Robert Ratcliffe

I am a native of Seattle, Washington, but spent my youth in Southern California, having moved to the San Fernando Valley in 1958. At that time, the west end of the Valley was considered country living. By 1968, when I left for college, the change due to rapid growth was astounding. Housing developments expanded in all directions, and the smog was so bad it literally made people throw-up during high school football practice in the summer heat. I can attest to how more rigid air quality standards have improved the health of Southern Californians, and how you can actually see the surrounding mountains on many, if not most, days now. My educational background is mainly science, math, and engineering. I graduated from high school in Chatsworth, California, in February of 1968. The Los Angeles City School system had an A and B track system (A12, B12, etc.) that produced midyear graduates. Before I went off to college, I worked full time as a letter carrier at the US Post Office in Chatsworth. It was a great job for a recent high school graduate. The highlight of my time in the field was delivering mail to the Spahn Movie Ranch in the hills beyond Chatsworth, California, where the Charles Mansion family lived before committing the Sharon Tate murders. Although I only filled in on that particular route twice, I remember the folks who came to the mail box by the road as being very pleasant and friendly—just your average counter-culture types in 1968. Old man Spahn was blind, and they supposedly took care of him. I believe they murdered one man who was passing through and had stayed with them for a few days at the ranch. I attended the University of California at Santa Barbara starting in the fall of 1968. In college, I was a reluctant engineering major. I had done well in high school in all the sciences and math, so engineering seemed to be the logical choice. I picked nuclear engineering as a major—it was different from anything I had studied and sounded interesting. The first two years of engineering classes at UCSB were the same for all in those days--year three was when you specialized. The competition in the School of Engineering was brutal. I remember only one woman out of hundreds of engineering students during my tenure. This was still the days of slide rules and pocket mechanical pencil holders. I managed to get by with less than stellar grades, but my interests seemed to lie elsewhere. Sophomore year was a turning point in my education. I discovered that I loved to read. While I was squeaking by in my math and physics classes, I began to read philosophy and audit US history classes for fun. The real action and the challenge to my academic studies began in early 1970 when the US marched into Cambodia and all hell broke loose on college campuses across the nation. At UCSB, we had three separate riots that spring. The first featured the burning of the local Bank of America. A couple of lame attempts to start a fire failed. Later, a smaller group who knew what they were doing filled a dumpster with broken furniture and anything that would burn, doused it with gasoline, lit it, and shoved the dumpster through the glass doors. It what seemed a short time, the entire building was engulfed in a blaze, flames shooting 100 feet high into the night sky. The building was a steel-framed stone structure with the standard office building amount of wood, carpet, drapes, and equipment. However, you get a high enough temperature and almost anything burns. I remember returning to the site the next morning and the only thing left was the vault and twisted metal beams—the fire had been that hot. The second round of protests brought the tragic death of an innocent young man who was trying to douse a fire at the temporary Bank of America, a trailer complex (the bank people weren’t going to be run out of town by a bunch of rowdy college kids) on the original site. The police had been called and they arrived in cars and stake bed trucks, and as they piled out a sniper rifle accidently discharged, or that was the story. What idiot has a round chambered and the safety off when jumping out of a truck? I still believe the student was shot intentionally. Round three, the knockout round, brought in police and law enforcement from all over the state. Then Governor Ronald Reagan made it clear that enough was enough. This must all sound bizarre to young people today, but the spring of 1970 was a wild time on college campuses. I was teargased, saw outsiders whip up the locals to do crazy things beyond the general discontent, and witnessed poorly trained and led law enforcements officers take many stupid actions. Dozens of innocent students were dragged from buildings, others pepper sprayed and beaten, but in the end, no one, to my knowledge, was ever charged with anything—it was a tough object lesson in the limits of civil obedience. After getting my engineering degree in four years and a failed attempt at gaining entrance to medical school (a fifth year of classes to get the required pre-requisites) came the United States Navy. While UCSB had a small army ROTC program, I believe I was the only student that year that joined the navy. I remember trying to track down the recruiters on campus. They were hidden in the rear of and old WWII building—no high profile table on the quad in those days. The two officers were surprised to see me and couldn’t believe their luck as I was the only customer that day. I was shepherded toward the navy’s nuclear power program (obvious choice) and was flown back to Washington, D.C., to have an audience with the legendary Admiral Hyman Rickover. Probably one of the greatest naval officers of all time, Rickover literally created the nuclear navy himself and ruled over Naval Reactors with an iron fist. Stories abounded about how he abused Naval Academy midshipmen candidates for the program—putting them in closets, having them sit on a stool with uneven legs, egging them on until they made him mad. As I was a civilian, he just yelled at me, harping on my piss-poor undergraduate academic performance. When I finally admitted that the reason for my crappy grades was that I didn’t study enough, he told me to leave his office with a final outburst of contempt. I thought I was finished, but after cooling my heels in a waiting room for an hour, I was informed that the admiral had given me his blessing. The navy was the best thing that happened to me, both then and in later life. Then because it allowed a young man not sure what he wanted to do to drive ships, operate nuclear reactors, see the world, and work with great people from all walks of life. Later because it saved my bacon during the defense drawdown in the mid-nineties, that witnessed General Dynamics sell out to other companies and desert San Diego en masse—right sizing in the parlance of that time. I went to Officer Candidate School in Newport, RI, then on to nuclear power training in Vallejo, California, and Idaho Falls, Idaho. I did well in both, excelling in the hands-on world of machinery and electrical equipment in a real-live mockup of an aircraft carrier engine room. The navy agreed with me, despite being a longhaired kid who had graduated from UCSB. After a couple of additional schools, I was assigned to USS Bainbridge (CGN-25), a nuclear-powered, guided missile cruiser home ported in San Diego. I was assigned topside (not in the hole, engineering), first as the Fire Control Officer in charge of the division that maintained the ship’s four fire control radars. We carried the Standard Missile 2 Extended Range (SM2ER), follow-on to the original Terrier missile system. We also had an ASROC launcher and over-the-side torpedoes. Missing was any sort of gun. During a major overhaul, they decided that the ship should have something for self-defense and they added two 25mm guns amidships. Exposed to the elements and potential enemy fire, and sporting manual sights, we all doubted their effectiveness, which was repeatedly confirmed during gunnery practice at sea. The navy has since configured all current warships with adequate self-protection. You have to remember that this was back when the threat to the fleet was massed Soviet air attacks against the battle group by Bear and Backfire bombers carrying various flavors of anti-ship cruise missiles, not a swarm of fast patrol boats in the Arabian Gulf. I later became the Combat Information Center (CIC) officer, leading the division that stood watch in CIC underway. They operated radar repeaters, sat at NTDS (the computer-driven tracking system) consoles, and generally kept the place running. Although not assigned to the Engineering Department, I did qualify to stand watch on the two nuclear reactors that drove the ship, mostly in port when the plants were shut down or in hot standby. The nuclear cruiser concept eventually died; all the ships were decommissioned and not replaced. Nuclear propulsion was too costly for that size ship with its battle group escort function. It survives in carriers and submarines where the operational and tactical advantages justify the cost. After the navy, I attended business school at UCLA where I earned an MBA with an emphasis in finance and accounting. With ties to San Diego, I ended up in the aerospace business at General Dynamics Convair Division. I was in operations research and performed analyses on advanced ICBM concepts for the air force. It was on the mobile, small ICBM program that I learned the ins and outs of nuclear weapons effects, nuclear targeting, and strategic nuclear war concepts and theory. A highlight was a helicopter ride around the perimeter of the White Sands Missile Test Range, including a hover over the marker of Trinity Site, location of the first nuclear explosion for the US, which is only open one day a year to vehicles these days. I left General Dynamics for a short stint at a small defense-consulting firm working strategic communications for both the navy and air force. The air force work entailed running a sophisticated FORTRAN simulation model for Emergency Action Message (EAM) transmission in stressed environments called SIMSTAR. It was my introduction to VMS and IBM mainframes. It’s also where I used my first personal computer—an Apple II running CPM with 64K of RAM. In the day of 100 megabyte-plus operating systems, it is easy to forget those old machines worked perfectly well for word processing (WordStar) and spreadsheets (Lotus 123). When the company encountered financial difficulty, I returned to General Dynamics, this time with Space Systems Division. I lucked into a position on the Advanced Launch System (ALS) program for the air force. It was meant to be a next-generation launch vehicle that drastically cut costs and was a showcase for advanced technology in information systems. It was on this program that I learned about networking, databases, multi-level secure operating systems, and the latest in engineering workstations and mini-computers (mostly DEC’s VAX family). We actually linked our network with the air force’s network, which in 1989/1990 was a big deal. We did it with Macintosh computers and Cisco routers (double firewalls to boot for security). At the time, we were the only program in the Air Force Systems Command, and maybe all of DoD, that was attempting to link contractors directly with a program office to exchange data and share servers—it worked great. I should have bought a lot of Cisco stock at the time. When the ALS program was terminated, I switched to efforts toward winning the integration contract for the Strategic Defense Initiative (SDI). This was an opportunity to learn about all the types of ballistic missile defensive systems, both space-based sensors and ground-based interceptors. It was a tremendous learning experience. The problem was that General Dynamics led a team of superstars such as TRW and Lockheed, so that by the time all the players were given their share, GD would have only 18% of the final contract, even though they were the lead integrator. In the end, GD lost to the Boeing-led team. It mattered little since the massively complex proposed SDI had a short life, although parts survive to this day. My last position at GD Space Systems Division was in the Information Resource Management (IRM) organization. This was just before the sale of the division to Martin Marietta (not Lockheed Martin quite yet—that came later). This was, however, where I had my first encounter with Mosaic and the infant Web. It was also when fate struck with a positive outcome. When I had left active duty in the summer of 1979, I had stayed in the reserves. I drilled starting in early 1980, and in 1987 became part of Naval Special Warfare (Navy SEALs) Group ONE’s reserve unit, even though I was a surface warfare officer. I served in various NAVSPECWAR reserve units in San Diego, was mobilized for a short period during Desert Shield/Desert Storm, and was assigned to the Naval Special Warfare Command HQ reserve unit when I was let go from General Dynamics--I didn’t want to move to Denver as a Martin Marietta employee. As I was looking for a job in the San Diego area in early 1995, I managed to get short periods of active duty at the headquarters working resourcing issues. In August of 1995, I started what was to become a ten-year stretch of one year and six month orders, working the Program Objective Memorandum (POM), the then six-year defense plan (now five years) for Naval Special Warfare. Over the next few years, I was given the responsibility to work with senior officers at US Special Operations Command in Tampa on POM development, representing the command at joint meetings, and advising the Commander. I retired as a captain in 2005 with 30 years commissioned service (about eighteen active). I subsequently was hired as a civilian by the command to do the same job as Deputy N8, Resources, Requirements and Assessments. I worked as a civilian at the command for seven years, with my last two being assigned to the Pentagon. I retired in September of 2012 and moved to the mountains of North Carolina. Working at Naval Special Warfare Command in Coronado was the highlight of my working career. The Navy SEALs, the Combatant Craft Crewmen who drive the high performance boats, the supporting military folks from other specialties within the navy, and the civilian staff are the best the US military has to offer. I was honored to work with so many great people for so many years. Although not a SEAL myself, just some out-of-work reserve surface warfare commander who showed up on the doorstep one day, they made me one of their own, gave me tremendous responsibility, and provided me with incredible opportunities over seventeen years. I will always be grateful. I mentioned earlier that I like to read. After starting with philosophy in college, which I have to admit I really struggled to understand, I switched to European history. The highlight for me was Will and Aerial Durant’s The Story of Civilization (all eleven volumes). That accomplishment changed my intellectual life. A close second was Carl Sandburg’s multi-volume biography of Abraham Lincoln--the greatest American ever in my estimation. Obvious it took years to read all of those volumes, given the navy and subsequent jobs. Once I hit marriage and kids, the heavy reading took a hiatus. It wasn’t until 2002 or so that I began to read again in earnest. That’s when I picked up on physics (particle physics and cosmology) and began to read American history in earnest. I had always enjoyed Civil War and World War II books in my youth, but I started to appreciate the colonial period, the Revolutionary War, and just about everything after that in American history, including the War of 1812, the era of Jackson, the episodic financial panics, the industrial age, World War I, and the Great Depression. I am fascinated by what make us Americans—a truly unique people in my opinion. Since retirement, I have published two novels, Red Hammer 1994 and Daemon. I wrote the first version of Red Hammer in 1988/1989 when I was working Air Force next-generation strategic missile systems. This was the time when the neoconservatives in the Reagan administration (Casper Weinberger and company) were pushing the Strategic Defense Initiative (SDI) and talked about “winnable” nuclear war. As I became more knowledgeable about nuclear war strategies, strategic weapon systems, and nuclear weapons effects, I realized that such thinking was not only crazy but also dangerous. The US and the Soviets were going down an arms-race path that would destabilize the world by emphasizing first-strike weapons and huge numbers of missiles and warheads to overcome any defensive systems. The economic cost and the heightened risk of war would have been overwhelming for both parties. In 1989, I obtained an agent for my work, but with the Berlin Wall coming down and the breakup of the Soviet Union the market for techno-thrillers dried up. I then completely re-wrote the book to keep up with political events, but by the time I had another version in 1993, my life had gotten too busy so I put the book on the shelf. Once I retired from government service in September 2012, I decided to resurrect the project. I added material but decided to keep the timeframe of 1993/1994. My goal all along was to write an accurate (in terms of tactics, strategy, and likely timeline) book about nuclear war, specifically a bolt-from-the-blue surprise attack, and this timeframe worked. Little did I know that the current events in Ukraine eerily echo the cold war days of the late 1980s and early 1990s. In many ways, Russia has not changed in her attitude toward the West or in how she conducts her foreign policy. While many would completely discount any probability of a nuclear confrontation, (Fareed Zakaria recently stated in one of his columns that nuclear war was unimaginable these days) the weapons still exist, the war plans and target lists are still updated, and military forces on both sides still train and stand alert. Nuclear war may not be probable, but it is certainly possible. And current, ongoing nuclear disarmament talks are just as important as they were under President Reagan. As for Daemon, I wrote the first version of this book in 1995 and 1996 when I had just left General Dynamics. My last assignment was developing advanced information systems, which at the time included networking PCs and engineering workstations, integrating databases, and developing graphical user interfaces—mundane stuff these days. So much was new in the IT world back then that I wanted to write a book that combined state-of-the-art computer concepts, espionage, and special operations. I decided to update Daemon to the early 2016 timeframe. To my surprise, it was relatively easy. Despite twenty years passing, the core technologies hadn’t changed that much, just data transfer speeds and computing power, and much-improved software. However, the same security issues prevail today, if not more so. I did change the story—I probably rewrote over half the book—by introducing cyber warfare and changing some of the players. It has been very rewarding to refresh Daemon for today’s world of heightened cyber tension and cyber-attacks by major players. A recent return trip to Albuquerque ensured that I accurately captured the city and its environs. I strongly feel Daemon is more relevant today than it was twenty years ago when I wrote the first draft. An aside: When I first wrote Daemon in the early 1990s, I researched the title and could not find any other books with that title in print. To my chagrin shortly before publishing Daemon in 2015, I discovered that there are several books with that title recently published, one a best seller. I decided to keep that title for my book. After all, I had chosen it in 1994! I just wanted to let readers know that I did not purposefully cherry pick someone’s title. With these two projects under my belt, I’m moving on to the next. Although I’m sixty-five, I plan to keep writing for many years to come.