Nike Ajax Maintenance in Alameda, California, 1958

Bill Momsen

All text and images (except as noted) copyright © by the author, 2004 - 2007. 

During the cold war period (1945-1989) it was realized that new weaponry would be required to defend against Russian attack by long-range nuclear-armed warplanes.

Nike Ajax (click to enlarge, 13K) was developed to replace the 90 and 120 mm anti-aircraft guns, which were effective only up to 40,000 feet. Ajax was the first SAM (Surface to Air Missile) system to be deployed, with a maximum altitude of 60,000 feet, traveling at Mach 2.3. Powered by liquid fuels, very sleek, at 21 feet long and one foot in diameter, it carried three conventional warheads. A solid propellant booster rocket started it on its way. 

A typical Nike site consisted of a single IFC (Integrated Fire Control) area comprised of  Acquisition Radar, which scanned for targets, TTR (Target Tracking Radar), MTR (Missile Tracking Radar), BCT (Battery Control Trailer) and associated ancillaries, such as generators in case commercial power failed. An analog (!) computer calculated  how the missile course should be corrected to intercept the target. Appropriate steering commands were then relayed to the missile. Typically there were three (occasionally four) launcher areas. The missiles were housed in an underground bunker mounted on "handling rails" equipped with four rollers. When a missile was to be readied it was manually rolled on the "loading racks"  to the launcher/elevator, and raised above ground, where it was moved out to one of three fixed launchers. The fourth stayed on the launcher which was mounted to the elevator. The missiles were then raised to firing position. To ready them for launch, a number of red flags on the missile had to be removed. Of course, there were many other safety features which had to be disabled in the event the missile was to actually be fired.  

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After basic electronics at Ft. Monmouth, New Jersey, I was assigned to  internal guidance repair, NIKE , MOS 254.1 (Military Operational Specialty - the Army is great on acronyms) at Redstone Arsenal in Alabama and became part of  the Ordnance Corps.

I spent an easy year in Alameda CA (San Francisco Bay Area) with the 197th Ordnance Detachment performing maintenance on Nike Ajax missiles at the three batteries ringing the Oakland area, which included Alameda NAS (Naval Air Station). There were no barracks at the Oakland Army Terminal, where we were based; everyone lived in apartments. When three of us went on a call in the morning, we’d take turns dropping one guy off at his place. Next  a decision had to be made - where would we stop for coffee? We proceeded to the site and performed maintenance or repair. On our return the same problem arose - where to stop for coffee.

Ordnance vs. Artillery 

Originally, Ordnance was concerned with explosives, Artillery  with actually firing anti-aircraft weaponry. When electronically guided missiles replaced the long guns, the shift did not always go smoothly. Now Ordnance was charged with keeping delicate missile electronics in working order, while Artillery actually fired them. Arriving at one of the sites we saw with horror that the Artillery guys were "cleaning" our electronics with a fire hose! 

Although the Artillery folks were spit-and-polish outfits, Ordnance personnel were a bit on the sloppy side for Army SOP (Standard Operating Procedure). Many times a second lieutenant at one of the sites would catch sight of our dirty uniforms and unpolished boots and descend on us with fire in his eyes, ready to mete out a horrible punishment. That is, until he caught site of our Ordnance collar insignia  ("Ball and  Flame", better known as "The Flying Pisspot") and then it was "Oh, hi guys, anything I can do for you?" Ordnance wielded special powers, for we were the ones who kept the missiles ready to fire 24/7/365. Our shop, based at the Oakland Army Terminal, serviced three batteries ringing Oakland, protecting the city and Alameda Naval Air Station. If a missile was down for some reason it was sidelined while waiting for parts if we didn't have them in stock. The Battery Commander was responsible for the ready state of his armament and rated on how many were operational at a time, which was actually our responsibility. We were able to mitigate the situation by simply switching nameplates, each having its own unique serial number, showing one missile repaired, but a different one off-line in the log.

Disaster!

A memorial to Army and civilian casualties is located at Ft. Hancock. (photo courtesy of Peter De Marco - 63K)

The first Nike fatalities occurred May 22, 1958 at a site in Leonardo, New Jersey near Middletown, resulting in the deaths of four civilian employee deaths and six GIs. Ironically, the Army had just presented a series of lectures to the townspeople explaining how safe Nike was. True, there were multiple safety features to prevent the booster or rocket motor from starting prematurely, or the warheads from bursting. To understand what went so terribly wrong, an understanding of how the warheads were detonated is necessary. 

Nike Ajax contained three warheads, each connected to primer cords (fuses) whose primary component consisted of PETN (Pentaerythrioltetranitrate) which came together at a four-way connector, connected in turn to an electrically activated igniter. The fitting where the primer cord connected to the warhead was designed to fit loosely. The accident occurred during a modification to replace the safety and arming mechanism with an improved device. For this the warheads had to be removed. Apparently someone had the brilliant idea of shimming the connection from the primer cord to the warhead with anything at hand - a washer, bits of solder, etc. to make it fit more tightly. When the unsuspecting GI used a wrench to remove the cord from the warhead, a spark set off the explosive. The extensive safeguards were bypassed. All seven missiles in B battery exploded, strewing bits and pieces and shrapnel over a three mile area. In addition, the booster on one missile in A battery ignited, sending the unarmed missile harmlessly into a hillside. 

All the warheads had to be removed for inspection, including those at the sites we serviced. First, a glue was applied to freeze the primer cord in place, then it was snipped using special non-metallic pliers. The warhead was then moved to a revetment constructed of sandbags. Since we were in electronics we had nothing to do with explosives, but watched the proceeding from a safe(?) distance. What looked liked an electric drill motor connected to a wrench was used to unscrew the PETN cap. It was activated remotely by long lanyards which controlled its movements. It was dubbed George, as in "Let George do it." All our warheads were retrofitted without incident, although we we were disappointed when an expected explosion didn't take place.. This exercise was repeated at all Nike sites in the US, and some overseas. 

Keep on Truckin'

Somehow, during basic training I was assigned to truck driving school. I became qualified for everything from a ¼-Ton (Jeep) through buses up to a 5-Ton wrecker. This worked out quite well - while troops rode in the rain, I sat up front in the enclosed cab with the Lieutenant. It also got me out of some of the worst training, for example, the gas chamber, an enclosed space in which a grenade was set off and masks had to be donned in a hurry. In Alameda I was fortunate to have assigned to me a wonderful REO M35 deuce-and-a-half 2½ ton similar to this image (10K), but that was its payload - it weighed 5 tons empty with all the armor plating), equipped with a 5 speed manual transmission plus a "brownie" (actually a 2-speed rear end) for 10 forward speeds (with judicial double-clutching) and 2 reverse. At one time we had a call to one of the sites, but the whole area was flooded. The road was elevated above surrounding agricultural fields, but was also under water. It seemed as if I was driving on the surface of a vast lake, with only the utility poles along the road to guide me. I must have drifted to the left, because before I knew it we had slipped off the embankment at a 45 degree angle, with water almost reaching the driver's window (which was some five feet off the ground). Frantically grabbing at levers, pulling knobs and stomping pedals I got it into fording mode, with the air intake and exhaust through the snorkels, drive line breathers closed, in "grandma" (low-low gear) and that wonderful machine climbed back onto the road with no trouble at all. I don't know why, but we were also allocated a 5-Ton wrecker (in case one of our other trucks got stuck?), a huge beast. It had several steps just to climb up in the cab, was equipped with power steering and a compressed-air assisted gearshift. What a monster. Once I took it to San Francisco over the Bay Bridge, and even going through the extra-wide truck lane, one set of wheels was up on a berm. All the trucks were equipped with governors to prevent over-revving. The first order of the day was to take one so equipped to a steep hill and let it roll downhill, picking up speed, until the engine was turning over beyond the set limit, which pretty much destroyed the governor.

Missile Awaaaay!

Occasionally we would practice a "Full Alert" where the TTR (Target Tracking Radar) would lock onto a civilian airliner. The siren screamed, and the crew ran to their stations. When it came time for a simulated "launch missile" an electrical signal traveled from the BCT (Battery Control Trailer) to the launcher area, where it was routed to the launcher. To test the signal, a technician plugged a voltmeter into the launcher and hollered "Missile Away!" which was relayed by voice to Battery Control. We knew it was just a matter of time before some doofus would plug the booster into the launcher instead of the voltmeter and, of course be fried to a crisp when it ignited. So, when we heard "Missile Away!" we pulled a strategic wire and the "Missile Away" light came on in the BCT. "Horrors! We've shot down a commercial carrier!" Of course, the missile wasn't armed, and it could have been "Burst" (destroyed), but still .... We blamed it on a faulty relay. Procedures were modified. There is a story of a crew at another site who used a crowbar to move the missile forward to activate the "missile away" sensor. How crude! Our method was far more elegant.

Miscellany

One time I went to a San Francisco site on an inspection tour. At the time I was a SP4 (Corporal, Specialist) and took great pleasure in seeing a Second Lieutenant anxiously peering over my shoulder at my clipboard as I noted "Rust on antenna wire .." 

Frequently, anyone who looked like they weren't doing anything would be rounded up for "details", sweeping, mopping floors, whatever, so our thoughts were frequently on how to avoid being tapped. My favorite hiding place was between the large fins at the rear of the missile, where I would stretch out for a nap.

We were subject to regular inspections, where our gear was laid out in front of us. One time the inspectors were checking out the man next to me, when the orderly came running up, saying "Momsen, your wife is having a baby!" I was excused immediately.

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Alas! My time of easy duty and warm weather didn't last. I was sent up to Alaska in December!

Go to Part II, detailing my experiences installing Nike Hercules Missiles in Alaska, with many more images and links.

Other Ajax Links

Nike Explosion Many images of the Nike site in Leonardo NJ showing damage resulting from the disaster.

Diagrams of the handling rail, and links to other detailed drawings. This link takes you to a site in Holland.

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