Time to read: 14 minutes(s)

Author: Andrey Filimonov.

Sunday marked the 70th anniversary of the first atomic explosion on Novaya Zemlya. Between September 21, 1955, and October 24, 1990, 132 or 134 nuclear devices (sources vary) were tested on the archipelago's islands, with a combined yield 100 times greater than all the bombs dropped on World War II, including those dropped on Hiroshima and Nagasaki.

The apogee of the thermonuclear race was the explosion of the hydrogen "Tsar Bomba," tested on Novaya Zemlya in the fall of 1961 at an altitude of 4000 meters. The shock wave from the explosion circled the globe, and the surface beneath the epicenter melted, turning into a "lunar landscape." It became clear that the Soviet Union was capable of destroying all life on Earth in a matter of hours. This was announced by Nikita Khrushchev from the podium of the 22nd Congress of the CPSU, the closing of which coincided with the Tsar Bomba test.

The ever-increasing power of the explosions excited the imagination of those forging the "homeland's nuclear shield." In particular, underwater nuclear weapons tests off the coast of Novaya Zemlya were conducted to simulate the possibility of creating an artificial tsunami that would "wash away" the US coastline, along with New York, Washington, and other "decision-making centers." Khrushchev was very fond of this apocalyptic scenario, and Andrei Sakharov, on Party orders, worked on a thermonuclear torpedo project.

"After testing the "big" product (hydrogen bomb in 1961 - ed."I was concerned that there was no good launch vehicle for it (bombers don't count, they're easy to shoot down)—that is, in a military sense, our work was in vain. I decided that a large torpedo launched from a submarine could serve as such a launch vehicle. I fantasized about developing a ramjet nuclear-powered water-steam jet engine for such a torpedo. The target of the attack, from a distance of several hundred kilometers, would be enemy ports. "A war at sea is lost if the ports are destroyed—that's what the sailors assure us. The hull of such a torpedo could be made very strong; it wouldn't be vulnerable to mines and barrage nets. Of course, the destruction of ports—either by an above-water explosion of a 100-megaton torpedo "jumping" out of the water, or by an underwater explosion—would inevitably involve very high human losses," wrote Andrei Sakharov in his memoirs. In his own words, he soon became ashamed of the “cannibalistic” nature of his research.

"The new land will be a no-go zone."

Novaya Zemlya was "spotted" by the authorities as an ideal nuclear testing site shortly after the first nuclear weapons tests in Semipalatinsk and the Astrakhan region. Everyone involved understood that the power of the devices being tested would increase, and the risk of radioactive contamination of the surrounding areas could not be ignored.

In order to conduct the nuclear war simulation on Novaya Zemlya without interference, the civilian population had to be evicted. This task was made easier by the fact that this population was very small—about 400 Nenets hunters and their families.

In 1954, they were gathered in a special settlement with the telling name of Lagernoye. This was not a deportation in the classic Stalinist sense, as the Nenets were not the indigenous population of Edei-Ya—the Nenets name for the archipelago.

They migrated here from the mainland in the second half of the 19th century. Previously, no one had lived here permanently. Pomors, Normans, Samoyeds, explorers, whalers, merchants, free poachers, and the Tsar's people established temporary trading posts and repair and supply depots on these shores. But no one considered wintering on Novaya Zemlya until 1867, when the family of Samoyed (Nenets) Foma Vylka built a house near Belushya Bay from the remains of abandoned Pomor huts.

In 1886, Tyko Vylka, a renowned Nenets artist and friend of Mikhail Kalinin himself, was born here. Kalinin allegedly told him, "You are the president of Soviet Russia, and I am the president of Novaya Zemlya." After this, Tyko Vylka acquired the nickname "President."

The Vylka family provided valuable services to both the tsarist and Soviet authorities. By resettling Foma and other Nenets colonists to the archipelago, the Russian government, in a territorial dispute with Norway, defended its right to Novaya Zemlya as a place of residence for subjects of the Russian Empire.

Tyko Vylka was instrumental in helping the Soviet government in 1954, convincing his fellow tribesmen to return "to the mainland" when Moscow decided to build a nuclear test site on the archipelago.

"Now we'll all go to the Maine. There won't be any hunters on Novaya Zemlya. Novaya Zemlya will be a no-go zone. Where would you like to go? Which region in the Nenets Autonomous Okrug should we go to? We'll be resettled from June 15th to July 15th. By that time, everyone should decide where to go," the "president" wrote to his relatives.

He enjoyed authority among Novaya Zemlya hunters and helped the authorities gather his people in Lagerny, from where they were transported to the mainland. As a reward for his assistance, Tyko Vylka received an apartment in the "regional committee building" in central Arkhangelsk.

Atomic Fifties

While the Nenets were being deported, construction work was underway on the archipelago. The settlement of Belushya Guba was built, followed later by a second settlement, Rogachevo, with a secret airfield officially called Amderma-2 (the real Amderma was located 400 kilometers away on the mainland). Roads were laid to the nuclear test sites, and some civilian infrastructure was created—dormitories, stores, a school, a boiler house, and a water pump. At first glance, it looked like a typical Soviet settlement in the Far North, if you don't count the "mushroom clouds" that regularly appeared on the horizon.

In the late 1950s, a series of underwater nuclear explosions were conducted off the coast of the archipelago. In the fall of 1957, in Chernaya Bay, then known as the "USSR Ministry of Defense's Naval Scientific Test Site," ten unmanned warships and submarines were moored at various distances from the intended epicenter. A tugboat was stationed nearby to tow the damaged vessels to shallow waters after the explosion.

Early in the morning, the submarine launched a torpedo with a nuclear warhead, detonating at a depth of 35 meters. A giant "tree," resembling a cypress, rose above the water, accompanied by thunderous peals of sound. When the waves subsided, the tugboat crew received the order to enter the waters.

Petty Officer Sergei Shuvalov, who served on the tug, recalls that "the scene before us was depressing and horrific. Some of the ships had sunk immediately, while others, sunk by the explosion, were a pitiful sight. Some were missing masts, their superstructures were destroyed, their hulls were damaged—the extent of the damage depended on the ship's mooring location. Our tugboat approached the nearest ship on its starboard side. It was the destroyer Gremyashchy; it had taken on a significant amount of water, trimming by the bow and listing to port. The tugboat commander gave the order to board the buoy and cast off the mooring lines, calling my name. I quickly jumped over the side onto the buoy, unhooked the line holding the ship, and jumped back onto the tugboat's deck. Six hours later, we towed the ship to shallow water and grounded it. I still have the certificate I was subsequently awarded."

Military personnel who participated in nuclear tests share their memories on the Novaya Zemlya forum. The forum's participants are extremely patriotic. As the old joke goes, they approve of any decision made by any Soviet government. They recall how, during the Cuban Missile Crisis of 1963, almost everyone wrote "reports expressing a desire to go to Cuba to help the Cuban people resist American expansion."

Hydrogen Sixties

In the early 1960s, the test site experienced its peak activity—after the Soviet Union unilaterally lifted its moratorium on nuclear weapons testing, dozens of nuclear explosions, ranging from small to multi-megaton, were conducted there. During the most powerful tests, soldiers were sheltered in protective structures or on ships at sea.

"On September 10, 1961, a 2700-kiloton airburst was detonated to test a nuclear weapon. The bomb was delivered by a carrier aircraft. We retreated to a safe location on the destroyer while it was being tested. We battened down the hatches and portholes in anticipation of the explosion. But we were young (I was 22) and curious. Those who didn't have protective sunglasses used smoked glass. Around 9:00 a.m., we saw a fireball over the battlefield. A bright flash and a beam of light lasted for several seconds. The fireball, growing in size, rose upward, forming a mushroom-shaped head. Then the shock wave reached us and began hissing through the tightly sealed portholes. There was no fear, but it still felt a little uneasy." Talgat Ayupov, "I served at the Arctic nuclear test site."

Protective measures were primitive and mostly limited to dousing with water after an explosion. "Radiation levels were often higher than acceptable, but due to our youth, we didn't think about the consequences. Everything was seen as part of our service, a contribution to the 'nuclear shield of the Motherland,'" recalls one forum participant.

In winter (October to May), the winds blowing across the archipelago are called "variants" in Novaya Zemlya military slang: "Vyuga-3" (relatively light), "Vyuga-2," and "Vyuga-1" (over 45 meters per second). During the third "blizzard," solo movement is prohibited, stores and schools are closed, and "survivability posts" are deployed at military bases. A powerful blast of icy air easily sweeps people who don't observe safety regulations into the tundra. Veterans of Novaya Zemlya recall instances where someone would go out to take out the trash near their home in January, only to find it many kilometers away in June.

Soldiers emerged from their barracks with a mask to protect their faces from the strong winds and snowstorms. It resembled a welder's mask, but was made of plywood with a window for inserting plexiglass and a handle on the side. Someone coined the term "television" long before real television appeared on Novaya Zemlya. When the glow of a nuclear explosion reached the village, the people holding these "televisions" looked like characters from a dystopian science fiction novel.

Aside from the nuclear explosions, the Novaya Zemlya residents lived a normal Soviet life, one that always had room for heroism. The year after the spectacular Tsar Bomba test in the village of Belushya Guba, the diesel generator broke down in the winter, and the heating system froze. It was -30 degrees Celsius outside, with winds reaching 50 m/s. Women and children were evacuated to Rogachevo, while soldiers and officers spent almost a month digging out pipes torn by frozen water to replace them. Meanwhile, they slept in fur sacks. According to their recollections, it was "more terrible than a nuclear war."

Thermonuclear stagnation

Under Brezhnev, nuclear weapons testing on Novaya Zemlya continued successfully, accompanied by talk of disarmament and "détente." The era of "stagnation" was a time of jokes, and the humorous tone even seeped into secret projects. For example, meetings of MSM (Ministry of Medium Machine Building) specialists overseeing nuclear weapons were held on Novaya Zemlya under the code name "April Theses."

Before the latest nuclear test, an expedition from Moscow arrived at Novaya Zemlya. Up to two hundred MSM specialists lived on the so-called "white ship": a Northern Shipping Company passenger ship that normally made cruises from Arkhangelsk to the Solovetsky Islands. It is unknown whether radiation levels were checked before the cruise.

Test specialists installed equipment in the adits, assembled measuring circuits, and recorded post-detonation data. The adit prepared for the tests resembled an unfinished subway station. Those entering this portal found themselves in a fantastical space. The ice-covered walls sparkled in the lantern light. A rail line extended into the depths, carrying electric trains delivering the nuclear charge and a team of "deployers" to the detonation site. At the moment of detonation, according to test participants, the hill rose and shook off the snow, and the ground beneath their feet became fluid and shifting, like a swamp.

During another test in 1984, a partial "camouflage" occurred: so-called noble gases—xenon and krypton—emitted to the surface. They rarely undergo chemical reactions and do not bind to soil or water, so they easily disperse in the atmosphere. Noble gases are considered the primary indicator gases in international monitoring systems. In 2013, North Korea conducted a secret underground nuclear test, and only the detection of radioactive xenon in the air revealed the existence of a nuclear explosion.

Living conditions on Novaya Zemlya in the 1970s and 1980s remained just as harsh. The diesel engine constantly malfunctioned, and the temperature in the "living quarters" dropped to -20 to -25 degrees Celsius. The cold burst water jugs in the assembly hall, and the red cloth froze to the conference table beneath Lenin's portrait, clad in a thick layer of frost.

At the same time, people ate well on Novaya Zemlya, mostly on scarce items. In the village store No. 1 (like in Yeliseyevsky), there were barrels of black and red caviar, and the shelves were lined with canned goods: crab, salmon, stellate sturgeon, cod liver, sprats, stewed meat, condensed milk, and other "delicacies" that Soviet people dreamed of.

Perestroika on the march, or the nuclear shield in the shit

Mikhail Gorbachev, unlike his predecessors as General Secretaries, was genuinely peace-loving and worked toward a complete ban on nuclear testing in the Soviet Union. Residents of secret cities and nuclear test sites felt the impact firsthand; supplies deteriorated, and infrastructure deteriorated. The last "nuclear winter" on Novaya Zemlya was marked by dramatic events.

In January 1990, the village of Belushya Guba was left without water. A fire broke out at the water pumping station and, unable to be extinguished due to a snowstorm, resulted in pumps and cables falling through the ice. Within just a few hours, the four-kilometer water pipeline froze completely. The lives of thousands of people were at risk.

At first, people tried to melt the snow. But at room temperature, it turned into a murky sludge filled with soot and debris. The garrison radio urged people not to drain the heating system. However, no one wanted to die of thirst, so they drank rusty water from the radiators, the pressure dropped, and the heating system began to cool. Electric heaters were turned on in apartments, which knocked out the substations, which couldn't handle the load.

When the snowstorm died down a bit, water trucks from Rogachev made their way into the village. The scene was reminiscent of Leningrad during the siege: people stood in the freezing cold with pots, buckets, and cans. But a strong wind blew away the stream of water pouring from the tank, and not everyone in line managed to fill their containers. Instead, a crust of ice formed on their faces. When the water truck left, word spread that water would be distributed elsewhere, and people rushed there. A bucket of clean water was considered a luxury in those days.

Living conditions turned into a communal hell. The sewer pipes in most houses froze, and wooden toilets appeared on the streets. However, the wind toppled these rickety structures, with all the ensuing consequences. Potbelly stoves were installed for heating, and windows bristled with smoky chimneys. By the end of February, normal life was more or less restored thanks to aid from the mainland. But frozen shit remained on the village streets and on the facades of houses until the end of spring.

In October of that year, an international incident occurred when a Greenpeace vessel broke through to Novaya Zemlya. It was pursued by a border guard ship named the "XXVI Congress of the CPSU."

It's unlikely that the Soviet military command was unaware that Greenpeace was a peaceful non-governmental organization. Nevertheless, a "combat alert" was declared in the Novaya Zemlya barracks.

The military unit's personnel were lined up on the parade ground and given a "combat mission"—to protect a four-kilometer cable route from the command post to the test site from Greenpeace activists.

"Not quite sure who would be encroaching on it, with what forces, and with what weapons, they asked from the ranks about our weapons," recalls one of the Novaya Zemlya soldiers. "Considering that at least 50% of the personnel had personal hunting rifles, it was suggested that we use them for their intended purpose. The response was a categorical prohibition. To the next, rather logical question: 'Then how are we supposed to defend the cable route?', came the clear military answer: 'With our butts!' And with that, we parted ways to carry out our assigned task."

Meanwhile, the valiant "26th Congress of the CPSU" attempted to board the Greenpeace, but nearly rammed it. Greenpeace launched the inflatable sloop Evans 21 with a group of several people, who reached Novaya Zemlya in the southern part of Matochkin Strait. A border guard helicopter hunted the group for almost a day. However, the environmentalists managed to inspect the testing ground near the Severnaya base, measure radiation, and take photographs.

"At 2:30 p.m., the helicopter hovered again, and we tried to hide behind rocks, then moved up the riverbed in a last attempt to hide from the helicopter. At 3:00 p.m., the helicopter spotted us and landed nearby. Fifteen officers emerged. Unarmed. They took us to the base, where we were presented at the officers' meeting. The interrogation was polite, but they kept trying to find out: why were we up there? They told us, 'We control this mountain.' Then they asked, 'Did we leave any equipment on this mountain?' We finally had lunch with a general, who uncorked some cognac for us. We got the impression the military was fed up with the nuclear tests at the Severnaya base," recalls a participant from the Netherlands.

All participants of the Greenpeace expedition were detained and spent three days under arrest until a telegram arrived from Gorbachev ordering the release of the environmentalists.

The soldiers at Belushya Bay were told they were "fighting" not peaceful Greenpeace activists, but "CIA operatives." The planned tests were demonstratively carried out on October 24, 1990.

This explosion turned out to be the last one. For now.