Eighth of an inch error
The margin for error in operating ICBMs can be excruciatingly small — an eighth of an inch, in one case.
That tiny gap led to a disturbing incident in October 2010 in which the Air Force lost communication for nearly an hour with an entire squadron of Minuteman 3 missiles. Their 50 missiles represented one-ninth of the entire Minuteman 3 missile fleet.
Investigators determined that a single replacement circuit card in a Minuteman 3 computer system’s slot connector was one-eighth of an inch from being fully seated. That effectively jammed communications between the missiles and the five launch control centers to which they are connected by buried cables.
“This scenario sounded very familiar,” the investigators wrote in a report from Nov. 15, 2010. The same problem occurred in 1998, they said, and some recommendations from that incident were never put in place.
One recommendation was remarkably low-tech: place a straightedge across the top of the circuit cards after replacing any of them, to verify they are properly seated.
“Use of this technique may have prevented the situation completely,” it said, referring to the 2010 event at F.E. Warren Air Force Base in Wyoming.
Associated Press
The hundreds of nuclear missiles that have stood war-ready for decades in underground silos along remote stretches of America, silent and unseen, packed with almost unimaginable destructive power, are a force in distress, if not in decline.
They are still a fearsome superpower symbol, primed to unleash nuclear hell on a moment’s notice at any hour of any day, capable of obliterating people and places halfway around the globe if a president so orders.
But the number of intercontinental ballistic missiles, or ICBMs, is dwindling, their future defense role is in doubt, and missteps and leadership lapses documented by The Associated Press this year have raised questions about how the force is managed.
The AP revealed one missile officer’s lament of “rot” inside the force, and an independent assessment for the Air Force found signs of “burnout” among missile launch crews.
The AP also disclosed that four ICBM launch officers were disciplined this year for violating security rules by opening the blast door to their underground command post while one crew member was asleep.
After one of the Air Force’s three ICBM groups failed a safety and security inspection in August, GOP Rep. Howard “Buck” McKeon of California, chairman of the House Armed Services Committee, said it was time for the Air Force to refocus on its ICBM responsibilities and to “recommit itself from the top down” to safe nuclear operations. Air Force leaders say the nuclear mission already is a priority and that the missiles are safe and secure.
Gen. Mark Welsh, the Air Force’s top officer, told the AP in November that since 2008, “the No. 1 focus area, the No. 1 priority for the U.S. Air Force has been to restore and strengthen the nuclear enterprise.”
Once called America’s “ace in the hole,” the ICBM is the card never played. None has ever been fired in anger.
Some say that proves its enduring value as a deterrent to war. To others it suggests the weapon is a relic.
Its potential for mass destruction nonetheless demands that it be handled and maintained with enormous care and strict discipline for as long as U.S. leaders keep it on launch-ready status.
Today it is the topic of a debate engaged by relatively few Americans: What role should ICBMs play in U.S. defense, and at what financial cost, given a security scene dominated by terrorism, cyberthreats and the spread of nuclear technologies to Iran and North Korea?
The Congressional Budget Office on Friday estimated that strategic nuclear forces would cost the Pentagon $132 billion over the next 10 years, based on current plans. That would include $20 billion for the ICBM force alone. It does not include an estimated $56 billion for the 10-year cost of communications and other systems needed to command and control the whole nuclear force.
One prominent American who has questioned the future of ICBMs is Chuck Hagel, the current secretary of defense. As a private citizen in 2012 he endorsed a report that outlined a phased elimination of nuclear weapons, to include scrapping U.S. ICBMs within 10 years. The report by a group called Global Zero said the ICBM “has lost its central utility” in nuclear deterrence.
Since becoming Pentagon chief in February, Hagel has not commented on the future of ICBMs. In remarks last month welcoming a new commander of U.S. Strategic Command, he highlighted the enduring value of nuclear weapons but also cited “troubling lapses” in professionalism within the nuclear force. He was not specific, but aides said he was alluding to a range of recent breakdowns in discipline and training.
One of the most glaring examples of ill-discipline is the case of Maj. Gen. Michael Carey, who was fired in October from his job as commander of the ICBM force. An Air Force investigation of Carey that was released Thursday said that while leading a U.S. delegation on a three-day trip to Russia last summer, he drank heavily, partied with “suspect” local women, insulted his Russian hosts, complained about his bosses and lamented in public settings the low state of morale in the ICBM force.
At the core of the ICBM problem is the reality that the U.S. sees less use for nuclear weapons and aims to one day eliminate them, possibly starting with the missiles. The trend is clear, advanced by President Barack Obama’s declared vision of a nuclear weapons-free world.
Last summer Obama directed the military to come up with new non-nuclear strike options, not as a substitute for the weapons but as a key to reducing their role.
Thus the nuclear mission, not just the number of weapons, is narrowing. So apparently is the attraction of being a nuclear warrior.
Pairs of young officers are assigned to ICBM launch centers for 24-hour shifts. They keep a computer-linked eye on the 10 missiles for which they are responsible, waiting for a potential launch order and fighting little but boredom. Some are on their first Air Force assignment. Most were “volunteered” for the duty. Many find it unsatisfying.
John Hamre, a former deputy secretary of defense and now president and chief executive of the Center for Strategic and International Studies, a centrist think tank, says young Air Force officers sense the mission is in decline.
“We are seeing a difficult time sustaining cutting-edge morale at a time when the overall signals coming from the top are that the nuclear deterrence force is no longer a priority,” Hamre said. “How do we recruit front-line talent into a field when senior civilian and military leadership never talks about the mission? Young professionals look up for signals. They are seeing the right words, but there isn’t energy behind them.”
Eugene Habiger, a retired Air Force four-star general who headed Strategic Command from 1996 to 1998, puts it this way:
“It’s a real problem to keep those young men and women interested in going on alert three or four times a month for 24 hours at a time when it’s hard to explain to them who the enemy is. It doesn’t have the allure that it did during the height of the Cold War when you felt like you were doing something.”
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