Raven Rock Journal Entries:
24th August, 1988
It’s been a while since my last entry. A few days ago the brass decided we are to go topside and scout the area. Our scientists took what readings they could from down inside here and gave the go ahead. We weren’t sure what to expect out there, so a team from the Army, some medics, a scientific team and myself were assigned to the job. As hesitant as I was at finding out what was left of my home, it was also exciting, and finally a chance to get out of this mountain.
I took a walk down to the Army’s supply room to pick out some gear. Standard issue woodland BDU’s were on offer so I grabbed a set, along with some issued boots and an LC-1 set. I still had my side arm with me, but I wasn’t going out there armed with only a 9mm… I stopped by the armoury and convinced the supply clerk to sign out a Colt M723 assault rifle and a few mags. A moment of irony crossed me when I had to fill out a form for the weapon – I guess it was habit for the clerk but I don’t think he realised there wasn’t much of a military left anymore and he was probably the most senior supply clerk in all of the continental US.
The mission briefing was delivered in our make-shift ready room, myself, one of the science team, and the officers from the Army were told what the purpose of going outside was. Camp David was only 15 clicks north east of Raven Rock, we figured it would have been hit in the blasts and levelled. To the south east, a small town called Waynesboro, the closest civilisation, about 10 clicks away. Our tasks were two fold, some of the Signal’s Corp specialists were to get on top of the hill we were in and repair our radio communications towers to try restore some comms as well as give us the ability to broadcast emergency radio instructions over commercial frequencies. Anybody alive out there would at least know they weren’t alone and that help was near.
Part two involved the rest of us heading up to an observation point just outside the perimeter, to take a look at Camp David and assess the damage, if it looked intact we were to head over there and search for survivors – if not, our task was to head into Waynesboro and assess damage there, and again attempt to help any survivors we encountered.
Afterwards the egg heads briefed us on what we could expect to find outside the comfortable safety of our mountain. REM readings had dropped significantly since the bombs had fallen a few weeks before. They estimated most of the bombs were airburst, thankfully this method contained most radioactive fallout locally and sent much of the rest into the upper atmosphere. If it had been ground burst heavier dust particles would’ve dragged radioactive material down and scattered it on the ground. Having said that, our pre-war intel suggested that Soviet missiles were pretty “dirty”, slang in the trade for containing a high amount of radio active material due to their inefficient design – quantity over quality. Still, our chances of being cooked alive out there were pretty high, we wouldn’t know for sure until someone took the chance.
They advised that we all wear full NBC suits, that’s Nuclear Biological & Chemical protective clothing, and respirators. Not the most comfortable clothing option around, but it would at least give us a chance until ground readings could be taken and the level of radiation determined. Having said that… if levels were in the mid to high 1000’s nothing short of lead armour would help us out there. Beta radiation particles would bust through this material like a fat kid through butter, and penetrate our bodies down to the bone marrow. If that happened death was inevitable.
We suited up quietly, no one was really talking, I wasn’t scared or nervous, anxious possibly – whatever was gonna happen would happen, rather now than later – I was kind of looking forward to taking a breath of un-recycled air, but after testing out my mask I realised even the re-cycled air was better than breathing rubber tainted oxygen through a suction valve.
We loaded up a couple Humvee’s and a flatbed with supplies, mostly medical and emergency rations incase we found any survivors, and waited for the all clear. I was riding shotgun in the lead Humvee, we sat there for a few last moments waiting for the blast doors behind us to close before the ones in front opened, letting us out into this strange new world that was waiting for us. We all put our masks on and then the doors cracked open…
I wasn’t expecting the light to affect me so much, but I guess living on emergency lighting for 3 weeks had desensitized my eyes even to sunlight filtered through an overcast sky. I wished I had clipped the dark lenses onto my mask right about then, but it was affecting all of us, it took about 5 minutes for us to stop blinking enough to start focussing again. The driver started up the vehicle and we started creeping slowly out of the giant blast doors, there was a lot of debris scattered over the paved road at the entrance, tree’s mainly and the burnt out hulks of cars that were parked outside the facility – including my own I’ll add. A brief glimmer of hope crossed my mind – wondering if my AC/DC mix tape had survived the ordeal in the car – probably not…
We stopped about 50m out of the entrance and let the science team take some readings. The Geiger counter cracked, but not as bad as we had thought. May have just been our geographical position and no one wanted to take any risks just yet. The mask was starting to irritate me in a big way. Our patrol split up, the Signals team took a route to the top of the hill to begin repairing the radio towers while we took a road north east to get to our observation post. There was debris everywhere, the green forested hills surrounding the facility were gone, and all that was left were burnt out trunks of once tall trees. The earth was dusty brown, burnt, and the sky was grey. The atmosphere is full of pollutants a lot of which is blocking out the sunlight. We mounted up again and headed towards the east gate.
No one in the vehicle was really talking, the devastation had us all silenced as we tried to take it all in. I was staggered by how different everything was. It was quiet, the only sound came from our vehicle and the wind. We dodged debris in the road as we made our way up to the observation point. Seeing what had happened just outside the facility, I didn’t have much hope that Camp David would be in one piece… as we got to the top of the hill the true scale of the devastation became abundantly clear. We got out of the Humvee to take it in. As far as we could see nothing would have survived the blast out here, the ground was still smouldering in the distance as I pulled out some binoculars and scanned the horizon – the ground where Camp David used to be was flat… That’s all we needed to know. We took one last look, hoping to spot any sign of life or familiarity, before mounting up and heading back down the trail.
I took a walk down to the Army’s supply room to pick out some gear. Standard issue woodland BDU’s were on offer so I grabbed a set, along with some issued boots and an LC-1 set. I still had my side arm with me, but I wasn’t going out there armed with only a 9mm… I stopped by the armoury and convinced the supply clerk to sign out a Colt M723 assault rifle and a few mags. A moment of irony crossed me when I had to fill out a form for the weapon – I guess it was habit for the clerk but I don’t think he realised there wasn’t much of a military left anymore and he was probably the most senior supply clerk in all of the continental US.
The mission briefing was delivered in our make-shift ready room, myself, one of the science team, and the officers from the Army were told what the purpose of going outside was. Camp David was only 15 clicks north east of Raven Rock, we figured it would have been hit in the blasts and levelled. To the south east, a small town called Waynesboro, the closest civilisation, about 10 clicks away. Our tasks were two fold, some of the Signal’s Corp specialists were to get on top of the hill we were in and repair our radio communications towers to try restore some comms as well as give us the ability to broadcast emergency radio instructions over commercial frequencies. Anybody alive out there would at least know they weren’t alone and that help was near.
Part two involved the rest of us heading up to an observation point just outside the perimeter, to take a look at Camp David and assess the damage, if it looked intact we were to head over there and search for survivors – if not, our task was to head into Waynesboro and assess damage there, and again attempt to help any survivors we encountered.
Afterwards the egg heads briefed us on what we could expect to find outside the comfortable safety of our mountain. REM readings had dropped significantly since the bombs had fallen a few weeks before. They estimated most of the bombs were airburst, thankfully this method contained most radioactive fallout locally and sent much of the rest into the upper atmosphere. If it had been ground burst heavier dust particles would’ve dragged radioactive material down and scattered it on the ground. Having said that, our pre-war intel suggested that Soviet missiles were pretty “dirty”, slang in the trade for containing a high amount of radio active material due to their inefficient design – quantity over quality. Still, our chances of being cooked alive out there were pretty high, we wouldn’t know for sure until someone took the chance.
They advised that we all wear full NBC suits, that’s Nuclear Biological & Chemical protective clothing, and respirators. Not the most comfortable clothing option around, but it would at least give us a chance until ground readings could be taken and the level of radiation determined. Having said that… if levels were in the mid to high 1000’s nothing short of lead armour would help us out there. Beta radiation particles would bust through this material like a fat kid through butter, and penetrate our bodies down to the bone marrow. If that happened death was inevitable.
We suited up quietly, no one was really talking, I wasn’t scared or nervous, anxious possibly – whatever was gonna happen would happen, rather now than later – I was kind of looking forward to taking a breath of un-recycled air, but after testing out my mask I realised even the re-cycled air was better than breathing rubber tainted oxygen through a suction valve.
We loaded up a couple Humvee’s and a flatbed with supplies, mostly medical and emergency rations incase we found any survivors, and waited for the all clear. I was riding shotgun in the lead Humvee, we sat there for a few last moments waiting for the blast doors behind us to close before the ones in front opened, letting us out into this strange new world that was waiting for us. We all put our masks on and then the doors cracked open…
I wasn’t expecting the light to affect me so much, but I guess living on emergency lighting for 3 weeks had desensitized my eyes even to sunlight filtered through an overcast sky. I wished I had clipped the dark lenses onto my mask right about then, but it was affecting all of us, it took about 5 minutes for us to stop blinking enough to start focussing again. The driver started up the vehicle and we started creeping slowly out of the giant blast doors, there was a lot of debris scattered over the paved road at the entrance, tree’s mainly and the burnt out hulks of cars that were parked outside the facility – including my own I’ll add. A brief glimmer of hope crossed my mind – wondering if my AC/DC mix tape had survived the ordeal in the car – probably not…
We stopped about 50m out of the entrance and let the science team take some readings. The Geiger counter cracked, but not as bad as we had thought. May have just been our geographical position and no one wanted to take any risks just yet. The mask was starting to irritate me in a big way. Our patrol split up, the Signals team took a route to the top of the hill to begin repairing the radio towers while we took a road north east to get to our observation post. There was debris everywhere, the green forested hills surrounding the facility were gone, and all that was left were burnt out trunks of once tall trees. The earth was dusty brown, burnt, and the sky was grey. The atmosphere is full of pollutants a lot of which is blocking out the sunlight. We mounted up again and headed towards the east gate.
No one in the vehicle was really talking, the devastation had us all silenced as we tried to take it all in. I was staggered by how different everything was. It was quiet, the only sound came from our vehicle and the wind. We dodged debris in the road as we made our way up to the observation point. Seeing what had happened just outside the facility, I didn’t have much hope that Camp David would be in one piece… as we got to the top of the hill the true scale of the devastation became abundantly clear. We got out of the Humvee to take it in. As far as we could see nothing would have survived the blast out here, the ground was still smouldering in the distance as I pulled out some binoculars and scanned the horizon – the ground where Camp David used to be was flat… That’s all we needed to know. We took one last look, hoping to spot any sign of life or familiarity, before mounting up and heading back down the trail.
The Geiger counter cracked constantly while we were out there, we were being constantly exposed to radiation, the only thing keeping us from being poisoned were our NBC suits and respirators probably. I guessed the readings weren’t that high by virtue of the fact we weren’t dead yet, but I still didn’t want to risk getting out of my suit, it would probably end in Acute Radiation Poisoning and eventually death within a short time. It seemed the wind was carrying fall out eastwards, everything from the west is coming this way and it was apparent staying here – at least on the outside – is not an option. Despite the little hope, we drove in the direction of Waynesboro, the nearest town to see what we could find.
The town was nearly levelled. Buildings broken, the streets full of rubble and debris. No one could have survived the initial explosion, or the aftermath, and if that didn’t get them the radiation would have. If anybody is alive out there, they’re a long way away from Waynesboro…
We headed back to Site-R disheartened by what we had witnessed. The Soviets clearly weren’t messing around, they hit us hard and it shows. There’s no telling the scale of the destruction. When we got back we were immediately put in decontamination showers and cleaned off… Even with the NBC’s we couldn’t take any chances. It took me a couple days to re-adjust, I felt different physically, but I couldn’t tell if it had anything to do with the radiation. Some of those who went out showed some mild symptoms of ARS (Acute Radiation Sickness) but were taking to the infirmary for treatment as soon as we got out of decontamination.
I’m trying to get some rest now, but its hard to sleep with the knowledge I have now got turning in my mind. I had to give a debrief to the brass soon, it looks like we’re going to plan b, whatever plan b is…
The town was nearly levelled. Buildings broken, the streets full of rubble and debris. No one could have survived the initial explosion, or the aftermath, and if that didn’t get them the radiation would have. If anybody is alive out there, they’re a long way away from Waynesboro…
We headed back to Site-R disheartened by what we had witnessed. The Soviets clearly weren’t messing around, they hit us hard and it shows. There’s no telling the scale of the destruction. When we got back we were immediately put in decontamination showers and cleaned off… Even with the NBC’s we couldn’t take any chances. It took me a couple days to re-adjust, I felt different physically, but I couldn’t tell if it had anything to do with the radiation. Some of those who went out showed some mild symptoms of ARS (Acute Radiation Sickness) but were taking to the infirmary for treatment as soon as we got out of decontamination.
I’m trying to get some rest now, but its hard to sleep with the knowledge I have now got turning in my mind. I had to give a debrief to the brass soon, it looks like we’re going to plan b, whatever plan b is…
18th August, 1988
Man, I’m so sick of this weak coffee, it’s like drinking dirty sock water. I guess I shouldn’t complain but hell, if I have to force anymore of this muck down my throat I might just crack. The stock piles of rations in here are enough to sustain the 300 or so personnel in here for a while, most of the stuff has been sitting here for years though and I’m pretty sure some of it is past its use-by date.
Some of the people in here are starting to lose their cool, despite the size of the facility, cabin fever is setting in. I had a run in with the Army Signals Corp Captain stationed here yesterday. Nothing like a little xenophobia to get the pulse racing. At this point I should probably explain…
You see I’m Russian, well, born in the US but I have a Russian name. My parents were defectors and risked their lives to get out of the USSR back in 1961. My father was a high ranking official in the KGB who turned and started supplying information to the CIA, This is right around the time of the Cuban missile crisis, Bay of Pigs Invasion and all that stuff. For those of you without any intact history textbooks, basically that was the closest we ever had gotten to nuclear war… til now of course. So it was a pretty big deal back then. You don’t for a minute think the US Government knew all that stuff just with a few spy planes did you? There was a large network of Soviet agents working for the CIA, they were doing the same to us of course, but my dad was one of those double agents. The KGB were really good at sniffing out double agents though, I mean really good, a turn over rate at least twice that of ours at that time. So, the fact he got burned eventually was really bound to happen. He knew it and had an exit strategy already in place, just like any good spook, always one step ahead. So my parents got smuggled through Berlin just before the wall went up in August of that year and were hustled to DC. Kept under lock and key for a few months, interrogated and eventually allowed to settle. My father, being the man he was, felt he owed something to the US government, and volunteered his services to the company. He became a source of very reliable info for the CIA over the few years that followed. Anyway, I came along a short while later and we became a typical American family. I grew up in DC, surrounded by politics, hearing how bad and evil the Soviets were, the Red Threat, and I got a lot of flak growing up, through school and the rest of it. A Russian name in the heart of America in the middle of the Cold War – well I won’t degrade my memoirs by mentioning all those things I was called. I remember in 1976 going to Philadelphia to watch the Flyers play against the Soviet Red Army Team in the Super Series. The Soviet team came over for a tour, wiped the floor with every team they played against here in the States and the Flyers were ready. Beat the Reds into submission with extremely physical play that was probably a little over the edge, but what I remember most was the crowd. The hatred, you could feel it. I was 14 and I prayed that no one heard my dad talk, or heard his accent. I was scared the crowd would’ve torn us apart if they figured him for a “dangerous Commie”.
Despite my experiences growing up, I felt determined to prove myself constantly; I figured the best way was to join the Army. I don’t know if it was fate or someone higher up pulling the strings but after basic training I was funnelled into intelligence and eventually recruited by the CIA. At this point the Soviets had just invaded Afghanistan, and the US government wanted to help the rebels who were fighting the Soviet backed Communist government there. I volunteered right away, I guess I wanted to show them that being Russian doesn’t automatically mean being a Commie. I guess they saw something in me because I was hustled through advanced training, and eventually deployed there in ’85 – I was the youngest field agent there.
Some of the people in here are starting to lose their cool, despite the size of the facility, cabin fever is setting in. I had a run in with the Army Signals Corp Captain stationed here yesterday. Nothing like a little xenophobia to get the pulse racing. At this point I should probably explain…
You see I’m Russian, well, born in the US but I have a Russian name. My parents were defectors and risked their lives to get out of the USSR back in 1961. My father was a high ranking official in the KGB who turned and started supplying information to the CIA, This is right around the time of the Cuban missile crisis, Bay of Pigs Invasion and all that stuff. For those of you without any intact history textbooks, basically that was the closest we ever had gotten to nuclear war… til now of course. So it was a pretty big deal back then. You don’t for a minute think the US Government knew all that stuff just with a few spy planes did you? There was a large network of Soviet agents working for the CIA, they were doing the same to us of course, but my dad was one of those double agents. The KGB were really good at sniffing out double agents though, I mean really good, a turn over rate at least twice that of ours at that time. So, the fact he got burned eventually was really bound to happen. He knew it and had an exit strategy already in place, just like any good spook, always one step ahead. So my parents got smuggled through Berlin just before the wall went up in August of that year and were hustled to DC. Kept under lock and key for a few months, interrogated and eventually allowed to settle. My father, being the man he was, felt he owed something to the US government, and volunteered his services to the company. He became a source of very reliable info for the CIA over the few years that followed. Anyway, I came along a short while later and we became a typical American family. I grew up in DC, surrounded by politics, hearing how bad and evil the Soviets were, the Red Threat, and I got a lot of flak growing up, through school and the rest of it. A Russian name in the heart of America in the middle of the Cold War – well I won’t degrade my memoirs by mentioning all those things I was called. I remember in 1976 going to Philadelphia to watch the Flyers play against the Soviet Red Army Team in the Super Series. The Soviet team came over for a tour, wiped the floor with every team they played against here in the States and the Flyers were ready. Beat the Reds into submission with extremely physical play that was probably a little over the edge, but what I remember most was the crowd. The hatred, you could feel it. I was 14 and I prayed that no one heard my dad talk, or heard his accent. I was scared the crowd would’ve torn us apart if they figured him for a “dangerous Commie”.
Despite my experiences growing up, I felt determined to prove myself constantly; I figured the best way was to join the Army. I don’t know if it was fate or someone higher up pulling the strings but after basic training I was funnelled into intelligence and eventually recruited by the CIA. At this point the Soviets had just invaded Afghanistan, and the US government wanted to help the rebels who were fighting the Soviet backed Communist government there. I volunteered right away, I guess I wanted to show them that being Russian doesn’t automatically mean being a Commie. I guess they saw something in me because I was hustled through advanced training, and eventually deployed there in ’85 – I was the youngest field agent there.
Now I’m trapped in this cave with a red blooded Southerner Army Captain who thinks I’m one of “them”. One of them who did this to our country. I guess it’s time to prove myself all over again. Right now I’m just trying to keep this place in one piece, our air and water filtration system is starting to back up, luckily they are really simple in design – intentionally made that way so that anybody can maintain them with a little bit of training.
Down to my last few smokes as well… going to volunteer myself for an expeditionary group as soon as the chance comes up, I can’t stay cooped up like this forever. I’m going to start taking inventory of supplies around here, I know DC is going to send us some kind of order at some point, may as well be prepared for it…
Down to my last few smokes as well… going to volunteer myself for an expeditionary group as soon as the chance comes up, I can’t stay cooped up like this forever. I’m going to start taking inventory of supplies around here, I know DC is going to send us some kind of order at some point, may as well be prepared for it…
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