Men wearing green jumpsuits stand in the elevator, descending 60 feet into a bunker deep under the ground at Vandenberg Air Force Base. The door opens to a dim, cave-like structure. The ceiling is low, the air is cold, and the walls are painted with murals of custom-designed mission patches. Beyond the darkness is a narrow, florescent-light-illuminated room filled with electronic cabinets and a pair of consoles with two padded chairs.
This is where Air Force officers 1st Lt. Eric Schoenhals and 2nd Lt. Jason LaHatte could launch some of the deadliest weapons in the world—Minuteman III nuclear-tipped intercontinental ballistic missiles (ICBM).
It’s similar to a scene out of the movie War Games, except it’s real life. But what happens in this room is not as real as launching an actual nuke. Schoenhals and LaHatte are only here for training, and the missiles at Vandenberg lack their warheads. The Sun got an exclusive look inside an ICBM bunker at Vandenberg and a peek into how the highly trained Air Force missileers maintain sanity on the job and, according to Air Force documents acquired by the Sun, when things go awry.
As tensions grow between the U.S. and North Korea, the remote possibility of nuclear Armageddon has, once again, crept into the minds of Americans. The last nuclear weapon used in combat was on Aug. 9, 1945, when the U.S. detonated an atomic bomb over the Japanese city of Nagasaki, which effectively ended World War II. North Korea test-fired two ballistic missiles in April, but they both failed, according to South Korea’s Yonhap News.
Whether ordered to act in a first strike or in retaliation, LaHatte and Schoenhals are missileers, an elite group of young Air Force officers who are expected to launch the armed ICBMs when that time comes, if it ever comes. But it’s mainly the expectation of a launch that theoretically keeps adversaries in check.
Like all Air Force missileers, Schoenhals and LaHatte are trained at Vandenberg, first as junior officers who come to the base for initial training and then again as full-fledged missileers to test-launch unarmed Minuteman missiles. Either way, they’re training under the supervision of the base’s 576th Training Squadron.
“It says a lot about the trust the government places in us,” LaHatte said. “It motivates us to do the best job we can possibly do.”
Learning to launch
Both the 24-year-old LaHatte and 31-year-old Schoenhals were selected to become Air Force missileers. LaHatte, who hails from Georgia, originally wanted to be a pilot, but issues with his vision prevented him from becoming one. Originally from Albany, N.Y., Schoenhals was enlisted for nine years before becoming an officer. In military parlance, he’s referred to as a “mustang.” Before his current mission, Schoenhals worked on KC-135 refueling planes.
Missileers tend to be a younger group of officers, according to Global Strike Command’s Capt. Chris Mesnard, and, like pilots, they’re highly regarded among Air Force officers.
“It’s similar to the mentality they try to instill into the missileer trainees,” Mesnard told the Sun.
The selection process is rigorous, according to Col. Craig Ramsey, who commands the 576th Test Flight Squadron, the unit at Vandenberg that trains missileers. Training is roughly six months and includes classroom and simulator instruction.
When they complete their training, missileers are assigned to their respective units and return to the command of the 576th to test launch unarmed Minuteman missiles. An April 26 launch was an operational test of the system.
When not in training, LaHatte and Schoenhals are stationed at Malmstrom Air Force Base in Montana. Other ICBM silos are located in Wyoming, Colorado, Nebraska, and North Dakota.
All squadrons “post out,” or deploy together across a series of five inter-connected, geographically separate missile alert facilities (MAF), or bunkers, and are in charge of up to 50 missiles. Heavy blast doors protect each control capsule. The MAFs are all connected via underground cable and are therefore a closed circuit system, ensuring that they can’t be hacked from the outside.
Duty is rotational. Crews are composed of two people. When one crew isn’t on alert inside the capsule, another is topside in a makeshift facility complete with living quarters, kitchen, and a bathroom. Three crews each rotate out every eight hours. Missileers are on duty 24 hours a day, 365 days a year.
There’s a lot of downtime inside the capsules. Training is a major part of the routine. Crews are constantly reviewing a set of manuals and checklists that sit on a shelf above the consoles. When not training, crews often pass the time in other ways. LaHatte and Schoenhals take advantage of the time by studying for their master’s degrees.
They also take advantage of the time to keep physically fit inside the control center, according to the 341st Missile Wing’s Lt. Col. Tony Rhoades, where they’ll knock out several rounds of pushups or other exercises.
“It’s amazing the trust the government places in the U.S. military,” LaHatte said. “We’re super proud of what we do. It’s an incredible responsibility, and it speaks for itself.”
Drugs and doldrums
The missileer life is not for everyone. With long hours, low stimulation, and isolation, burnout is a real possibility.
According to the federally funded RAND Corporation in 2013, the Associated Press reported “heightened levels of misconduct,” including spousal abuse among missileers. The court martial rate in 2011 and 2012 was double among missileers compared to the rest of the Air Force, according to the report.
A trio of Malmstrom AFB missileers faced court martial in 2015 for drug use, and were subsequently dismissed from the Air Force, according to documents obtained by the Sun.
Hundreds of pages of court martial transcripts obtained by the Sun with a Freedom of Information Act request detail a case that began as a drug investigation and resulted in the dismissal of nine officers and the resignation of Malmstrom’s base commander due to a proficiency test cheating scandal. It was the largest dismissal of officers in the Air Force at the time, according to The New York Times.
Air Force lieutenants Nicole Dalmazzi, Lance Balthazar, and Michael Alonso pleaded guilty to charges ranging from unauthorized use to conspiracy to distribute ecstasy and cocaine following an investigation that began in 2013.
Evidence in the case hinged on a confidential informant, whose name is redacted in the transcripts, and a wire recording, both used by the Air Force Office of Special Investigations.
“It all started as a classified leak and so everybody freaked out,” said Capt. Terry Coutler, Dalmazzi’s defense counsel, during her court martial in January 2015.
Balthazar came to Vandenberg for missileer training in 2011. A short time later, Balthazar began using ecstasy and cocaine he purchased from the online Silk Road drug market several times using Bitcoin digital currency, according to Air Force documents.
In 2013, all three reportedly attended the inaugural Nocturnal Wonderland Concert in San Bernardino when Alonso and Dalmazzi started using ecstasy. According to text messages presented at Balthazar’s court martial, one of the officers was afraid she might not be able to “get back to a normal state of mind.” The drug use continued at Malmstrom, where Dalmazzi and Balthazar were assigned to the 12th Missile Squadron, according to Air Force documents.
When the Silk Road was shut down in 2013, Alonso admitted during his court martial that he agreed with the other officers to travel to California via airplane and buy 50 ecstasy pills to bring back to Montana.
When the court martial concluded, all three officers received dismissals from the Air Force and were sentenced to periods of jail confinement. Alonso and Dalmazzi received three months and one month in jail, respectively. Balthazar received 14 months of confinement. Dalmazzi has since appealed her case to the U.S. Supreme Court.
It’s not clear what caused the officers to pursue drug use. All three were high achievers, court records show. Both Balthazar and Alonso were graduates of the Air Force Academy, and Dalmazzi entered the reserve officer training corps in her second year of college.
At the time Alonso started using ecstasy, he was cleared for sensitive ICBM missions, including missile code change operations, and was selected as his squadron’s deputy missile combat crew commander.
Alonso even received an Air Force achievement medal for saving the life of a civilian, court records show.
“I really don’t have the answers,” Col. Ramsey told the Sun. “I’d like to believe that those two young men, or some of those young men, brought some of that baggage with them. I’d like to think that they didn’t find it at the Air Force Academy.”
For Alonso, the trouble might have started as a boy. According to court records, Alonso was in eighth grade sitting in class in New York City on Sept. 11, 2001, when he witnessed both jets slam into the towers of the World Trade Center.
“‘Mom, I saw everything, including the second plane that crashed,’” Alonso’s mother recalled him saying. She spoke during the sentencing phase of his court martial.
The incident inspired Alonso to join the Air Force, according to his mother’s testimony. Alonso met with former New Jersey Sen. Jon Corzine and a family friend/Navy SEAL Team Six commander while touring military academies. Both encouraged him to get good grades.
Alonso addressed his mother and wife in the courtroom during the trial.
“Mom, I know you and Pop have been there for me forever,” he said. “I remember the long nights of admission testings and the SAT studies, and I squandered those today. Will you forgive me?”
Episodes like this are not entirely uncommon in the ICBM community. A 1992 report by the U.S. government’s General Accounting Office (GAO) identified a need to establish more specific screening criteria to determine “whether individuals’ behaviors may have adversely affect their reliability.”
The Air Force has several programs in place meant to encourage young and single airmen from going down the wrong path. One is Morale, Welfare, and Recreation. It provides free or discounted recreational opportunities such as skydiving or camping trips, Col. Ramsey said.
Then there’s a peer-monitoring program called Personnel Reliability Program (PRP). If circumstances arise that would affect a missileer’s nuclear weapons duties, the report stated, PRP officials have the authority to revoke their certification either temporarily or permanently. At the time of the 1992 GAO report, less than 4 percent, or as many as 2,600 individuals, of the nuclear weapons force were permanently decertified for reasons like “substance abuse, conviction of a serious offense, and poor physical or mental condition,” the report stated.
Citing a 2009 Defense Science Board report, Slate reported that the number is much lower, about 310 personnel across all three branches of service.
“PRP makes sure we’re there emotionally, mentally, and physically,” LaHatte told the Sun. “It’s a wingman system. We look out for each other.” Schoenhals’ grandmother died while he was on alert and it did affect him, he said. His crewmates were there to provide support.
“You don’t want to be sitting 60 feet underground knowing what’s going on back home,” Schoenhals said. “It’s a safety net.”
A MAD world
While the U.S. president has the sole authority to launch ICBMs, there are several measures in place to prevent an all-out nuclear war.
First, launch orders are authenticated down the chain of command, including by the MAF crews, who follow a specific checklist. It takes two crewmembers to launch a missile. Special keys must be inserted at each of the consoles and turned at the same time.
The launch consoles date back to the 1970s, but LaHatte and Schoenhals said the equipment is extremely reliable. Maintenance is conducted by missileers on a regular schedule.
If there was ever a rogue crew, the other crews within the squadron have the power to stop them, LaHatte said, adding that the squadrons are always in constant communication with each other. If a nuclear weapon is launched, he added, it doesn’t mean all of them are launched at once.
But what’s stopping the president from ordering a launch at will? It boils down to a military doctrine called mutual assured destruction (MAD). What this means, basically, is both sides face total devastation if a nuclear weapon is launched and the other side retaliates.
This is described as deterrence, Schoenhals said, and there are two components to it.
One is the viability of the weapons system, or making sure it works. Like the Minuteman launched on April 26, the Air Force periodically test-launches an ICBM. Col. Ramsey said any seeming correspondence to North Korean tests is purely coincidental and added that test launches are planned at least five years in advance with some schedule adjustments.
Col. Chris Moss, commander of the 30th Space Wing at Vandenberg, confirmed at a March 8 luncheon held on base that a delegation of Japanese and South Korean dignitaries were present to witness one of the ICBM launches in 2016. In addition to scheduling and accountability, the ongoing training keeps alive the reality of retaliation.
“Training is huge,” Schoenhals said. “It’s that muscle memory. That’s what we rely on as missileers. We’re always ready to execute on a moment’s notice. Knowing that we provide a deterrent keeps us going.”
The other side of deterrence, despite the idea of assured annihilation, is that the president must be willing to use the weapons.
Despite a non-proliferation treaty signed by 191 countries as of August 2016, nuclear weapons are here to stay. Currently, eight countries are known to possess nuclear weapons. They include the U.S., Russia, China, Great Britain, France, India, Pakistan, and North Korea. Israel is suspected of having nuclear weapons, although it hasn’t been confirmed. Pakistan and India haven’t signed the treaty, and North Korea withdrew from it in 2003.
In case a missile is ever launched at the U.S., Vandenberg has an interceptor system ready. *
The 341st Missile Wing’s Lt. Colonel Rhoades, who was present during the April 26 launch, weighed in.
“Our primary focus is preventing our adversaries from attacking us and our allies,” he said. “The decision to use a nuclear weapon is extensive. I have confidence. Knowing that gives me comfort.”
Staff Writer David Minsky can be reached at dminsky@santamariasun.com.
* Correction: May 5, 2017. The May 3 launch at Vandenberg was an unarmed Minuteman III (ICBM) test, and not associated with the interceptor system as previously reported.
This article appears in May 4-11, 2017.