I WAS THERE - part 6

 That was our recommendation and insistence. Management was
horrified. We were talking about a great number of lost man-hours.
I was called into meeting by the Chief of Operations. 

 Every operations and engineering supervisor was present. Safety
said shut it down. They said no. I got hot. At twenty three I had
no concept of compromise what-so-ever. They offered to build a
containment cover that would go over the valve and prevent flying
metal or hydraulic spray. I said fine, when they were in place
then the silo could go back in operation. 

 McPheeters, the Chief of Operations said that contractual
obligations would not permit us to just stop work. I said, fine,
just don't use the hydraulic system. Of course that effectively
shut down the silo so engineering and site-ops got hot. It was
getting out of control. My boss took me outside. He told me I had
said everything I was going to say in this meeting. I was sent off
to my office like a misbehaving child would be sent to his room. 

 I stewed. I called Jack Garrison the Chief Safety Engineer at home
office and ranted. He said I had done everything I could do. The
final decision to operate the site rested with operations. I said
I could red tag the valves. That was the one threat safety always
held over management. Technically we were an advisory group. We
were staff. We were not in the direct chain of authority. The last
trick, of a frustrated safety man, was to use the threat of a red
tag. In theory no one could remove a red tag or operate red tagged
equipment. On the other hand Safety was advisory not part of
operations. So it had always remained just a threat. 

 I was ready to play our last card. Garrison and my Chief of
Industrial Relations were ready to fire me. I was told, no I was
warned, not to do it. I calmed down, they calmed down but I felt I
had backed off and let my Safety Techs. down. Later I learned
everyone was hoping I would calm down and back off a bit. They
were afraid for me that I was going too far. But I was only twenty
four. I had very little idea of what too far might be.

 We continued going around to every site and training those
emergency rescue crews on how to get men out of the silo. Late one
afternoon, about two weeks after the bruha, I was sitting with
Bill Whitmer, the Security Officer. We were having coffee. A call
came in from the site security office. There was a major fire at
site six Russell. Men were trapped in the silo. We jumped into
Bills security vehicle and put it to the floor getting out there
in a hurry. By the time we arrived it was almost over. The
ambulance was picking up men who had been overcome by smoke
inhalation. The silo was a burned out hulk. Just about everything
in that hole was wreckage. 

 What happened was this. That hydraulic valve, still unshielded and
uncovered blew. The metal fragments flew out like a hand grenade
grazing one man. A fragment hit the explosion proof light above 
the valve exposing the electrical filaments. The force of the
pressure of hydraulic fluid against the broken remnants of valve
caused some of the fluid to become a mist. The mist reached the
broken lamp and ignited. 

 The flash fire of the mist quickly raised the temperature of the
spewing hydraulic liquid to its ignition point and the now flaming
liquid cascaded down into the bowls of the silo, igniting
everything in its path. There were about forty men working in the
lower levels. The stand talker switched on the evacuation horn.
This alerted the emergency rescue team who ran into the LCC tunnel
and started putting on Scott Air Packs. They gathered other
supplies, lights, rope, extinguishers and moved to the mouth of
the silo. 

 The men in the lower levels were surrounded by fire and smoke.
They grabbed Lif-O-Gen bottles hanging from the guard railings.
Lif-O-Gens were seven minute compressed oxygen bottles designed
for ambulance and sick bed use. All you had to do was stick the
little spout in your mouth and press the stem.  They also had a
little plastic mask and hose if you had the time. They were not
made for rescue use but there was nothing else I could find in
1961 to offer a little protection for the large numbers of men we
had in silos. So I ordered these in the hundreds as a better than
nothing option.

 The men tried to come up. They found the elevator would not
function. They had seven minutes oxygen supply to climb the spiral
ladder up to the LCC tunnel. They made it to the tunnel level only
to find access to the tunnel blocked by fire. Just as things were
looking hopeless ropes started dropping down from the top of the
silo. The emergency rescue crew, moving fast to the overhead
missile doors started pulling people up by the ropes. 

 Two of the younger stronger guys went down into the silo and
hooked up the men overcome by smoke. The smoke was beginning to
pour from the silo top. The rescue team used their Scott Air Packs
to stay at the top and pull men out. They finally fell back from
the silo rim, job complete just as the combustibles in the silo
caused flames to extend out above the silo doors.

 The final count was no deaths, twenty seven men hospitalized with
smoke inhalation. They were all released within a few days. The
Russell-site was over 50% destroyed. Operations was in a state of
shock. My guys were in a state of elation. Phone calls of
congratulation were coming in from all our sister sites, and home
office. The sites that had dragged their feet on  providing men
for the rescue crews were now demanding more rescue equipment,
more Evac-bottles, and more training. 

 We scheduled a brief ceremony to honor the rescue crew with many
pictures for the company and town newspaper. Needless to say all
sites were temporarily shut down until the replacement valves 
arrived. Pat Robinson was the man of the hour in our office. In
spite of my protestations that this was Pat's accomplishment, I
got a great deal of credit from my bosses. I did not protest too
much. It was very heady stuff. We had their attention for the rest
of the Altus project.

 If this was a story about personal friendships, I would devote a
chapter to my relationship with the Security Officer, Bill
Whitmer. Bill arrived at Altus a couple of months after I did.
That was because the previous Security Officer had been relieved
of duty and shipped out. He became overly involved with the USAF
social life at the Officers club and permitted Security to take
second place.  They brought Bill in as his replacement. Bill was
about twenty six when he arrived in Altus. He was married and gave
all appearances of being very settled and mature. He had a big
job.  He was responsible for all security matters at the sites. He
would hire and supervise a guard force of over one hundred and
fifty personnel.  

 While Bill was far more mature than I we shared a common bond. 
For our age and previous experience we were both in way over our
head. We also shared the fact that we making a dam good job of it.
Often the look on Bill's face when I came up with one of my grand
ideas reminded me that other than my responsibilities in Safety, I
was, in fact a typical twenty three year old kid. But at twenty
six Bill still had enough kid left in him to also appreciate this
was one fine adventure. We became the best of friends and Bill's
advice often kept me out of trouble. 

 The biggest thing missing from working on Atlas was that none of
us would ever see it launched. It was a very good thing that we
wouldn't as it was, after all, installed as an ICBM pointed at The
Soviet Union. But, still it would have been very exciting to see
one of those rockets blast off into space. Major Downs came into
my office one morning and asked me if I could take the time to
join him on a little trip.