An ancient bunch of ex-pats and prodigal sons, hidden in the caves deep in the bowels of the planet, ticking away the dark millennia. They take the occasional pot-shot to relieve the monotony.
You had to be there to understand how unbelievably foul the atmosphere can be in a concrete box 15 feet underground after a night of smoking and drinking. The ventilator of course had to be closed otherwise it was too cold to roll the Risk dice.
That the designers thought the place could be manned on a 24 hour basis without any toilet facilities I think reflects what our leaders thought of the troops in the 50's when it was built. Our neighbour's hedge grew well.
We were expected to measure the various glows in the sky as Europe's largest concentration of nuclear weapons went up in smoke, along with our homes and families.
Safe and secure in our little bunker at the head of a remote Scottish loch, we would have constituted the majority of the Argyllshire population after Armageddon.