Excerpts from
Than
a Thousand Suns:
The Story of the Men
Who Made the Bomb",
by Robert Jungk,
translated
by James Cleugh,
Harcourt, Brace,
and World Inc.
Publishers, 1958
It seems paradoxical
that
the
German
nuclear physicists,
living under
a
sabre-rattling dictatorship,
obeyed
the voice of conscience
and
attempted
to prevent
the construction
of atom bombs,
while
their
professional colleagues
in
the democracies,
who
had
no coercion
to fear,
with
very few exceptions
concentrated
their whole energies
on
production
of the new weapon.
Fifteen years later
a German scientist
tried to explain
this situation
in the following words:
"We were
really no better,
morally
or
intellectually,
than
our
foreign colleagues.
But by the time
the war began
we had
already learned
from
the bitter experience
of the
nearly seven years
under Hitler
that
one had to
treat the state
and
its
executive organizations
with
suspicion
and
reserve.
The citizens
of
totalitarian countries
are
rarely good patriots.
But our colleagues
elsewhere
had
at that time
complete confidence
in
the decency
and
sense of justice
of
their governments."
The speaker hesitated
for
a moment
and
then added:
"I doubt,
incidentally,
whether
exactly
the same situation
prevails
in
those countries
today."
On the outbreak
of war
there was
a general movement
among scientists
in
the nations
threatened by Hitler
to
support
their governments.
This was
a
magnificent vote
of confidence
in
the justice
and
moral responsibility
in practice
of
the democratic system.
It was
all the more
astonishing
because
the scientist
is not
at heart
an ideal citizen
but one
never satisfied,
eternally striving
for
what is new.
it is his nature
to call in question
the
existing order of things
and
seek
for
new and improved
solutions
of
problems.
This tendency
of
scientists
to criticize
and amend
could be
much better
understood
by
a
democratic government
than by
a rigidly authoritarian
and
totalitarian
regime.
In fact
it was
of
positive advantage
to
a democracy.
It was
invariably true
at that time
that
the
conservative element
was
chiefly represented
by
the
military authorities.
Their opposition
to
all new weapons
was great,
but
never so strong
as in
the
atom project.
American
nuclear physicists
were still chuckling,
years later,
over stories
illustrative
of
the
widespread mistrust
and
shortsightedness
at first evident
among
the representatives
of
the armed forces
about
the plans
of
"those fools."
[p. 105 - 106]
+++
Shortly after
Goudsmit
had discovered
Weizaker's papers
dealing with
the German
atomic project
he
went for a walk
with
a major
who
had been attached
to
the Alsos group
in the capacity
of
liaison officer
with
the
War Department.
"Isn't it wonderful,"
Goudsmit remarked,
"that the Germans
have no
atom bomb?
Now
we won't
have to
use ours."
The professional soldier's
retort
shocked Goudsmit,
for,
out of his
many years' experience
of
the military mind,
he prophesied:
"Of course
you understand,
Sam,
that if we have
such a weapon
we are
going
to use it."
Thoughts similar
to
Goudsmit's
troubled
the atomic scientists
who
read
at
General Grove's
head office,
in their capacity
as experts,
Goudsmit's
detailed reports
from
the
seat of war.
Each report
of
the Alsos agents,
who
by this time
had captured
in
Heidelberg,
Celle,
Hamburg
and
the city of Ilm
in
Thuringen
all the members
of
the
Uranium Society,
including finally
even
Heisenberg
himself,
found
at his house
near Urfeld,
made it clear
that
the Germans
really
did not possess
any atom bombs.
They had not
even created
the
preliminary
practical conditions
for
the construction
of
such a weapon.
The Alsos mission's
reports
of
the non-existence
of
a German
atom bomb
were naturally
"top secret".
But
no
security measure,
however strict,
could stop
this amazing news
from
going the rounds
of
all
the Allied laboratories,
where
it was
eagerly discussed.
The reports
confronted
the atomic scientists,
intellectually
and
psychologically,
with
an
entirely new
situation.
The assumptions
on which
they had started work
were
no longer valid.
Could
any
further work
on
the bomb
be
politically
and
morally justified
at all now?
Of
course
not!
For
the Japanese,
who were
at present
the
only
serious adversaries
the
Allied Nations
had left,
were
in no position,
it was known
for certain,
to
develop
any such weapon.
On the other hand
it would have been
contrary
to the spirit
of
modern science
and
technology
to
refrain voluntarily
from
the
further development
of
a
new field of research,
however dangerous
it might be
for
the future,
and
leave it
only
half explored.
New grounds
had therefore
to be provided
for
the political
and moral
justification
of
the
continuance of work,
even
under
these changed conditions,
in
the
atomic-research
laboratories.
Such arguments
were
soon forthcoming.
They ran
somewhat
as follows.
"If we don't
now
develop
this weapon
and
demonstrate
to the world,
by
public experiment,
its
appalling
nature,
sooner or later
some other
unscrupulous power
will attempt,
unobtrusively
and
in all secrecy,
to
manufacture it.
It will be better
for
the future peace
of
the world
if humanity
at least
knows
where it stands."
Such
was the attitude,
for instance,
of
Niels Bohr
in
the
confidential discussions
which arose.
But
an
even stronger argument
for
justifying
further research
went as follows:
"Humanity
needs
the new source of power
which
we have discovered
and developed.
All we have to do
is
to take care
that
in future
it shall be used
for
peaceful purposes
instead of
for destruction."
Such problems
were
most intensively debated
in
the
Metallurgical Laboratory
of
the
University of Chicago.
Since, after 1944,
the main task
of
development
had been transferred
to
Oak Ridge,
Hanford
and
Los Alamos,
time could be given
in Chicago,
where
the atomic project
had registered
its first important results,
to
the consideration
of
the
actual consequences
to be
expected
from
the
new invention.
It was
among
the Chicago scientists,
too,
that
the
first protests
were heard
later
against
the proposal
to
use the bomb
in
the war
against Japan.
They were
also
the first
to consider thoroughly
the possibilities
of
the
international control
and
peaceful development
of
atomic power.
It was in Chicago,
as early as
the summer of 1944,
that a committee
of
atomic scientists
was formed
under
the chairmanship
of
Zay Jeffries,
who
in peacetime
had been
one of the directors
of
General Electric.
The committee
composed
a number of reports
on
the potentialities
and
perils
of
the new,
epoch-making
discoveries.
These reports
were submitted
to
General Groves
on
December 28, 1944,
under the title
of
"Nucleonic Prospects."
Independently
of this committee
Bohr
had,
since the beginning
of 1944,
been studying
the
political problems
involved
in
the discovery
of
the "new power."
The great Danish scholar
did not share
the
current optimism
with regard
to
the future relations
between
the chief partners
in the alliance
opposed
to the Axis.
He foresaw
that
there might be
friction
and
conflict
between
East and West
after the war.
Agreement
among
the
three great powers,
the United States,
Britain
and
Soviet Russia,
as to
common control
of
all applications
of
atomic energy
seemed
to Bohr
more easily attainable
before
completion
of
the atom bomb
or
its actual employment
in war.
[p. 171 - 173]
+++
It is
not generally known
that
the Pope
uttered a warning
against
the destructive use
of
atomic energy
in a speech
to
the
Pontifical Academy
of Science
on
February 21, 1943,
a date
at which
the
ordinary public
still
knew nothing
of
the atom bomb.
In April 1946
Monsignor Sheen
made
the following comment
on that speech:
"It is
to be noted
that
the Holy Father
not only
knew about
atomic energy
and
something of its power,
but he also,
exercising his office
as
Chief Shepherd
of
the Church,
asked the nations
of the world
never
to use it
destructively.
This counsel
was
not taken.
This
moral voice
was
unheeded."
[p. 174, footnote]
+++
General Groves,
for his part,
had
no doubt whatever
that
the bomb
would be used
for
war purposes
as soon as
it was ready.
[p. 176]
+++
...factories
had arisen
at
Oak Ridge
that were
longer than those
to be found
anywhere else
in
the United States.
Works inspectors
had to
use bicycles
to patrol them.
At Hanford
60,000 laborers
had built
one of the largest
chemical works
in the country.
At Los Alamos
seven divisions
were employed
on
the mysterious
"end product."
Literally thousands
of
new inventions
and
patents
had been developed
in the course
of the work.
The description
alone
of
the
most important
new processes
developed
at Hanford
would have
filled
thirty stout volumes.
Was
the
practical application
of
the result
of years
of
strenuous efforts
by
150,000 people,
the introduction
of
a weapon
that
had involved
the
expenditure
of
two billion dollars,
now
to be
voluntarily renounced?
General Groves
did not
even
trouble
to
discuss
the idea.
In his view
it was
too silly
to consider.
An
atomic scientist
who
was working
in
close contact
with him
at that time
states
that from 1945 on
Groves
gave
the impression
of
being obsessed
by
one intense fear,
that
the war
would be finished
before
his bomb
could be.
Accordingly,
even after
the
capitulation
of
Germany
he continued
to
exhort his collaborators
with
the incessant slogan:
We must not
lose
a single day.
[p. 177]
+++
It was
further resolved
that
four Japanese cities
should be
deliberately
spared bombardment
by
the
American formations
which
by 1945
could
reconnoiter
any target
they pleased
in Japan
with practically
no resistance.
This
deceptive period
of grace
was granted
these four cities
so they
could be
doomed
to a ruin
all the more
dreadful
by
the
new bomb.
On
the short list
of
targets
for
the atom bomb,
in addition
to
Hiroshima,
Kokura
and
Nigata,
was
the
Japanese city
of
temples,
Kyoto.
When the expert
on Japan,
Professor
Edwin O. Reischauer,
heard this
terrible news,
he rushed
into the office
of
his chief,
Major
Alfred MacCormack,
in
the department
of
the
Army Intelligence
Service.
The shock
caused him
to
burst into tears.
MacCormack,
a cultivated
and
humane
New York lawyer,
thereupon
managed
to persuade
Secretary of War
Stimson
to
reprieve Kyoto
and
have it
crossed off
the
black list.
[p. 178]
[This one
following event
is
presented
out of sequence
in
the
source materials:]
a year later,
Slotin
was
carrying out
an experiment,
similar to those
he had
so often
successfully
performed
in
the past.
It was
connected
with
the preparation
of
the
second
atom-bomb test,
to be
performed
in
the waters
of
the
South Sea atoll
of
Bikini.
Suddenly
his
screwdriver
slipped.
The hemispheres
came
too close together
and
the
material
became
critical.
The
whole room
was
instantly
filled
with
a
dazzling,
bluish
glare.
Slotin,
instead of
ducking
and
thereby
possibly
saving himself,
tore
the
two hemispheres
apart
with
his hands
and
thus interrupted
the
chain reaction.
By this action
he
saved the lives
of
the
seven other persons
in
the room.
He
had realized
at once
that
he himself
would be
bound to succumb
to
the effects
of
the excessive
radiation dose
which
he
had absorbed.
But
he
did not lose
his self-control
for
a moment.
He
told his colleagues
to
go and stand
exactly
where they had been
at
the instant
of
the disaster.
He then
drew
on
the
blackboard,
with
his own hand,
an
accurate sketch
of
their
relative positions,
so that
the doctors
could ascertain
the
degree of radiation
to which
each
of
those present
had been
exposed.
As he
was sitting
with
Al Graves,
the scientist who,
except himself ,
had been
most severely
infected
by
the radiation,
waiting
at the roadside
for the car
which
had been ordered
to
take them
to
the hospital,
he said quietly
to his companion:
"You'll
come through
all right.
But
I haven't
the
faintest chance
myself."
It was
only
too true.
Nine days later
the man
who had
experimentally
determined
the
critical mass
for
the first atom bomb
died
in
terrible agony.
[p. 195 - 196]
+++
And here,
we return to the days
BEFORE
the first atomic bombs
were completed.
+++
Some days
before
the first test
of
the bomb
it was
an open secret
in
Alamogordo,
even among
the
wives and children
of
the
Los Alamos scientists,
that
some
particularly important
and
exciting event
was
in preparation.
The test
was referred to
under
the code name
"Trinity."
No clear
explanation
has hitherto
been forthcoming
as to
why
this
blasphemous expression
was
employed,
above all
in
such a connection.
[p. 196 - 197]
+++
The question
whether
the
first complete atom bomb
would be
a "dud" or a success,
or,
as they said at Los Alamos,
a "girl" or a "boy",
aroused
such intense interest
that
it became the pretext
for
a
charming little game
with horror.
Lothar W. Nordheim,
an atomic physicist
who
had
once been a member
of
the old guard
of Gottingen,
relates:
"The scientists
at
Lost Alamos
had
a betting pool
before
the first test
of
July 16, 1945,
on
the size
of
the burst.
But
most estimates
were
too low
by far
except
for
one or two
wild
guesses."
[p. 197]
+++
After consultation
with
the
meteorological experts
it was
eventually
decided
to explode
the
experimental bomb
at
5:30 A.M.
At
ten minutes past five
Oppenheimer's deputy,
the atomic physicist
Saul K. Allison,
one of
the twenty people
in
the control room,
began
to
send out
time signals.
At
about the same time
Groves,
who had
by then
left the control point
and
returned
to the Base Camp,
something over
four miles
further back,
was giving
the
scientific personnel
waiting
at the Camp
their last instructions.
They were
to
put on
their sunglasses
and
lie down
on their faces
with
their heads
turned away.
For
it was considered
practically certain
that
anyone
who tried to observe
the flames
with
the naked eye
would be blinded.
During
the
ensuing period
of
waiting,
which seemed
an eternity,
hardly a word
was spoken.
Everyone
was
giving free play
to
his thoughts.
But so far as
those
who have
been asked
can remember,
these thoughts
were
not apocalyptic.
Most of the people
concerned,
it appears,
were trying to
work out
how long
it would be
before they could
shift
their
uncomfortable position
and
obtain some kind
of view
of
the
spectacle awaited.
Fermi,
experimental-minded
as ever,
was holding
scraps of paper,
with which
he meant to gauge
the air pressure
and
thereby
estimate the strength
of
the explosion
the moment
it occurred.
Frisch
was intent
on memorizing
the phenomenon
as precisely
as possible,
without allowing
either
excitement
or
preconceived notions
to
interfere
with
his faculties
of
perception.
Groves
was wondering
for
the hundredth time
whether
he had taken
every possible step
to
ensure
rapid evacuation
in
the case
of
a disaster.
Oppenheimer
oscillated
between
fears
that
the experiment
would fail
and
fears
that it would
succeed.
Then
everything
happened
faster
than
it could
be understood.
No one
saw
the first flash
of
the
atomic fire
itself.
It was
only possible
to
see
its
dazzling
white reflection
in
the sky
and
on
the hills.
Those
who then
ventured
to
turn their heads
perceived
a bright ball
of flame,
growing
steadily larger
and
larger.
"Good God,
I believe
that
the
long-haired boys
have
lost control!"
a senior officer
shouted.
Carson Mark,
one
of the most
brilliant members
of
the
Theoretical Division,
actually thought --
though
his intelligence
told him
the thing
was impossible --
that
the ball of fire
would
never stop growing
till it
had enveloped
all
heaven and earth.
At that moment
everyone
forgot
what he
had intended
to do.
Groves writes:
"Some of
the men
in their
excitement,
having had
three years
to get ready for it,
at the last minute
forgot
those
welders' helmets
and
stumbled out
of the cars
where
they were sitting.
They were
distinctly
blinded
for
two or three
seconds.
In that time
they lost
the view
of
what
they had been waiting
for over three years
to see."
People
were transfixed
with
fright
at
the power
of
the explosion.
Oppenheimer
was
clinging
to
one of the uprights
in
the control room.
A passage
from
the Bhagavad-Gita,
the
sacred epic
of
the Hindus,
flashed
into his mind.
If the radiance of a thousand suns
were to burst into the sky,
that would be like
the splendor of the Mighty One --
Yet,
when
the sinister
and
gigantic
cloud
rose up
in the far distance
over Point Zero,
he was
reminded
of
another line
from
the same source:
I am become Death,
the shatterer of worlds.
Sri Krishna,
the Exalted One,
lord
of the fate
of
mortals,
had uttered
the phrase.
But
Robert Oppenheimer
was only a man,
into whose hands
a mighty,
a
far too mighty,
instrument
of power
had been given.
It is
a striking fact
that
none of those
present
reacted
to
the phenomenon
as professionally
as
he had
supposed he would.
They all,
even those --
who constituted
the
majority --
ordinarily
without
religious faith
or
even
any inclination
thereto,
recounted
their experiences
in words
derived
from
the linguistic fields
of
myth
and
theology.
General Farrell,
for example,
states:
"The whole country
was
lighted
by
a searing light
with
an intensity
many times that
of
the midday sun ...
Thirty seconds
after
the
explosion
came,
first,
the air blast
pressing hard
against
the
people and things,
to be followed
almost immediately
by
the strong,
sustained,
awesome
roar
which warned
of
doomsday
and
made us feel
that we
puny things
were
blasphemous
to
dare tamper
with
the forces
heretofore
reserved
to
the Almighty.
Words
are inadequate tools
for
the job
of
acquainting those
not present
with
the physical,
mental
and
psychological effects.
It had
to be
witnessed
to be
realized."
Even
so cool
and
matter-of-fact
a person
as
Enrico Fermi
received
a profound shock,
in spite of
the retort
he had made
to
all the objections
of
his colleagues
to
the bomb
during
the discussions
of
the past few weeks.
He had
always said:
"Don't bother me
with
your
conscientious
scruples!
After all,
the thing's
superb physics!"
Never before
had
he allowed
anyone else
to
drive his car.
But on this occasion
he confessed
that
he
did not feel capable
of
sitting at the wheel
and
asked a friend
to
take it for him
on the road
back
to Los Alamos.
He told his wife,
the morning
after his return,
that it
had seemed to him
as if
the car
were
jumping
from
curve to curve,
skipping
the straight stretches
in
between.
It appears
that
General Groves
was
the first
to
regain
his composure.
He consoled
one of the scientists
who rushed up
to him
almost in tears,
announcing
that
the
unexpectedly
powerful explosion
had destroyed
all his
observation and measuring
instruments,
with the words:
"Well,
if the instruments
couldn't stand it,
the bang
must
certainly
have been
a
pretty big one.
And that,
after all,
was
what we
most wanted
to know."
To
General Farrell
he remarked:
"The war's over.
One or two
of
those things,
and
Japan
will be
finished."
The general public
was,
for the time being,
told nothing
about
this
first
world-shaking
atomic explosion.
Dwellers
near
the
experimental area
up to
a distance
of some 125 miles
had seen
an
unusually bright light
in the sky
about 5:30 A.M.
But they
were put
on
the wrong scent
by
the head of
the
Manhattan District
press agency,
Jim Moynahan,
who
sent
the false information
that
munitions depot
had blown up
in
the
Alamogordo region.
He added
that
no lives
had
been lost.
On the other hand
the
security authorities,
when they tried
to
restrict knowledge
of
the successful test
to
those
who had
taken part
in it,
failed
once more
in their object.
Within a few days
the scientists'
whispering campaign
had
carried the news
to
all
the
Manhattan Project
laboratories.
Harrison Brown,
one of
the younger men
on research
at
Oak Ridge,
recalls:
"We knew
about
the fireball,
the
mushroom cloud,
the
intense heat.
Following Alamogordo
many of us
signed
a petition
urging
that
the atomic bomb
should
not be used
against Japan
without
prior demonstration
and
opportunity
to
surrender.
And
we urged
that
the government
start immediately
to
study
the possibility
of
securing
international control
of
the
new weapon."
The petition
mentioned
by Brown
had been drafted
by
Szilard,
who,
after the failure
of his efforts
at
the White House
and
the
negative results
of
the Franck Report,
had decided
to
lead
a
last forlorn hope.
His idea
was
to collect
the
greatest possible
number
of
signatures
from
participants
in the
Manhattan Project
protesting
against
the use
of
the bomb.
When
a copy
of
the petition
came
into the hands
of
the director
of
the
Oak Ridge laboratory
he
at once
informed Groves
of
the movement.
It
would have been
difficult
for
the General
to
forbid
the men
on
research
to
sign
the document.
He
therefore
hit
on a different method
of
stopping
its further circulation.
Szilard's petition
was
declared
"secret".
And
the law stated
that
secret papers
could
only be taken
from
one place to another
under
military guard.
Thus
all Groves
had to do
was
to decree:
"Unfortunately,
we
cannot spare
any troops
for
the protection
of
this document.
Until
we can do so
it must be
kept
locked up."
In Chicago
the men
working
in the
Metallurgical Laboratory
were
growing
more and more
restless.
John A. Simpson,
a young physicist
who
took
a particularly active part
in the efforts
to
prevent
the bomb
being dropped ,
states:
"In June
an extensive
panel discussion
was held
within
the Laboratory
by
several
of
the younger scientists,
covering subjects
ranging
from
the ways
of
using the bomb
to
international controls.
Following
these discussions
the
military officials
refused to permit
more than
three people
to
enter into discussions
on
the problem
at
Laboratory meetings.
The scientists
then
resorted
to the
fantastic technique
of
holding meetings
in
a small room,
where
a succession
of
about twenty people
would,
one at a time,
enter
to discuss
these problems
with
a panel
of
two or three
scientists
selected
for
the evening."
Excitement ran
so high
in Chicago
that
eventually
the Director,
A. H. Compton,
had
a vote taken,
through
his deputy,
Farrington Daniels,
who
put
the
following questions:
Which
of
the
following procedures
comes closest
to
your choice
as
the way
in which
any
new weapon
that we
might develop
should be used
in
the
Japanese war?
(1) Use them
in the manner
that is
from
the military
point of view
most effective
in bringing about
prompt
Japanese surrender
at
minimum cost
to
our own
armed forces
(23 votes, i.e., 15 per cent).
(2) Give
a military demonstration
in
Japan,
to be followed
by
a renewed opportunity
for
surrender
before
full use
of
the weapon
(69 votes, i.e., 46 per cent).
(3) Give
an
experimental
demonstration
in
this country
with
representatives
of
Japan
present
followed by
a
new opportunity
for
surrender
before
full use
of the weapon
(39 votes, i.e., 26 per cent).
(4) Withhold
military use
of
the weapons
but
make public
experimental
demonstration
of
their effectiveness
(16 votes, i.e., 11 per cent).
(5) Maintain
as secret
as possible
all developments
of
our new weapons
and
refrain
from using them
in
this war
(3 votes, i.e., 2 per cent).
Unfortunately
the voting,
in which
150 persons
participated,
took place
without
any
previous debate.
Consequently,
the greatest number
of votes,
69,
were cast
for
the second alternative,
suggesting
a
military demonstration
in
Japan.
But
after
the first two bombs
had
been dropped
on
the
center
of the town
of
Hiroshima
and
on
Nagasaki
most
of
the 69 voters
explained
that
they had
taken
a "military
demonstration
in Japan"
to mean
an attack
on
purely military
objectives,
not
on
targets
occupied also,
in fact mainly,
by
civilians.
[p. 199 - 204]
+++
Than
a Thousand Suns:
The Story of the Men
Who Made the Bomb",
by Robert Jungk,
translated
by James Cleugh,
Harcourt, Brace,
and World Inc.
Publishers, 1958
It seems paradoxical
that
the
German
nuclear physicists,
living under
a
sabre-rattling dictatorship,
obeyed
the voice of conscience
and
attempted
to prevent
the construction
of atom bombs,
while
their
professional colleagues
in
the democracies,
who
had
no coercion
to fear,
with
very few exceptions
concentrated
their whole energies
on
production
of the new weapon.
Fifteen years later
a German scientist
tried to explain
this situation
in the following words:
"We were
really no better,
morally
or
intellectually,
than
our
foreign colleagues.
But by the time
the war began
we had
already learned
from
the bitter experience
of the
nearly seven years
under Hitler
that
one had to
treat the state
and
its
executive organizations
with
suspicion
and
reserve.
The citizens
of
totalitarian countries
are
rarely good patriots.
But our colleagues
elsewhere
had
at that time
complete confidence
in
the decency
and
sense of justice
of
their governments."
The speaker hesitated
for
a moment
and
then added:
"I doubt,
incidentally,
whether
exactly
the same situation
prevails
in
those countries
today."
On the outbreak
of war
there was
a general movement
among scientists
in
the nations
threatened by Hitler
to
support
their governments.
This was
a
magnificent vote
of confidence
in
the justice
and
moral responsibility
in practice
of
the democratic system.
It was
all the more
astonishing
because
the scientist
is not
at heart
an ideal citizen
but one
never satisfied,
eternally striving
for
what is new.
it is his nature
to call in question
the
existing order of things
and
seek
for
new and improved
solutions
of
problems.
This tendency
of
scientists
to criticize
and amend
could be
much better
understood
by
a
democratic government
than by
a rigidly authoritarian
and
totalitarian
regime.
In fact
it was
of
positive advantage
to
a democracy.
It was
invariably true
at that time
that
the
conservative element
was
chiefly represented
by
the
military authorities.
Their opposition
to
all new weapons
was great,
but
never so strong
as in
the
atom project.
American
nuclear physicists
were still chuckling,
years later,
over stories
illustrative
of
the
widespread mistrust
and
shortsightedness
at first evident
among
the representatives
of
the armed forces
about
the plans
of
"those fools."
[p. 105 - 106]
+++
Shortly after
Goudsmit
had discovered
Weizaker's papers
dealing with
the German
atomic project
he
went for a walk
with
a major
who
had been attached
to
the Alsos group
in the capacity
of
liaison officer
with
the
War Department.
"Isn't it wonderful,"
Goudsmit remarked,
"that the Germans
have no
atom bomb?
Now
we won't
have to
use ours."
The professional soldier's
retort
shocked Goudsmit,
for,
out of his
many years' experience
of
the military mind,
he prophesied:
"Of course
you understand,
Sam,
that if we have
such a weapon
we are
going
to use it."
Thoughts similar
to
Goudsmit's
troubled
the atomic scientists
who
read
at
General Grove's
head office,
in their capacity
as experts,
Goudsmit's
detailed reports
from
the
seat of war.
Each report
of
the Alsos agents,
who
by this time
had captured
in
Heidelberg,
Celle,
Hamburg
and
the city of Ilm
in
Thuringen
all the members
of
the
Uranium Society,
including finally
even
Heisenberg
himself,
found
at his house
near Urfeld,
made it clear
that
the Germans
really
did not possess
any atom bombs.
They had not
even created
the
preliminary
practical conditions
for
the construction
of
such a weapon.
The Alsos mission's
reports
of
the non-existence
of
a German
atom bomb
were naturally
"top secret".
But
no
security measure,
however strict,
could stop
this amazing news
from
going the rounds
of
all
the Allied laboratories,
where
it was
eagerly discussed.
The reports
confronted
the atomic scientists,
intellectually
and
psychologically,
with
an
entirely new
situation.
The assumptions
on which
they had started work
were
no longer valid.
Could
any
further work
on
the bomb
be
politically
and
morally justified
at all now?
Of
course
not!
For
the Japanese,
who were
at present
the
only
serious adversaries
the
Allied Nations
had left,
were
in no position,
it was known
for certain,
to
develop
any such weapon.
On the other hand
it would have been
contrary
to the spirit
of
modern science
and
technology
to
refrain voluntarily
from
the
further development
of
a
new field of research,
however dangerous
it might be
for
the future,
and
leave it
only
half explored.
New grounds
had therefore
to be provided
for
the political
and moral
justification
of
the
continuance of work,
even
under
these changed conditions,
in
the
atomic-research
laboratories.
Such arguments
were
soon forthcoming.
They ran
somewhat
as follows.
"If we don't
now
develop
this weapon
and
demonstrate
to the world,
by
public experiment,
its
appalling
nature,
sooner or later
some other
unscrupulous power
will attempt,
unobtrusively
and
in all secrecy,
to
manufacture it.
It will be better
for
the future peace
of
the world
if humanity
at least
knows
where it stands."
Such
was the attitude,
for instance,
of
Niels Bohr
in
the
confidential discussions
which arose.
But
an
even stronger argument
for
justifying
further research
went as follows:
"Humanity
needs
the new source of power
which
we have discovered
and developed.
All we have to do
is
to take care
that
in future
it shall be used
for
peaceful purposes
instead of
for destruction."
Such problems
were
most intensively debated
in
the
Metallurgical Laboratory
of
the
University of Chicago.
Since, after 1944,
the main task
of
development
had been transferred
to
Oak Ridge,
Hanford
and
Los Alamos,
time could be given
in Chicago,
where
the atomic project
had registered
its first important results,
to
the consideration
of
the
actual consequences
to be
expected
from
the
new invention.
It was
among
the Chicago scientists,
too,
that
the
first protests
were heard
later
against
the proposal
to
use the bomb
in
the war
against Japan.
They were
also
the first
to consider thoroughly
the possibilities
of
the
international control
and
peaceful development
of
atomic power.
It was in Chicago,
as early as
the summer of 1944,
that a committee
of
atomic scientists
was formed
under
the chairmanship
of
Zay Jeffries,
who
in peacetime
had been
one of the directors
of
General Electric.
The committee
composed
a number of reports
on
the potentialities
and
perils
of
the new,
epoch-making
discoveries.
These reports
were submitted
to
General Groves
on
December 28, 1944,
under the title
of
"Nucleonic Prospects."
Independently
of this committee
Bohr
had,
since the beginning
of 1944,
been studying
the
political problems
involved
in
the discovery
of
the "new power."
The great Danish scholar
did not share
the
current optimism
with regard
to
the future relations
between
the chief partners
in the alliance
opposed
to the Axis.
He foresaw
that
there might be
friction
and
conflict
between
East and West
after the war.
Agreement
among
the
three great powers,
the United States,
Britain
and
Soviet Russia,
as to
common control
of
all applications
of
atomic energy
seemed
to Bohr
more easily attainable
before
completion
of
the atom bomb
or
its actual employment
in war.
[p. 171 - 173]
+++
It is
not generally known
that
the Pope
uttered a warning
against
the destructive use
of
atomic energy
in a speech
to
the
Pontifical Academy
of Science
on
February 21, 1943,
a date
at which
the
ordinary public
still
knew nothing
of
the atom bomb.
In April 1946
Monsignor Sheen
made
the following comment
on that speech:
"It is
to be noted
that
the Holy Father
not only
knew about
atomic energy
and
something of its power,
but he also,
exercising his office
as
Chief Shepherd
of
the Church,
asked the nations
of the world
never
to use it
destructively.
This counsel
was
not taken.
This
moral voice
was
unheeded."
[p. 174, footnote]
+++
General Groves,
for his part,
had
no doubt whatever
that
the bomb
would be used
for
war purposes
as soon as
it was ready.
[p. 176]
+++
...factories
had arisen
at
Oak Ridge
that were
longer than those
to be found
anywhere else
in
the United States.
Works inspectors
had to
use bicycles
to patrol them.
At Hanford
60,000 laborers
had built
one of the largest
chemical works
in the country.
At Los Alamos
seven divisions
were employed
on
the mysterious
"end product."
Literally thousands
of
new inventions
and
patents
had been developed
in the course
of the work.
The description
alone
of
the
most important
new processes
developed
at Hanford
would have
filled
thirty stout volumes.
Was
the
practical application
of
the result
of years
of
strenuous efforts
by
150,000 people,
the introduction
of
a weapon
that
had involved
the
expenditure
of
two billion dollars,
now
to be
voluntarily renounced?
General Groves
did not
even
trouble
to
discuss
the idea.
In his view
it was
too silly
to consider.
An
atomic scientist
who
was working
in
close contact
with him
at that time
states
that from 1945 on
Groves
gave
the impression
of
being obsessed
by
one intense fear,
that
the war
would be finished
before
his bomb
could be.
Accordingly,
even after
the
capitulation
of
Germany
he continued
to
exhort his collaborators
with
the incessant slogan:
We must not
lose
a single day.
[p. 177]
+++
It was
further resolved
that
four Japanese cities
should be
deliberately
spared bombardment
by
the
American formations
which
by 1945
could
reconnoiter
any target
they pleased
in Japan
with practically
no resistance.
This
deceptive period
of grace
was granted
these four cities
so they
could be
doomed
to a ruin
all the more
dreadful
by
the
new bomb.
On
the short list
of
targets
for
the atom bomb,
in addition
to
Hiroshima,
Kokura
and
Nigata,
was
the
Japanese city
of
temples,
Kyoto.
When the expert
on Japan,
Professor
Edwin O. Reischauer,
heard this
terrible news,
he rushed
into the office
of
his chief,
Major
Alfred MacCormack,
in
the department
of
the
Army Intelligence
Service.
The shock
caused him
to
burst into tears.
MacCormack,
a cultivated
and
humane
New York lawyer,
thereupon
managed
to persuade
Secretary of War
Stimson
to
reprieve Kyoto
and
have it
crossed off
the
black list.
[p. 178]
+++
[This one
following event
is
presented
out of sequence
in
the
source materials:]
On May 21, 1946,
not quitea year later,
Slotin
was
carrying out
an experiment,
similar to those
he had
so often
successfully
performed
in
the past.
It was
connected
with
the preparation
of
the
second
atom-bomb test,
to be
performed
in
the waters
of
the
South Sea atoll
of
Bikini.
Suddenly
his
screwdriver
slipped.
The hemispheres
came
too close together
and
the
material
became
critical.
The
whole room
was
instantly
filled
with
a
dazzling,
bluish
glare.
Slotin,
instead of
ducking
and
thereby
possibly
saving himself,
tore
the
two hemispheres
apart
with
his hands
and
thus interrupted
the
chain reaction.
By this action
he
saved the lives
of
the
seven other persons
in
the room.
He
had realized
at once
that
he himself
would be
bound to succumb
to
the effects
of
the excessive
radiation dose
which
he
had absorbed.
But
he
did not lose
his self-control
for
a moment.
He
told his colleagues
to
go and stand
exactly
where they had been
at
the instant
of
the disaster.
He then
drew
on
the
blackboard,
with
his own hand,
an
accurate sketch
of
their
relative positions,
so that
the doctors
could ascertain
the
degree of radiation
to which
each
of
those present
had been
exposed.
As he
was sitting
with
Al Graves,
the scientist who,
except himself ,
had been
most severely
infected
by
the radiation,
waiting
at the roadside
for the car
which
had been ordered
to
take them
to
the hospital,
he said quietly
to his companion:
"You'll
come through
all right.
But
I haven't
the
faintest chance
myself."
It was
only
too true.
Nine days later
the man
who had
experimentally
determined
the
critical mass
for
the first atom bomb
died
in
terrible agony.
[p. 195 - 196]
+++
And here,
we return to the days
BEFORE
the first atomic bombs
were completed.
+++
Some days
before
the first test
of
the bomb
it was
an open secret
in
Alamogordo,
even among
the
wives and children
of
the
Los Alamos scientists,
that
some
particularly important
and
exciting event
was
in preparation.
The test
was referred to
under
the code name
"Trinity."
No clear
explanation
has hitherto
been forthcoming
as to
why
this
blasphemous expression
was
employed,
above all
in
such a connection.
[p. 196 - 197]
+++
The question
whether
the
first complete atom bomb
would be
a "dud" or a success,
or,
as they said at Los Alamos,
a "girl" or a "boy",
aroused
such intense interest
that
it became the pretext
for
a
charming little game
with horror.
Lothar W. Nordheim,
an atomic physicist
who
had
once been a member
of
the old guard
of Gottingen,
relates:
"The scientists
at
Lost Alamos
had
a betting pool
before
the first test
of
July 16, 1945,
on
the size
of
the burst.
But
most estimates
were
too low
by far
except
for
one or two
wild
guesses."
[p. 197]
+++
After consultation
with
the
meteorological experts
it was
eventually
decided
to explode
the
experimental bomb
at
5:30 A.M.
At
ten minutes past five
Oppenheimer's deputy,
the atomic physicist
Saul K. Allison,
one of
the twenty people
in
the control room,
began
to
send out
time signals.
At
about the same time
Groves,
who had
by then
left the control point
and
returned
to the Base Camp,
something over
four miles
further back,
was giving
the
scientific personnel
waiting
at the Camp
their last instructions.
They were
to
put on
their sunglasses
and
lie down
on their faces
with
their heads
turned away.
For
it was considered
practically certain
that
anyone
who tried to observe
the flames
with
the naked eye
would be blinded.
During
the
ensuing period
of
waiting,
which seemed
an eternity,
hardly a word
was spoken.
Everyone
was
giving free play
to
his thoughts.
But so far as
those
who have
been asked
can remember,
these thoughts
were
not apocalyptic.
Most of the people
concerned,
it appears,
were trying to
work out
how long
it would be
before they could
shift
their
uncomfortable position
and
obtain some kind
of view
of
the
spectacle awaited.
Fermi,
experimental-minded
as ever,
was holding
scraps of paper,
with which
he meant to gauge
the air pressure
and
thereby
estimate the strength
of
the explosion
the moment
it occurred.
Frisch
was intent
on memorizing
the phenomenon
as precisely
as possible,
without allowing
either
excitement
or
preconceived notions
to
interfere
with
his faculties
of
perception.
Groves
was wondering
for
the hundredth time
whether
he had taken
every possible step
to
ensure
rapid evacuation
in
the case
of
a disaster.
Oppenheimer
oscillated
between
fears
that
the experiment
would fail
and
fears
that it would
succeed.
Then
everything
happened
faster
than
it could
be understood.
No one
saw
the first flash
of
the
atomic fire
itself.
It was
only possible
to
see
its
dazzling
white reflection
in
the sky
and
on
the hills.
Those
who then
ventured
to
turn their heads
perceived
a bright ball
of flame,
growing
steadily larger
and
larger.
"Good God,
I believe
that
the
long-haired boys
have
lost control!"
a senior officer
shouted.
Carson Mark,
one
of the most
brilliant members
of
the
Theoretical Division,
actually thought --
though
his intelligence
told him
the thing
was impossible --
that
the ball of fire
would
never stop growing
till it
had enveloped
all
heaven and earth.
At that moment
everyone
forgot
what he
had intended
to do.
Groves writes:
"Some of
the men
in their
excitement,
having had
three years
to get ready for it,
at the last minute
forgot
those
welders' helmets
and
stumbled out
of the cars
where
they were sitting.
They were
distinctly
blinded
for
two or three
seconds.
In that time
they lost
the view
of
what
they had been waiting
for over three years
to see."
People
were transfixed
with
fright
at
the power
of
the explosion.
Oppenheimer
was
clinging
to
one of the uprights
in
the control room.
A passage
from
the Bhagavad-Gita,
the
sacred epic
of
the Hindus,
flashed
into his mind.
If the radiance of a thousand suns
were to burst into the sky,
that would be like
the splendor of the Mighty One --
Yet,
when
the sinister
and
gigantic
cloud
rose up
in the far distance
over Point Zero,
he was
reminded
of
another line
from
the same source:
I am become Death,
the shatterer of worlds.
Sri Krishna,
the Exalted One,
lord
of the fate
of
mortals,
had uttered
the phrase.
But
Robert Oppenheimer
was only a man,
into whose hands
a mighty,
a
far too mighty,
instrument
of power
had been given.
It is
a striking fact
that
none of those
present
reacted
to
the phenomenon
as professionally
as
he had
supposed he would.
They all,
even those --
who constituted
the
majority --
ordinarily
without
religious faith
or
even
any inclination
thereto,
recounted
their experiences
in words
derived
from
the linguistic fields
of
myth
and
theology.
General Farrell,
for example,
states:
"The whole country
was
lighted
by
a searing light
with
an intensity
many times that
of
the midday sun ...
Thirty seconds
after
the
explosion
came,
first,
the air blast
pressing hard
against
the
people and things,
to be followed
almost immediately
by
the strong,
sustained,
awesome
roar
which warned
of
doomsday
and
made us feel
that we
puny things
were
blasphemous
to
dare tamper
with
the forces
heretofore
reserved
to
the Almighty.
Words
are inadequate tools
for
the job
of
acquainting those
not present
with
the physical,
mental
and
psychological effects.
It had
to be
witnessed
to be
realized."
Even
so cool
and
matter-of-fact
a person
as
Enrico Fermi
received
a profound shock,
in spite of
the retort
he had made
to
all the objections
of
his colleagues
to
the bomb
during
the discussions
of
the past few weeks.
He had
always said:
"Don't bother me
with
your
conscientious
scruples!
After all,
the thing's
superb physics!"
Never before
had
he allowed
anyone else
to
drive his car.
But on this occasion
he confessed
that
he
did not feel capable
of
sitting at the wheel
and
asked a friend
to
take it for him
on the road
back
to Los Alamos.
He told his wife,
the morning
after his return,
that it
had seemed to him
as if
the car
were
jumping
from
curve to curve,
skipping
the straight stretches
in
between.
It appears
that
General Groves
was
the first
to
regain
his composure.
He consoled
one of the scientists
who rushed up
to him
almost in tears,
announcing
that
the
unexpectedly
powerful explosion
had destroyed
all his
observation and measuring
instruments,
with the words:
"Well,
if the instruments
couldn't stand it,
the bang
must
certainly
have been
a
pretty big one.
And that,
after all,
was
what we
most wanted
to know."
To
General Farrell
he remarked:
"The war's over.
One or two
of
those things,
and
Japan
will be
finished."
The general public
was,
for the time being,
told nothing
about
this
first
world-shaking
atomic explosion.
Dwellers
near
the
experimental area
up to
a distance
of some 125 miles
had seen
an
unusually bright light
in the sky
about 5:30 A.M.
But they
were put
on
the wrong scent
by
the head of
the
Manhattan District
press agency,
Jim Moynahan,
who
sent
the false information
that
munitions depot
had blown up
in
the
Alamogordo region.
He added
that
no lives
had
been lost.
On the other hand
the
security authorities,
when they tried
to
restrict knowledge
of
the successful test
to
those
who had
taken part
in it,
failed
once more
in their object.
Within a few days
the scientists'
whispering campaign
had
carried the news
to
all
the
Manhattan Project
laboratories.
Harrison Brown,
one of
the younger men
on research
at
Oak Ridge,
recalls:
"We knew
about
the fireball,
the
mushroom cloud,
the
intense heat.
Following Alamogordo
many of us
signed
a petition
urging
that
the atomic bomb
should
not be used
against Japan
without
prior demonstration
and
opportunity
to
surrender.
And
we urged
that
the government
start immediately
to
study
the possibility
of
securing
international control
of
the
new weapon."
The petition
mentioned
by Brown
had been drafted
by
Szilard,
who,
after the failure
of his efforts
at
the White House
and
the
negative results
of
the Franck Report,
had decided
to
lead
a
last forlorn hope.
His idea
was
to collect
the
greatest possible
number
of
signatures
from
participants
in the
Manhattan Project
protesting
against
the use
of
the bomb.
When
a copy
of
the petition
came
into the hands
of
the director
of
the
Oak Ridge laboratory
he
at once
informed Groves
of
the movement.
It
would have been
difficult
for
the General
to
forbid
the men
on
research
to
sign
the document.
He
therefore
hit
on a different method
of
stopping
its further circulation.
Szilard's petition
was
declared
"secret".
And
the law stated
that
secret papers
could
only be taken
from
one place to another
under
military guard.
Thus
all Groves
had to do
was
to decree:
"Unfortunately,
we
cannot spare
any troops
for
the protection
of
this document.
Until
we can do so
it must be
kept
locked up."
In Chicago
the men
working
in the
Metallurgical Laboratory
were
growing
more and more
restless.
John A. Simpson,
a young physicist
who
took
a particularly active part
in the efforts
to
prevent
the bomb
being dropped ,
states:
"In June
an extensive
panel discussion
was held
within
the Laboratory
by
several
of
the younger scientists,
covering subjects
ranging
from
the ways
of
using the bomb
to
international controls.
Following
these discussions
the
military officials
refused to permit
more than
three people
to
enter into discussions
on
the problem
at
Laboratory meetings.
The scientists
then
resorted
to the
fantastic technique
of
holding meetings
in
a small room,
where
a succession
of
about twenty people
would,
one at a time,
enter
to discuss
these problems
with
a panel
of
two or three
scientists
selected
for
the evening."
Excitement ran
so high
in Chicago
that
eventually
the Director,
A. H. Compton,
had
a vote taken,
through
his deputy,
Farrington Daniels,
who
put
the
following questions:
Which
of
the
following procedures
comes closest
to
your choice
as
the way
in which
any
new weapon
that we
might develop
should be used
in
the
Japanese war?
(1) Use them
in the manner
that is
from
the military
point of view
most effective
in bringing about
prompt
Japanese surrender
at
minimum cost
to
our own
armed forces
(23 votes, i.e., 15 per cent).
(2) Give
a military demonstration
in
Japan,
to be followed
by
a renewed opportunity
for
surrender
before
full use
of
the weapon
(69 votes, i.e., 46 per cent).
(3) Give
an
experimental
demonstration
in
this country
with
representatives
of
Japan
present
followed by
a
new opportunity
for
surrender
before
full use
of the weapon
(39 votes, i.e., 26 per cent).
(4) Withhold
military use
of
the weapons
but
make public
experimental
demonstration
of
their effectiveness
(16 votes, i.e., 11 per cent).
(5) Maintain
as secret
as possible
all developments
of
our new weapons
and
refrain
from using them
in
this war
(3 votes, i.e., 2 per cent).
Unfortunately
the voting,
in which
150 persons
participated,
took place
without
any
previous debate.
Consequently,
the greatest number
of votes,
69,
were cast
for
the second alternative,
suggesting
a
military demonstration
in
Japan.
But
after
the first two bombs
had
been dropped
on
the
center
of the town
of
Hiroshima
and
on
Nagasaki
most
of
the 69 voters
explained
that
they had
taken
a "military
demonstration
in Japan"
to mean
an attack
on
purely military
objectives,
not
on
targets
occupied also,
in fact mainly,
by
civilians.
[p. 199 - 204]
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