of Squaw Valley, California , where they would

attempt to evade the “enemy” and survive for five days. Onl

101
minimal survival food was issued, and the student had onl

the things he carried on his person—except for the parachut

that he had “bailed out” with. Instructors were always nearby

but they did not interfere unless a situation became lif

threatening, which it sometimes did. Several crew member

from my wing, severely frost-bitten, lost a few toes during th

course one year. Fortunately, most Cold Warriors never had t

use their survival training; but the few reconnaissance guy

who did encounter the “enemy” could attest to its value. Thi

Cold Warrior activity could qualify as “fun and games

occasionally, but it was “serious business” all the time.

These are but a few of the challenges the Cold Warrior

faced over their years of service. There were hundreds o

others, always “taken in stride,” each one developing a bette

person. Thus, the Cold Warrior could not only do his assigned

Cold War job efficiently and professionally—he could als

prepare for reentry into the civilian world, which he had spen

a large part of his life to protect. Continuing with this theme, 

want to relate some of the true adventures and recollection

that several Cold Warriors passed on to me.

Anecdotes

Anecdotes, better known as “war stories” in the militar

vernacular, were an important part of Cold Warrior lore. Thes

unpublished experiences served to enrich even further th

Cold Warriors’ lives. Not unlike a rumor, a war story tended t

take on extraordinary embellishments as it circulated. Here, 

simply pass on some of the anecdotes given to me b

colleagues from the past—along with a few of my own.

I can think of no better way to begin than with Genera

LeMay, the acknowledged “father” of SAC, who became 

legend larger than himself during his Air Force career

Another legendary figure was Admiral Rickover, who enjoyed 

reputation in the Submarine Navy not unlike that of LeMay in

SAC. The accepted fact throughout SAC was that you could

believe any story involving General LeMay, no matter how

outrageous. The truth of the matter is that General LeMay i

likely remembered more for things that he allegedly said

102
rather than what he actually said. Likewise, the 

spice

generated from encounters with Admiral Rickover made fo

interesting story telling. All who sought to enter nuclea

submarine crew training dreaded the interview with the crust

admiral. Although the following stories were likely grounded in

truth, some “gilding” was undoubtedly occurring as they wer

retold over and over.

General LeMay

Walter Boyne, in Boeing B-52, relates a story about Genera

LeMay told by George Schairer, Boeing’s Chief Aerodynamicis

during the early development days of the B-52 while Boein

was also attempting to “sell” improvements to extend the lif

of the B- 47.

Putting his arm around Shairer at a meeting at Boeing, General LeMay

said, “George, whatever you are doing to improve the B-47, stop it.” But

that wasn’t sufficient for the eager Boeing engineers; Guy Townsend,

test pilot for the B-47 and B-52, traveled to Omaha to brief LeMay on

an improved B-47 powered by the J-57 engine. LeMay stopped the

briefing before it got started by asking: “Just how deep does a program

have to be buried before you dumb sons-a-bitches at Wright Field will

stop digging it up?”

(The selling of the enhanced B-47 stopped and the B-52 got built.

This author witnessed a similar event in November 1980. 

grew up in SAC, in the “wake” of LeMay’s great leadership, bu

I did not find myself in his presence except for a few times in

his later years. On one such occasion, long after hi

retirement, General LeMay was visiting SAC headquarters a

the invitation of Gen Richard Ellis , who was the CINC at th

time. Having served as his executive assistant years before

General Ellis was always very comfortable with LeMay. Th

CINC invited four of us on the senior staff to meet wit

General LeMay in the “command conference room” to discus

current issues. General Ellis had intended to “try out” a new

bomber program initiative on LeMay in this small group

hoping to get his nod of approval. But before we had all settled

in our chairs, General Ellis was called out of the room to tak

an important phone call. In departing, he asked the vice CINC

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Lt Gen Dick Leavitt, to give LeMay a brief overview of a SAC

proposal to radically modify the FB-111 bomber, making it

capability similar to that of the B-1, which had been canceled

by President Carter. The “fuse had been lighted!” When th

first slide showed an FB-111 in flight, General LeMay slapped

the conference table with the palm of his hand and said

“Listen, you guys, Lyndon Johnson shoved that Texas-buil

F-111 up my a—once, and I’ll be damned if I’ll be a party to it a

second time! What else do you want to talk about?” (It seeme

an eternity before any conversation resumed.)

As we know, President Reagan restored the B-1 program soon

after his inauguration in 1981 and the FB-111 modification

notion went no farther. The “Old Man” likely allowed himself t

smile.

General Ellis related another LeMay story to me while w

were waiting outside the Joint Chiefs of Staff conference room

to brief the Secretary of Defense and the Joint Chiefs on th

revised SIOP. Recalling General LeMay’s reputation fo

“petrifying” briefing officers, Ellis told about a time when 

young captain was scheduled to brief the legendary general

The captain was standing at the lectern when the “Boss” cam

into the room and took his seat. Several minutes elapsed

while LeMay discussed various subjects with the staff aroun

him. Meanwhile, the young briefing officer at the lectern ha

become “locked” in fear and “frozen” in his standing position

gripping the lectern for support. When General LeMay turned

suddenly to the captain and said, “Well what are YOU going t

tell me?,” the young briefer just “keeled forward,” lectern an

all, as he fell face-down on the carpet. The young captain wa

not injured, but his boss had to give the briefing.

General LeMay, reflecting on Korea in an interview with th

Air Force Office of History, commented on how the United

States elected not to use strategic weapons:

Right at the start of the war, unofficially I slipped a message, under

the carpet, in the Pentagon that we ought to turn SAC loose with

incendiaries on some North Korean towns. The answer came back,

under the carpet again, that there would be too many civilian

casualties; we couldn’t do anything like that. So we went over there

and fought the war and eventually burned down every town in North

Korea anyway, some way or another, and some in South Korea, too.

We even burned down Pusan—an accident, but we burned it down

104
anyway. Over a period of three years or so, we killed off—what—twenty

percent of the population of Korea as direct casualties of war, or from

starvation or exposure? Over a period of three years, this seemed to be

acceptable to everybody, but to kill a few people at the start right

away, no, we can’t seem to stomach that.

In retrospect, during the three years and one month of th

Korean War, South Korea suffered 3,000,000 civilian an

225,000 military casualties out of a population of 20-plu

million (16 percent); North Korea had 1,300,000 civilian an

military casualties out of a population of 9,600,000 (1

percent).

Lt Gen Warren D. Johnson tells about an encounter he ha

with General LeMay. At the time, Johnson was a young office

assigned to SAC headquarters training division. SAC polic

required that only officers with engineering or equivalen

degrees be assigned to operate the intelligence collectio

hardware onboard RB-50 reconnaissance aircraft and t

analyze the data collected.

After I flew several missions on the RB-50s to observe what they were

doing, I became convinced that the six “recon” officers were

overqualified and that well-trained enlisted personnel could

accomplish the duties even better and far less expensively—and that

they would enjoy much better job satisfaction. I visited the Training

Command people at Keesler and they assured me that they could train

a bright young enlisted man to do the job in six months. (The officers

had been required to complete a one-year SAC-programmed course.) I

went to my boss and in turn to the SAC Director of Operations, both of

whom were not only reluctant to take the idea to the CINC, General

LeMay, but were downright fearful of “rocking the boat.” Finally, after

a lengthy period of badgering, they both agreed to allow me to brief the

general on my initiative—which they would attend, but not endorse

the notion. I gave my briefing to General LeMay, who sat puffing his

cigar, devoid of expression. When I finished, he said, “Who the hell’s

idea was this?” Both of my bosses looked blankly at each other as I

finally gulped, “General, it was solely my idea.” General LeMay paused

for a very scary moment, then growled, “Best damned idea I’ve heard

in five years. Do it.”

Lt Gen Edgar S. Harris, Jr., former vice CINC of SAC an

commander, Eighth Air Force, believed that General LeMa

foresaw the impending nuclear era. He saw a need for SAC t

implement unit-level possession of nuclear weapons. The old

ways, he believed, would have to change dramatically. H

therefore set out to bring about those changes. To convinc

105
Congress that SAC should have its own assigned nuclea

weapons in an airplane, ready to go by order of the presiden

and not before, he knew there had to be an impeccabl

standard that SAC would have to hew to, and he set out t

establish that standard. In other words, professionalism ha

to be introduced. In the doing of it, a number of peopl

reputed to be LeMay’s former associates, if not his friends

thought he was putting SAC under a constraint that wa

unreal—that it couldn’t be done. They didn’t fully subscribe t

LeMay’s demanding regimen. The proof of the general’s gri

lies in the fact that he held his position regardless of friend o

foe, laying the groundwork for a “no nonsense” approach t

professionalism. SAC achieved top-level professional standard

that became accepted as such. “From that willy-nilly, harum

scarum, carefree, drink heavy, party heavy, be-a-good-guy-bu

[mentality] out of World War II (SAC moved) to the mos

professional and responsible fighting force ever assembled.”

Admiral Rickover

Rear Adm Paul Tomb, a good friend and former colleague

tells the story about his first interview with Admiral Rickover 

Tomb, a young lieutenant, was a nuclear submarin

candidate. When the admiral referred to him as Lieutenan

“Toom” at the outset of their meeting, Tomb corrected him

“Sir, it’s ‘Tomb,’ like ‘bomb.’” Admiral Rickover wasn’t faze

and continued to call him “Toom.” Finally, Rickover asked

“‘Toom,’ when did you first become interested in nuclea

energy?” Lieutenant Tomb replied, “Sir, right after the

dropped the atomic ‘boom .’’’ Apparently, his reply didn’t hur

his career; he got the nuclear submarine assignment, late

became an SSBN crew commander, and finally retired as 

rear admiral.

Another, notorious, Rickover interview occurred in 195

when then Lt Comdr Elmo Zumwalt was a candidate fo

Rickover’s nuclear submarine force. Norman Polmar an

Thomas Allen , in Rickover, Controversy and Genius, discus

the interview in meticulous detail. Commander Zumwalt late

became Admiral Zumwalt, chief of Naval Operations. Few, i

106
any, written accounts of Rickover interviews exist; an

although the admiral always kept a senior officer in the room

as a witness, none have spoken publicly. The account o

Zumwalt’s interview, perhaps one of the more vicious ones

was recorded from his memory in precise detail and late

made an official document. I will not repeat that interview

here, but I commend to the reader the Polmar-Allen account.

Navy Capt Ernie Toupin , a member of my staff at JSTPS

told me the story of his “shakedown” cruise when he was firs

assigned to command a nuclear submarine. As was often th

case in such shakedown cruises, Admiral Rickover elected t

go out with him for a brief observation. Toupin was standin

across the navigator’s station from the admiral, trying t

answer his “machine-gun-fire” questions while managing th

submarine’s onboard activities. Upon failing to hear all of on

question, Toupin shouted back an answer but, as it turned

out, not the right one! He looked up just in time to see a coffe

cup sailing across the compartment at him, accompanied by 

string of unmentionable expletives. The cup missed its targe

but coffee covered the navigator’s table and surrounding area

The B-36

This great but ungainly bomber received its share of stories

many were respectful, some were not. Fresh out of B-3

ground school (there was no formal combat crew trainin

squadron), I was scheduled for my “dollar ride” with one of th

bomb wing’s seasoned crews. I showed up at the appointed

time and followed the pilots through their routines. They wer

polite, but not overly joyous about having a “tag along” on

their mission—especially a second lieutenant who would onl

take up space—so I was mostly ignored throughout the proces

of last-minute planning, completing preflight procedures, an

filing the flight plan.

Finally, as we were about to board the big monster, th

aircraft commander summoned me over and told me to ge

aboard in the rear gunners’ compartment. Sometime durin

the flight, he said, he would call for me to come forward to th

main compartment “where the pilots hang out.” The gunners

107
who were more polite, welcomed the 

fledgling to thei

“country” in the tail of the bomber. The next 24 hours wer

the longest—before or since—I ever spent in simply waiting

The “back end” troops took good care of me and the plentifu

food was good, but the “call” to come forward never came

During the postmission debriefing, the aircraft commande

finally acknowledged my presence. He timidly apologized fo

the treatment I had received, explaining that “they wer

awfully busy.” And they were busy. But I vowed that day t

make any “FNG” (fresh new guy) a special target of m

attention whenever I was in a position to do so, no matter how

busy I might be. Fortunately, this event was not the accepted

rule in SAC, then or ever after.

Some years later, I was flying a B-36 that was forced to lan

at Davis-Monthan AFB, Arizona. We had a maintenanc

problem, and there was bad weather at our home base. Th

next morning, I went to base operations and asked for 

vehicle and driver to take me out to my airplane, which wa

undergoing maintenance and parked at the far end of th

airfield. As we approached the “magnesium monster,” th

young driver said, “Sir, which part of the airplane would lik

me to take you to?” I replied, “Just drive me down to numbe

6 engine where those guys are working.”

Lt Gen Jim Edmundson , among his cherished accounts of th

B-36, relates a story about the “bravado” of SAC’s and Genera

LeMay’s penchant for air crew and SAC confidence building:

I launched in the lead plane [from Fairchild AFB, near Spokane] in a

15-ship effort at 4:00 a.m., climbed to altitude and headed for

Davis-Monthan AFB in Tucson, Arizona. I picked up a block clearance

from FAA and we established a bomber stream, using radar

station-keeping with each B-36 tracking the airplane ahead of him

and staying about one hundred feet above him and about a half-mile

behind.

When we arrived in the Tucson area, I checked in with approach

control and the tower for permission to land the flight at

Davis-Monthan. I closed out our flight plan with FAA and set up a

pattern to bring the flight in to land at 3-minute intervals. As each

B-36 coming in on his final approach reached five hundred feet, the

crew retracted the flaps, sucked-up the gear, poured on some power,

and headed for Mexico at 500-feet altitude. We were on radio silence

for the rest of the mission.

108
As far as FAA knew, we were on the ground at Davis-Monthan. SAC

had placed a “trusted agent” in the tower who knew what was going

on. Sneaky bunch that we were, we were on our way. To avoid ADC

(Air Defense Command) radar, we flew about three hundred miles into

Mexico and then headed west. When we were about five hundred miles

off the coast, we headed north, still in bomber stream and flying at

one thousand feet. We headed northerly all day and were off the coast

of Vancouver Island by about 10:00 that night. At that point, we lit up

the jets, turned southeast toward the United States and began a max

climb to forty thousand feet. We assumed a spread formation with

radar station-keeping, remained under radio silence, and turned off

our running lights.

When we began showing up on ADC radar screens, the operators were

sure the Russians were coming. But SAC had also placed a “trusted

agent” in the ADC Command Center who announced, “These are not

Russians, they are B-36s; go see what you can do about it.” When we

hit our pre-IP, each B-36 pilot went after his assigned target. We hit

Seattle, Bremerton (shipyards), Renton (Boeing Aircraft plant),

Tacoma, Portland, and a lot of other places. Our lead crew bombed

Hanford (nuclear weapons components plant) and, after “bombs

away,” I told everyone to turn on their lights and contacted FAA for

clearance to descend and fly back to Fairchild. It was a pretty good

mission. We hit all of our targets and nobody laid a glove on us. ADC

was mad as hell, but I’m sure General LeMay was chuckling. He’d

found out what he wanted to know about one of his units.

SAC Missiles

The late Gen Jack Catton, who grew up in SAC bomber

and was once my Air Division commander, told a story abou

his first exposure to SAC ICBMs:

Think about this for a moment. I remember when General LeMay

pulled me into the headquarters the second time to do requirements,

and I got my first briefing on something called Atlas. “Christ,” I had

come from the 43d Bomb Wing, and we were still working real, real

hard to bring our celestial navigation CEP (circular error probable—

bombing accuracy) down, so that we would be sure of a good radar fix,

and hit the target—all that good stuff. These idiots pulled me down

into the basement (SAC underground secure planning center) and

started explaining to me that we were going to shoot this rocket, that

[it] was going to go five thousand miles and it was going to be

within—what the hell did we have then—I guess a mile of the target!

Col John Moser tells a story from his days as a Minutema

crew commander:

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Life on a SAC missile crew was constant study, reading tech orders

and Emergency War Order procedures, training, testing,

evaluations, and alert. The routine became so “routine” because the

pressure was never off. The crew commander was ultimately

responsible for how his crew performed and since this was my first

command, I took it seriously. Not only were we tested back at our

base, we were often given surprise evaluations by visiting staff

members while we were on alert.

Our wing commander had a reputation for, one, being a living terror

and, two, making surprise visits to launch control centers (LCC) to

“look in on the troops.” My crew was on alert once when the topside

security chief notified me that the commander was on site and

requested permission to come down to the LCC. Did I have a choice?

After he entered the LCC, I gave him the typical visitor’s briefing and

he began to “poke” around the capsule. As luck would have it, a

practice emergency war order came over the SAC “primary alerting

system” at that time. My deputy and I proceeded to run our checklists,

coordinate our actions with higher headquarters, and complete the

exercise—in a very efficient and professional manner, or so we

thought—and the commander departed without further comment.

Upon arriving back at the squadron the next day, we discovered that

we had failed the observed exercise. The commander had found a

loose bolt lying under one of the electronics cabinets which, in his

opinion, would have caused the LCC to not be “hardened” against a

possible nuclear strike—that is, the bolt could have ricocheted around

the capsule, possibly neutralizing our launch capability. The bolt

probably had been there since the LCC was installed years before;

however, forgiveness was not SAC policy.

Col Larry Hasbrouck, a former Minuteman combat crew com

mander and, later, a missile wing director of operations when

SAC was under increasing pressure to allow female officers t

serve on ICBM combat crews, tells this story: “I got a call from

the wing commander. He said to take Capt Rex Stone (a missil

combat crew commander) and his wife, Becky (an Air Forc

captain stationed on the base), to a launch control center. Hav

her go through as many weapon system checklist procedures a

possible and report back how well she did. We did it. Beck

followed the checklists, with her husband answering question

but not providing assistance in any way. She encountered n

problem with the eight-ton blast entry door or the elevator. Sh

had no problem with the inspections, and she did a great jo

with the ‘touch and tell’ launch procedures. When I called th

wing commander back, I said, ‘Sir, I know the people at SAC

[who had called him] want you to tell them that she faile

110
miserably, but she didn

t! (Soon thereafter, women were full

integrated into the ICBM force—both Minuteman and Titan.)

Nuclear Weapons

“Care and feeding” of nuclear weapons became an integra

part of early SAC combat crew operations. When the Air Forc

dropped the devices on Japan, the flight crew included a Lo

Alamos scientist aboard each B-29 to monitor the bombs an

insert the critical core components before the bombs wer

released. After SAC assumed responsibility for strategic opera

tions with atomic bombs, it was obviously not feasible to have 

scientist assigned to each combat crew. Designated crew mem

bers were therefore trained as bomb teams within their assigne

integral crews—first the B-29 crews, then B-50 crews, and finall

B-36 crews. The aircraft commander, the pilot, and the radar

bombardier usually comprised the “special weapons team.”

The early weapons designed for delivery by SAC bomber

were modifications of the Fatman implosion device that wa

dropped on Hiroshima. The Mark-4, Mark-6, Mod-4, an

Mod-5 were large, ugly, fat bombs. Each carried a uranium

spherical cavity called the “pit,” which was surrounded b

shaped blocks of conventional high-explosive material. To

prepare the bomb for release, the bomber had to descend t

10,000 feet or below, so one of the bomb team members could

enter the nonpressurized bomb bay and insert a small solid

ball—the “core”—into the pit. The core was attached to 

cone-shaped extension mechanism and stored aboard th

bomber in a carrying rack called the “bird cage.” The bom

team member removed the core from the bird cage an

inserted it into the nose of the weapon, screwing it int

precision threads that placed it at the exact center of the pit.

The bomb team member then armed the weapon b

removing safety “plugs” from the top of the weapon an

inserting arming plugs that completed the electrical circuit

when the weapon was released. An arming wire or lanyard

closed the necessary circuits upon release, activating th

batteries within the bomb. The weapon would then b

prepared to detonate when its electrical timer ran down to 

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predesignated time or upon impact with the ground, whicheve

came first. These were not necessarily complex procedures; bu

during the early years of atomic weapon operations, the bom

team members had to be proficient in the complex details o

weapon design, operation, onboard monitoring, and the cor

insertion/arming procedures .

All bomb team members took this training in stride, though

most were neither engineers nor physicists; in fact, few had an

kind of scientific background other than some college science o

engineering courses. Proficiency came quickly, however, and w

took the training quite seriously—we became “experts” in th

“mechanics” of atomic weapon operation, monitoring, an

safety. The detailed and explicit training included reproducing

from memory, drawings and schematics of the weapons’ fusin

and firing mechanism, the T-Box monitoring devices, and th

arming and fusing sequences. Zero-error tolerance was require

on all examinations and practical exercises. (Holding only a basi

accountin g degree, I eventually became a nuclear weapon

instructor and evaluator—in addition to my duties as a comba

crew bomber pilot.)

With the advent of thermonuclear (TN) weapons, “care an

feeding” became much simpler for the combat crews. The TN

weapons were wholly self-contained—no mechanical prepara

tions by the combat crew were required. ICBM combat crew

also became free of such responsibilities, other than routin

electronic monitoring.

Entering the bomb bay of an in-flight bomber was neve

“routine”; conducting tedious operations while working in tha

precarious environment often tested both skill and nerve. When

the B-36 bombers were being retired in 1958, their nuclea

weapons had to be ferried from local base storage to a weapon

depot at Manzano Base, near Albuquerque. The logical way t

haul them back was in the bomb bays of the bomber that ha

been carrying them. One crew (I will omit the names) was taske

to ferry an MK-17 nuclear bomb to Manzano. The MK-17 wa

the largest thermonuclear bomb ever built for air delivery—

40,000 lbs. The flight, a brief 40 minutes or so from El Paso t

Albuquerque, could be very turbulent on a hot summer da

over the desert. Under normal operating procedures, safet

pins were inserted in the bomb release mechanism while th

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B-36 was still on the ground. The radar-navigator removed th

pins after takeoff and reinserted them just prior to landing

The purpose of the safety pins was to preclude accidenta

release during takeoff or landing.

On this fateful day, everything was working great. The fligh

up the valley to Kirtland Air Force Base (off-load point) wa

hot and extremely bumpy. As the pilot prepared to enter th

traffic pattern to set up his landing approach, he directed th

radar-navigator to go into the bomb bay and insert the safet

pins. The bomb bay housed a maze of cables, wires, fuel

hydraulic lines, and “you name it.” All cables relating to th

bomb release mechanism were enclosed in metal tubes tha

were clearly marked “NO HAND HOLD.” As the radar

navigator was maneuvering to insert the pins, the aircraft wa

bouncing and hitting abrupt ground thermal bumps at tw

thousand feet down the traffic pattern. One severe bounc

caused him to “grab something” to keep from falling onto th

bomb bay doors. Unfortunately, “something” was the “NO

HAND HOLD” cable tube that controlled the manual bom

release mechanism. Suddenly, the 40,000-lb nuclear bom

exited through the bomb bay doors and plowed into the deser

below. One can only imagine the thoughts that reeled through

the minds and hearts of that crew—especially the poo

radar-nav who was hanging onto the cable tube and lookin

through shattered bomb bay doors at the ground below.

But there’s more to this event and story: The bomb worked

perfectly! It did not detonate because it had not been armed

The incident proved to be a testimonial for, and a great tribut

to, the ingenuity and skill that designed, engineered, an

developed the bomb’s built-in safety features. Years later, 

flew a B-52 mission with that same radar-navigator; we had 

brief—but sobering—chuckle about the incident that could

have created a new “Grand Canyon” in New Mexico.

Cold War Operations

Lt Gen E. G. “Buck” Shuler Jr, former commander of Eight

Air Force, relates a story about training and operational realit

during the Cold War:

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One unique mission experience occurred during Sky Shield II (SAC

bomber exercise) in 1961, where for 24 hours, every civil and

commercial aircraft stood-down so that SAC and ADC could practice

their war missions. I recall that we launched eight B-52s from

Carswell AFB in a MITO, practiced our “safe passage” procedures, and

flew to a point just north of Hudson Bay where we refueled with eight

KC-135s in cell formation and then turned south to act as Soviet

penetrators so ADC fighters could run intercepts against us. We

descended to low level over Lake Superior and made our bomb run

against K. I. Sawyer AFB at 500 feet altitude and then, still flying at

low level, attacked our second target, an Army Nike site at South

Bend, Indiana. Can you imagine grounding all civil aircraft in this day

and time so the military could practice their wartime mission?

Col John Moser, from whom we heard a story about hi

days as a missile crew commander, now tells a story from hi

days as a KC-135 tanker-navigator. He was sitting at hom

baby-sitting two of his children on an October day in 196

when a call from his squadron operations officer instructed

him to report to the squadron immediately—no question

asked. He left a note on the door for his wife, took the kids t

a neighbor, and drove to the squadron headquarters. He an

the other air crew members assembled in the briefing room

were informed that they would be departing as soon as thei

aircraft were ready. Further, no one could make any outsid

phone calls. After they took off, they were able to hea

President John Kennedy’s declaration about the Soviets

intention to place nuclear IRBMs in Cuba.

Landing at Moron in the early morning, we were confronted with B-47

crews in a ‘live aboard’ posture with power carts connected to their

aircraft and lunch wagons nearby. We all assumed SAC was in

DEFCON 2. Then it really sunk in that we may be going to war. We

went into crew rest, our tankers were loaded with fuel and generated

to alert, and our missions began. Most days we flew two missions a

day—refueling the incoming airborne alert B-52s over the

Mediterranean as they proceeded to their alert patterns off the coast of

the Soviet Union. After the third day, we were advised that our families

had been notified of our whereabouts. As with all SAC warriors, we

took the sudden disruptions in stride. I can’t recall another event in

my 30-year career when there was as much professionalism

demonstrated as I witnessed during that crisis period.

Case in point was a refueling we had one night in the worst weather

for that type operation that I had ever flown in. The visibility was zero

at our refueling altitude. Under any other circumstances, the mission

would have been scrubbed, but our designated B-52 was inbound and

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required fuel to complete its airborne alert mission. I picked up the

bomber’s beacon and gave him the weather situation; he proceeded

toward our rendezvous point. The rendezvous was as perfect as any I

had ever seen—neither aircraft ever had visual contact with the other

until the bomber ‘slid’ neatly in under the rear of the tanker at 50 feet

and got ready to connect with the tanker boom for his fuel. I was

convinced that night that if the electronics worked properly, we could

rendezvous and refuel in any weather condition. I gave great tribute to

the B-52 crew for their skill in completing the maneuver; they had

already been airborne for 12–14 hours, and had at least that much

longer to fly—yet they were as fresh and alert as could be. SAC

training and professionalism paid off again and again throughout that

critical crisis period.

General Johnson, then a colonel, was commander of th

SAC contingent at Sidi Slimane, Morocco , at the onset of th

Cuban Crisis : “Sidi had 21 B-47s on alert, ready to launc

against the Soviet Union. In the most dramatic period, whe

the United States was about to intercept the Soviet ship

transporting the missiles to Cuba, I was in the control towe

when two Russian MiG-15s suddenly came roaring down ou

runway. Before I could react, the MiGs were gone. I discovered

later that an American fighter pilot flying out of a base in

Europe had buzzed Meknes Air Base earlier in the day wher

the Russians were training Moroccan pilots!” (Gentleme

warriors are a courtly part of history.)

A story reflecting the intensity of the Cold War days amon

the combat crews and their families was passed on from a

old friend who is credible to the core but wishes to remain

anonymous.

The lives of SAC air crews were burdened with stress-filled routines of

training, flying, exercises, SIOP target study, and alert duty. There was

very little a crew member could take home and discuss with his wife,

especially anything related to his highly classified SIOP mission planning.

At a remote SAC base once, a gala party was ongoing at the officers’ club

and the band was playing loudly, when over the din of noise a wife was

heard to yell to another: ‘Why should you worry, my husband is assigned

Moscow.’ The wing commander promptly had all doors to the club locked,

stopped and dismissed the band, and ushered everyone into a room

where he admonished husbands and wives alike for the apparent breach

of security of very sensitive information. He then directed all of the

officers to report to the wing planning office, called in the planners who

were not present, and proceeded to reassign all SIOP targets. They all

remained there for most of the night studying and certifying their new

mission assignments.

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Most who did not live the life of a Cold Warrior had no ide

of the stress and the intensity that pervaded the depths of th

Cold Warriors’ lives. Col Al Lebsack, former B-36 combat crew

flight engineer and, later, SIOP plans officer, reflects on Cold

War stress:

Stress during the Cold War was caused by the physical, mental, and

continuous pressure of knowing and having to process Top Secret

information as a daily way of life. The stress was worry; knowing that

just one slip of the lip could cause career damage to oneself, or even

worse, physical harm to the Country. For me, it was hard to leave my

work in the office and comfortably visit with friends and family

members—I was never at ease around anyone if they tried to discuss

my job, war plans, combat crew duty, or any probing of my work in

the military. The situation never improved. More responsibilities

assumed greater stress. In 1956, as the wing performance officer with

some 60 to 80 different SIOP targets and routes assigned to me—just

knowing that bomber fuel loads, mission profiles and the assigned

combat crew proficiency were the differences between success and

failure if a mission were actually executed. Crews placed their lives on

the line based on my planning accuracy. Knowing that fuel reserves

were always at bare minimums, and that to reach the target, deliver

the weapons and reach the recovery base was never a positive

thought. My concern for the combat crew was always present in every

facet of my calculations. Why more individuals associated with the

SIOP daily did not become mental casualties, I’ll never know.

Lt Gen Dick Burpee tells a story about Soviet Marshal Serge

Akhromeyev’s visit to the SAC bomber and missile units a

Ellsworth AFB, South Dakota, in 1988. General Burpee wa

commander of Fifteenth Air Force, and the chairman of the Join

Chiefs had asked him to host Marshal Akhromeyev’s visit.

The marshal was impressed with the air and missile crews. He asked a

B-52 pilot his thoughts about dropping nuclear weapons on the Soviet

Union. The young captain thought for a minute and said, “I

understand your question and the impact it would have on your country

and the innocent women and children, but you should know that if the

President of the United States directed me to bomb your country, I

would do it!” The Marshall only smiled. Later, he was introduced to a

young missile officer, 1st Lt Jill E. Nagel, who accompanied him and

his delegation into a Minuteman training simulator. Throughout the

orientation, she answered all of his questions with superb professionalism. The Marshall asked her how she felt about having a nuclear

missile fired at the Soviet Union. She replied: “My job is to maintain the

missiles and make sure they will fire on demand; and Marshall, I want

to assure you the missiles at Ellsworth Air Force Base will do it.”

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The Cold War

Communism got a foothold wherever there was a poor

economic situation—and the enemy became those with

everything. As soon as a populace begins to realize they are

never going to get all they need or want, capitalism (democracy )

begins to get a foothold. Many years ago, an old Spaniard

commented to me that the way for the United States to win the

Cold War was to send a flight of bombers over the Soviet

Union and drop nothing but Sears-Roebuck catalogs. When

the Soviets got evidence of the choices available to democratic

peoples, they would opt for our system.

—Vice Admiral Jerry Miller, US Navy, Retired,

former vice director, JSTPS 

My overriding memory of my Cold War years in SAC is the

great cadre of professionals who made the system work. It

was truly a privilege to be associated with them. In retrospect,

I find it almost incredible that such a group could have been

put together and maintained without the need of the coercion

of conscription. And, truly I think, they served out of love for

their country and the conviction they were essential to its

survival. God knows they didn’t do it for the money (of which

there was often very little) or for the easy life (which they

didn’t have). The work was hard, the life demanding, the

rewards other than personal satisfaction, few and far

between. Separation from family by alerts, TDYs, short duty

tours, and so forth, went with the territory, but that didn’t

make them easy to take. But I loved it, I’m proud I did it, and

I’d do it again if the good Lord would give me the chance. I

really believe that what we did was crucial for the nation; and

that we did it with an elan that would have made Jeb Stuart

proud. Our country is better, and perhaps even exists,

because we passed this way. I love my country without

reservation and consider it the highest of all honors that I had

the opportunity to serve her in a time of need. I think all true

Cold Warriors feel exactly the same way!

—Brigadier General Bill Brooksher, USAF,

Retired, Cold Warrior 

117
(The awesome and enduring massive power and presence o

the US strategic nuclear forces kept the Soviet regime in check

for the whole of the Cold War.)

They Also Served

In conducting research for this project, I attempted to deriv

a measure of thought and reflection from the wives of the Cold

Warriors; they were the most reluctant participants wit

whom I talked. Of them, however, it can truly be said, the

also served! It was common knowledge throughout SAC an

the submarine Navy—indeed, throughout all the fightin

forces—that the greatest burdens of the Cold War often fell on

the wives and families of the Cold Warriors. The combat crew

and the support personnel seemed to always be away whe

they were needed most.

Almost all the wives did finally agree to discuss thei

experiences, with most pointing to the Cuban Crisis as th

most frightening period of their lives. Most combat crewme

were put on alert with their weapons systems, and many wer

literally moved out immediately to forward bases and oversea

locations, forbidden to tell their families where they were goin

or when they would return. Some did not hear from husband

for weeks after their departure. The “war of nerves” tha

pervaded the country only added to their fear and concern.

I was flying B-52Gs out of Ramey AFB, Puerto Rico, whe

the Cuban event began to unravel. We increased our Chrome

dome airborne alert sorties and were either in the air or o

ground-alert with our bombers fully generated and rea dy t

launch. The consequences of the situation, unquestioned

among the crew force, did not fully impact the families unti

the Air Force casualty assistance people began collectin

personal affairs information and requesting each family t

pack for immediate evacuation if necessary.

I was amazed, as were others who have told me since, tha

there was no panic among the wives and children—they simpl

went about their necessary preparations, just in case. Rumors 

of course, were always a part of the Cold Warriors’ lives an

the lives of their families—especially during that tense period

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Many wives participated in support groups, led by other wives

that were very beneficial in providing counsel and comfor

when husbands were away, when rumors were “flying,” o

when an accident happened. Someone once said, “The Ai

Force always gets two for the price of one.” Only one spous

gets paid for serving, but both clearly serve.

This holds equally true for the other military services a

well. The families of the SSBN crews endured great frustration

and maintained great patience as their husbands and father

went on their underwater patrols for “months” without an

word to or from their families.

This has been but a brief acknowledgment of that special grou

of silent and unsung Cold Warriors—the wives and families—wh

carried out perhaps the most difficult responsibilities of all.

119
Chapter 5

Beyond the Call

Strategic Air Command’s (SAC) last training mission for th

Cold War flew on 31 May 1992. On that day, SAC stood down

The command and its hundreds of thousands of assigned

people over the years had served their country and the Fre

World very well—global peace had been maintained for al

SAC’s nuclear delivery systems and combat crews were dis

tributed to other operational and reoriented commands within

the Air Force. The strategic bombers were reassigned to th

new Air Combat Command, the ICBMs to Space Command

and the air refueling tankers to user commands as required. Ou

of SAC at Omaha, a new joint organization was formed—United

States Strategic Command (USSTRATCOM). USSTRATCOM’

primary mission was to plan the strategy and tactics of U

strategic nuclear forces in the event of war, and to execute th

plan if necessary.

The US Navy retained command and control of its SSBNs, wit 

planning and execution also residing with USSTRATCOM

During the 46 years, 2 months, and 10 days of SAC’s life

2,638 combat crew fatalities were recorded. The record

however, does not include fatalities that could not be officially

attributed to SAC operations due to the sensitivity of th

missions at the time. These resulted principally from classifie

reconnaissance missions that, in time, will be declassified. Onl

then will proper recognition be given to those Cold War heroe

and their families for their ultimate sacrifice. To recogniz

each individual whose heroism is so deserving would fill a

entire book; I will therefore highlight only a few in this segmen

In doing so, I join my former colleagues in offering the highes

praise to all who remain on the honor roll of Cold Warriors.

One of the very first Cold Warrior heroic achievement

occurred on 8 May 1954, when Capt Harold (Hal) Austin an

his RB-47 crew (copilot Carl Holt and navigator Vanc

Heavlin ) launched on a highly classified mission out o

Fairford Air Base, United Kingdom . Their mission: Make 

daring photographic overflight of Soviet air bases nea

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Murmansk to confirm/deny the reported existence of MiG-1

fighters at three Northern USSR bases.

Other RB-47 “feint” sorties had been flown around th

periphery to get the Soviet ground radar controller

accustomed to foreign traffic in the region. On the day of th

mission, three RB-47s launched and headed around Norwa

toward a “turn-in point” to Murmansk. At a predetermined

point along the route, two of the RB-47s turned around an

headed back to their home base, leaving the single reconnais

sance aircraft and crew to proceed over the Soviet airfields

The lone RB-47 “coasted in” at 40,000 feet, considered saf

from the Mig-15s known to be in the area. As the crew com

pleted photographing the first two of six targeted airfields

three MiGs joined their formation in an obvious attempt t

make a visual identification. Later into the flight, six

additional MiGs joined the formation to “get a look at the RB

Identified as MiG-15s, they did not attempt any maneuverin

at such a high altitude. By this time, the RB-47 crew ha

completed taking pictures of the next two airfields and th

Soviets had confirmed the RB-47’s identity. They had als

launched six more fighters—this time MiG-17s, which ha

more than enough capability to out-maneuver the RB-47 an

shoot it down. The MiG-17s immediately began firing at th

reconnaissance aircraft, but without success. Meanwhile

copilot Holt began trying to get his thoroughly “cold-soaked

and malfunctioning 20-mm tail guns to fire. He finally coaxed

the guns to fire a couple of bursts, causing the MiG pilots t

back off. One of the braver Soviet pilots finally did make a

extremely close firing pass, hitting the “RB” in the left win

and knocking out the intercom radio system. Captain Austin

continued on his mission, taking photos of the remainin

airfield targets. The MiGs continued to make firing passes a

the “RB” until it was well out of Soviet territory, but they failed

to make any further hits. The RB-47 crew, now low on fuel

managed to get back over the United Kingdom, where the

“hooked up” with a KC-97 tanker and took on enough fuel t

land at Fairford. According to the crew—who were invited

back to Omaha to personally debrief General LeMay—th

intelligence people were ecstatic with the Soviet airfield

photographs, as well as one close-up of a MiG-17 making 

122
close pass under the RB-47. General LeMay commented

“There are probably several openings today in [the Soviet

command positions there, since you were not shot down.” Th

copilot said, with considerable innocence, “Sir, they wer

trying to shoot us down!” LeMay, in a typical response an

without so much as a grin, said, “What did you think the

would do, give you an ice cream cone?” After the debriefing

General LeMay quietly awarded two Distinguished Flyin

Crosses to each of the three crew members, commenting tha

he would award them the Silver Star except that he would

have to go to Washington for approval and that would tak

“too much explaining.” (Hal Austin and Carl Holt tell thei

story in the Spring 1995 Daedalus Flyer.)

Just a week before this daring flight, on 29 April 1954, tw

Royal Air Force crews, flying US-provided RB-45C aircraf

allegedly flew an even more provocative photoreconnaissanc

mission over Moscow and returned unscathed. These crew

were among the more fortunate “recce” warriors.

On 28 April 1958, during a routine B-47 combat crew

training mission out of Dyess AFB, Texas, one of the aircraft’

engines exploded and caught fire. When the fire couldn’t b

extinguished, the pilot ordered the crew to bail out. Th

copilot, 1Lt James E. Obenauf, could not get his ejection sea

to fire, so proceeded to climb down to the navigator’s escap

hatch where he could bail out manually. He found th

instructor navigator, Maj Joseph Maxwell, unconscious

Obenauf tried to revive him so they could both escape th

aircraft, but was unable to do so. Obenauf then climbed back

into his copilot seat and brought the B-47 under control (th

fire had extinguished itself). He then proceeded to descen

and head back to Dyess. Sitting in the rear copilot seat, wit

the incredible wind lashing his face from the open cockpi

Obenauf landed the aircraft safely and saved Major Maxwell’s

life. (Obenauf almost lost his eyesight in the process, and hi

near-impossible feat provides another great example o

professionalism, discipline, bravery, and airmanship no

untypical of the Cold Warriors.)

The last year of the Eisenhower administration saw 

considerable increase in airborne reconnaissance activity

designed to evaluate Soviet advances in both fighters an

123
ICBMs. The CIA, convinced that the Soviets were deployin

long-range missiles at remote launch sites, petitioned th

president for “one U-2 flight per month” to confirm thei

suspicions. Previous U-2 photographs had been impressive

providing evidence of Soviet activities in all categories.

Both the CIA and the Joint Chiefs assured Eisenhower tha

it would be “years” before the Soviets would have a shoot-dow

capability against the high-altitude U-2. Senator and presiden

tial candidate John F. Kennedy was hammering away at hi

“missile gap” theme. The president, however, was convinced tha

the Soviets were not creating a “missile gap” and that he coul

avoid going to Congress for additional DOD funds in an election

year. So, “just days before” the scheduled Paris Conference

which would be attended by Premier Nikita Khrushchev.

Gary Powers, a civilian Cold Warrior recruited from the Ai

Force by the CIA, was chosen to fly this “last” U-2 mission. H

took off from Peshawar, Pakistan on 1 May 1960. He wa

scheduled to fly a circuitous route (to avoid known SAM sites

to Stalingrad, the Tyura Tam missile test facilities, nuclea

power plants in the Ural Mountains, suspected ICBM sit

construction at Yurya, a known ICBM site at Plesetsk

submarine pens at Severodvinsk, and the naval base a

Murmansk. He was to land at Bobo, Norway.

Powers was well along into his flight, 1,300 miles into Sovie

territory, when he was hit by an SA-2 Fan Song antiaircraf

missile . His altitude was never revealed, but he was probabl

flying at 70,000–80,000 feet. That Khrushchev was partici

pating in the annual May Day celebration in Moscow when h

received notification of the shoot-down was coincidental—an

probably unfortunate for Gary Powers.

 President Eisenhower was informed when Powers wa

overdue at Bobo, but US authorities were as yet unaware tha

he had been shot down. A brief game of “poker” then ensued

The Soviets set a trap by revealing only photographs of th

wreckage; there was no mention of the pilot. The US position

was that there had been an “unfortunate incident involving a

errant navigation flight which strayed off course.” Authoritie

in Washington believed Powers had been killed and the U-2

completely destroyed. They were “sure” that the timing explo

sives would have been armed when Powers ejected and th

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aircraft would have been completely destroyed. If true, th

Soviets would be unable to disprove the US position.

As it turned out, Powers could not eject and the timin

device did not destroy the equipment because of damage don

to the U-2 when it was hit. He bailed out manually, fell freel

until his pre-set timer opened his parachute at 15,000 fee

and was quickly captured upon landing. The Soviets now ha

“everything”—the U-2 spy plane and its pilot—but Khrushche

allowed Washington to continue creating its “story.” When th

Soviets did finally announce that the Soviets not only ha

the plane but also the pilot, Eisenhower promptly stepped

forward and admitted the whole event. Taken “off-guard” b

Eisenhower’s admission, Khrushchev “played it back” as U

arrogance and contempt.

The U-2 incident generated a few interesting sidebars, on

of which was that Powers, while getting out of his parachut

harness on the ground, saw another parachute descendin

not far away. He thought at first that it might be a missil

booster stage; later, he guessed it probably was a haples

Soviet pilot who had been “in the chase” and had gotte

caught in the barrage of SAMs that had been fired at the U-2

Another story, which was not revealed until 1996, concern

Igor Mentyukov, a Soviet pilot. Mentyukov reported to th

Russian newspaper Trud that he had been sent aloft in a

“unarmed” Sukoi Su-9 (Fishpot B) interceptor to locate an

“ram” the U-2. He said he overtook the U-2 and “it got int

(my) slipstream and its (the U-2’s) wings fell off.” He also said

his story had been “covered up” by the Kremlin to avoid

“weakening the faith” in the Soviets’ air defense capabilities.

An RB-47 reconnaissance “ferret” mission flown on 1 Jul

1960 over the Barents Sea did not fare as well as did Ha

Austin’s earlier mission. Ferret missions were designed to fl

along Soviet borders and collect electronic emissions from

radars and communications transmitters. On this particula

flight, commanded by Maj Willard G. Palm , the crew included

Capt Bruce Olmstead (copilot), Capt John McKone (navigator)

and three electronic specialists (Ravens): Maj Eugene E. Posa

Capt Dean B. Phillips, and Capt Oscar L. Goforth . The RB-4

crew took off from the United Kingdom and headed toward

their surveillance area, skirting around Norway to the Barent

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Sea and 50 miles off the northern coast of the Soviet Union

Just before 3:00 p.m., navigator McKone verified the aircraft’s

position at greater than 50 miles north of Svatis Nos, 

prominent navigation landmark on the coast. At that poin

copilot Olmstead sighted a MiG fighter off the right wing; bu

the MiG disappeared and the crew continued on their fligh

plan. Soon thereafter, Major Palm was surprised to see a MiG

flying just 50 feet off his right wing. As Palm maneuvered hi

aircraft to provide some distance between himself and th

MiG, the Soviet fighter pulled in behind the RB-47 and bega

firing. The first burst from the MiG’s cannons hit two engine

on the left wing, causing the “RB” to go into an uncontrollabl

flat spin. Unable to get the aircraft under control, Palm

ordered the crew to bail out. Only Olmstead and McKone wer

able to successfully eject out of the aircraft, however. Majo

Palm apparently stayed with the aircraft in an attempt to giv

the Ravens time to safely escape and then land the RB-47 a

sea. The flight was monitored by allied radar until it crashed

two hundred miles off the Soviet coast. The Soviets recovered

Major Palm’s body and turned it over to United State

authorities. The three Ravens were never found. McKone an

Olmstead were rescued by the Soviets and charged with

espionage (despite their having been 200 miles off the Sovie

coast). They were released on 24 January 1961, after seven

months in prison, on orders from Khrushchev. Their release wa

called a goodwill gesture to the newly inaugurated Presiden

Kennedy. Meanwhile, Gary Powers remained in a Soviet prison fo

more than a year afterward—until he was released in exchang

for Col Rudolph Abel, a convicted espionage agent being held in

the United States.

On 14 October 1962, Maj Richard S. Heyser, flew a SAC U-2

over Cuba and made the first photographs showing construc

tion work on Soviet IRBM emplacements. Thereafter, U-2

reconnaissance flights over Cuba continued on a daily basi

for two weeks—until 27 October, when Maj Rudolph Anderson

was shot down by a Soviet-built antiaircraft missile. US rada

controllers tracked Anderson’s aircraft from the time it took of

at McCoy AFB, Florida, until the moment it was shot down

Major Anderson was killed, his body strapped in the wreckag

of the U-2. The Cubans held his remains until United Nation

126
Secretary-General U Thant made a personal appeal to Fide

Castro for their return.

These are but a few examples of Cold Warrior heroism in th

face of a hostile enemy. In contrast with the Soviets, who fired

upon US reconnaissance aircraft over international water

numerous times, North American Air Defense (NORAD) fighter

never fired upon any Soviet aircraft despite their having mad

hundreds of flights along and over US and Canadian border

during the Cold War years. At least 75 US aviators were killed

by the Soviets while conducting operational surveillanc

missions—mostly over international territories.

Following the Cuban Crisis, tensions remained high

wherever US and Soviet military forces converged, particularl

in Europe. On 10 March 1964, a US RB-66 reconnaissanc

aircraft was flying along the East German border on 

photographic mission while being carefully radar-monitored

by allied ground controllers. For reasons never fully explained

the pilot flew the RB-66 directly into East Germany instead o

making a scheduled turn away from the border. The groun

controllers tried to warn the crew of their navigation error, a

first in coded messages and then in the clear—all to no avail

When the aircraft was approximately 16 miles inside Eas

Germany, it was intercepted by a MiG fighter and promptl

fired upon. Capt David Holland, recognizing that the aircraf

was hit and severely damaged, ordered his navigator, Cap

Melvin Kessler, and his electronics officer, Lt Harold Welch , t

bail out. All three were picked up by the East Germans. Th

United States immediately initiated contacts to return th

airmen, but the efforts were bluntly refused. Lieutenan

Welch, who had suffered a broken leg and a broken arm, wa

released 11 days later. Eighteen days after the shoot-down

and after many charges and countercharges by US and Sovie

officials, the remaining two crewmen were also released. Th

United States and its European allies had strong suspicion

that the RB-66 had been lured over the border by fals

navigation signals (the Soviets had used this tactic before)

Several US and allied aircraft were lost during the Cold Wa

due to signal-spoofing and communications jamming by Eas

German and Soviet controllers. At least 31 US reconnaissanc

aircraft were shot down by the Soviets during the Cold War

127
and several American crew members were never accounted

for. More often than not, Soviet or related rescue vessels o

teams were quick to respond to these downed aircraf

locations; but there was always denial by the Soviets that an

crew members survived unless there was a political o

propaganda advantage in admitting their survival.

The US Navy suffered the worst submarine disaster in

recorded history on 10 April 1963, when the nuclear-powered

USS Thresher did not return from a test and evaluation div

with 129 personnel onboard. Although built on an attack

submarine keel, Thresher was in fact a prototype for the Navy

which wanted a “killer” attack boat that would later serve as 

more advanced SSBN. The Thresher’s long cylindrical-teardrop

hull was designed to enhance speed and maneuverabilit

while submerged, and to create a quieter “glide” through th

water to avoid detection.

The concept behind Thresher was to create the quietes

submarine in the world that would also be the best “hunter” in

the world. Her improved sonar “listening” system had over 1,00

transducers and hydrophones for longer range and more precis

detection of other submarines and ships. The Thresher concep

also called for larger personal space for the crew (although thi

was almost never achieved in submarin es), easier and mor

simplified operating systems, weapons handling, and firin

systems, and a revolutionary fresh-air generating system tha

would permit longer periods of deep submersio n.

All of Thresher’s “moving parts”—generators, pumps, engin

drive shaft, and fluid circulating systems—were flexible

mounted to absorb vibration and noise. The major shortfall in

this revolutionary submarine was in the mating and weldin

of her structural members and pipes, which had to withstan

tremendous sustained pressures at great ocean depths

Thresher suffered several pipe failures under extreme pressur

long before commissioning. After commissioning, sh

encountered eleven fires (six at sea and five in dry dock)

ramming by a tug while in port, and electrical failures. Of he

625 days of life after commissioning, Thresher spent 406 day

in port or dry dock due to various problems. Thresher

advanced technology was there, however, and the Navy’s nuclea

underwater force became an integral part of deterrence.

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Thresher was under the command of Lt Comdr John W

Harvey and Lt Comdr Pat M. Garner when she departed

Portsmouth, New Hampshire, Navy Yard for postoverhaul an

further sea trials on 9 April 1963. The crew included 1

officers and 96 enlisted men. Also on board were four staf

officer-observers and 17 civilians, for a total of 129 personne

Thresher rendezvoused with the submarine rescue ship

Skylark , which was to provide surface communications durin

the dive exercises; they would be Thresher’s final exercises.

There has been considerable speculation, but no complet

agreement, regarding the actual circumstances surroundin

the loss of Thresher. Five years later, the SSN Scorpion dis

appeared in the mid-Atlantic with 99 men on board, en rout

from its Mediterranean patrol back to Norfolk, Virginia 

Despite these devastating losses, the Navy continued to de

velop its underwater stealth technology and improve it

capabilities. The nuclear submarine fleet became a formidabl

Cold War first line of deterrence, completing over thre

thousand SSBN patrols without incident.

B-52 operations also produced their share of heroes

including prisoners of war in North Vietnam and fatalitie

during both training and combat missions. The first bombin

mission by B-52s over Vietnam , which occurred on 18 Jun

1965, proved to be a disaster for SAC. Twenty-seven B-52F

launched out of Guam to bomb Vietcong positions in Sout

Vietnam. Two of the bombers collided in midair befor

reaching the target area. Both flight crews were lost, includin

Maj Gen William J. Crumm, commander of Third Air Division o

Guam, who was serving as flight leader on the mission

Furthermore, the bombing mission was almost totally ineffective.

At the end of hostilities, however, SAC B-52s were credited

with bringing North Vietnam to the negotiating table. Hun

dreds of other crew members were lost in bomber and tanke

mishaps during the Cold War years—all giving their “last ful

measure of devotion” to their country.

There were two major mishaps involving Titan II missile

during the latter days of the strategic system. The firs

occurred at McConnell AFB, Kansas, on 24 August 1978

when the Stage I booster nitrogen tetroxide oxidizer bega

leaking in the silo. Two crew members were fatally injured, th

129
missile was severely damaged, and the civilian inhabitants in

the surrounding area were evacuated from their homes. Th

second Titan II accident occurred on 18 September 1980 a

Little Rock AFB, Arkansas, when leaking missile fuel caused

an explosion in the ICBM silo. The launcher closure door wa

blown off the silo and the nuclear warhead was found severa

hundred yards from the site. Two crew members were fatall

injured and the launch complex was totally destroyed

Although lives were lost, the nuclear system’s safety feature

prevented what might have been a national disaster. Con

gressional hearings and a “Blue Ribbon” committee reviewed

the accident and certified the Titan II weapon system safe an

effective. These accidents point to the inherent dangers faced

by all nuclear weapon systems Cold Warriors.

The Cold Warrior lived in a tense and often frightening uni

verse all its own. It was an environment that most people—th

very people who were being protected—could never know. Th

Cold Warriors lived in alert facilities, missile silos, submarine

beneath the oceans, and bombers in the air. They were seldom

at home with their families or enjoying the recreationa

activities their civilian peers were enjoying. Often, there wer

political and/or media reactions to the great expenditure

required to maintain our awesome weapon systems. Som

argued that the money would be better spent for socia

services. One could easily counter this argument, however, b

pointing out that a nation can give no greater social service t

its people than their security.

Many citizens never really grasped the gravity of the Cold

War; they were not personally touched by it, and they were neve

aware of the persistent dangers posed by our Cold War enemies

But the wives and families of the Cold Warriors understood.

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Chapter 6

The Soviet Cold Warrior

The world surrounding the Soviet Cold Warrior was far differen

from that of his counterpart in the United States and the Wester

world. Since tensions began to relax in the 1980s, a great dea

of information has accumulated about the Soviet military an

the Soviet people, and about the harsh conditions they endure

behind the now tattered Iron Curtain. The information has com

mostly in the form of books and documentaries by Russia

authors, some written during the Cold War, some written afte

the “thaw.” Other information has come from “internal

documents developed for consumption by the Soviet militar

and from Russian newspaper and magazine articles. Many o

these fall into the category of heavy propaganda. Only in ver

recent years have the more critical reviews been released.

Even at their very best, the Soviets’ military forces were th

“Achilles’ heel” of the empire. Manning and maintaining 

standing military force has been difficult in Russia over th

ages, in great part due to persistent policies of forced con

scription. From the early days of the Mongol enslavemen

through the tsars and the communists, soldiers were forced

into service and treated as chattel. Officers, on the other hand

were appointed by the governing entity—more often than not

from the aristocracy. Training came in the form of forced duty

forced labor, and severe discipline. From the beginning

Russian soldiers were conscripted from the peasantry. Poorl

educated, they were accustomed to living and working in

mostly undesirable circumstances. Prior to Peter the Grea

Russian soldiers were mustered into service for a particula

campaign, then released back to their former life.

After Peter the Great created Russia’s first standing army

soldiers and sailors were forced into service virtually fo

life—or for death! Most never returned to their homes, man

dying from disease rather than a bullet. Those who did surviv

to return home, having been released because they were of n

further use, might find their homes and families gone

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Ghosts of the past, they were usually not welcome becaus

they represented a further burden to the community.

Always unpopular in Russia, military service became eve

more unpopular under Soviet rule. Men and boys eligible fo

conscription often fled their homes and hid until they wer

found—or were turned in by a neighbor for a reward. Self

mut ila tion found its way into the twentieth century as potentia

conscripts cut off fingers, damaged eyes, or severely damaged

a foot. After conscription, desertion was a persistent problem —

until the later years, when the KGB and the border guard

allowed few to escape. And deserters were subjected to bruta

punishment, which was almost always carried out in front o

the deserter’s assembled organization.

Lenin attempted to motivate service in the Red Army b

imposing military pedagogy , “the science of communist educa

tion, training, and indoctrination of the Soviet soldier and th

preparation of sub-units and ships for successful operation

under the conditions of modern warfare.” The purpose o

military pedagogy was to quell unrest and dissatisfactio

among the ranks by instilling patriotism and communis

ideology into their drab lives. Therefore, political indoctrinatio

became an integral part of Soviet military training. Th

communists determined that a standing military force would

be necessary to both defend their paranoia and intimidate th

rest of the world.

The Soviets created at least three programs designed t

indoctrinate young men and women. The Young Pioneers

program featured a weekly military indoctrination period in

the public school curriculum. Students were taught the basi

military crafts—map reading, marksmanship, and first aid

They participated in field trips and exercises conducted to giv

them practice in the learned skills. The official Young Pionee

handbook was the Tovarishch , which contained descriptions o

Soviet military roles and missions along with photographs o

Soviet military equipment, including tanks, aircraft, uniforms

and insignia. Young Pioneers also learned about Communis

Party policies as well as policies of the Soviet Government, an

were indoctrinated on the requirement for a strong military.

The second youth program created to influence Soviet yout

was the Komsomol, or Young Communist League, which wa

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aimed at young adolescents to both inspire patriotism an

foster antagonism towards noncommunists. The program wa

generously filled with Marxist-Leninist ethics and communis

“morality” designed to motivate the young Soviet male t

properly present himself to the district Military Commissaria

(draft board) when he reached the age of 18. The Komsomo

also had a dark side—it encouraged spying on family mem ber

and neighbors. Komsomol youth were trained to report an

activities, conversations, or correspondence that might b

interpreted as anti-government.

The Dosaaf, the Volunteer Society of Cooperation with Arm

Aviation and the Fleet, was created in 1951 as a “defense

patriotic organization.” The purpose of Dosaaf was to promot

active cooperation for strengthening Soviet military capabilitie

and preparing workers to defend their homeland. At its peak

Dosaaf’s membership was estimated at 80 million workers an

students (over 14 years of age). Dosaaf was characterized in

Soviet journals as a sportsmanship club, but its interest

clearly lay in paramilitary activities, weapons handling

marksmanship, parachuting, light aircraft flying, and sailing

All students of fourteen years and older were expected to join

Dosaaf, as were their teachers and administrators. Dosaaf ha

a direct tie to the Soviet military under the Law of Universa

Military Obligation, which required “call-up” of civilian worker

and youth for training as communicators, drivers, radi

technicians, and so forth. Dosaaf paid particular attention t

students who demonstrated interest in communist doctrine an

military skills (as potential officers). The Soviets assigned a high

priority to Dosaaf, always placing a four-star military officer a

its head.

One would think that all the attention given to youn

Soviets would lead them to eagerly serve their country—tha

young patriots full of communist zeal would flock to th

district commissariats when they became eligible. There i

ample evidence, however, that none of these programs wer

effective and that young eligibles often had to be tracked dow

and forcibly sent off to boot camps. The likely reason is tha

the Soviets, in typical fashion, out-propagandized themselve

with their elaborate preparation programs. When young Sovie

men returned to their home villages after two or more years o

133
conscripted service, they brought stories of abuse, sever

punishments, and food deprivation. They had a general hatred

for the communist military and a genuine fear that they migh

have to go back. Next we will review in more detail th

reported ways of life for Soviet Cold Warriors.

The Conscript

Virtually every young male reaching age 18 in the Sovie

Union could expect to be conscripted to serve for at least tw

years in one of the five branches of the military—Red Arm

(ground forces), Strategic Rocket Forces, Air Defense Force

Air Force, or Navy. There was also the possibility of bein

drafted into one of the KGB activities—frontier border guard

or internal security troops. If and when the conscript wa

discharged, his service was not necessarily finished. He took 

new uniform home with him to keep ready for possible recal

until he reached the age of 50. The Soviets, with paranoia a

an integral part of their psyche, consistently planned thei

requirements far in excess of the demand. They were alway

planning for what they believed might be necessary.

A considerable part of the Soviets’ paranoia, which date

back to the beginning of their harsh history, was punctuated

by communist control over the 70 years of the twentiet

century. The paranoia extended to their 22,500,000 squar

kilometers of territory—more than the United States, Wester

Europe, and China combined—which was always surrounded

by potential “enemies.” Therefore, the entire perimeter had t

be patrolled in one form or another. The Cold War year

served to intensify their requirements for more and mor

troops in uniform. Conscripts were brought from every corne

of Russia and the Warsaw Pact countries—even many Jew

were called up to serve in the various branches of the military

Thousands of “stragglers,” picked up along borderin

countries, suddenly found themselves in a remote Soviet “boo

camp.” During the tense years of the Cold War, there was 

persistent suspicion in the west that Soviet soldiers were “te

feet tall.” Soviet propaganda, the worldwide media, and 

134
tightly closed society accounted to a large degree for thes

perceptions.

The world finally learned the truth, of course, as the grea

Soviet “war machine” ground to a halt. A cleverly developed

US Army intelligence report of the early 1980s concluded

“Despite the fact that the Soviet Army projects itself as th

best equipped, largest tactical and strategic military force in

the world, Western analysts can now speculate whether the ma

of steel has entrails of straw.” It goes on to say, “The Sovie

military is a brutal insensitive world where the military ethos i

still locked in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries.”

It has been estimated that prior to 1990, the Soviet militar

forces required a continuous influx (1.8 million annually) o

young people, mostly boys, to keep the five military service

and the KGB uniformed forces up to their desired strength

The “raw material,” which included emigres and “strays,

came from all parts of the Soviet bloc countries. Every distric

in the Soviet Union had an office of the military commissariat

which acted as a “draft board” for conscripting recruits. Thes

offices maintained files on all male children, from birth to th

age of 18, at which time they were eligible for conscription

The files also contained ethnic, social, political, health, an

school records, along with character references and records o

participation in the Young Pioneers, Komsomol, or the Dosaaf

At “roundup” time, all of the draft-eligible young men wer

“interviewed” by pokupateli, recruiters from the five militar

branches who came around annually to select recruits. Th

Air Force and the Strategic Rocket Forces were given firs

priority for the better educated, brighter, and politicall

motivated boys. The less educated and less intelligent—bu

physically healthy and strong—went to the Navy; the remainde

went to the Army, the Border Troops, and so on.

The recruiters were always looking for officer candidates fo

their service branches. To reduce escape opportunities, recruit

were almost always put aboard a waiting train immediately afte

they were assigned to a service branch. They would likely no

return to their home area for the duration of their enlistmen

As recruits completed their initial indoctrination and training

they were almost always stationed as far away from thei

135
home districts as possible. The only exceptions were thos

recruits specially selected for the Border Troops.

As within any culture in the world, however, even in th

Soviet Union, recruits found ways to evade conscription. In

addition to self-mutilation, which we referred to earlier

money and bartering were used to influence the loca

commissariat. Alcohol, food, and livestock were the mos

common bartering good s.

The young Soviet recruit all but lost his identity at boo

camp. Stripped of his clothing and personal possessions, h

was deloused, had his head shaved, and was issued a

ill-fitting uniform. He was also required to sew white clot

strips on the inside neck of his shirts for daily cleanlines

inspections. By now, he was probably wondering wha

happened to the “grand picture” that had been painted for him

by the youth leaders in his school and in his district.

Once out of boot camp, the recruit began training for th

type of duty he had been selected for. After he completed thi

specialized training, his two-year tour of duty began—thre

years if he was selected for the Navy or the Coastal Securit

Force. He would have little opportunity to leave his assigned

base, meet girls, eat in a restaurant, or visit his family

Contributing to this austerity was the fact that most Sovie

military installations were located in remote areas, far from

urban developments. (Some American Cold Warriors though

of Minot, Grand Forks, and Holy Loch as “remote”!)

Also contributing to the Soviet conscript’s unhappy life wa

inadequate compensation. Up to and through the 1980s, th

conscript received R3.50 (3 Rubles, 50 Kopecs—equivalent t

$6.50) per month. Since then, inflation has skyrocketed and i

is difficult to make any sense of an estimated comparativ

rate. Conscripts were “guaranteed” ten days of leave tim

during their two years of service, but often no leave was eve

granted. And even when leave was granted, the conscrip

usually could not go home because home was too far away

and he had no money for train fare.

Turmoil within Soviet enlisted ranks was a persisten

source of concern, but it was kept secret by the strictest o

security measures. Another source of unrest, beyond tha

already described, was the food provided to the troops. Riot

136
were alleged to have broken out because the food provided

was of the lowest quality and in inadequate quantities. Suc

riots almost always led to severe punishment for th

instigators. Most of the food served at Soviet installation

consisted of canned meat, canned fish, and hard bread. Ver

few fresh vegetables and/or fruits were served. Salt fish an

salt pork were the usual winter staples, along with a water

porridge called “kasha.” Even when food was available from 

nearby village or farm, the men had no means to pay for i

Therefore, it was not unusual for Soviet soldiers to forage fo

food whenever such opportunities presented themselves

Virtually everyone in the Soviet Union smoked tobacco, an

the young “GI” was no exception despite the fact that the chea p 

est Russian-made cigarettes were 50 Kopecs per package—

one-seventh of a month’s pay. Personal items (soap, sho

polish, toothpaste) also had to come out of their pay.

The lack of nourishing food was also thought to hav

debilitating effects, both physical and mental, on the Sovie

fighting forces. Food deprivation has been prevalent in

Russian armies over the centuries, apparently due to a simpl

lack of interest among Russia’s military leaders. The con

sequences have been poor physical conditions, stomach

disorders, persistent dental diseases, eye problems, an

weight losses among the troops. Nor has the Russian militar

been exempt from problems due to alcohol abuse, which ha

historically transcended all walks of Russian life. Th

enterprising GI could always manufacture alcoholic drink

from variously available products. Coolants are particularl

good sources for today’s soldiers working around vehicles

tanks, or aircraft. Shoe polish spread on bread and left out in

the sun was known to be a popular source for desperat

soldiers. (Poisoning generated by these methods caused th

deaths of many young soldiers.) Drug use and abuse was an

is much less common because drugs are less available an

more expensive. However, “anash” (hashish), and “plan” (a

opium product) have always been available along the remot

southern borders.

The Soviets maintained a strict policy of keeping militar

personnel separated from population areas and civilians

wherever possible. The policy only varied in diverse ethni

137
regions where GIs were given more freedom to interact wit

locals. Stalin established a “resettlement” program utilizin

the military within diverse ethnic states as a “bonding o

cultures” process. Marriage to ethnics was particularl

encouraged in the Baltics and the southern tier (Moslem

states) to promote pacification. A RAND study reported tha

the Soviets took special care to send conscripts from ethni

minorities as far away from their homes as possible t

discourage them from deserting. They were less likely to be 

problem if they were far from their families, and they would

not be available to join in potential uprisings within thei

native cultures if they were far away. Just as the British used

Sikhs for special security operations, the Soviets employed

tough Kazakh soldiers within the internal police to maintain

control over military troops. The RAND study noted tha

whereas a Russian soldier would probably have difficulty in

shooting a dissident female soldier, a Kazakh would not. Thi

was the Soviet military manpower that made up th

“ruthlessly efficient ‘ten-foot tall’ soldier-elitist” whom th

Western Allies worried about throughout the Cold War years.

The Noncomissioned Officer

Only about one percent of Soviet conscripts reenlisted at th

end of their first term. Many, however, remained conscripted

because their unit had no replacements. NCOs in the Sovie

military always remained in short supply due to low

reenlistment rates. The result was a lack of experience movin

up the ranks. The comparatively few NCOs found in Sovie

military units were known to be tough, hardened character

who literally operated their own internal network an

organization. They were generally feared by all, especially youn

recruits, and were left alone by officers. Their businesses include

extortion as well as selling and bartering stolen goods, alcohol

and drugs. They were not good role models for aspiring youn

men who might have sought to remain in service. Mos

conscripts, reflecting their back-home culture, easily fell prey t

the hardened NCOs or by “old hand” conscripts.

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The new recruit was likely to find himself forced to exchang

his newly issued uniform for a used one, or to perform

degrading jobs. Usually, he learned to comply with th

demands placed on him, including demands to turn over hi

meager pay in order to avoid persecution. Many becam

menservants and slaves; others bought their way through th

ordeal, begging money from home and giving it to the thugs.

Even into the modern-day Cold War period, the Sovie

military structure relates back to the dark ages. Training i

minimal, and is always limited to the absolute essentials o

the job to be performed. The caste system is dominant, an

punishments are severe. There is little motivation to perform

professionally. Conscripts are deprived of basic huma

treatment and living conditions. The quality of their lives i

deplorable. It is likely that these factors account in no smal

measure for the extraordinary losses of Russian and, later

Soviet fighting men in wars of the past.

The Officer

The wide chasm between Soviet officers, NCOs, an

conscripts dates back to the days of the Tsars. Due in part t

the lack of a professional enlisted or NCO corps, the Sovie

officer corps is far larger than would be considered necessar

in most armies of the world. Young officers often fin

themselves serving in NCO positions, directly supervisin

conscripts. This situation leads to even more contempt amon

the young enlisted men; they are often essentially the sam

age as their supervising officers. Adding still more unres

even the youngest officers enjoy a much better lifestyle tha

do the conscripts. The average Soviet lieutenant makes twent

times that of the average enlisted troop. The lieutenant als

has unlimited privileges and access to all the vodka he ca

drink. Compared to the conscript, the lieutenant lives an

eats like a king.

Soviet officer candidates were often recruited by the sam

methods and from the same sources as the conscripts. Th

officer candidate was either brighter, had better academi

grades, had performed well in one of the propaganda prep

139
schools, was the son of a bureaucrat, or was a fair-haired bo

who had caught the eye of the district commissariat. In an

case, his early military service—and perhaps his career—

would be a far better experience than that of a conscript from

his community.

At the peak of the Cold War, the Soviet officer candidat

would likely attend one of 136 military academies scattered

throughout the Soviet Union. The Soviet emphasis on militar

officer training far exceeds any country in the world. In th

United States, for example, there are fewer than a dozen full-tim

military academies. (There are, of course, a number of high schoo

and college ROTC programs in the United States.)

Once commissioned, the Soviet officer accepted an obli

gation to serve for at least 25 years. Junior officers, not unlik

those in the United States, serve their initial tours in thei

respective specialties. The Soviets also plan for hardship

assignments and follow-on professional training. Position an

rank stagnation is a natural consequence of the extraordinar

number of officers in the Soviet services.

The typical Soviet officer came from a small town or villag

in Russia or the Ukraine. (The officer candidate route is on

way to avoid conscription as well as the rigors of rural farm

life.) The candidate must be fluent in native Russian, 

requirement that generally excludes ethnic minorities wit

Asian heritage—some candidates of Asian heritage wer

chosen for selective assignments, however.

Except for ship, submarine, and strategic rocket forc

training and duty, the average officer candidate “breezes

through a notably lax training program. Political influence ha

usually been the ladder to military promotions, and Sovie

officers have little prestige among their civilian counterparts

By some estimates, officers rate “4 or less on a scale of 10

among Soviet civilians and businessmen. This low rankin

may be mainly due to the officers’ general arrogance and 

perception that they enjoy both special privileges and highe

living standards. Many of these factors date back to a histor

of military overlords and “ruling class superiority.”

Characterizations of Soviet military officers range from

“boorish” to “stupid” and “drunks.” It is likely that many o

these characterizations came from former conscripts wh

140
personally witnessed the conduct of their 

superiors—bu

civilian observations of officers in various states of drunken

n ess has been the rule rather than the exception. Nor ha

corruption been unknown among Soviet military officers; man

have not been above “working the system” for money or favors

Selling easily acquired vodka and specialty items through th

“black market” has been, and likely still is, one of the mos

prevalent abuses. The selling of awards, decorations, and choic

assignments has also been a flourishing “business.” It has no

been uncommon for a commander to send a young officer o

NCO home on leave for an extended period—if he happened t

be from an area where choice liqueurs, caviar, or furs could b

easily acquired and brought back to his benefactor. Promotion

have been easily acquired through this proces s.

Unit inspections have also been lucrative for both the in

spector and the inspected unit’s commander. The enterprisin

commander—of an army combat unit, a bomber or inter

continental ballistic missile command, or a Naval unit—

seldom fell below the desired grading standard. The inspecto

received immediate material rewards and the commander’s

unit received high ratings on the inspection. Soviet officers

who have readily admitted the prevalence of corruption within

the services, defend themselves by pointing out that thei

corruption is very small in comparison to their civilia

counterparts.

Soviet military leaders never openly condoned corruption, o

course. When Andropov became secretary general, he lectured

the Central Committee on corruption, protection of publi

property, and abuses of office by public and military officials

Soviet leaders also used the Red Star to convey that message

and President Gorbachev issued a plea for integrity an

honesty among public officials. Were these public plea

effective? Hardly! Activities involving corruption, black marke

activities, and Mafia-type crimes are reportedly more prevalen

than ever. However, some of today’s perceived prevalence ma

be due to increased visibility within an increasingly ope

society. In any case, Russian military corruption reflects 

heritage that is deeply rooted in more than 1,100 years o

cultural and social history.

141
Regarding the 

glut of military officers and the lack o

confidence in either enlisted men or NCOs, a story has bee

told about the cruiser Sverdlovsk when it was sent to Britain

for Queen Elizabeth’s coronation in 1952. There were rave

about the conduct and sharpness of the Soviet crew. Later, i

was revealed that the 900-man crew consisted entirely o

specially selected and heavily drilled officers—there was not 

single enlisted man aboard the ship.

Attendance at advanced professional schools for officers wa

a mandatory requirement for advancement. However, accordin 

to some who either attended or taught courses there, th

schools did not receive high marks for academic challenges o

in-depth training. Edward Lozansky, a former secretary for 

human rights commission in the Soviet Union who was late

deposed, taught physics at the Military Academy of Armore

Forces. According to him, the academic standards at tha

prestigious advanced course for middle-grade officers wer

mediocre at best; the physics courses he taught were equivalen

to those of a high school course in the United States. Even then

it was a stiff challenge for most of the captains and majors wh

attended. Their average grades ranged from “C” to “D.”

Most of the officers came from small communities, far awa

from Moscow and Leningrad, and most would spend thei

careers rotating among military posts far removed from urba

areas. Ordinarily, only those with “political pull” were able t

get posted closer to cosmopolitan life. There are stories, however

of officers languishing in “backwater” locations, overlooked fo

attendance at professional schools, who found themselve

selected to attend a school because they “did a favor” for a

influential senior officer. Such an officer was Lt Col Iva

Dimitrivich Yershov, who was “withering away” at Kushka on

the Afghan border when his unhappy wife left him and moved

to Moscow. Shortly after arriving there, she casually met 

senior general’s wife, Galena Sokolov, and they became fas

friends. Within months, Yershov was selected to attend th

Academy of the General Staff. After graduation, he was assigne

to the General Staff in Moscow and promoted to colonel. Within

a few years, he was promoted to lieutenant general.

Similar “success stories” have occurred in other militar

forces, of course, but Yershov’s story doesn’t end there. H

142
became Chief of Staff of the Kiev Defense Ministry, a position

that carried promise for even greater things to come. Hi

daughter Tatyana, over the protests of her parents, married 

Jew who was an ardent supporter of Andrei Sakharov. Whe

the KGB reported this situation, Yershov was promptl

retired—under circumstances not becoming a Soviet officer

All the “perks” he had enjoyed disappeared. Even his earlie

benefactor shunned him.

The man Tatyana Yershov married was Edward Lozansky

who became a vocal militant for human rights. Soon after h

began expressing his views openly to staff college students

Lozansky was exiled from the Soviet Union with the promis

that his wife could join him later. She was not allowed to leav

the Soviet Union, however, until President Jimmy Carte

personally intervened seven years later.

Unrest was prevalent throughout the Soviet military

Officers fared better than conscripts, whose plight bordered on

forced serfdom, but none were safe from the system’s potentia

wrath. According to many observers, life in the Soviet militar

was miserable and unpredictable for all. Generals had it bes

but even they were not entirely safe. Colonels and below lived

a life mostly filled with fear of their superiors. Remember tha

Stalin , fearful of his senior military officers, purged the Red

Army of its senior leadership in 1937. After World War II, h

“exiled” Marshal Zhukov, the Soviet’s top military leader an

popular hero of the war, to the Odessa Military District in th

Ukraine. Later appointed Minister of Defense by Khrushchev

Zhukov found himself removed from a prominent post ye

again—this time for posing a political threat within the Politburo.

There has been little opportunity for Western militar

observers to observe or interact with their Soviet counterparts

Gen Nathan Twining, chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff

visited the Soviet Union after the war; the next visit by U

officials did not take place until 1969. Only occasionally did

senior Soviet officers attend official social functions at the U

Embassy in Moscow. Only since the late 1980s have émigr

reports, firsthand observations, and written materials sur

faced regarding the internal activities of Soviet military force

We have also learned from several Soviet officers who defected

Lt Victor Belenko, a Soviet pilot, flew a MiG 25 out of th

143
Soviet Union and turned it over to the west. I attended 

small-group interview with Belenko in 1976, when he wa

being “showcased” to a few US military officers by th

Intelligence Community. The young Soviet lieutenant told o

being stationed near Salsk, deep in Southern Russia . He said

the aviators at the base flew very little and drank a lot. H

described Salsk, a city of 60,000, as the most drab, dingy, an

environmentally poor town he had ever seen. The unpaved

streets turned to mud and ruts most of the year. To get insid

one of the two movie houses or the few restaurants, one ha

to wait for hours—then one found that neither the movie no

the food was worth the wait or the money.

Belenko’s next assignment was to a Soviet fighter-intercepto

base near Chuguyevka, in Eastern Siberia . In Chuguyevka

there was neither a movie theatre, a restaurant, nor any stree

lights. It was this posting that gave him the encouragement h

needed to fly his MiG-25 out to Japan. His revelations abou

living conditions, moral conduct, and general disorder wer

very much like others we had seen and heard before.

The Party and Discipline

There were two powerful and influential forces that worked

within the Soviet Military Services that would be difficult t

imagine in the west. The KGB was strongly intertwined within

the Soviet military; its tentacles extended throughout th

service branches, and its agents were always on the lookou

for evidence of disloyalty and apolitical leanings. They seldom

looked for corruption or moral misbehavior unless they wer

building a case against a targeted individual. The other forc

always in play was the “Zampolit,” the political officer. Lenin

originated the political officer concept shortly after th

Revolution as a means of monitoring the loyalist remnants o

the Tsar’s army and as a purveyor of communist doctrine t

the masses. The Bolsheviks characterized the Zampolit mission

as a “program of public enlighten ment.”

As the communist movement engulfed Russia and, later

the Soviet Union, the Zampolit concept became an integra

part of every military commander’s functional responsibility

144
Virtually every recruit and officer candidate had already com

in contact with a Zampolit during his indoctrination in th

Dosaaf or the Komsomol. The Zampolit, an avowed an

aggressive communist zealot, was specially trained for hi

role. The higher the command level he interacted with, th

greater his special training to deal with senior officers at th

highest level. The Zampolit’s early mission was to find an

dispel any and all signs of religion or religious overtone

expressed by young people, and to “imbue in military per

sonnel the atheistic world-outlook through which they could

learn to recognize all that is excellent and noble lies in

communist morality.”

The Zampolits were in a large sense evangelists of the mos

ardent communist style. A few of their “attack lines” ar

included here:

Unauthorized barbaric methods of war-making are characteristic of

the U.S. Army. We know for instance of the unseemly role performed

by the ‘Special Forces’ and the ‘Green Berets.’ Their basic

requirements are to have strong fists, a minimum of intellect and a

faultless reputation for sadism and cruelty. The mission of these

cut-throats also includes appropriate conditioning of other U.S. troops

to secure a similar level of expertise in inhuman actions, a

propaganda arm with close ties to the ‘John Birch Society’ and the

‘Minutemen,’ and in combination they conduct schools on anticommunism and hate seminars.

Chaplains act, not only as reactionary propagandists but also as spies

and spiritual overseers, specialists in detecting political nonconformity

and unreliability. This may be a classic case of ‘the pan calling the

kettle black’! Air Force chaplains instill in the pilot’s conscience an

obscurantist attitude concerning ‘the inevitability of wars’ and

enkindle in them a spirit of bellicosity, self-confidence, and

aggressiveness. The large majority of air crew officers are believers

that they are ‘God’s apostles.’

[Air Command bomber crews were] carriers of death and [are] those

who are indoctrinated with misanthropic and chauvinistic views and

ready on the word of command to drop bombs on peaceful cities of the

Soviet Union and other socialist countries.

Many Soviet commanders ‘crossed swords’ with their assigned

Zampolits over issues of decision making, unit supervision, discipline,

and so forth. There is strong evidence that the political officer usually

won. The cases of General Yershov and Marshall Zhukov carry strong

overtones of KGB and Zampolit influence.

145
The Soviet Triad

The Soviet strategic forces were similar to those of th

United States, with the Soviets placing a greater emphasis on

ICBMs and SSBN/SLBMs than on strategic bombers. Th

Strategic Rocket Force (SRF), the fifth major branch of th

Soviet Armed Forces, was first identified in 1960. It imme

diately became the preeminent service and was given th

highest priority for selection of recruits and officer candidates

The military commissariats, the Komsomols, and the Dosaaf

were alerted to be on the lookout for exceptionally talented an

bright students to be conscripted for the SRF. The sole mission

of the SRF was to operate the ICBM force. Second in priority wa

the Long-Range Air Force (LRA). Candidates for both the SRF

and the LRA usually came from the “educationally privileged

sector of Soviet society. The LRA enjoyed a more attractiv

“calling card” for young officer candidates, but the SRF ha

priority. Political “string-pulling” played a large role in

determining which branch would get the candidate.

The LRA candidate would probably have completed up t

300 hours of flying training in a precadet program before h

attended the academy. SRF and LRA candidates attended

four-year academy programs that included most of the basi

university courses. Perhaps the major difference between 

Soviet military academy and a US military academy is that 

Zampolit is always present in the Soviet academy, ensurin

that the required courses in Marxist-Leninist history an

economics—the history of the Communist Party—are adequatel

provided and attended. The LRA student will receive a

additional 240 hours of flying training concurrently with hi

academic schedule.

At the conclusion of the academy course, the new officer i

commissioned as a lieutenant; in the LRA, the new lieutenan

is also commissioned as a Pilot Engineer Third Class. Th

most unusual feature of the LRA is that officers, sometimes u

to the grade of major, are assigned as aircraft crew chiefs

These assignments are made because the LRA does not hav

sufficient numbers of qualified NCOs and because puttin

officers in crew chief positions establishes responsibility in th

position. The Soviets attempted to install the rank of ensign o

146
warrant officer to bridge the gap between the enlisted grades

but the program was defeated because junior officers usuall

“adopted” the ensigns as menservants rather than fittin

them in the chain of command. The ensigns also were give

officer privileges, which further removed them from thei

intended use.

Russia and the Soviet Union have had a sea service through 

out their history, and it remains an honorable service. Th

Soviet Navy’s SSBN operations suffered along with the othe

services in procuring quality recruits to serve aboard th

highly technical nuclear submarines. The Soviet Nav

normally consists of 20 percent officers, 10 percent warran

officers, and 70 percent conscripts. The officers and warran

officers have lengthy service commitments, but the Nav

receives the lowest priority in recruit selection. The “braw

over brain” syndrome for Russian sailors dates back to the old

sailing days. There has been evidence, however, that emphasi

has shifted in recent years toward high-quality enliste

technicians for SSBN operations. Nevertheless, the mannin

ratio of officers to enlisted men on Russian SSBN submarine

remains far greater than that of SSBNs in the US Navy an

other Western navies. Although a firm ratio cannot b

determined for today’s Russian SSBNs, the Sverdlovsk stor

indicates that the Soviet Navy had real manning problems in

its SSBN force.

It also appears that the navy suffered the greatest personne

turnover of all Soviet services—an estimated 70 percent ever

three years, with one-sixth of those leaving every six months

One can only guess at the Soviet Navy’s training load and th

concern for proficiency and war-fighting ability that may exis

among its leaders. Consistent documentation has reflected

that the Soviet sailor lived “under conditions not seen in

Western navies in over fifty years,” with miserable pay

unusually harsh discipline at sea, and the traditional over

abundance of communist indoctrination.

Finally, I think it is interesting to review the military per

sonnel force structure of the Soviet Union during the Cold

War, placing it in perspective with what “we thought we knew

versus what “they wanted us to know.” At the peak of the Cold

War, the United States had approximately 2.2 million me

147
and women in its military services; the Soviets maintained

approximately 5.8 million men and women in its five servic

branches. While the percentage of women in the Soviet militar

cannot be determined, the total numbers reflect a ratio of mor

than 21⁄2 to 1 in favor of the Soviets. Evidence from variou

sources suggests that the 5.8 million men and women in Sovie

military service were assigned as indicated below.

(1) 650,000 were assigned to internal security and borde

guard duty, many along innocuous country borders an

shorelines; most would have been irrelevant if hostilities ha

broken out.

(2) 100,000 were assigned to civil defense duties, preparin

and maintaining underground nuclear shelters.

(3) 920,000 in uniform (mostly conscripts who had low

academic standings, were politically unreliable, or wer

generally regarded as unfit for combat duty) were assigned t

public road and railroad construction and maintenance, man

across the Trans-Siberian plane.

(4) 560,000 manned the extraordinary network of aircraf

and missile defense systems extended across the Sovie

Union. (The US average was about 8,000 to operate its ai

defense systems.)

(5) 70,000 troops were assigned to the occupation force in

Czechoslovakia.

(6) 30,000 were assigned to the occupation force in Poland

(7) The number of Soviet troops “maintaining the balance

in East Germany was obscured; estimates range from 30,00

to 100,000.

(8) 495,000 Soviet troops were maintained along th

Chinese border.

(9) Approximately 472,000 were assigned to the Sovie

strategic forces: bombers, ICBMs, SSBNs. (US Strategic Ai

Command and Navy SSBN crews numbered fewer tha

100,000.)

(10) More than 100,000 Soviet troops were assigned t

Soviet military airlift forces. (US Military Airlift Comman

averaged approximately 37,000 personnel.)

148
(11) Approximately 250,000 were assigned to the Sovie

Defense Ministry in Moscow and the other major Sovie

headquarters. (US forces in the Pentagon averaged 60,000.)

(12) 10,000 Soviet troops were assigned to coastal defens

artillery units.

(13) Thousands of troops are assigned to parade duty a

Alabino, just outside Moscow.

(14) More than 70,000 Soviets were assigned as Zampoli

political officers. (Some 3,300 chaplains are assigned to all U

services.)

By coincidence, I was in Kiev, Ukraine, in the Summer o

1992. Riding through downtown Kiev, I commented to m

Ukrainian host that there appeared to be quite a number o

Soviet military officers walking along the streets. He replied

“Too many!” I looked to the interpreter sitting behind us an

asked, “Where are they all going?” She responded withou

hesitation, “They aren’t going anywhere! They have no place t

go. I see the same colonels every day walk along this stree

with their ‘prestigious’ flat briefcases, with nothing in them

Then they walk down the other side, all day long, trying t

look important.” I asked whether they were Ukrainian officer

or Russian. She said, “Russian; there are many Ukrainians in

the Soviet Army, but most of them are far away.” Only on few

occasions did I see enlisted men—and then in a military bu

or open-bed truck, or grouped together in a train car—neve

singularly on the street. They always appeared to be kep

away from the public.

The foregoing assessment constitutes a critical analysis o

the Soviet Armed Forces and a serious indictment of thei

war-fighting capability during the Cold War. One only has t

extrapolate the revealed character, morale, and social deca

among its military forces to wonder how efficient and capabl

they might have been. Military power, as represented by vas

numbers of troops in uniform, was always important to th

Soviets. Using similar reasoning, they placed equal emphasi

on massive numbers of weapon systems.

These large numbers were implanted in the minds of th

west by Soviet propaganda, extravagant May Day demon

strations of capability, and, to a large extent, by our ow

149
media. But the true picture seems to suggest that th

perceived one was created with “smoke and mirrors.” Th

United States and its allies relied heavily on perceptions o

Soviet power from the outset of the Cold War. It was thes

perceptions that greatly promoted development of the larges

weapons programs ever known—on both sides of the Iron

Curtain. Most would argue, however, that we had little choic

since Soviet “smoke” obscured accurate assessments and th

“mirror” reflected both ways.

150
Epilogue

The world has become in many respects a much safer place

than during the Cold War. Unfortunately, it is also still a

dangerous place, fraught with uncertainty.

—Gen Eugene E. Habiger 

Commander in Chief 

United States Strategic Command 

Statement before the 

Senate Armed Services Committe

13 March 1997 

The (Russian) missile force is in the same state of readiness

as ten years ago. My men and missiles are always ready.

—Gen of the Army Igor Sergeyev 

Minister of Defense, 

Republic of Russia 

Interview, 

Novosti Daily Review Moscow 

19 June 1997 

The Cold War has ended. No formal surrender, no capitulation

no declaration by either party that the protracted impasse i

over. Most traditional historians would say that wars don’

end this way; but from mid-twentieth century, this has bee

the pattern of concluding hostilities by the United States an

its allies. Korea, the first hostile engagement after World Wa

II, ended in an unresolved truce; two decades later, a simila

“truce” concluded a ten-year impasse in Vietnam. Othe

engagements that have ended in neutrality include the Sovie

thrusts at Berlin and Cuba, and the cease-fire at the conclusion

of Desert Storm. The ending of the Cold War was consisten

with these dubious settlements.

The unfortunate circumstance of these impolitic trends i

that in each case, the embers continue to glow within th

unsettled coals of the fires that once blazed—perhaps lyin

dormant until an ill wind stirs the flames anew.

The Cold War was singularly unique in the history of U

military-political conflicts. It was the longest standoff in modern

history. The period saw the largest accumulation of the mos

151
sophisticated—and the deadliest—weapons ever developed

Fortunately, none of those weapons of mass destruction wer

ever used.

The “superpowers” engaged in roller coaster diplomac

through numerous changes in political persuasion within bot

governments as the old leaders in the Soviet Union died an

political “solutions” seesawed back and forth in the United

States. The period of conflict witnessed numerous deadl

“sub-wars” fought both directly and indirectly between the tw

major adversaries under the umbrella of the Cold War. And th

span of time saw sons and daughters of earlier Cold Warrior

on both sides replacing their fathers in the bombers, tankers

submarines, and missile silos.

Beneath that umbrella, the Soviet Union used virtually ever

means it could muster to promote the communist manifesto

The Soviets exited World War II with more technology an

economic stability than had existed at any previous time in

their turbulent history. Having taken full advantage o

Western lend-lease programs, and having stolen industries

technologies, and skilled German engineers and scientists

Stalin installed himself as a national hero. Robust with powe

and ego, Stalin made an early postwar declaration that wa

with capitalistic governments was inevitable as long as thos

governments existed.

The Democratic People’s Republic of Korea became a Sovie

satellite in large part because US forces were stretched to

thin to prevent Soviet domination of the North Koreans durin

the closing days of the war with Japan. Stalin moved swiftl

as the war came to a close, mopping up Japanese occupier

with little resistance from either a weakened Japan or th

Allies. On the Western Front, he attempted to exert absolut

control over Berlin. Failing in that effort, he looked for othe

opportunities to test US vulnerability.

Stalin found his opportunity in Korea. North Korean troops

fully armed and trained by the Red Army, moved swiftl

across the 38th parallel into South Korea on 25 June 1950

The North Koreans were soon backed by several hundred

thousand Chinese Army troops who had positioned them

selves to ambush the United Nations forces when they pushed

the North Koreans back into their own territory. The Korea

152
War had a dramatic impact on the Cold War and on US policy

It created an economic and military drain on the United

States, and it presented the challenge of fighting on the othe

side of the world as Soviet military strength was building in

Europe. And, although atomic weapons were deployed with SAC

bombers, US policy was to employ them only as a last resort.

Containment of communism remained the US policy objec 

tive. The Korean War became a disaster in every way—

politically, economically, and militarily, causing a tragic loss o

war fighters’ lives. An estimated 54,000 American fightin

men were killed in action and 300,000 were wounded

Paradoxically, the Soviet Union, which had orchestrated th

invasion to foster its own objectives, recorded no officia

casualties. SAC’s B-29 bombers and RB-29 reconnaissanc

aircraft participated heavily in the war.

SAC operations accounted for 21,328 sorties, including almos

2,000 “recce” missions. Sixteen B-29s were lost to Soviet-buil

MiGs, four to antiaircraft fire. B-29 gunners accounted for 3

enemy aircraft kills, including 16 MiGs. When the cease-fir

truce was finally negotiated, SAC combat crews returned t

their “regular” Cold War mission responsibilities.

A scant twelve years later, in 1965, the United States onc

again found itself falling victim to another communist in

cursion, this time in Vietnam. And SAC combat crews wer

again taken from their nuclear deterrence mission and sent t

fight a conventional war. This time, bomber, tanker, an

reconnaissance crews retrained in a variety of fighter an

support aircraft to support the effort. In the latter years of th

ten-year conflict, B-52s, including the later B-52G model, wer

reconfigured to deliver conventional bombs. Sent to operate out o

Guam and Thailand, they were heavily employed in the war effor

The United States saw five presidents preside over the wors

political, military, and image-defeating debacle in our history.

“How did the United States get into the war and why did i

stay so long?” “How could a nation with the technology an

superior might to destroy the world permit itself to be fough

to a virtual draw by a small and untrained ragtag army o

peasants?” These questions may never be satisfactoril

answered, but Americans fought and died in Vietnam. That i

what they were asked to do and that is what they did. Th

153
Cold Warriors who manned the B-52s flew over 126,00

sorties during the conflict; the recce and tanker crews flew

untold thousands of missions. Air Force EB-66s, along wit

Navy EA-3s and EA-6s, provided electronic jamming. F-105s

F-4s, F-111s, and A-7s flew suppression missions to keep

Soviet-provided MiGs on the ground and SAM sites down.

In the end, Americans watched North Vietnamese tanks an

troops march into Saigon as US Embassy personnel and thei

Marine guards scrambled to evacuate. During both Korea an

Vietnam, two tragic tests of will, American fighting men an

women “stood tall”; they never wavered from their call to duty

The Soviet Union once again “laid low,” obviously waiting fo

the United States to buckle or bankrupt itself—but it didn’

The importance of these events and circumstances lies in thei

reflection of a great nation’s strength, commitment, an

resolve—but at no small cost! It is also important to note tha

while both of these conflicts severely stretched US strategi

nuclear deterrence forces, SAC maintained 40 percent of it

B-52Gs and Hs, and 100 percent of its ICBMs, on full alert. A

the same time, Navy’s SSBN force maintained coverage of al

essential Soviet targets. These were costly periods in terms o

lost lives and lost resources, both physical and economical

but US strategic deterrence remained effective: The Soviet

stood fast!

From the perspective of both the people and the fightin

forces of the United States, the Soviet Union held a loaded gu

at the head of the west throughout the Cold War and wa

prepared to pull the trigger at any moment of perceived U

weakness. The Soviet Cold Warrior was touted as “ten feet tal

and made of steel.” These were the underlying perceptions o

the west. In developing this manuscript, I reviewed more tha

30 speeches I made during my senior officer years and foun

a consistent theme—that the Soviet military force was massiv

and strong, and was technologically capable of destroying th

United States and its allies. This was the general theme o

most Cold War talks and lectures because it was what w

believed, based on the information available. Consequently

the words of Western leaders and experts were translated int

requirements for offensive and defensive military systems t

counter any attack by highly capable and elite Soviet forces

154
US intelligence reports, almost always backed by photograph ic

electronic, and/or human evidence, steadily fed and kindled

the flames of Soviet military capabilities.

That this perception was somewhat overstated is by n

means the fault of US information-gathering systems an

organizations. The Iron Curtain provided a near-absolut

shroud around Soviet political and military regimes—and th

Soviets skillfully practiced the crafts of misinformation

disinformation, propaganda, and mackorova (masquerade)

Capabilities were often “manufactured” to keep the west spec u 

lating and to create false impressions for internal consump

tion by the Soviet people. No other government in history eve

held such a sustained totalitarian grip or such an ironcla

ideology as did the Soviet Union—neither Hitler nor Mao created

executed, or sustained anything close to the virtually absolut

control exerted by Stalin and his successors.

In 1981, after previous administrations had “experimented

and toyed” for decades with strategies to bring the Cold War t

a close, President Ronald Reagan introduced a straightforward

and simple dictum: Prevent war by maintaining militar

capabilities sufficient to win a potential war and demonstrat

the unyielding determination to use whatever it takes to d

so— and to remain consistent, thereby persuading any adver

s ary that the costs of attacking the United States would excee

any possible benefits. The Reagan strategy was described a

requiring effectiveness based upon four premises.

Survivability: The ability of US forces to survive a preemptiv

nuclear attack with sufficient resilience and retaliatory strength

to inflict losses on the perpetrator that would outweigh hi

potential gain.

Credibility: US capability to respond to an attack must be o

a sufficient amount that any potential aggressor would believ

that the nation could and would use it.

Clarity: Actions of any potential aggressor that are no

acceptable must be sufficiently clear to all potential aggressor

so they know what they must not do.

Safety: The potential for failure of any nuclear system

through accident, unauthorized use, or miscalculation mus

be minimized.

155
With these precepts in mind, President Reagan boldl

announced a dramatic expansion of capabilities to support th

strategy:

B-1 Bomber: The previously canceled bomber would be buil

and deployed. Missiles: Ground-launched cruise missile

(GCM) and Pershing IIs would be deployed with US force

assigned to NATO.

Strategic Defense Initiative: The theoretical notion of a Strategi

Defense Initiative (SDI) program was publicly announced.

The SDI (Star Wars) initiative was far more alarming an

provocative to the Soviets than any other threat posed by th

United States during the Cold War. Reagan’s initiatives

although exceptionally costly, brought on dramatic winds o

change in the attitudes of Soviet leaders. They also prompted th

beginning of an unprecedented economic growth in the Unite

States—a growth that persists today, with rapid developments in

technology and a restoration of public confidence. Perhaps mos

important, these initiatives projected a perception of US strength

and will to the leaders of the Soviet Union.

We cannot diminish the importance of Mikhail Gorbachev

arrival on the Soviet political stage during this dramatic period

of demonstrated determination by the US president

Gorbachev no doubt hastened the process of disintegration

within the Soviet Union (as compared to what might hav

been under his predecessor); nevertheless, Reagan’s initiative

were the beginning of the end.

As the Iron Curtain began to fall away, eventually gapin

full open, the unabridged spectacle of the Soviet Union’

skeletal framework was laid bare. The revelations took th

West by shocking surprise. No one could have remotel

imagined or speculated how frail and devastated the whole o

the communist empire was, or how long it had been in a stat

of despair. It was the dire conditions of the people tha

shocked most.

Analysts will work for years to estimate the real depth an

substance of Soviet war-fighting capabilities—despite Sergeyev

quoted assessment, above. There was little question regardin

the Soviets’ conventional land warfare capabilities, mainly du

to the massive numbers of soldiers in uniform. The question

156
regarding the will of those men to fight cannot be answered

although history has witnessed consistent losses by Russia

armies engaged in wars, including World War II until the

were substantially fortified by the Western Allies. There i

considerable evidence that the Soviets had developed land

and sea-based ballistic missiles as well as strategic bomber

near equal to those of the United States. But there ar

questions regarding the efficiency and reliability of thos

systems and the will of Soviet military forces to use them. It i

now reasonably apparent that the United States and its allie

were virtually held hostage as much by smoke and mirrors an

an almost leak-proof society as by real substance.

These are my impressions, and those of many others, of th

surprise and shock of Westerners upon seeing the disorde

and desolation of a vast nation, its cities and its people, whe

the cloak of secrecy eventually opened. After my successiv

visits over a five-year period to the Soviet Union and then th

former Soviet states, I understood the full and devastatin

effects of a communist social order. The old jokes about Sovie

inefficiency, comical failures, and a lackadaisical peopl

enduring personal misery while coping with bureaucrati

bungling—all suddenly became too real; they were not jokes a

all, and they were definitely not funny.

Meanwhile, I could not forget my almost 40 years of bein

convinced that this was a superpower of the highest and mos

efficient order—one that had created an elite war-fighting forc

second to none. As I surveyed the scenes before me during m

many stays in Moscow, Leningrad (St. Petersburg), Kiev, an

Minsk, I frequently reflected on the gleaming cities and home

back in the States—great interstate highways, giant sky

scrapers, comfortable homes with groomed landscapes, and 

well-fed, well-dressed populace that was generally satisfied. In

the former Soviet Union, I mostly saw vast potholes in th

streets of Moscow, and horse-drawn carts moving along wit

the traffic in all of the major cities. I saw rotting produce an

cheap goods, dingy and run-down buildings, and filt

everywhere. But most of all, I saw throngs of pitiful peopl

wandering the streets on the lookout for anything opportune

Except for the lack of war-torn physical damage and battl

casualties, Russia and the former Soviet Union states reflected

157
the consequences of war. The government and the militar

infrastructure have fallen into disarray, the economy is in

virtual collapse, millions of displaced people wander th

streets, and poverty is at an all-time high. At no other time in

recorded history have events unfolded in such a bizarr

manner as did the failure of Soviet communism and the end o

the Cold War.

Nor has any other time seen so much so freely given t

recover adversarial nations as that given to the forme

communist republics. And yet, as has been witnessed an

continues to be, no previous recovering nation has s

frivolously squandered the relief given as have these forme

communist republics. They have freely permitted relief aid t

fall into the hands of their former political and militar

bureaucrats. It is also apparent that even though the United

States and its Western allies won the Cold War theoretically 

the spoils did not necessarily go to the victors. When I was 

Cold Warrior, I perceived the Soviet Union as a superpower

When I traveled to Russia and other states after the Cold Wa

had ended, my earlier impressions quickly faded. And it wa

the menacing Soviet Bear that, despite its having “baited” th

West in Berlin, Korea, Cuba, Vietnam, and dozens of othe

lesser-known areas, bankrupted its economy and its people in

pursuit of a fraudulent social order.

Today, the shadows of the Cold Warriors who stood the tes

remain vividly long and indelible, reminding us that the

fought in a quiet war of nerves through four and one-hal

decades. They served through a revolution of weapon system

technologies more dramatic than in any previous period in

history. But the revolutionary growth in those technologie

and operational hardware, while extraordinary, did no

compare with the dedication of the people who chose to walk 

different path. “Chose” is important because the men an

women who sustained the entire US strategic nuclea

deterrent force chose to serve their country. To their ever

lasting credit, they chose patriotism and service to countr

over other available pursuits. Not a single draftee or conscrip

served aboard a SAC aircraft, in an ICBM launch contro

center, or aboard a nuclear submarine. The Cold Warrior

rode through a tide of soaring technology achievements

158
erratic changes in perceptions of military prestige, and radica

social changes. Yet, they continued to come forward—an

when they moved on, others with the same ideals followed

The term professional seems not quite enough to embody o

characterize the Cold Warrior, but I cannot think of anothe

term that better describes those who willingly served

sacrificed, and excelled during one of the greatest periods o

threat our country has ever known.

I have attempted herein to honor the Cold Warriors, t

accurately characterize their responsibilities and challenges

and to reminisce about their great war-fighting machines. 

have recalled some “war stories,” smiled a bit at the fun an

the not-so-fun times, paid tribute to those who made th

supreme sacrifice, and recognized the spouses and familie

who “came along for the ride and kept the home fires warm.”

I have also reviewed perhaps the saddest spectacles of th

Cold War—the reluctant warriors of the Soviet Union and th

plight of their homeland during the unwarranted sieg

imposed by their own leaders. While the major opponent

sparred during the almost 50 years of the “odd war,” the onl

direct shots fired were at US surveillance aircraft, or thos

“mistakenly thought to be so,” over or near Soviet territory. Bu

it may also be said that the world had almost 50 years o

global peace—peace, however, that was neither tranquil no

assured at any given time.

So the Cold War has ended! Or has it? As we knew it, yes

but the world today perhaps remains just a s unstable as i

was during the 45-year stalemate. ‘Lest we heed the words of th

two former Cold Warriors at the beginning of this final passage.

159
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Index

305th Bombardment Group: 18

4028th Strategic Reconnaissance

Squadron, Laughlin AFB: 66

468th Bomb Group: 31

58th Bomb Wing: 31

7th Bombardment Wing at Carswell

AFB, Texas: 39

95th Bomb Wing: 1

Air Combat Command: 121

Air Force Reserve Forces: 61

air-launched cruise missile (ALCM): 12

Akhromeyev, Soviet Marshal Sergei: 116

Allen, Thomas: 106

Anderson, Maj Rudolph: 126

Andrews AFB: 7

Andropov: 141

Armed Forces Special Weapons

Project: 10

Army Air Corps: 18

Army Reserve Officer Training Training

Corp (ROTC) program: 18

Arnold, Gen Henry H. “Hap”: 38

Atlas: 11

Atlas II, Minuteman: 11

Atmospheric Test Ban Treaty: 11

Atomic Energy Commission: 10, 73

Austin, Capt Harold (Hal): 121

B-1: 59

B-17: 33

B-17 bomb group: 18

B-24 Liberators: 33

B-29: 9, 18, 31, 32, 33

B-36: 6, 9, 11, 34, 35

B-47, B-58 Atlas: 11

B-50A Advanced Superfortress: 34

B-52 operations: 1, 8, 11, 12, 129

Bacon, Capt Cathy: 62

Barents Sea: 65

Belenko, Lt Victor: 143

Benjamin Franklin-class: 75

Berlin Blockade: 10

Biggs Air Force Base: 6, 76

Bikini Atoll: 10

Bissell, Richard: 65

Blue and Gold crews: 88

Bobo, Norway: 124

Bohn, John: 79

Bolling AFB: 7

Boyne, Walter: 103

Brooksher, Brigadier General Bill: 117

Burke, Adm Arleigh: 8

Burpee, Lt Gen Dick: 116

Butler, Gen George L.: 87

C-47: 9

C-54s: 9

Cape Kennedy: 88

Carter administration: 59

Castro, Fidel: 127

Catton, Gen Jack: 109

Characterizations of Soviet military

officers: 140

Charleston Bay: 15

Chromedome: 79, 118

Churchill, Winston: 9

Cisney, Lt Bill: 85

Collier’s: 18

combat crew proficiency: 97

Conscripts were brought from every

corner of Russia: 134

Crumm, Maj Gen William J.: 129

Cuban Crisis: 79, 115, 127

Daedalus Flyer: 123

Davis-Monthan AFB, Arizona: 108

Defense Atomic Support Agency: 10

Defense Nuclear Agency: 11

Defense Special Weapons Agency: 11

Department of Energy: 10

Distinguished Flying Crosses: 123

Dosaaf: 133

Dougherty, General: 3

Draper, Dr. Charles: 74

Dulles, Allen: 66

Dyess AFB: 123

Eastern Siberia1: 44

Edmundson, Lt Gen James V.: 31, 108

Edward Lozansky: 142

Eighth Air Force: 79, 113

Eisenhower, Dwight: 66

Ellis, Gen Richard: 12, 103

Ellsworth AFB: 84

England: 18

Fairford Air Base, United Kingdom: 121

familygrams: 91

first Atlas squadron: 68

fleet ballistic missile (FBM): 15

Flying Fortresses: 33

Fort Knox, Kentucky: 18

Francis E. Warren AFB: 68

177
Garner, Lt Comdr Pat M.: 129

Gary Powers: 64

Gates, Thomas: 66

Gavin, Gen James M.: 7

General Staff in Moscow: 142

Goforth, Capt Oscar L.: 125

Gorbachev: 141, 156

Groves, Maj Gen Leslie: 10

Hale, Sgt Jackie: 62

Hamilton, Capt Kelly S. C.: 62

Harris, Lt Gen Edgar S., Jr.: 105

Harvey, Lt Comdr John W.: 129

Hasbrouck, Col Larry: 110

Hawaiian Islands: 11, 39

Heavlin, Vance: 121

Heyser, Maj Richard S.: 126

Hiroshima: 7, 18

Holland, Capt David: 127

Holt, Carl: 121

Hotel-class boats: 14

Hound Dog: 12, 70

Hungary: 5, 76

Johnson, “Kelly”: 65

Johnson, Lt Gen Warren D.: 105

Joint Strategic Connectivity Staff: 13

Joint Strategic Target Planning Staff

(JSTPS): 100

Joint Task Force Eight (JTF-8): 11

Jones, Lt Col Merle J.: 95

Jupiter: 73

Kazakh soldiers: 138

KC-10 Extender: 62

KC-135: 61,: 98

KC-97 Stratotanker: 61

Kennedy, John: 124

Kenney, Gen George C.: 7, 94

Kessler, Capt Melvin: 127

Kiev Defense Ministry: 143

Kiev, Ukraine: 149

Kinsey, Capt (Dr.) Jack: 89

Kirtland AFB: 6

Komsomol, or Young Communist

League: 132

Korean Air 007: 65

Korean War: 105

Lafayette: 15, 74

Leavitt, Lt Gen Dick: 104

Lebsack, Col Al: 116

LeMay, Gen Curtis E.: 10, 17, 95, 102

LGM-25 Titan I and Titan II: 68

LGM-30A, B, & F Minuteman I, II, and

III: 69

Little Rock AFB, Arkansas: 130

Looking Glass: 80

Loring AFB: 95

Los Alamos, Livermore: 11

Lozansky, Edward: 143

Malmstrom AFB: 84

Manhattan Project: 10

Manzano Base, near Albuquerque: 112

Martin, Lt Linda: 62

Maxwell, Maj Joseph: 123

May Day celebration in Moscow: 124

McConnell AFB, Kansas: 129

McCoy AFB, Florida: 126

McKone, Capt John: 125

Mentyukov, Igor: 125

MiG-17s: 122

Military Academy of Armored Forces:

142

military commissariat: 135

military pedagogy: 132

Miller, Vice Admiral Jerry: 117

Minuteman: 11

Minuteman II force: 87

Minuteman Missile Education Program:

7 8

MIRV: 11

Mitchell, Gen William “Billy”: 32

MK-17 nuclear bomb: 112

Montgomery, Field Marshal Bernard L.:

9

Moorer, Adm Thomas: 3

Moser, Col John: 109, 114

Murmansk: 122

Nagasaki: 7, 10, 18

National Emergency Airborne Command

Posts (NEAC): 81

Nautilus: 72

NCOs in the Soviet military: 138

Nebraska, Blue Scout: 12

Nevada Test Site: 11

New York Times: 18

Norfolk, Virginia: 129

nuclear submarine: 2, 4

nuclear-powered strategic ballistic

missile submarine (SSBN): 13

Obenauf, 1Lt James E.: 123

Offutt AFB: 13

Ohio Class: 75

Ohio National Guard: 18

Ohio State University: 17

Olmstead, Capt Bruce: 125

Operation Crossroads: 10

Oswald, Lt Diane: 62

P-51s: 9, 32

178
P-80s: 32

P6M: 8

Pakistan, Peshawar: 124

Palm, Maj Willard G.: 125

Paris Conference: 124

Pearl Harbor: 34

Pershing: 8

Peter the Great: 131

Phillips, Capt Dean B.: 125

Polaris: 2, 14

Polaris A3: 74

Polmar, Norman: 106

Portsmouth, New Hampshire: 129

Poseidon: 2, 88

Poseidon C3: 74

Power, Gen Thomas S.: 79

Raborn, Rear Adm William: 74

Ramey AFB, Puerto Rico: 118

RB-17s, F-2s, F-82s: 32

RB-45C: 123

RB-47 “feint” sorties: 122

RB-66 reconnaissance aircraft: 127

RC-45s: 32

Reagan, President Ronald: 59, 104, 155

Red Star: 141

Redstone: 8

Regulas: 14

Regulas II: 14

Rhein-Main, Germany: 9

Rickover, Adm Hyman: 14, 17, 72, 73,

106

Royal Air Force crews: 123

Russell, Rear Adm James: 8

Russia’s first standing army: 131

Russian newspaper and magazine

articles: 131

SA-2 Fan Song antiaircraft missile: 124

SAC generals assigned to AEAO duty: 81

Sakharov, Andrei: 143

Sandia Base, New Mexico: 11

Schairer, George: 103

Schriever, Maj Gen Bernard: 68

Scorpion: 14

Sea of Japan: 65

Sergeyev, Gen of the Army Igor: 151

short-range attack missile (SRAM): 12

Shuler, Lt Gen E. G. “Buck” Jr.: 113

Sidi Slimane, Morocco: 115

Simon Bolivar: 88

Skipjack-class nuclear attack boat: 14

Skunk Works: 65

Skybolt: 70

Skylark: 129

SM-65 Atlas: 68

South Pacific: 11

Southern Russia: 144

Soviet perceptions: 4

Soviet strategic forces: 146

Soviet Union: 1

Spaatz, Gen Carl A.: 7

Space Command: 121

Squaw Valley, California: 101

SR-71 Blackbird: 67

SRAM: 71

SS-N-4 missiles: 14

SSN Scorpion: 129

Stalin: 8, 31, 143

Stead AFB: 101

Stone, Capt Rex: 110

Strategic Air Command: 1, 4, 17

Sukoi Su-9 (Fishpot B): 125

survival training: 101

Sverdlovsk: 142

Swancutt, Maj, Woodrow P. : 10

Symington, W. Stuart: 38

Taylor, Gen Maxwell: 8

The New Yorker: 18

Third Air Division: 129

Titan I: 11

Titan II: 11, 129

Tokyo Bay: 31

Tomahawk: 71

Tomahawk and the Harpoon SLCM: 74

Tomb, Rear Adm Paul: 106

Toupin, Navy Capt Ernie: 88, 107

Tovarishch: 132

TR-1: 67

Triad: 4

Trident C4 and D5 missiles: 74

Truman, President Harry S.: 10

Turmoil within Soviet enlisted ranks:

136

Twining, Gen Nathan: 143

U-2: 65

U-2 photographs: 124

UGM-27 Polaris A3: 75

UGM-73 Poseidon C3: 75

UGM-93 Trident I C4/Trident II D5: 75

United Nations Secretary-General: 127

United States Strategic Command

(USSTRATCOM): 121

US nuclear Triad: 15

USS George Washington: 14

USS Missouri: 31

USS Thresher: 128

USS Yellowstone: 89

179
Van Vliet, Col Charley: 79

Vandenberg AFB: 68, 95

Vinson, Rep. Carl: 38

Welch, Lt Harold: 127

Wilkinson, Capt Eugene P.: 73

World War II: 4

Worth, Cedric R.: 37

XX Bomber Command: 18

Yershov, Lt Col Ivan Dimitrivich: 142

Yershov, Tatyana: 143

Young Pioneers program: 132

Yugoslavia: 9

Zampolit: 144

Zhukov, Marshal: 143

Zulu-class diesel submarines: 14

Zumwalt, Lt Comdr Elmo: 106

180
INSIDE THE COLD WAR

A Cold Warrior’s Reflections

Air University Press Team

Chief Editor

Preston Bryant

Copy Editor

Lula Barnes

Book Design and Cover Art

Steven C. Garst

Composition and

Prepress Production

Vivian O’Neal