Going Underground.
'When I submitted my request to Fife Council to spend the day in its Emergency Centre I had fully expected that because of the current crisis in Eastern Europe I would be turned down and probably also slapped with a D Notice to boot. To my surprise instead I received a reply from the Deputy Emergency Planning Officer inviting me to come along to be given a tour of the main Emergency Centre, meet the staff and if I wished to spend the day there with the Day Shift.
I was asked to report to the reception at Fife House at 9AM sharp and ask for him by name (in the only security restriction I was asked not to use the real names of the staff).
'I arrived at the main reception and asked for the Deputy Emergency Planning Officer, showing the security guard on duty my driving license to prove my identity. A couple of minutes later 'Brian' (not his real name) arrived and introduced himself. I noticed that he was wearing a tie bearing the coat of arms of the National Emergency Volunteers and asked him about it.
"Oh, most of us who work in the EC are members of the NEV. They organised a lot of the courses we've gone on, and have provided us with a couple of civil protection advisers, one of whom is yours truly, and a number of other specialised bods" he told me.
'Brian led me to the lifts in the main building and we descended to the basement. He led me down a short flight of stairs and along a dimly lit corridor, at the end of which was a steel door. Above the door was a security camera, a small red LED indicated that it was active.
'Brian typed his access code into a key pad before swiping his ID card. There was a click and the door unlocked.
"After you." He said, opening the door. Behind it I saw a much heavier blast door, which Brian swung open to reveal a decontamination room, a few NBC suits and gas masks were hanging up alongside what I assumed were Geiger counters. At the far end of the room was a shower for washing off any fall-out, or chemical contamination. Brian also pointed out the blast door to my left that led to the Generator Room.
"We're connected to the National Grid at the moment, but if that was to fail the diesel generator in there would take over; we run it for an hour once a week just to make sure that its working. There's enough fuel to keep us going for a month, though we could stretch it out if we were careful."
'Brian opened the inner blast door and led me into the Control Room of the bunker. To my left was the kitchen and just behind that some toilets. Beyond the banks of computers I could see another door that Brian told me led to a large office that would be used by senior staff during a crisis.
'As Brian introduced me to the members of staff on duty that morning I took in the computer screens, telephones and maps of Fife on the wall, I especially paid attention to a board on which the results of enemy air attacks, conventional, or nuclear, could be recorded. In the background there was a constant 'bleep' coming from a box on the wall. Brian explained that this was something called a 'WB1400' Warning Point, it gave out a regular 'pip' sound in peacetime to confirm that it and the communications system was working (Brian called this the 'confidence tone'). If ever there was an attack it would change to a high pitched 'weeoo weeoo' sound along with a verbal 'ATTACK WARNING RED' message.
'Brian introduced me to 'Phil' who was the representative of the United Kingdom Warning and Monitoring Organisation, UKWMO. This organisation's job is to warn the populous of air, or missile attack, and track and warn of fall-out if the attack was nuclear. Most people will have come into contact with the UKWMO through the Royal Observer Corps, who man its monitoring posts (such as the one outside Cowdenbeath) and provide personnel to man its larger bunkers. If a nuclear attack ever came the infamous three (actually around four and a half) minute warning to the public would come via the UKWMO.
'Phil explained that the Warning Point was part of a national network maintained by the police, which would distribute attack warnings to a multitude of sites, including police stations, government and council bunkers, fire stations, hospitals and in rural areas pubs and even private houses (I did wonder what would happen if the householder was away on the day of an attack!). The network of powered sirens would also automatically be set off by a warning via this system, and hand sirens would be sounded at ROC posts and by those hardy souls with a Warning Point in their pub, or house.
'Phil went on the explain that in recent years the system had also been modified to warn of local air attacks, such as might come from bombers, or cruise missiles, rather than by an all-out countrywide nuclear attack. The UKWMO could sound the sirens only in the area under attack if it needed to. He next showed me a couple of maps, one showed the national organisation of the UKWMO; I noted that Fife was split between two Groups, 24, based outside Edinburgh and 28, based outside Dundee; the second showed the locations of all the ROC posts in Fife.
'Phil excused himself, saying that it was time for him to check communications with the two Group headquarters, "If they do go out we can speak to the Master Posts ourselves, though", he added before handing me back to Brian.
'Brian continued his tour, showing me the office that would be used by the Chief Executive and senior staff members. I remarked that it looked rather Spartan and that the furniture was rather Eighties in appearance.
"I'm afraid we have to rely on council surplus to furnish most of the centre, no luxury down here I'm afraid." Brian replied. "The only modern equipment that we have is the communications system, the computers, the monitoring gear and some other electrical gizmos that we get via the Scottish Executive and the Home Office.
"Still, we're all very aware that if there was to be a nuclear attack we'd be living in luxury compared to the survivors up top." He added gravely.
"Not unless they hit Glenrothes, Brian." A woman in her late thirties challenged light-heartedly. "In that case we'd be in the crater with everybody else."
'Brian introduced me to 'Stephanie', the senior member of the communications team on duty that morning. Despite the seriousness of her work in the bunker, she seemed to have a pretty 'happy go lucky' attitude to her possible fate.
"Oh don't get me wrong, when I first read all the material I was scared witless (I cleaned up what she actually said here), but after I while I decided that being scared wasn't going to stop it from happening. If it does happen then it's our job to try and put the pieces back together; we can't do that if we've stressed ourselves out with worry before hand.
"Besides, these days I think that any war would be conventional. Neither side is stupid enough to use their nuclear arsenals as they know what that would mean."
'While he was showing me the conference room I asked Brian what would happen if the Emergency Centre was knocked out by an attack. "The stand-by in Kirkcaldy would take over. It's a smaller, older bunker, full of dead flies and a bit damp. Not somewhere I'd want to spend too much time. There's also an old emergency centre under the council buildings in Cupar that was built by the old Fife County Council, but it's disused these days and used for storage."
'At the far end of the room were a few bookshelves. I noted what looked like a few official and semi-official publications - cheery titles like 'The Medical Effects of Nuclear War', 'The Nuclear Destruction of Britain', 'Life After Nuclear War', 'Defence of the Nation', 'London After the Bomb' and 'Doomsday - Britain After Nuclear Attack'. I was surprised to see the rather subversive 'War Plan UK' among this collection, I also noticed that the collection of novels and paperbacks also seemed to share the same theme; I spotted both of General Hackett's books on the Third World War and a collection of Armageddon fiction - 'Alas Babylon', 'Warday and the Journey Onwards', 'Down to a Sunless Sea', 'The Bedford Incident', 'Fail-Safe', Clancy's 'Red Storm Rising', amongst others.
'Below the books was a shelf containing a number of black folders marked 'War Plan - Top Secret'.
'Brian saw me looking at the collection of literature with interest. "Keeps us in the mood" he said with a chuckle. "I'm afraid I can't show you the War Plan, it's all a bit hush, hush."
'Brian showed me to the dormitory, the last part of the bunker I had not seen, explaining that as they were only at half strength there was only one more member of staff he could introduce me to.
"Both MILO and the various Emergency Services liaison officers are not here today. They would only take up their posts in a crisis."
'I replied that I thought that we were in a crisis. After all it looked like Russia was about to invade Poland. I also wondered who Milo was.
"Oh, it's just a minor crisis at the moment, but it's why we're here at all, you know, just in case. Last week this place was unmanned.
"MILO is the Military Liaison Officer, a TA captain." Brian explained.
'I asked 'just in case of what'?'
"A 'Bolt out of the Blue'; let's say the Soviet Premier goes off his rocker and decided to launch a massive attack without any preparation, or a crisis to give us a warning."
'I wondered what would happen if such an attack occurred. After all if half of the bunker's staff were absent, how would it function effectively? Brian explained that many members of the bunker's staff worked in Fife and Rothesay Houses. They all had pagers and would be summoned as soon as there was an indication that a missile or air attack was underway.
"So long as they can get here in less than four minutes we'll let them in. After that the bunker is sealed tight and can only be opened from within."
'I guessed that after the four minute limit the first Russian missiles would start hitting their targets and opening the blast doors during that period would risk damage from a near miss, or allow contamination to enter. I pitied whoever would have to make the decision to lock their friends and colleagues out and leave them to their fate.
'I asked what use the bunker would be in a conventional war. All its protection seemed a bit of overkill for that purpose.'
"You may have noticed that just a few hundred meters away from here there is the Ratheyon and Hughes factories, which are involved in defence work. They would in most likelihood be targets for the enemy, and there is the very real possibility that any Emergency Centre above ground could be damaged, or even destroyed by a bomb, or missile falling short. The protection against a nuclear weapon exploding a couple of miles away gives us excellent protection against a conventional weapon exploding far closer."
'I nodded in understanding. It did make sense to protect one's self against conventional attack.'
"Well here's the last man I've got to introduce you to. Wake up, Denis!" Brian said as he opened the dormitory door.
'The room was filled with three tier bunks; on a middle bunk at the far end of the room was a large shape under a blanket. The shape stirred slightly at Brian's call.
"Denis is our representative from the Direct Labour Organisation (what used to be called the Works Department). Come on, Denis, come and say hello to this nice journalist."
"Bog, off Brian." 'Denis' said grumpily. "I'm trying to get some kip; it's hard enough with that infernal thing going 'bleep, bleep, bleep' the entire damn…"
'Denis stopped in mid sentence, Brian and I noticed the same thing that he had. The Warning Point had suddenly stopped making its reassuring 'pip' sound. That meant one of two things, it had either stopped working, which was unlikely, or…'
'WEEOOO, WEEEOOO, WEEEOOO! ATTACK WARNING RED ATTACK WARNING RED!'
'The box continued to blare out this cacophony for a few seconds until Phil had the presence of mind to turn it down.'
"Attack Warning Red, is it for real?" Someone asked.
"Of course it's for bloody real!" Brian snapped. "Get to your stations, and set the timer on the door!"
'The bunker staff, who had been paralysed in shock for a moment, began to operate like a well oiled machine. Either typing on computer keyboards, or speaking into telephone handsets."
"…And I want every scrap of information as soon as you get it." I heard Phil say into the link to the two ROC Group headquarters.
'Behind me the inner blast door opened and a red faced and very harried looking council Chief Executive, Tom Buchan, stepped into the bunker. He was ever so slightly out of breath, having evidently run all the way from his office.'
"This had better be good because I was in a meeting with…"
"The bloody sirens have just gone off, it's the real thing." A woman who stepped through the door behind him said in shock.
"Jesus Christ." Mr Buchan exclaimed.
'A few more members of staff trickled in within the four minute limit. As it passed I heard a click as the door was locked automatically. Nobody else would be getting in unless the bunker staff wanted them to.'
'Tocsin Bang!' Phil called out thirty seconds later. I had no idea what this meant, though I guessed a moment later from what he said. "Dundee reports two burst over RAF Leuchars, one airburst and one ground burst."
'A loud, insistent buzzing sound briefly distracted me from the terrible news that thousands of people had probably just been killed by two nuclear bombs. It was the bunker's intercom.'
'Brian went to answer it.'
"For God's sake let us in!" A voice said urgently.
"I can't, you're too late; the door has locked itself. We can't risk opening it up now."
"Let us in before the bombs start falling!"
"They're already…"
"Leave it, Brian." Tom Buchan ordered. "There's nothing you can do."
'Meanwhile Phil's catalogue of death continued, behind him the bomb bursts were being recorded on a map of Fife.'
"Two bombs on Rosyth, both ground bursts. One airburst over the Mossmorran petrochemical plant, one ground burst Longannet power station."
'At this point the lights flickered for a moment as the power from the National Grid failed and the generator took over automatically. To the irritation of those using them every computer in the bunker rebooted as they briefly lost power.'
"Two one megaton bombs have just burst over Edinburgh." Phil reported gravely.
"Well there goes the Executive." Tom Buchan remarked.
"I've just lost Twenty Four Group, I'll see if Dundee knows anything."
'I decided to sit down and my journalistic instincts returned. I decided to start recording what was going on again, even if there might not be anybody to read what I was writing.'
"Dundee says that Twenty Four Group is gone. As far as they can make out from speaking to the Master Posts near Edinburgh the airport was hit by a ground burst, the group H.Q was evidently destroyed." He paused for a moment as he listened to another message coming in from the group H.Q outside Dundee. "Ground burst near Anstruther."
'I wondered why the Russians would drop a bomb near a small fishing village. Brian answered my unspoken question a moment later.'
'That's the Northern Zone H.Q, then. Still the Zone Commissioner probably did not make it out of Edinburgh."
'I learned later that there was a large bunker outside Anstruther meant to house the government minister who would run the northern half of Scotland after a nuclear attack. Well, if he had survived he would need to look for alternative accommodation now.
"Thank you, Dundee." Phil was saying into his phone handset. "Any more reports of burst in…bloody hell!" He exclaimed.
"What is it?" Brian asked.
"Sounds like Dundee is gone." Phil replied despondently.
'As the pattern of attacks continued it was very clear that the Russians were targeting the command and control bunkers, as well as military and infrastructure targets. The Fife Council bunker was rapidly becoming the highest source of authority; its staff was already having to take decisions that should really have been the responsibility of devolved and central government.
'While they were all managing to cope with there new responsibilities I could see that the stress was beginning to tell and it was hardly surprising that there was the odd harsh word between colleagues and arguments began to break out after an hour.
"You've got the authority, it's about time you bloody used it." One member of staff raged at her superior when she felt he was not doing all he could. Also on more than one occasion I was told to 'get out of the bloody way', or 'move out of the f____ing way'.
'After an hour or two it was pretty clear that things were not going well. The bunker staff were overworked (the bunker was only running at just over half-strength), and they were having trouble speaking to anybody outside other than a few ROC posts and the headquarters of Fife Constabulary, only about a mile or two away. The police had their own command centre under the H.Q building and reported that they were in touch with the Central Division H.Q in Kirkcaldy, but not the Eastern Division H.Q in Cupar (presumably the bombs that hit RAF Leuchars may have knocked it out), nor the Western District H.Q in Dunfermline.
'The nearest ROC post reported that the bombs that had hit Rosyth and Pitreavie had caused a fire storm that had engulfed much of Dunfermline. No wonder nobody at the police Western District H.Q was not answering, the building was probably already a pile of charred rubble.
'I wondered aloud about whether the communications difficulties were caused by the EMP generated by the bombs and was met by a snort of derision by all those in earshot. Evidently I was more ignorant about the effects of a nuclear explosion that I had thought.
"No, it's because they're not there, or the Soviets have destroyed communications towers. The EMP effects of Hollywood don't exist." Brian told me.
"I've got through to Cultybraggan!" Stephanie said excitedly a few minutes later. Cultybraggan was an army training area outside Stirling. There was a major government bunker within its environs, where either the Secretary of State for Scotland or the First Minister would go. That it was still there was surprising given the destruction of its counterpart at Anstruther. Perhaps the Soviets had spared it, or maybe a missile had malfunctioned or a bomber had been shot down.
"What can they tell us? Who is in charge?" Mr Buchan asked.
'Stephanie spoke to the operator at the other end of the line for a few minutes before answering.'
"It's as bad as we thought." She said a few minutes later. "The Education Minister is in charge at Cultybraggan; she was on a visit to Stirling at the time of the attack, but it doesn't look like any of the other Ministers have survived.
"Other than Edinburgh and Glasgow, no city in Scotland was directly attacked, but most military have been attacked. As the majority of them are close to towns and cities civilian casualties have been extensive, and probably far worse than if we had been given time to prepare.
"Cultybraggan has only been able to get through to two bunkers down south, Kelvedon Hatch in Essex and Chilmark in Wiltshire. The others are either gone, or communications are too badly damaged.
"They have reported that London, Birmingham, Manchester, Sheffield and Liverpool have all been attacked by multiple megaton devices. All major military bases in England, Wales and Northern Ireland have also been attacked.
"The Secretary of State for Health seems to be the highest ranking survivor of the Cabinet, everybody else seems to have either been in London, or near another target. It also seems as if the majority of the Royal Family was also in London, or visiting targets. The only senior survivor is Princess Anne, who was on a visit to Aberdeen; she's being taken to the nearest bunker."
'At this point things just got too much for me. I thought of all my family, friends and co-workers who lived in Dunfermline, or the other cities mentioned. Unless they were incredibly lucky they were all dead, either charred corpses, or radioactive air pollution in the upper atmosphere.
'I had to go for a sit down in the dormitory. I was feeling completely drained and depressed; I lay down and fell asleep.'
'I was woken an hour later by Brian. I looked at my watch, it was four o'clock already, most of the day had gone. I can't say I felt any better than I had before my nap; it was almost as if I was learning of the attack for the first time again.
"Come on." He said. "We need you back in the Control Room; you're recording events for whatever future generation exists after this is all over.
"I'm afraid some more bad news has come in. A mob has stormed and destroyed the stand-by Emergency Centre in Kirkcaldy; half a dozen of the staff was killed before the police were able to rescue the rest."
'I returned to the Control Room to find everybody looking very grim. To their minds the public they were trying to help had just turned on them; they were now at risk themselves and unlike the military bunkers they had no real way of defending themselves other than keeping the doors shut. It made me feel rather uncomfortable too, if any angry mob got in here I doubt they would spare a journalist.'
"Is there anything in here we could use to defend ourselves, if necessary?" Mr Buchan asked.
"Best we could do is to break off a few table legs, Sir." Brian suggested.
"Well, I guess that's better than nothing. At least the police H.Q is just up the road."
"If anybody goes out now, Sir, they'll get a pretty healthy dose of fall-out from the Mossmorran burst." Phil pointed out.
"I doubt that would stop them in the short term." Stephanie remarked.
'The sound of a phone ringing interrupted the discussion. I wondered who had possibly managed to get through; perhaps it was someone from upstairs begging for entry again.'
"It's for you, Sir." The operator said to Mr. Buchan. The Chief Executive crossed the room and answered it. We all listened to him speaking into the handset for a few moments. When he hung up he looked surprisingly happy; I wondered if the strain had gotten to him.
"Listen everybody; I have an announcement to make." He said to a rapt audience. "This has been our annual Emergency Readiness Exercise; that was the directing staff of the exercise calling to inform me that it is over.
"There has been no attack, everything is okay. The exercise staff will be joining us in a few minutes to let us know how we did."
'There was silence for a minute as the stunned bunker staff took in the news. They were as stunned by the news as they had been when the news of the 'attack' had come through. Then the cheering and clapping began.'
'The six people of the directing staff; the four in suits were from the Scottish Executive, while the other two wore the formal tunic of the National Emergency Volunteers, carrying their caps under their arms; were the first to enter the bunker since lockdown.'
'They all looked rather pleased.'
"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. I'm Stuart Wright from the Scottish Executive, I'm here to let you know that you have passed the ERE. We do have a few recommendations for improvements, but we're very happy with your performance.
"We'll be giving a copy of our report to the Chief Executive and Senior Emergency Planning Officer."
'By the time he had finished speaking someone had opened the bar in the conference room and was passing round drinks. While partaking of the celebrations I asked Brian if he had had any idea that it was an exercise rather than the real thing.'
"I must admit I had an inkling." He admitted. "We really should have felt the ground shock from the Mossmorran bomb, even if it was mild, so I guessed something wasn't right, but with all the other information coming in it seemed real."
Tom Buchan had overheard our conversation and approached, his face beaming.
"I knew beforehand." He said in the voice of someone imparting a great secret. "But not until twenty minutes before. These jokers," He said indicating the exercise direction staff. "Phoned me to let me know it was an ERE so that I would not set off all of our emergency plans, or have our local UKWMO lads set off Fife's sirens."
*
'An hour later I was back in the real world driving home in my car. It was strange to see the Mossmorran plant, flaring away as it burnt off waste products, a short time ago I had been told that a Russian nuclear bomb had destroyed it and Cowdenbeath, Lochgelly and Cardenden with it.
'I had not been expecting a particularly exciting day in the council bunker; instead I had experienced the apparent end of the world. Now I had returned to the world, a world still intact, yet living under the threat of destruction.
'Yet my experience had taught me one thing. If the worst happened and this country came under nuclear attack there would be a dedicated band of people, some in bunkers, some working for the emergency services, military and civil protection agencies who would be doing their best to save the survivors. These men and women were not Dr. Strangeloves; they were people like you and me.
"I am glad that there are such people looking after us all.'
Published as a feature article in The Dunfermline Press, March 2005.
***
