gmb45
2nd July, 2009, 06:00 AM
Newly released files reveal how Britain would have faced Armageddon
At the height of the Cold War, every Prime Minister knew that if it tipped into World War III, he would probably find himself in a secret bunker deep beneath the rolling Cotswolds countryside.
With only a tiny group of ministers and advisers, he would have to decide whether to retaliate with every nuclear weapon at Britain's disposal. He would essentially be contemplating the end of the world as we know it.
It was the most ghastly contingency a prime minister would have to consider. If that point was reached, above ground, as the sirens sounded, the nation would be awaiting armageddon.
Doomsday
Doomsday: Newly released files reveal details of what would happen during a nuclear apocalypse
Hospitals would have been prepared for a deluge of casualties, troops mobilised, makeshift fall-out shelters would have been built.
Even so, the devastation would be catastrophic. How would Britain ever recover? Every two years during the Cold War, civil servants in key ministries rehearsed this end-of-the-world scenario.
Their job was to test the Government War Book, which outlined in terrifying detail what would happen during the countdown to a nuclear apocalypse - and beyond.
Fragments of the so-called War Book have appeared before. But the declassification of the whole 1970 edition, three large files of secret documents, allows us to see how the whole interlocking plan would have been implemented for the very first time.
If nuclear war became inevitable, the PM, Foreign Secretary, a small group of ministers and other vital personnel would be evacuated to a central bunker deep beneath the Cotswolds near Corsham, Wiltshire.
They would have been rushed there by helicopter at the last minute from Horse Guards Parade, having left Downing Street through the back door.
Other ministers would head to one of 12 more bunkers around the country, which would act as regional hubs of power after the attack.
As the clock ticked down to R-hour - the final release of nuclear weapons - medical units would be prepared for a catastrophe, and the police, fire service and civil defence forces would activate their emergency plans.
Emergency food distribution networks would be implemented and restrictions would even be placed on broadcasting weather forecasts so the enemy couldn't use them to their benefit.
The BBC - a crucial tool for communicating with a country in chaos - had a bunker in Wood Norton, Worcestershire, as well as a studio inside the central government bunker under the Cotswolds.
To save vital time, known BBC announcers made pre-recorded announcements to be broadcast in the hours before the bombs dropped. Last-minute instructions - and survival tips - would be broadcast to those remaining above ground until the very end.
But the strategy outlined in the War Book didn't end with the strike itself. After the bombs had dropped and the fall-out had cleared, power would be in the hands of the 12 regional governors, who would emerge into the irradiated ruins of a largely wrecked country.
The rehearsals, executed twice yearly according to strategies in the War Book, were giant war games that could last for up to four weeks.
Civil servants played members of the Cabinet as real ministers were discouraged from taking part.
'They would be disinclined to play by the rules,' said David Young, formerly one of the most senior civil servants in the Ministry of Defence, who once played the Defence Secretary. Some of them liked talking too much, so you'd get behind schedule.'
It was vital that everyone knew the timetable and stuck to the strategy, whatever their personal opinions.
'What you really don't want to happen in a major crisis is for the ministers and the key officials to be wasting time arguing. They should be spending their time defusing the crisis,' said Sir David Omand, a senior civil servant and former chairman of Whitehall's Security and Intelligence Committee, who took part in many rehearsals.
Indeed, records of these 'transition to war' exercises, paint a vivid picture of how World War III might have unfolded.
Official advice on building a bomb shelter
The 1968 exercise, codenamed 'Invaluable', for example, began on September 27 and gives the clearest indication of how the strategies laid out in the War Book would have been implemented in the run-up to a real global conflict.
This exercise began with a fictional scenario in which a cabal of 'hawks' won control in the Soviet Union - always known as ORANGE in the secret documents.
At 11.30am on the day of the crisis, the Cabinet met in Conference Room B in Whitehall, and decided to secretly prepare the government bunkers.
They also agreed to prepare a draconian Emergency Powers (defence) Act, which could be rushed through Parliament and provide them with extraordinary powers in the event of war.
Within days, the international situation deteriorated further. The Soviet Union's new hawkish leaders started making increasingly belligerent threats.
Turkey, a Nato ally, was alarmed by growing arms shipments between the Soviet Union and Syria. Soviet forces were deployed along the Soviet-Norwegian border. And a large concentration of Soviet Bloc naval power built up in the Baltic.
War drew ever closer - and as the pace of events sped up, there seemed little hope of a peaceful resolution.
Soviet aircraft were soon moved into Eastern European airfields and Soviet fighters, which had started harassing civil aircraft in the Berlin air corridor, forced a Pan Am civil airliner to crash.
As East Germany accused West Germany of plans to invade, Czech and Hungarian forces massed on the border with Austria. And then, the following day, the most dramatic twist yet: the USSR landed a man on the moon.
This was a populist publicity coup that intelligence experts feared would bolster Soviet resolve and encourage them to attack Nato.
Meanwhile, there were the first signs of unrest in the UK as dock and railway workers went on strike, apparently agitated by Soviet agents.
Letters also began to appear in newspapers asking when householders would be advised on how to protect their homes. Widespread panic was never far away.
In this darkening climate, the Cabinet met again, at 3.30pm on October 17 1968.
Among other things, they decided to implement covert measure 2.11, which readied Britain's phone network for the crisis and saw the erection of additional fall-out protection, constructed out of concrete blocks, around significant buildings.
Steps were also taken to put police, fire and civil defence services on a war footing so they were ready to deal with a nuclear attack. The Chiefs of Staff were also told to prepare for the evacuation of any military casualties from Germany.
As the exercise rolled on, the Cabinet also announced the general mobilisation of all the Armed Forces, including reserves, and ensured that British troops in Germany were prepared for a massive conventional attack.
It was now only matter of time before the order would be given to evacuate personnel to the bunkers.
In a real crisis, this order could have come without warning. And that moment would have been genuinely dreadful for the government staff involved.
These civil servants would have gone in advance of the ministers and would have been given just a few hours to return home and say goodbye to their families before reporting at Addison Road station, near London's Olympia.
From there, special trains would have taken them to Warminster military base.
To prevent widespread alarm, they would then have been driven secretly down side roads and under cover of darkness to their respective bunkers.
It would have been a harrowing journey, and as they descended into their subterranean refuge, all would have feared that they would never again see the world as they knew it.
Indeed, so awful was the prospect of having to abandon your family and retreat to a claustrophobic bunker, that senior officials feared many of their staff would fail to report for duty.
As a result, the plans were kept secret from many of those who would have to go underground. These civil servants often went through their entire careers without ever realising they were earmarked for one of the bunkers.
Back to the 1968 rehearsal and the hawkish Soviet leaders invaded Austria. Their Warsaw Pact allies attacked Greece and Turkey. War moved a step closer.
As the invasions were reported, panic began to take hold on the streets of Britain. There was massive demand for foodstuffs - particularly canned goods - and shortages-were reported in some areas.
It was still too early to accurately gauge the nation's mood, but crowds began to gather in Downing Street and Whitehall. Many were calling for Britain to declare its neutrality and step outside the conflict.
There were reports of people starting to fortify their homes. Few turned up for work and hardware shops and builders' yards were overwhelmed as people bought wood, concrete and sand with which to construct makeshift bunkers.
The crisis really had come home.
And so, the Cabinet took some of the last steps recommended by the War Book. They discharged all but the most acutely ill from hospital, moved major art treasures from London and Edinburgh to safe underground storage facilities - and applied the toughest of new laws, allowing for the possibility of summary executions for looting.
Then came the point of no return. Soviet Bloc forces invaded West Germany. Tanks and troops poured over the border; the Soviet leadership was appealing to Western workers to overthrow governments and warned that any use of nuclear weapons by Nato would cause violent reprisals.
Both chemical and biological weapons were used by the Soviets. Within days, the Red Army could have swept through France and reached the Channel.
From deep inside his bunker, the Prime Minister took the terrible decision - and authorised a tactical strike, using nuclear weapons to attack a number of carefully selected military targets.
The Soviets also unleashed a major strike and the Prime Minister felt he was left with no choice but to announce R hour ... the release of all remaining nuclear weapons. Armageddon was now a certainty.
For those taking part in the 1968 exercise, this was a chilling moment. David Young, who played the defence secretary, can still recall the feeling. 'It made my hairs stand up,' he said.
These exercises were phased out in the early 1990s and the War Book soon became an irrelevance, to be hidden away in a dusty filing cabinet. As an historic document, however, it is as haunting as ever, a terrifying reminder of just how close we came to Armageddon.
At the height of the Cold War, every Prime Minister knew that if it tipped into World War III, he would probably find himself in a secret bunker deep beneath the rolling Cotswolds countryside.
With only a tiny group of ministers and advisers, he would have to decide whether to retaliate with every nuclear weapon at Britain's disposal. He would essentially be contemplating the end of the world as we know it.
It was the most ghastly contingency a prime minister would have to consider. If that point was reached, above ground, as the sirens sounded, the nation would be awaiting armageddon.
Doomsday
Doomsday: Newly released files reveal details of what would happen during a nuclear apocalypse
Hospitals would have been prepared for a deluge of casualties, troops mobilised, makeshift fall-out shelters would have been built.
Even so, the devastation would be catastrophic. How would Britain ever recover? Every two years during the Cold War, civil servants in key ministries rehearsed this end-of-the-world scenario.
Their job was to test the Government War Book, which outlined in terrifying detail what would happen during the countdown to a nuclear apocalypse - and beyond.
Fragments of the so-called War Book have appeared before. But the declassification of the whole 1970 edition, three large files of secret documents, allows us to see how the whole interlocking plan would have been implemented for the very first time.
If nuclear war became inevitable, the PM, Foreign Secretary, a small group of ministers and other vital personnel would be evacuated to a central bunker deep beneath the Cotswolds near Corsham, Wiltshire.
They would have been rushed there by helicopter at the last minute from Horse Guards Parade, having left Downing Street through the back door.
Other ministers would head to one of 12 more bunkers around the country, which would act as regional hubs of power after the attack.
As the clock ticked down to R-hour - the final release of nuclear weapons - medical units would be prepared for a catastrophe, and the police, fire service and civil defence forces would activate their emergency plans.
Emergency food distribution networks would be implemented and restrictions would even be placed on broadcasting weather forecasts so the enemy couldn't use them to their benefit.
The BBC - a crucial tool for communicating with a country in chaos - had a bunker in Wood Norton, Worcestershire, as well as a studio inside the central government bunker under the Cotswolds.
To save vital time, known BBC announcers made pre-recorded announcements to be broadcast in the hours before the bombs dropped. Last-minute instructions - and survival tips - would be broadcast to those remaining above ground until the very end.
But the strategy outlined in the War Book didn't end with the strike itself. After the bombs had dropped and the fall-out had cleared, power would be in the hands of the 12 regional governors, who would emerge into the irradiated ruins of a largely wrecked country.
The rehearsals, executed twice yearly according to strategies in the War Book, were giant war games that could last for up to four weeks.
Civil servants played members of the Cabinet as real ministers were discouraged from taking part.
'They would be disinclined to play by the rules,' said David Young, formerly one of the most senior civil servants in the Ministry of Defence, who once played the Defence Secretary. Some of them liked talking too much, so you'd get behind schedule.'
It was vital that everyone knew the timetable and stuck to the strategy, whatever their personal opinions.
'What you really don't want to happen in a major crisis is for the ministers and the key officials to be wasting time arguing. They should be spending their time defusing the crisis,' said Sir David Omand, a senior civil servant and former chairman of Whitehall's Security and Intelligence Committee, who took part in many rehearsals.
Indeed, records of these 'transition to war' exercises, paint a vivid picture of how World War III might have unfolded.
Official advice on building a bomb shelter
The 1968 exercise, codenamed 'Invaluable', for example, began on September 27 and gives the clearest indication of how the strategies laid out in the War Book would have been implemented in the run-up to a real global conflict.
This exercise began with a fictional scenario in which a cabal of 'hawks' won control in the Soviet Union - always known as ORANGE in the secret documents.
At 11.30am on the day of the crisis, the Cabinet met in Conference Room B in Whitehall, and decided to secretly prepare the government bunkers.
They also agreed to prepare a draconian Emergency Powers (defence) Act, which could be rushed through Parliament and provide them with extraordinary powers in the event of war.
Within days, the international situation deteriorated further. The Soviet Union's new hawkish leaders started making increasingly belligerent threats.
Turkey, a Nato ally, was alarmed by growing arms shipments between the Soviet Union and Syria. Soviet forces were deployed along the Soviet-Norwegian border. And a large concentration of Soviet Bloc naval power built up in the Baltic.
War drew ever closer - and as the pace of events sped up, there seemed little hope of a peaceful resolution.
Soviet aircraft were soon moved into Eastern European airfields and Soviet fighters, which had started harassing civil aircraft in the Berlin air corridor, forced a Pan Am civil airliner to crash.
As East Germany accused West Germany of plans to invade, Czech and Hungarian forces massed on the border with Austria. And then, the following day, the most dramatic twist yet: the USSR landed a man on the moon.
This was a populist publicity coup that intelligence experts feared would bolster Soviet resolve and encourage them to attack Nato.
Meanwhile, there were the first signs of unrest in the UK as dock and railway workers went on strike, apparently agitated by Soviet agents.
Letters also began to appear in newspapers asking when householders would be advised on how to protect their homes. Widespread panic was never far away.
In this darkening climate, the Cabinet met again, at 3.30pm on October 17 1968.
Among other things, they decided to implement covert measure 2.11, which readied Britain's phone network for the crisis and saw the erection of additional fall-out protection, constructed out of concrete blocks, around significant buildings.
Steps were also taken to put police, fire and civil defence services on a war footing so they were ready to deal with a nuclear attack. The Chiefs of Staff were also told to prepare for the evacuation of any military casualties from Germany.
As the exercise rolled on, the Cabinet also announced the general mobilisation of all the Armed Forces, including reserves, and ensured that British troops in Germany were prepared for a massive conventional attack.
It was now only matter of time before the order would be given to evacuate personnel to the bunkers.
In a real crisis, this order could have come without warning. And that moment would have been genuinely dreadful for the government staff involved.
These civil servants would have gone in advance of the ministers and would have been given just a few hours to return home and say goodbye to their families before reporting at Addison Road station, near London's Olympia.
From there, special trains would have taken them to Warminster military base.
To prevent widespread alarm, they would then have been driven secretly down side roads and under cover of darkness to their respective bunkers.
It would have been a harrowing journey, and as they descended into their subterranean refuge, all would have feared that they would never again see the world as they knew it.
Indeed, so awful was the prospect of having to abandon your family and retreat to a claustrophobic bunker, that senior officials feared many of their staff would fail to report for duty.
As a result, the plans were kept secret from many of those who would have to go underground. These civil servants often went through their entire careers without ever realising they were earmarked for one of the bunkers.
Back to the 1968 rehearsal and the hawkish Soviet leaders invaded Austria. Their Warsaw Pact allies attacked Greece and Turkey. War moved a step closer.
As the invasions were reported, panic began to take hold on the streets of Britain. There was massive demand for foodstuffs - particularly canned goods - and shortages-were reported in some areas.
It was still too early to accurately gauge the nation's mood, but crowds began to gather in Downing Street and Whitehall. Many were calling for Britain to declare its neutrality and step outside the conflict.
There were reports of people starting to fortify their homes. Few turned up for work and hardware shops and builders' yards were overwhelmed as people bought wood, concrete and sand with which to construct makeshift bunkers.
The crisis really had come home.
And so, the Cabinet took some of the last steps recommended by the War Book. They discharged all but the most acutely ill from hospital, moved major art treasures from London and Edinburgh to safe underground storage facilities - and applied the toughest of new laws, allowing for the possibility of summary executions for looting.
Then came the point of no return. Soviet Bloc forces invaded West Germany. Tanks and troops poured over the border; the Soviet leadership was appealing to Western workers to overthrow governments and warned that any use of nuclear weapons by Nato would cause violent reprisals.
Both chemical and biological weapons were used by the Soviets. Within days, the Red Army could have swept through France and reached the Channel.
From deep inside his bunker, the Prime Minister took the terrible decision - and authorised a tactical strike, using nuclear weapons to attack a number of carefully selected military targets.
The Soviets also unleashed a major strike and the Prime Minister felt he was left with no choice but to announce R hour ... the release of all remaining nuclear weapons. Armageddon was now a certainty.
For those taking part in the 1968 exercise, this was a chilling moment. David Young, who played the defence secretary, can still recall the feeling. 'It made my hairs stand up,' he said.
These exercises were phased out in the early 1990s and the War Book soon became an irrelevance, to be hidden away in a dusty filing cabinet. As an historic document, however, it is as haunting as ever, a terrifying reminder of just how close we came to Armageddon.