Secret military facilities have always been the subject of rumors, yet even the local residents rarely knew anything for sure. Today, in the age of the internet and Google Earth satellite imagery, it’s harder to keep secrets—though truly important sites remain shrouded in mystery. The worn-out installations of the Cold War era, however, can now be easily discovered by anyone—such as the air-defense missile ring that once surrounded Budapest.

Attention! This article is an extended, author’s version of a piece I originally published in 2011. Some of the information may no longer be up-to-date.

Those who grew up during the Cold War years still remember the sign with a camera crossed out in a blue frame: photography prohibited. Nowadays, signs with the same meaning are appearing more frequently again, but today’s version shows a camera crossed out in a red circle—just like most prohibition signs in Europe. Back in the socialist era, however, it was blue and rectangular, meaning it belonged to the family of informational signs rather than prohibitory ones—like those for bus stops, parking, or pedestrian crossings.

It was the only blue prohibition sign in the Hungarian Highway Code—or was it really more of an informational sign? As the famous Hungarian comedian Géza Hofi said: “The ‘photography prohibited’ sign is loved by spies, because it makes their work easier.” It was an unmistakable signal that a secret military facility or an important installation was nearby. Of course, by the early 1960s, Corona satellites were already taking images of similar quality to what anyone can now view on Google Earth.

Around Budapest, in places that were once “posted,” satellite images reveal compounds with distinctive road networks that appear fenced-in. On plots now overgrown with brush, there are strange little circles alongside the roads, along with a few buildings—some of them clearly covered with earth. These were the sites of the air-defense missile ring that once protected Budapest.

If someone wants to visit one of the abandoned firing positions over the weekend, here are the GPS coordinates as well:

Battalion	Missile System	Code Name	Location	GPS Coordinates
11. Lgv dd.	Brigade Command Post	Galecska	Érd	47°25’24.24″N 18°51’7.17″E
11/1	Sz-75M Volhov	Cenzor	Pilisszentlászló (Urak asztala)	47°45’13.28″N 19° 0’25.92″E
11/2	Sz-75M Volhov	Sétány	Pilisszentkereszt (Pilis)	47°41’19.74″N 18°52’17.85″E
11/3	Sz-75M Volhov	Kókusz	Zsámbék	47°33’18.43″N 18°42’12.37″E
11/4	Sz-75M Volhov	Pajzs	Etyek	47°26’16.50″N 18°43’50.44″E
11/7	Sz-75M Volhov	Boltív	Ócsa (Felsőpakony)	47°20’2.35″N 19°16’14.93″E
11/8	Sz-75M Volhov	Búza	Fót	47°38’24.94″N 19°11’34.48″E
11/9	Sz-125M Nyeva	Vésnök	Pilisszentlászló (Lom hegy)	47°41’29.31″N 18°57’56.80″E
11/10	Sz-125M Nyeva	Gárda	Tinnye	47°36’50.20″N 18°47’37.26″E
11/11	Sz-125M Nyeva	Holdfény	Biatorbágy	47°27’19.63″N 18°50’46.66″E
11/12	Sz-125M Nyeva	Üzem	Szigethalom	47°18’29.99″N 19° 0’11.41″E
11/13	Sz-125M Nyeva	Óda	Gyál	47°23’30.00″N 19°11’14.48″E
11/14	Sz-75M Volhov	Atlasz	Kerepes (Bolnoka)	47°34’49.53″N 19°18’7.20″E
11/15	Technical Battalion	Rezeda	Börgönd	47° 8’17.21″N 18°29’41.04″E
11/16	Sz-125M Nyeva	Nábob	Gyömrő	47°23’55.94″N 19°25’48.84″E

The Gunners Refit

Until 1959, air defense relied on anti-aircraft guns, autocannons, and machine guns—the kind of weapons you can still see on display at the Citadel in Budapest. In the early 1960s, however, fighter and fighter-bomber aircraft were reaching—and some far surpassing—twice the speed of sound. Against faster, more maneuverable planes with superior climb rates, gun-based air defense was increasingly obsolete. The future seemed to belong to surface-to-air missiles.

Between 1959 and 1962, three anti-aircraft artillery regiments were rearmed with the Soviet S-75M Dvina system (NATO reporting name: SA-2A/B/F Guideline). At the time, this was a state-of-the-art defensive weapon—the same type that shot down Gary Powers’ U-2 spy plane in 1960. The next major upgrade came between 1977 and 1985, when the Dvina was replaced by the S-75M Volhov (SA-2E Guideline), S-125M Neva (SA-3B Goa), and S-200VE Vega-E (SA-5B Gammon) systems.

Around Budapest, traces of the 11th Air Defense Brigade’s Volhov and Neva missile batteries can still be found. The Volhov and Neva systems remained in service with the Hungarian People’s Army until 2000. Their missiles were not equipped with nuclear warheads, but with fragmentation warheads containing conventional explosives. These missiles could also be used against ground targets, where destruction was caused primarily by shrapnel. There were reportedly 15-kiloton nuclear warhead variants, but none were deployed to Hungary. There were no “missile silos” in Hungary either—these air-defense missiles were never launched from underground positions, but from surface-level firing sites.

Dvina/Volhov

On Google Earth, the Fót firing position (TÁS) is perhaps the most clearly visible, located right next to the vineyards. You can clearly make out the six earthen ramparts arranged in a circle around the launch pads (1). These concrete slabs once held the missile launchers. In the center, there’s a mound of earth with an entrance on the northeast side leading into the bunker of the missile guidance station (SNR) (2).

The bunker itself was essentially six large bays closed with massive steel doors, housing the combat command post (HÁP) and its technical equipment—about six trailer loads, including three diesel generators and the central command cabin (UV cabin). The fire-control radar (PV cabin), with its enormous antennas, stood atop the hill in a protective concrete ring (3). It was quite exposed in the event of an enemy attack, but the two 1 MW pulse transmitters could not be installed underground or at any significant distance from the antennas.

The roads leading to the launch pads were used by fueling trucks to deliver the missiles to the launchers. The empty fuel trucks were parked in the section shelters (4), with one shelter serving two launch pads. Each shelter also had a hermetically sealed bunker equipped with chemical protection air filters for the operating crew. The distinctive T-shaped building was the readiness building, also called Building 10 (5), typically designed to accommodate up to 40 personnel. In addition to sleeping quarters, it contained a classroom, dining hall, and several offices. The firing position had its own guard detail; the guard post and the EÁP (entry checkpoint) were located near the gate (6).

For the Volhov system, a separate fueling station (7) was established for loading the missiles with liquid propellant. The fuel, known as “G material” (a 1:1 mixture of xylidine and triethylamine), was extremely toxic, while the oxidizer, “O material” (a nitric acid solution of dinitrogen tetroxide), was both corrosive and highly incendiary. The two would ignite spontaneously upon contact, so they were loaded into the missiles at two separate fueling stations. North of these sites stood the ammunition depot (8), followed by the Cycloid bunker (9). The Cycloid was a microwave radio relay station, part of the automated command system’s communications network. The bunker marked as 10 behind it was likely built for a P-12 long-range early warning radar, later replaced by a P-15 and P-18, which did not fit in the original space and were installed next to Building 10 (11).

Two distinctive buildings, 7 and 7/A, are not visible here. (In Fót, these remained at the original Dvina site in Vácegres, from where spare missiles would have been brought to Fót. During the reorganization in the early 1980s, this cost-saving measure was common—many units kept their old Building 7 and barracks at previous sites.) Building 7 was used for missile storage (three missiles were mounted on launchers, three in section shelters, and theoretically up to 30 in Building 7). Building 7/A was slightly smaller; it housed vehicles, tractors, the crane, and was theoretically the climate-controlled storage for three missiles equipped with “special” warheads (though not in Hungary).

Several missile variants were produced for the Volhov complex. In 1978, Hungary deployed the V-755U (20DSzU), followed in 1983 by the V-759 (5Ya23), which had better maneuverability (20DSzU – max 6.5 g; 5Ya23 – max 9 g) and a more effective warhead (20DSzU – 8,200 fragments; 5Ya23 – 29,000 fragments). This missile, measuring 10.8 m and weighing 2.7 tons at launch, had an oblique range of 56 km (43 km during the powered phase), a maximum speed of 2.6–4 Mach depending on altitude, and an engagement altitude of 100 m to 35 km. The previous model’s 2-minute prelaunch preparation time was reduced to 30 seconds, but at the cost of reducing the “ready” period from 25 minutes to just 5, after which the missile had to be taken offline to prevent the gyroscopes from overheating.

A missile battalion could track only one target at a time but could launch up to three missiles at it in quick succession. Once the target was acquired, tracking was handled by the system’s analog computer. The launch command was transmitted via cables from the control cabin through the launcher to the missile’s onboard systems. In a few tenths of a second, the missile activated its onboard battery, released compressed air for the steering engines, and ignited the booster motor. Flames erupted from the nozzle, and the weapon roared into the sky.

The missile was two-stage. The first stage, the booster, was a solid-propellant rocket loaded with pressed nitrocellulose. Its cylindrical body with large fins was easily recognizable in photos. It fired for only 3 seconds, but with a maximum thrust of 58 tons, it accelerated the missile to 2,000 km/h (Mach 1.8). At this point, the second stage—the liquid-fueled sustainer—ignited, burning through the magnesium straps securing the booster, which then separated, freeing the control surfaces. The missile began its guided flight toward the target. Even then, it did not “see” the target itself; its trajectory was controlled by the autopilot and radio commands from the system’s analog computer. After 40–55 seconds, the fuel was depleted, but the missile coasted for a few more seconds in a passive phase.

If, for any reason, remote control was lost (i.e., the fire-control radar stopped sending commands), the missile would continue flying according to the pre-set mode—either on a ballistic trajectory or climbing to maximum altitude. As it approached the target, the radio proximity fuse in the nose would detect the target and trigger the warhead’s detonator.

The 201 kg warhead contained 90 kg of conventional explosive, which, upon detonation, dispersed approximately 29,000 metal fragments weighing about 4 grams each (the exact number depended on the missile type). Each fragment had the destructive effect of a rifle bullet. A direct hit was unnecessary; a detonation within 50–100 meters of the target was sufficient for the fragment cloud to do its job.

If the missile missed its target, the automatic self-destruct system would destroy it. The guidance officer could also manually trigger self-destruct if needed.

The Neva – It Took Down a Stealth Fighter

The smaller Neva missiles also had a shorter range (25 km). They were primarily intended for engaging low-flying, highly maneuverable targets that would have been difficult to destroy with the larger Volhov missiles. In 1999, one of these missiles shot down an American F-117 stealth aircraft and an F-16CG Falcon over Yugoslavia. The missile battery was commanded by Colonel Zoltán Dani, who is of Székely (Transylvanian Hungarian) origin.

Neva sites are easy to distinguish from Volhov positions. Here, the combat command post (HÁP) consisted of only three bays, and above ground only the antenna was visible—everything else was placed underground. Another striking difference is that around the Neva HÁP there were only four horseshoe-shaped launch pads, arranged as dead-end spurs rather than having roads pass through them (since the fueling trucks had to reverse directly onto the launcher, instead of parking alongside as with the Volhov).

Both systems had one launcher per position, but while the Volhov could load only one missile onto a launcher, the Neva could hold four. Neva positions also lacked fueling stations, as these missiles were solid-fueled.

One of the principles of Soviet military policy was that Warsaw Pact member states were supplied with equipment that was one generation behind what the Soviet military used—two generations behind in the case of less friendly countries. No ally was ever given access to the latest technologies.

Today’s missile defense

The S-300 systems, which succeeded the Volhov, began deployment as early as 1979. At the time of writing, the S-400 Triumf is being installed. These are highly mobile, long-range (up to 400 km), digitally controlled weapons. Instead of fixed, easily detectable firing positions vulnerable to enemy strikes, the missiles are launched from mobile platforms that can be quickly redeployed.

A single squadron consists of 12 launch vehicles, each carrying 4 missiles—48 in total. The propellant can remain stored in the missiles for extended periods, eliminating the need for frequent maintenance, loading onto launchers, or pre-launch preparation. The missiles are launched directly from their sealed transport and storage tubes.

The system can engage not only aircraft, cruise missiles, and ballistic missiles but reportedly also performs well against low radar cross-section (stealth) targets. It can guide up to 12 missiles against six targets simultaneously (two missiles per target). Individual batteries are capable of withstanding a large-scale airstrike.

The Russians proudly showcase these systems—and even boast about the upcoming S-500, which is still under development. News broadcasts have reported on successful tests, and YouTube hosts plenty of promotional material.

Of course, we never received any of the now second-line S-300 systems, even though two battalions (11/5 and 11/6) were planned for deployment at the end of the Cold War—but that never happened. Hungary also took a different direction in terms of military policy, and truth be told, we haven’t shown much eagerness to fully integrate into NATO’s air defense system either.

Experts say the greatest threat today comes from sudden, peacetime airstrikes that might involve ballistic missiles or unmanned, remotely controlled systems. At present, our best response would probably be to look up, shake our fists, or pull a sheet over ourselves and crawl toward the nearest hole.

The dismantling of Hungary’s air defense began after the regime change, in 1995. The readiness service was terminated, personnel numbers were reduced, and due to lack of funds, systems were switched on less and less frequently. Fuel consumption was restricted, and there were times when even the electricity bill couldn’t be paid. Through repeated reorganizations, units lost both technical equipment and trained personnel. Finally, in 2000, the 11th “Duna” Air Defense Missile Regiment was disbanded, leaving only the short-range air defense systems (2K12 Kub, Mistral) in Győr.

Anyone interested in today’s 12th “Arabona” Air Defense Missile Regiment, or in the history and technology of this branch of service, should visit their website: www.raketaezred.hu.

A Missile Complex at Home

Today, the former firing positions stand abandoned, stripped of anything valuable by scrap collectors. Yet many still remember this command: “From Censor to Atlas, everyone to reduced group, FIRST LEVEL!”

In 2005, a handful of enthusiasts launched a thread on Index titled Air Defense Missiles in Hungary. Over the past half-decade, it has accumulated an impressive wealth of technical and historical information. Thanks to a user known as Hpasp, a completely civilian-developed, free SAM (Surface-to-Air Missile) simulator was created—the first of its kind in the world. With it, anyone can try their hand at operating the S-75M3 Volhov, S-125M1 Neva, and 2K11 KRUG-M1 (SA-4B Ganef) systems. (Dvina and Shilka are still in the planning stage.)

Military experts say the simulator is realistic and well-crafted, but no one should expect Star Wars-style graphics, flying jets, or flashy missiles. The software shows exactly what the operators of these systems saw during actual combat—control panels, switches, and display screens. While the documentation is available in Hungarian, English, Russian, Slovak, Japanese, and Chinese, the control labels remain in the original Russian.

In Hungary, the simulator can only recreate training scenarios—“live” missile launches are possible only in foreign training ranges or in certain historical situations. Anyone interested can find it at:
http://sites.google.com/site/samsimulator1972

“Volt tüzér” (Former Gunner), retired Lt. Col. Ferenc Hibácskó, and his team worked tirelessly to create a unique air-defense museum at the former firing position in Zsámbék, commemorating the 50th anniversary of Hungary’s missile-based air defense under the auspices of the Military History Museum. The opening was attended by several high-ranking officers, including retired Colonel Zoltán Dani, who traveled from Serbia.

That concludes the original article. Back then, I continued with a detailed presentation of the museum—opening hours, admission fees, directions, and highlights. I’ll skip that now, as the museum has since been largely dismantled, leaving only ruins behind. Nature is gradually reclaiming the 15-hectare site.

Instead, here are some photos from the exhibition’s heyday:

The last photo shows the 2K12 Kub missile system. Its successor, the 9K37 Buk system, was used to shoot down Malaysia Airlines Flight 17—a Boeing 777-200ER, registration 9M-MRD—three years after the original article was written, on July 17, 2014. All 283 passengers and 15 crew members on board were killed.

The aircraft crashed in the war zone over Donetsk. The wreckage was looted by mobs, the victims’ bodies were stripped, and several stolen mobile phones were reportedly still in use weeks after the tragedy.

According to Flightglobal, Dutch investigators conclusively determined that the missile which brought down the innocent passenger plane belonged to the Russian Federation’s 53rd Air Defense Brigade.