Just Nuke It

I was an Air Force ICBM launch control officer in South Dakota. Two officers pulled 24-hour alerts in a launch control center that was surrounded by several Minuteman II silos.

The facility and the silos were separated by several miles. We were not allowed to leave the "capsule" until relieved the next day, and we were supported by several on-site personnel in the support building upstairs. The capsules were Spartan, but each boasted a small refrigerator and a small microwave.

On one tour of duty, the cook called down around lunch time and informed us that she was cleaning her oven and that hot food would be unavailable for a short time.

Later, around supper time, she called down again and apologized that she had dismantled her oven to clean it, was having trouble reassembling it, and would again be unable to heat our food orders. We were somewhat annoyed, but, being the kinder, gentler military officers we were, told her "No problem. Just send down the frozen meals and we’ll ’nuke’ them ourselves."

Several seconds of dead silence on the phone followed before she whispered, "You can DO that?"