Notes from Underground: A Cold War Missileer Goes Home

By Paul Kijinski

The author, a missile launch control officer in the waning years of the Cold War, returns to his old Air Force unit in North Dakota. His goal is to learn firsthand how today's missileers are faring in the gray environment of the post-Cold War era. Have they managed to maintain a sense of mission, and if so, upon what is it founded? Do they harbor any bitterness toward military or political leaders, feeling like forgotten pawns on an anachronistic chess board?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Paul Kijinski
• Release date: Jul 27, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301553068

Paul Kijinski

Paul Kijinski is the author of the novel CAMP LIMESTONE, a winner of the 2007 Paterson Prize for Books for Young Readers, and other works of middle grade fiction. THE 11:15 BENCH is his first novel for adult readers. Kijinski was born in Garfield Heights, Ohio, and earned degrees from Oberlin College, The Ohio State University, and John Carroll University. He began writing seriously while serving as a missile officer in the U.S. Air Force. The solitude of underground launch control centers provided a uniquely rich environment for putting pen to paper. His final assignment in the military was teaching English at the Air Force Academy. Kijinski is currently an elementary school teacher in South Euclid, Ohio. He and his wife, Eileen, have two adult sons. Follow him on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Paul-Kijinski/543152702417355

Book preview

Introduction

I originally wrote this article in 1995 while on assignment for Harper’s Magazine. Paul Tough, a contributing editor at Harper’s at the time, took a chance on an unknown writer and sent me to my old Air Force unit to investigate how missile launch control officers were dealing with their nuclear responsibilities in the post-Cold War era. However, Lewis Lapham, the legendary editor at Harper’s, wasn’t convinced that the young officers depicted in my piece were psychologically interesting enough, and so he killed it. I received a check for $750 that literally had Kill written on the memo line!

After recently dusting off this article and rereading it, I’ve decided that those officers—who, in 2013, would be in their mid-forties and likely not on active duty anymore—still deserve an audience for their service. I see Capt Fewster and Lt Barker as wonderful ambassadors for the generations of missileers who have quietly protected—and continue to protect—our nation while performing alert duty in subterranean launch control centers.

To Mr. Lapham I now reply, I respectfully disagree with your assessment. To you, reader, I say, Please judge for yourself.

Notes from Underground

The whole squadron is going to hell in a handbasket! my crew partner yelled while throwing open the heavy vinyl curtain to the sleeping compartment where I had been enwombed for all of two hours. As I bolted to a sitting position, I glanced down at my digital watch, which I wore continuously while on alert duty—5:00 a.m. From the other side of the launch control center, I could hear the steady beep of the Status Change alarm and the incessant droning of the system printer, which was chunking out a series of numerical printouts that would indicate the welfare of the launch facilities where our missiles were housed. Shit, I muttered and rose to my feet, wearing sweat pants and a T-shirt. Sorry, my crew partner said pitifully while