I hate to sound so put upon. I'm really not. But it does rather gall me that so many people do not feel that us Cold Warriors served in a combat environment at all. My thinking, of course, is that such an ignoramus has absolutely no conception of what it was like!
Never mind the fact that our missile batteries were invariably undermanned and so everyone had to pull some tough duty.
Never mind the fact that duty in our Cold War stations was generally considered so tough that, unless you actually killed someone, a court marshal was practically unheard of. No matter how badly a man messed-up, the offender was almost invariably given an Article 15, reduced in rank, and assigned extra duty. On the other hand, if you actually court-marshalled the guy and sent him to the stockade you lost that man and his ability to pull extra duty; and don't forget that your unit was almost certainly short-handed in the first place. So things like this sort of leave me chaffed when I hear the way some people talk. Well I was looking through some old files and came across the following account of an incident that happened over 40 years ago. Every effort has been made to remove every particle of technical information, so if that's what yer looking for - don't, you won't find any. But try and conceptualize your feelings when you are called to your duty station and informed: This is NOT a Drill!

I went into the Army to do my part for my country. I went into the Army's missile defense where we were to,"Guard our skies from enemy surprise!"; and we had powerful weapons with which to do it, too. So life became a dreary monotony of duty and time off. Day after day; 24 hours of duty followed by, what was supposed to be, a day off. Eventually I was transferred overseas. So I found myself in missile command, Far-East and the island of Okinawa became my home for almost 2 years.
Then one night we got a weather bulletin. "Typhoon heading directly for the island. Get everything moveable inside and batten down the hatches!" Things were going to get Rough!!! Naturally, all airworthy aircraft were flown out of there to safe haven. So we tied everything down and braced ourselves for a lashing that lasted nearly 3 days. Then it finally blew over and everything got real quiet.
But while everyone else was digging out, the U.S. ARMY was on the job bringing up radars and other equipment to defend the island. Since our nearest air support was now many hours away, missile command was the only defense against enemy air attack!
The night air virtually crackled from many powerful radar
beams that searched everywhere for trouble. Then it came! A large formation of unidentified aircraft was approaching from the north and they were not on any authorized approaches. These aircraft were not ours! I.F.F. and other interrogation systems proved that this large formation was not a friendly air force.
Then the order came down to ready weapons! Years of hard training was now past the razor's edge and beginning to dull again. We had been taught, trained, yea - lived for the day we would be needed. Fifteen minutes was all we ever had to get ready. From the time the alarm sounded, even if we were at death's door, we had just fifteen minutes to make all necessary checks and adjustments to our radars and get a round topside and ready to fire. Exactly fifteen minutes and not a second more!
Now time dragged on endlessly. This large, lumbering formation was a very long way off; so the leaden seconds became minutes and the minutes seemed like eternity. Every possible check and adjustment, every conceivable refinement was perfected and still time dragged on.
I knew that we had standing orders. I had seen them myself:
"Any unidentified aircraft found in U.S. air space and approaching military objectives will be presumed to be hostile. Any hostile aircraft found in U.S. airspace will be destroyed by the most expedious means available!"
In this case the most expedious means available would be a 20 kilo-ton nuclear warhead riding atop a Nike Hercules missile. The missile would be targeted on the leading plane so that the rest of the formation would fly into the blast and fireball that would probably vaporize that lead plane. Presto! End of formation, end of threat.
However, it goes without saying, that whoever they were, they probably would not take too kindly to our nukeing their squadron. They probably were prepared to retaliate in kind if we did. So if they decided to nuke us with, say missiles; we probably would lose that one. We could fight back for a while but eventually we would be overwhelmed which would, of course, mean the end of us and all other personnel and dependents on the island.
On the other hand, our country would definitely not take too kindly to our being nuked! So if we were to get wiped out we had every reasonable assurance that from somewhere in America, retaliatory forces would be launched against our attackers.
Well,if it ever reached that stage we could kiss it all good-bye. The Soviets would never stand still for an American nuclear strike against anyone. They would, no doubt, launch a counter counter strike against our counter strike. Then, provided that anyone in America was still alive, we would launch a counter counter counter strike. Only by that time there would be so little left that the effort would seem futile. Besides, this would most certainly mean the end of civilization if this scenario were carried out to it's ultimate conclusion. (This was roughly my thinking in 1967. I had no way of knowing about a great many things, including the devastating effects of a so-called "nuclear winter" which Carl Sagen was to bring up some twenty years later.)
Orders were now going out to the northern batteries to arm weapons! At long last the intruders were finally coming within missile range.
I could feel the beads of sweat on my brow. Suddenly a nauseating, sickening feeling churned my insides. For the first time I realized that there were MEN at the controls of those aircraft. I had spent so many years chasing electronic pips on radar scopes that I had completely forgotten that those pips represented men! For the first time I had to reckon with the notion of actually killing other people!! I was sick.
Orders were now coming down for back-up batteries to be ready to fire in the unlikely event that the initial shots failed. The entire island was now ablaze with radar and bristling with powerful weapons at the ready. Couldn't those fools see what they were flying into!!?? No. Onward they came!
Now, for the first time, stark terror smote me like an iron fist. Maybe it was only a thought, maybe I actually said it; but every fiber of my being screamed out,"Oh GOD, do SOMETHING!!!!".
Did you know that you can sweat on the back of your hands; on the back of your ears and neck? On the back of your scalp? In fact, if the stress is severe enough every part of your body produces sweat. It's as if your entire system is somehow converting everything into sweat. Also you stink!
Now every eye was glued to a radar scope. Every nerve was piano wire tight. Nervous fingers anxiously awaited the order to fire. When? When?? WHEN ?!?!?!?
Suddenly the exultant cry, "They're turning outbound !!". The cheer that followed was a reflex; both to break the un-godly tension and to get lungs breathing again. Comrades clapped each other on the back while some even hugged and danced with one another. Wise cracks abounded while cigarettes were fired up.
As for me, I think I was just too numb to move. All I could do was sit at my radar console and stink while a childish rhyme rattled around in my head:

"Bye, bye, baby bunting,
Daddy's gone a-hunting.
With a nuclear missile in his hand,
Daddy will defend this land."

The Cold War was a unique form of combat. It is most certainly true that no one would ever be awarded a medal for "gallantry under fire" or a Purple Heart, but we had no way of knowing that at the time. Indeed, we never knew when the alarm sounded if it was the real thing. I personally know men who were stopped by the police for speeds in excess of 100 mph because the alarm had sounded and they were recalled from liberty, only to have the police ESCORT them to their missile batteries. The danger was real, and America dared not show any kind of weakness while our enemies had us bore-sighted with termonuclear bombs. Therefore it is very true that "...they also serve who only watch and wait."

God bless America and the brave men & women who stood up to the thankless job of fighting the Cold War.

This message has been edited. Last edited by: AirDefndr1968,

It's stories like this that bring home the fact that the Cold war was a real war and the Warriors that faught in it need to be recognized for their Service to our nation with a Cold War Medal.

Well I watched Presidents Kennnedys " Cuban Missle" speech.
With my five older brothers at my moms house, I said ," Mike, Erney, you were in WWII. Dike, Stan were in Korea, Alex an me are all still young enough to go to this dance.

I went to the basement an started re-packing my
dufflebag.

Perhaps they have rested their case Mr Shuman???

To much contention among Vets? Whose is biggest?

We shall see.

I believe they deserve this...but others do not...perhaps a poll is necesary?

While I am too young to have partaken in anything more than the mandatory nuclear attack drills in elementary school, my older brother and my father both served on the "frontlines" of the Cold War. Both served in the Berlin Brigade, and my father served in Korea as well. Though perhaps not a war in the traditional sense of the term, one has only to look at pictures of alerts in Berlin or read accounts such as the "axe Massacre" in Panmunjom to know that the Cold War was anything but cold.