Herb writes:

In April, 1958, I was assigned to 865th AC&W Squadron, Las Vegas AFS, directly out of Keesler as an A/2C 30332C. I had no idea where Las Vegas AFS was, but Greyhound had a bus to Nellis AFB. Luckily, there was a daily courier from the 865th. And that is how I was introduced to the Studebaker 2 1/2 ton 6x6. It was about a 50 mile road trip, and took well over an hour as the driver had to shift down to 3rd, and then to 2nd, as we climbed up to what I learned was called Angels Peak. Even in April, there was snow on the ground at 9000 feet. Quite a change from the 80+ degrees down in the valley. So there I was, "home" at last in the shadow of Mt. Charleston. All in all, it turned out to be pretty good duty.

All the radar equipment and Operations were located on top of the hill, while the living quarters, chow hall, supply, orderly room, motor pool, etc, were several hundred feet down the hill. They were just getting started with the conversion of the FPS-3A to an FPS-20A. That summer, a Bendix field service engineer taught a several week course on the -20A. I wish I could remember his name, he was just outstanding. Right after that course, several of us took (and passed) the 30352 exam. In addition to the -20A we had an FPS-6. It was listed on the "books" as an MPS-14, but as far as we could discover, it had been completely converted. We had the usual complement of OA-99 PPI and RHI displays, along with a lone UPA-35.

All power for the site was generated locally, Some bean counter decided we could save money by having a mix of generators, some GMC and some Cummins. One brand used #1 diesel fuel and the other used #2, so we had to stock both kinds. Contract civilians took care of the generators. One day I was on duty in the "20tower" as we called it. The lights dimmed, the HV breakers tripped, and the antenna shut down. Not understanding what happened, and hearing several diesels still running, I restored power to the antenna. The whole tower vibrated and the diesels outside blared like a dozen trucks going up a steep hill. I shut down the antenna and peace was restored. The generators were only about 30 feet away so I went over to investigate. Turns out they had a mix of generators supplying tech power and one of the day tanks ran dry. Good thing it wasn`t GI`s running them, someone would have lost a stripe.

The site got its water from an artesian well a few miles away. It flowed by gravity to our site, where we stored it in a tank. The tank had a float valve to keep it full. That prevented wasting water in the summer. In the winter of `58-`59 someone forgot to disable the float mechanism. The water line froze solid. A contractor from Vegas was hired to thaw it out. How do you do that? Well, he brought up a cutting torch and a big arc welder. He started from the artesian well and cut a hole in the pipe about 75-100 feet away. Then he hooked up the arc welder electrodes to each end and ran current through the pipe until it was thawed. Then he moved down another section and repeated the process. He would then go back and patch the hole closest to the well, always leaving one hole open so the running water wouldn`t freeze. It took a couple of weeks to work his to the tank. In the meantime, we received a semi tanker of water from Nellis AFB every day or so, weather permitting. What was worse was that all of our barracks were heated by diesel fuel fired burners. Sometimes when you buy diesel fuel from the lowest bidder, it has water in it. Water freezes. So, we went without heat for a few days while that problem was solved.

One evening, "Mac" and I were on duty, and we needed something from the FPS-6 tower. While we were there, we took a quick look around to make sure all was well. Mac noticed a tube shield on top of the modulator cabinet. He looked inside the cabinet and located a tube right in front that was missing its shield. I don`t recall whether we discussed it or not, but he picked up the shield and reached into the cabinet to replace it. Neither of us was aware of the fact that the HV bleeder resistors were mounted under the top. We probably learned it at Keesler, but they were out of sight and therefore out of mind. Well Mac was kneeling in front of the cabinet. The steel tower floor was covered in a rubber mat about 1/4 inch thick. Mac either brushed up against one of the bleeders, or his hand came close enough for an arc to form. Anyway, the current went through his body and out his knee. There was a very tiny hole burned in the mat, and of course, the radar shut down due to the overload. Mac survived with no ill effects, but I`m not sure which one of us was scared the most. A moments inattention almost resulted in disaster.

That wasn`t the only adventure with the FPS-6. In the winter or spring of `59 we were notified of the possibility of cracks forming in the antenna. We looked and sure enough, we had some. We monitored them for awhile and come summertime someone made the decision to replace the antenna. It took all day to bring a crane up from Las Vegas and get it set up. The next day, we lifted off the old antenna and replaced it with the new one. I don`t remember it being all that easy, I think it took us all day. Later that summer, construction started on the new building to hold the SAGE equipment, not too far from the FPS-6 tower. The contractor had a crane on site, I don`t remember why. Standard procedure in the construction industry is to leave cranes raised at the end of the day, often they hoist their toolboxes up in the air for security. They didn`t need any extra secutity here, but in any case they not only left the boom raised, but it was also free to rotate. It was pretty windy there, like most hilltop radar sites, and eventually the wind blew the crane around until it was touching the 6 tower. Of course it was dark by this time and no one noticed. Eventually, around midnight, operations swung the FPS-6 antenna around and it crashed into the crane; just bent it all out of shape. This time around, it took us only half a day to replace, and the crane was already on site. 1959 was a busy construction year. In addition to starting work on the SAGE building, a gymnasium was built on the main site and the conversion of the open barracks to dormitories was completed.

We were one of the few sites with an FPS-20 at 9000 feet. Air pressure was less than12 psi. We had a hard time pressurizing the waveguide to 20 psi. The air pumps would barely do it, and the vanes lasted only a few weeks. And the racket those pumps made! Eventually we compromised on 18 psi and had four air pumps on a manifold such that any pump, or pair of pumps, could be connected to either transmitter. In winter, except for the air pump noise, the 20 tower was the place to be. Those X-80 rectifiers glowing dull red gave off plenty of heat.

I always wondered why they put a radar site in the shadow of Mt. Charleston. It blocked out about 90 degrees of coverage. When they started construction on the new SAGE building they put a microswitch and a cam on the antenna to disable triggering when the antenna was pointing that way. So we lost another 90 degrees or so of coverage. I guess the coverage was enough, because `59 was also the year that the FAA started sending controllers up to our site. They really liked the UPA-35 and complained loudly when they had to use an OA-99.

December `59 I was transferred to 712 AC&W, Northeast Cape AFS, St. Lawrence Island, Alaska for a one year tour. After leaving the 712th, I was discharged, and went to work for the FAA, at the Los Angeles Air Route Traffic Control Center. After a few months there, I got a chance to return to Angels Peak on temporary duty when the FAA took over maintenance responsibility for the 865th`s FPS-20A. As if this coincidence wasn`t strange enough, in November `62, I went to Boron AFS on another temporary duty assignment. The FAA needed someone to look after the FPS-20 while regular staff was bringing the FPS-35 on line. Once that was completed, guess where the Boron FPS-20 was sent? Yep, it went to the 712th at Northeast Cape, Alaska. Weird!