Luke LaManna

He heard the terrified screams of passengers, and there was nothing he could do. For the next six minutes, the plane fell through the darkness, spiraling down 35,000 feet and then crashing into the Sea of Japan. No one survived. What happened to flight 007 would soon trigger a chain of events, pushing the world to the brink of World War III.

From Ballant Studios in Wondery, I'm Luke LaManna, and this is Redacted Declassified Mysteries, where each week we shine a light on the shadowy corners of espionage, covert operations, and misinformation to reveal the dark secrets our governments try to hide. This episode is called The Man Who Stopped World War III.

From Ballant Studios in Wondery, I'm Luke LaManna, and this is Redacted Declassified Mysteries, where each week we shine a light on the shadowy corners of espionage, covert operations, and misinformation to reveal the dark secrets our governments try to hide. This episode is called The Man Who Stopped World War III.

In the early 1980s, the Cold War between the United States and Soviet Union had reached a fever pitch. Tensions between the two superpowers fueled an escalating arms race, aiming a total of 18,400 nuclear warheads at each other. America's president, Ronald Reagan, was a hardline anti-communist, openly referring to the Soviet Union as the Evil Empire. The Soviets were led by Yuri Andropov,

In the early 1980s, the Cold War between the United States and Soviet Union had reached a fever pitch. Tensions between the two superpowers fueled an escalating arms race, aiming a total of 18,400 nuclear warheads at each other. America's president, Ronald Reagan, was a hardline anti-communist, openly referring to the Soviet Union as the Evil Empire. The Soviets were led by Yuri Andropov,

a dedicated communist who harbored a deep distrust of the United States. And in this powder keg of a situation, the world was about to face a moment that could have turned the Cold War hot and possibly wiped out humanity with the push of a button. But one man would end up saving the planet from nuclear disaster.

a dedicated communist who harbored a deep distrust of the United States. And in this powder keg of a situation, the world was about to face a moment that could have turned the Cold War hot and possibly wiped out humanity with the push of a button. But one man would end up saving the planet from nuclear disaster.

He would do something unthinkable in military circles, ignore a direct order to launch weapons. He was a Russian officer named Stanislav Petrov. As a Marine, I can tell you that following orders is drilled into us from day one. It's more than protocol. It's a fundamental principle of military service.

He would do something unthinkable in military circles, ignore a direct order to launch weapons. He was a Russian officer named Stanislav Petrov. As a Marine, I can tell you that following orders is drilled into us from day one. It's more than protocol. It's a fundamental principle of military service.

So I can't even begin to imagine what it would have been like to have the responsibility of being ordered to launch nuclear missiles and then choosing not to follow that order. The weight of that decision, it's almost unfathomable.

So I can't even begin to imagine what it would have been like to have the responsibility of being ordered to launch nuclear missiles and then choosing not to follow that order. The weight of that decision, it's almost unfathomable.

But Petrov's act of defiance and the fact that the world came so close to nuclear annihilation remained top secret until the mid-1990s, when the collapse of the Soviet Union finally allowed the story to emerge. In early 1982, Stanislav Petrov walked down the long corridor of a top-secret Soviet military bunker. Petrov was a 43-year-old lieutenant colonel in the Soviet Air Defense Force.

But Petrov's act of defiance and the fact that the world came so close to nuclear annihilation remained top secret until the mid-1990s, when the collapse of the Soviet Union finally allowed the story to emerge. In early 1982, Stanislav Petrov walked down the long corridor of a top-secret Soviet military bunker. Petrov was a 43-year-old lieutenant colonel in the Soviet Air Defense Force.

The base, called Serpukhov 15, was located 80 miles south of Moscow. It was surrounded by barbed wire and guarded by hundreds of armed soldiers. Soldiers at Serpikov-15 used satellites to scan the globe for missile launches, particularly those from American soil. Petrov's crucial role was to oversee incoming satellite data.

The base, called Serpukhov 15, was located 80 miles south of Moscow. It was surrounded by barbed wire and guarded by hundreds of armed soldiers. Soldiers at Serpikov-15 used satellites to scan the globe for missile launches, particularly those from American soil. Petrov's crucial role was to oversee incoming satellite data.

Any potential missile sighting would trigger an urgent verification process. If an incoming missile was confirmed, the leaders at Serpukhov 15 would then decide whether to strike back. So far, Petrov was thankful that he had never had to make that decision. After punching in a security code, Petrov entered a dimly lit cavernous room.

Any potential missile sighting would trigger an urgent verification process. If an incoming missile was confirmed, the leaders at Serpukhov 15 would then decide whether to strike back. So far, Petrov was thankful that he had never had to make that decision. After punching in a security code, Petrov entered a dimly lit cavernous room.

A massive screen dominated the space, displaying grainy satellite images of Earth. Beneath it, rows of soldiers sat hunched over bulky computer monitors. Fluorescent light bounced off their faces. As Petrov walked into the control room, conversations quieted down, and all eyes turned to him. Petrov wasn't tall or imposing, but he commanded respect from his men.

A massive screen dominated the space, displaying grainy satellite images of Earth. Beneath it, rows of soldiers sat hunched over bulky computer monitors. Fluorescent light bounced off their faces. As Petrov walked into the control room, conversations quieted down, and all eyes turned to him. Petrov wasn't tall or imposing, but he commanded respect from his men.

He attributed this skill less to his military experience and more to his childhood days mediating disagreements on the soccer field. After graduating from an engineering technical college, Petrov joined the Soviet air defense system. He never had to fly planes, which was fine by him. He much preferred the emerging world of technology.