I believe it was 1990 when Grand Ridge, Illinois was destroyed in a nuclear attack, or at least that’s what the message said. It’s a strange feeling when you suddenly realize that your family and friends are either dead or dying, and there’s nothing you can do about it.

At the time I was an army captain, and a Nuclear Command and Control (C2) Engineer with the Defense Communications Agency. We tested communications systems and procedures that were used in the event of a nuclear war. It was an interesting job, even as the Cold War was winding down after the fall of the Berlin Wall. My boss, a civilian, said to me at the time “I don’t know what your feelings are about nuclear war, but personnally, I want to make sure the systems used during periods of heightened security (that’s what we called it) are working properly, so no mistakes are made.”

The military and National Command Authority (the President) have multiple systems and platforms that are used for C2 communications and they are tested frequently. During one such exercise, I was flying on the Presidents military plane, the National Emergency Airborne Command Post (NEACP – pronounced Knee-cap). We were in the air for ten or twelve hours at this point, and already had one midair refueling. The scenario was playing out and several exercise messages were sent and received.

We had a bit of down time, and I started flipping through old incoming message traffic, just to see what was happening. …STOP… There it was In black and white…. The message stated that the nuclear power plant near Grand Ridge, Illinois was destroyed during a Russian nuclear attack….. My parents lived about 8 miles as the crow flies from that nuclear reactor. Many other friends and family members lived anywhere from three to fifteen miles from the plant. Now, they were all either dead or dying. I froze for a few minutes, as I contemplated the potential reality. I suppose up until that moment I’d always thought of the possibility of me dying in a war, but in this alternate reality, I was the one surviving, or at least surviving for a while longer, while everyone else died.

I resumed the communication’s system testing. I may even have joked with someone else on the plane about the disappearance of my family. Eventually, the exercise ended, we landed, and I made my way home. I thought about that alternate life for awhile after that, and occasionally told the story. It always brought a few interesting comments or nervous chuckles.

The threat of nuclear war lessened in the ’90s and the early 21st century. It seems to be creeping back up now, and that’s probably what made me remember the story. These days, we are talking about Rocket Man, Putin’s new and improved nuclear weapons, and increasing our own capabilities. I guess the more things change, the more they stay the same. Doctor Strangelove seems as relevant as ever.