Fifty years ago I was the greenest of green Air Force Second Lieutenants. I had been in the service for only a few months. At my Air Force Base, one of the duties of Second Looies was to serve as Officer of the Day. We drew this assignment in rotation. I got it maybe once a month. This was largely a do-nothing function. The OD made sure that the drunks from the Officers’ and NCOs’ clubs got home safely. We checked to make sure that no bachelor officers brought women (Heaven forbid!) into their rooms at the Bachelor Officers Quarters. The main hardship was sleeping on a field cot in command headquarters. The OD was the only officer who remained on duty, on-base during the night. Shortly after I went on duty, President Kennedy was assassinated. The base immediately went on Red Alert. Fighter and bomber pilots stood ready to scramble their fully armed planes. Waiting for the word to go. I assumed that somebody more senior to me would take over that night. Didn’t happen. The base commander gave me a locked briefcase which contained the codes required to launch air strikes against Russia and Cuba. He told me to listen for the red phone to ring. When it did, I was to do as I was told. Then he and everybody else went home as usual. I slept with the briefcase under my cot. About two feet away from that bright red phone. The red phone never rang. Somehow, somewhere cooler heads prevailed, saving a 22 year old kid from having to push the button ending the world.
Posted on: Fri, 22 Nov 2013 12:26:22 +0000
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