Nuclear countdown in English village
D. F. Tranter recently returned to Christchurch after working in England for 13 years. Here he describes life in a country town where the danger of a nuclear attack is taken seriously.
During' 13 years in the United Kingdom the event which struck me most forcibly was the realisation during the last few months of my stay of how close the reality of nuclear was is becoming in that country. From late 1977 to my departure in February, 1981, I lived near Louth, a small country market town at the foot of the Lincolnshire Wolds, about eight miles from the North Sea coast. A peaceful market town seems an unlikely setting in which to become concerner about nuclear warfare, bur Louth lies near a concentration of R.A.F. airfields and is nofar from V-bomber bases. Consequently, although Moscow may not be greatly concerned with ruining the Wednesday morning auction in the market place, nor even desirous of knocking down the spire of Louth’s lovely parish church, the men in the Kremlin are unlikely to take - great trouble to preserve a town located in the middle of a prime target. This sort of awareness is becoming part of everyday life in England — not part of many people’s daily conversation, but something which people are becoming more conscious of. What brought the danger home most forcibly to me was a page in the local newspaper' this year containing articles not just on the possibility of nuclear war, but, it seemed, on the probability of such an event.
Not only are politicians talking about these things; local councils are beginning to make preparations for a nuclear attack, albeit such preparations are of a “Dad’s Army” nature. The advice leaflets available on “what to do in the event of a nuclear attack” seem to assume that: (a) the enemy will be generous enough to give adequate advance notice of their intention to start throwing things; (b) that an ordinary family has considerable quantities of sandbags and other materials from which to construct a makeshift nuclear shelter. I have great admiration for the English, and particularly for their humour and forbearance at being able to carry on normal lives under such a menace. Obviously nowhere is safe from nuclear warfare; it is a lot easier to remain equable about it on this side of the globe. The Lincolnshire local authorities’ “Countdown to the Drop,” as featured in the newspaper previously mentioned, states: “The authorities expect about four weeks warning of an}' nuclear war breaking out. Below is an example of how the countdown to the day the bomb drops could go. .“Week One — Authorities receive first warnings of war possibility, man emergency war-rooms and set up communications systems. Call up all forces, reserves, and volunteers. Issue emergency defence pamphlets.
“Week Two — Run. down education services to free staff for other duties. Release all possible hospital cases. Dustmen continue work as normal. Free county planning and architects’ department staff for other work. “Week Three — Evacuate majority of hospital staff and supplies, including drugs and blankets, from main towns to country hospitals left free. Skeleton staff left behind with immovable patients. End public transport system running to existing timetable. Staff move permanently into war-room. “Week Four — Outbreak of war announced. Dustmen stop work. Flyingdales early warning station picks up warning of attack. Relays to United Kingdom Regional Air Operations Centre which, in turn, warns 250 major police stations. These activate 18,000 warning sirens throughout country.” That is a quotation from an ordinary local newspaper earlier this year. Imagine the average English person's comments on “the authorities expecting four weeks warning,” or of the local teachers (of whom I was one) reading that they would not cease teaching until week two when they would be “free for other duties.” Of course, the issuing of “emergency defence pamphlets” put all our minds at rest — if all else fails the civil service should be capable of submerging any invader under an avalanche of paper-work. It was also pleasing that dustmen would continue to work “as normal” until week four. Perhaps I am being .too scathing about what is, undoubtedly, a well-intentioned effort on someone’s part, but we are not talking about a war
in which bombs would cause severe damage and casualties in only a limited area. Entire populations and countries would be devastated so that the planning envisaged is surely so inadequate as to be almost pointless. In presenting this planning
as being adequate, the authorities seem to be trying to lull the public into accepting nuclear war as a feasible means of defending a population. Such planning as is being done smacks of bureaucracy at every turn. At the end of the
newspaper article readers were presented with a list, complete with photographs, ol all the county officials wha have been, and I quote. “Chosen to survive — their task — to build a new world.” Chosen by whom? Another section was headed “County's Growing Nuclear Industry." This gave accounts of some’ of the businesses which have sprung up to produce fallout shelters and other survival equipment. For instance, for £4.900 (approximately $12,000) readers could buy a basic four-person shelter, for .£6750 ($16,000) theycould treat themselves to the'luxury seven-person model. The man behind this particular enterprise was quoted as saying "we all talk about nuclear bombs, and we know they exist, so why don’t people react to reality?” It seems to me that the greatest danger of all is when governments and people, as in England now, begin to talk about the probability of nuclear war, and of making preparations for survival — a survival which seems to be becoming increasingly dependent on whether one is prepared to spend, money on shelters — always assuming, of course, that there will be something worth surviving for. Perhaps the best attitude is simply to ignore the whole ghastly business, but it is not going to go away. People such as ourselves, as far away as one can get from the immediate danger area, may have a > vital role to play in pointing out the sheer lunacy of the attitudes oP the ' nuclear 1 powers. From what I saw in England, those most closely involved seem to have lost sight of what they are doing. '
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Press, 3 June 1981, Page 20
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1,044Nuclear countdown in English village Press, 3 June 1981, Page 20
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