There was a period during the Cold War when
tensions were so high that the United States kept nuclear-armed heavy bombers in the air
24-7. Every hour of the day there were bombers that were airborne, ready to drop their bombs,
under the belief that those bombers would guarantee a second strike capability, even if a
first strike by the Soviet Union had destroyed all of America's airfields. It was an amazing
program carried on by our nation's armed forces, an astounding feat of logistics. But it did raise
a problem, because all of that flight time meant that accidents would occur, and if an accident
occurred then that would necessarily involve thermonuclear bombs. And it's perhaps a
statement on how inured we become to the existence of nuclear weapons that the nation
seems to have forgotten about the five, yes, five, airplane crashes involving thermonuclear
bombs that occurred during the lifetime of the program that was called, Operation Chrome Dome.
It is history that deserves to be remembered. At the height of the Cold War, leaders sincerely
feared their opponent would contemplate nuclear armageddon. And believed that nuclear war
could only be avoided on a credible promise, that if either side were to launch a first strike,
they would inevitably be destroyed themselves as well. But that status quo was challenged with
the advent of nuclear missiles, and what the US perceived to be a missile gap. For example, in
the period 1961 to 1963, national intelligence estimates were that the Soviet Union had between
200 and 300 intercontinental ballistic missiles, and seven to 800 intermediate range missiles.
That was enough that, intelligence estimated, the Soviet Union could destroy all the
US and allied nuclear retaliatory forces, even if those forces were on ground alert. To
fill the gap, the allies needed to be able to have their strategic bombers respond more quickly
than ground alert allowed. General Thomas S. Power, the Commander-in-Chief of the United States
Strategic Air Command, pioneered the somewhat radical idea that the air force's new bomber, the
B-52, could maintain 24-hour airborne alert duty. US bombers carrying hydrogen bombs, and
all the codes and equipment needed to arm and deploy those bombs, would be airborne at
all times. Loitering at strategic locations outside soviet airspace, where they could
quickly retaliate, or counter any threat. The idea was radical, it would press the
equipment and the personnel in ways that had never been tested before. The idea of
aerial refueling goes back to the 1920s. The first known in-flight refueling
between two planes occurred on june 27th 1923, between two Airco DH.4B bi-planes of the
United States Army Air Service. Using this process DH.4Bs were able to set a number of air endurance
records in the early 1920s, and later aircraft continued to experiment with the process,
and set endurance records through the 1930s. But these systems, despite their obvious
potential, were still rudimentary and dangerous, and none were regularly utilized during the
Second World War. You could say that the idea had truly achieved its potential when, from
February 26 to March 3rd of 1949, an American B-50 Super Fortress long-range heavy bomber named
Lucky Lady 2 of the 43rd Bomb Wing, flew non-stop around the world in 94 hours and one minute.
A feat made possible by in-flight refueling. But in reality, the process for keeping heavy
bombers in the air for long periods of time was already being tested by the Air Force prior to
Lucky Lady 2's flight. SAC had been considering some version of air alert for years, but the
technology was not considered to be ready. The first test of the concept was done in the spring
of 1958 under the code name, Operation Curtain Raiser, using B-36 bombers of the 72nd Bomb Wing,
flying from Rambi Air Force Base in Puerto Rico. Then that winter, the test continued with
Operation Head Start using B-52 bombers of the 40nd Heavy Bomb Wing, first from Loring
Air Force Base in Maine, and then from Bergstrom Air Force Base in Texas. The program required more
than improving in-flight fueling techniques, they included researching maintenance schedules, crew
schedules, flight paths and even crew nutrition. To be sure, the program was controversial
within the military, and the government. General Curtis LeMay who had previously been
the Director of the Strategic Air Command, and from 1957, was Vice Chief of Staff of the
United States Air Force, expressed concerns about cost, flexibility, crew fatigue, the ability to
coordinate the plane's attack with other forces, competition with other air force
priorities and the impact on longevity of the B-52 bombers. Oddly, he did not list
among his concerns the fear that there could be accidents involved with constantly operating
heavy bombers carrying thermonuclear weapons. Certainly one of the most pressing issues of
the technology was the in-flight refueling, which had not, to that point, been used on
anything approaching the scale. The Lucky Lady 2 was refueled using the clumsy looped hose
method in a modified B-29. The system depended upon the tanker using a sort of grappling hook
to grab a cable let out by the receiver aircraft. The Air Force knew at the time the system was too
clumsy for regular use. Next the Air Force tested a probe and drogue system where the tanker uses
a flexible hose with a basket that goes over a probe on the receiver aircraft. While this is a
far simpler system than the looped hose method, and still widely used today, and preferred by
the US Navy, the system has a limited flow rate due to the flexibility of the hose. Instead,
the US Air Force preferred a rigid flying boom, where an extendable boom is maneuvered into a
receptacle on the receiving aircraft. But even with this system the Air Force had a problem
with their tanker aircraft. The KB-29 and its replacement, the KC-97 Strato Freighter, were both
developments of the Boeing B-29. As piston-driven aircraft, they were too slow for jet aircraft
causing many problems and risks in refueling. A B-52 typically had to raise its flaps and
lower its landing gear to slow down enough for aerial refueling. In addition, the piston
driven aircraft required a reduction in altitude to around 16 to 18,000 feet which often put the
bombers right in the clouds, and turbulence, as they were being refueled. In 1957, the Air Force
started phasing in the Boeing KC-135 StratoTanker. Based on the Boeing 707, the KC-135 was the
Air Force's first jet-powered refueling tanker. Finally, the Air Force had a workable system
to practically allow airborne alert duty. Despite continued concerns
by the Air Force about costs, SAC continued to fly fully prepared, nuclear-armed
strategic bombers in the air around the clock for the next decade. The broader program
became called Operation Chrome Dome. Operation Chrome Dome might have as many as a
dozen bombers in the air, and ready to strike at any time of the day or night. A typical Chrome
Dome mission, which might be flown by one B-52, or a group of three, called a Cell, would
take off from Fairchild Air Force Base near Spokane Washington, across the US to the
Atlantic Ocean, up to the Arctic Circle, turn towards Alaska, and then back to Fairchild.
The mission would take around 24 hours, and include two in-flight refuelings. Crews quickly
became adept at the system. But Chrome Dome meant a huge amount of flight hours; over six thousand
airborne alert missions had been flown by 1961. With that much flying things would certainly go
wrong. While the program was itself no secret, General Power had announced the operation
publicly as the purpose was deterrence, the Air Force was characteristically obtuse to
the public about the risks. A quotation from SAC in TIME magazine in 1961 said, “At worst, only
the TNT in an unarmed H-bomb explodes on impact.” The first accident involving nuclear bombs of
Operation Chrome Dome came January 24th 1961 over Goldsboro North Carolina. A B-52-G
experienced a fuel leak that evolved into a structural problem causing the
crew to lose control of the aircraft. Five of the crew bailed out safely, three
died. One of the two nuclear bombs on board was recovered, and another buried itself so
deeply in a field that it could not be recovered. The Air Force bought an easement on the land,
and much of the bomb is still buried there today. Neither of the bombs high explosive components
had exploded, and no radiation was released. But the bombs had progressed through much of their
arming sequences, moving them dangerously close to a nuclear detonation. Experts still disagree as to
the extent of that possibility. Flaws were found in the design of the wet wing of the B-52 designed
to hold fuel, and the areas susceptible to fatigue were modified to improve stability. Two months
later in March, a series of mechanical failures and crew mistakes caused a B-52F to run out of
fuel near Yuba City California. The crew all managed to eject from the plane safely, and the
plane crashed into a clear flat barley field. The onboard nuclear weapons were released but their
safety interlocks held, and there was no explosion or release of radiation. A third crash during
Operation Chrome Dome occurred in January 1964, when the stabilizer of a B-52B broke off in
rough weather. The plane crashed in rough territory near Savage Mountain Maryland. One crew
member was unable to eject, and two more froze to death after bailing out of the plane. The nuclear
bombs however were recovered relatively intact. Three accidents was not a surprise given
the large amount of flight time involved in Operation Chrome Dome, but none of
those three accidents instead resulted in any radiation loss, or even the
explosion of the high explosives on the nuclear warheads. But that luck
would run out on January 17th 1966. A B-52G flying from Seymour Johnson Air
Force Base in North Carolina was flying the southern route of Operation Chrome Dome,
which took it across the Atlantic over Spain, and into the Mediterranean, before returning
home by Gibraltar. During the second refueling, off the coast of Spain, the B-52 came in too
fast. The boom operator did not, reportedly, call for the B-52 to break away. The B-52
struck the boom. The collision severed the left wing of the B-52 causing a fuel
explosion that destroyed the KC-135, killing all four crew members aboard. Two members
of the B-52 crew were located near the point of the collision, and were not able to eject.
A third ejected, but his chute did not open. The B-52 radar navigator suffered severe burns,
but landed safely, and was taken to the hospital. Three other crew members safely ejected, but
they landed in the ocean where they were rescued by fishermen. On board the disintegrating
aircraft were four Mark 28 hydrogen bombs. Three fell to the earth near the Spanish village
of Palomares, the fourth fell into the ocean. One of the three landed via parachute and was
intact, but the conventional explosives on the other two exploded on impact, causing radioactive
contamination across some 2.6 square miles of farmland, woods, and residential areas. Dispersing
some seven pounds of plutonium-239, a dangerous and toxic carcinogen. Air Force personnel were
rushed from US Air Force bases across Spain to aid in the cleanup. The US and Spain dug up 6,000
barrels of contaminated soil, and shipped it back to the United States. The Air Force called for the
assistance of the Navy to recover the fourth bomb. Nearly 30 navy vessels were involved in the
search, which took more than two months, despite having a witness who saw the bomb hit the
water. The bomb was eventually recovered using some of the highest technology recovery vehicles
in the navy. The submarine recovery ship USS Petrel, the deep submergent vehicle Alvin, and the
Cable-Controlled Undersea Recovery Vehicle CURV-1. After the accident Spain forbade the US Air
Force from overflying Spanish territory with aircraft carrying nuclear weapons, and other
countries issued complaints as well. Operation Chrome Dome was ended two years later
in 1968 when a fifth accident occurred, this one also releasing radioactive material,
this time in Greenland. Despite the cleanup, more radioactive material was found near Palomares
in 2006, and then at another site in 2008, and the United States and Spain have entered
into another agreement to do further monitoring, and clean up at the site. Both governments
claim that they found no ill health effects for the people of Palomares as a result
of the incident, but other experts argue that the site has been poorly monitored, and
that the health effects are still unknown. The empty casings of two of the bombs involved
in this incident are now on display in the National Museum of Nuclear Science and History in
Albuquerque New Mexico. Air Force personnel who are involved in the cleanup, now claim a number of
lingering health effects that they claim came from inadequate safety procedures. The Air Force has
denied any such links, and secrecy surrounding the event has made it difficult for the personnel
who have been so affected to claim benefits. In the end, it's not a surprise that Operation
Chrome Dome resulted in accidents. It was a very ambitious program that kept nuclear-armed
bombers in the air, around the clock, for a decade. It was almost certainly going to
lead to some accidents. But in fairness to the program, we cannot know the effect that it had
on nuclear deterrence during the tensest periods of the Cold War. Operation Chrome Dome might
well have prevented nuclear armageddon. Still, the five accidents of Operation Chrome
Dome remind us that no system is perfect, and that is important to know in the Nuclear Age.
It is history that deserves to be remembered. I'm the History Guy and I hope you enjoyed
this edition of my series of short snippets of forgotten history about 10 minutes long. And
if you did enjoy it, please go ahead and click that thumbs up button which is there on your
left. If you have any questions, or comments, feel free to write those in the comment
section, I will be happy to personally respond. And if you'd like more snippets of forgotten
history, all you need to do is subscribe.
Love this guy's videos, glad that he's getting some exposure
There’s a good book about the Palomares incident, too, which is called The Day We Lost The H-Bomb: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/day-we-lost-the-h-bomb-barbara-moran/1014365091?ean=9780345515230 More detail about what happened in this interview with the author: http://failuremag.com/article/the-day-we-lost-the-h-bomb
Nice channel. I like these channels with well-made content in little 10 minute stories like this. It's nice to drift off listening when I'm having trouble sleeping. Horror Stories is a good one too if you like the darker side of things.