Six weeks – Vandenberg Air Force Base, Lompoc, California

January 1970 – March 1970

My next stop for my training to become a missile launch officer was in Lompoc California. Since it was only there for a short period, I went alone. I stayed in a one bedroom, lower-level studio that was rented to officers like me on training assignments. It was a beautiful small town on the Pacific Ocean just north of Santa Barbara.

The purpose of this school was to teach us the complex procedures on how to actually launch our nuclear missile. We never were told the targets or any details about the nuclear war head because we had “no need to know.” What we did learn were the various levels of combat readiness and the decoding procedures necessary to actually execute the launch.

I took to this school like a fish to water. It was like a complicated puzzle that needed to be solved in a very big hurry. We had a computerized launch control simulator here (and also later at McConnell AFB) that let us do simulated launches where various problems during the launch process could be introduced for us to troubleshoot. These simulators were also used to evaluate a missile crew’s readiness on a regular basis.

The process had to be fool proof and it had to be impossible for any single person to decide to launch a missile. That was why two officers were required on site at all times to turn the launch keys. It was a very sophisticated process. I must have made a good impression because they forwarded a recommendation to my missile wing at McConnell AFB that I be placed onto an instructor crew as soon as possible after I arrived.

My last memory was the day I left Lompoc after completion of the school. A male black cat had adopted me soon after I had moved in. I had never been much of a cat person, but he proved to be decent company. The day I left, I decided to bring him back to Wichita with me. Big mistake. He had obviously never been in a car before (or hated the idea of leaving California). He screeched like crazy, then sprayed the most awful smell on my back seat. A soon as I opened my door, he jumped out of my car, never to be seen again. I do not think I ever totally got rid of the foul odor in that car.

I had a bad tire driving through Las Vegas on my way to Wichita, Kansas. Playing blackjack in a small casino, I won enough to buy a new tire. My dad was amused when he heard this story because he assumed it was because I was some kind of card genius, not because of luck. It was just good luck. Little did I know at the time that I would be returning much later to live the majority of my life, marry and raise a family there.

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