It’s the early 1960s. The Cuban missile crisis is still fresh in people’s minds. The Cold War is at its peak. A Soviet submarine has run aground on the New England coast. Locals in the closest town think it’s the start of a Soviet invasion of America. The panicking townsfolk – armed to the teeth with shotguns – are lined up on the dock facing an armed Soviet sub.

And the local sheriff stands between the two sides about to open fire. He pulls out his parking ticket pad, looks up at the sub commander and through a Russian sailor translating, says, “All right, let’s have your full name and address.”

The sub commander orders his deck gunners to prepare to fire. (more…)