Whilst continuing with our project to finally have a bedroom that it is possible to enjoy being in, I was listening to Radio 4. Highly recommended for entertainment whilst grouting tiles…

Todays offering was a programme called The human button.

It was all about the people whose job it is, either as politicians or members of the armed services, to potentially bring death to millions. They interviewed men who flew Vulcan bombers in the 1960’s, signing a receipt for their Blue Streak Nuclear missiles before take off. Unimaginable destruction in the hands of a 24 year old man.

But the most fascinating bit of all concerned a little known bit of British Armageddon etiquette, called ‘Letters of last resort’.

It seems that one of the first jobs each incoming Prime Minister is to be given instruction about the operation of Britain’s 4 Trident nuclear submarines- one of which is kept at sea at any one time, as a so-called ‘deterrent’ to any other nuclear power that should have itchy fingers over their own big red buttons.

And one of the things they have to do, is to write a letter, in their own handwriting, to each of the 4 submarine Captains. These ‘letters of last resort’ give final instruction to the Captains, should it’s line of command have been destroyed by a nuclear attack- in other words, if all of us (and our Prime Minister) are dead.

The options that the Prime Ministers have are;

1. Retaliate
2. Do not retaliate
3. Place yourself under the command of the USA or Australian Governments

Few Politicians have ever revealed what instructions their letter contained. The letters are destroyed, unopened, at the change of an administration. One Prime Minister however, Jim Callaghan, revealed that he would have retaliated. Another Labour politician, Dennis Healey suggested he would not have done, as at that point the primary purpose of a nuclear deterrent would already have failed.

I find it comforting and terrifying in equal measure that even this potential last act of the human race is so… human.

The shadow cast by the cold war passes by our house every couple of months as the black menacing shapes of the Trident submarines leave the Clyde and head out on their dreadful patrols.

If we have no politician who would stop this madness, let us at least hope for people whose last resort is not to rain down death on other people’s children.