Who You Gonna Call?

In the early 1960s the world felt like a much more dangerous place than it does today. That is probably not the case in reality (what with the spread of Covid-19, the rise of religious fanaticism, the perils of global warming); but there were several tense months in 1962 when the Cold War posturing of  those ideologically opposed super-powers, the USA and the USSR, threatened to escalate into a devastating military showdown after Soviet missiles were installed on Cuba within striking distance of American cities.

Eventually Kennedy and Khruschev found the way to defuse the stand-off and the world stepped back from the brink of nuclear war. However, diplomatic exchanges between the two sides had proved hit-and-miss, both unpredictable and subject to delay, so much so that events on the ground had nearly escalated out of control of the negotiators. 

Shortly afterwards therefore, in 1963, a direct and secure 'emergency telecommunication link' was established between Washington and Moscow (actually between the Pentagon and Communist Party HQ), theoretically enabling the leaders of the two world powers to communicate directly should a critical need arise again. It was dubbed the cold war hotline and in the popular imagination consisted of red telephones with flashing buttons.

Apocryphal Red Telephone

In fact, in those relatively unsophisticated years over half a century ago, it was a simple teletype link that was established, for conveying text messages, not voice. There were teleprinters at each location, no red telephones and no flashing emergency lights. But since when has the imaginarium let simple facts get in the way of a good flight of fancy?

Suppose, then, that red telephones had existed at either end of a hotline linking the official residences of Kennedy and Khruschev back in 1962 - who might have called whom and what might they have had to say? I know I forsook narrative poetry for a while just a few weeks ago, but the muse is a contrary mistress, and so here narrative returns in a new piece heavy with dialogue.

Cold War Hot Line

At the appointed hour a button blinks

soundless but insistent on a red phone

in a dark room, a sanctum of power.

"The kite of truth flutters in the breeze of hope..."

There follows a momentary transatlantic hiatus.

"...and the bear cub dances with a donut in its paws."

"Jacqueline Lee is that you?"

"Yes it is. Nina Petrovna?"

"The same. How are you my dear?"

"Pregnant again and worried for the world."

"I give thanks that my babies are all grown,

flown from the nest as we say."

"You are so lucky. I hope mine will live

to do the same one day. I'm not so sure."

"We have been through wars enough.

We need no more bloodshed or sorrow." 

"But our husbands are both military men

and tomorrow the missiles might fly."

"Jacqueline Lee, I will tell you a secret. 

Nikita and I have lived together 

all these years and had three children

but we never married. Are you shocked?"

"I am. I know that in Russia you have

banished God, but to live in sin?"

"Every sandpiper praises his own swamp.

And the Marilyn Monroe problem?"

"She died. The poor woman committed suicide."

"Ah yes. That is how we do it in Mother Russia.

"Jacqueline Lee, I will speak plainly...

Time is short. The hands on the doomsday clock

twitch relentless on. You and I need to prevail

on Nikita and John to abort this madness.

I know I can do it. Do you have the president's ear?"

"I've never tried to intercede before. These are

weighty matters, Nina Petrovna, and I am

after all just a woman and a wife, not versed

in politics and statecraft, unlike yourself."

"My child, you are First Lady of the USA,

the greatest nation on Earth. That is your worth."

"What then should I do?"

"Exhort your husband, as he loves his wife,

his children and his country, to speak with Nikita,

to offer the olive branch of peace in return

for suitable concessions, a backing off

with no loss of face to either side. Ask him

to step up as statesman onto the world's stage

and orchestrate a way out of this madness.

I give you my word that Russia will comply."

"And then? If Jack decides to act on what I say?"

"They will negotiate, they will agree a solution,

they will take the credit, but we shall have peace."

"If we are successful, is that how it will be?"

"It is, Jacqueline Lee. Good night, stay strong."

"Good-bye, Nina Petrovna. May God bless you."

The line goes quiet. The world turns uncertain.

It is one minute to midnight.

Thanks for reading. Promote peace, stay safe, S ;-)