Countdown to Atomgeddon: The Race to Build the First Atomic Bomb

By Xlibris US

The story leading to the development and the first test of the atomic bomb is a complicated study in human endeavor under strict security and secrecy. During the later months of World War II in Europe, there was a growing concern that many of the scientists in Germany were in the process of developing a similar weapon that the United States was developing and eventually tested and deployed to end the war in the Pacific arena. Many scientists immigrated to other countries including the United States from Germany due to the forced Third Reich emigration policy. One German physicist in particular was helping to develop the weapon for the Third Reich. His name was Dr. Werner Heisenberg. There was speculation after the war had ended, and Dr. Heisenberg had died, that he had intentionally slowed the progress of the bombs development for Germany for fear that Hitler would attempt to dominate the rest of the world with its use. Information of the development on both sides of the war was apparently available even with the strict secrecy concerning the weapon through the use of spies. Many spies and informants were found on both sides of the conflict to include Russia. It was rumored that both Russia and Germany had informants working alongside the American scientists in Los Alamos and were responsible in helping Germany and Russia develop a weapon. Eventually, the German weapon was not completed as the Third Reich was more intent on developing rockets, jet engines, and was defeated in early May of 1945. Russia was second to develop a weapon and test-fired it in 1949. That was the beginning of the nuclear arms race. This book is written with the intent to show the humanistic side of the race to develop the first atomic bomb and, as accurately as possible, describe the local and regional implications of the bomb. Most characters are fictitious, and some of interviews are invented, but most of the details are summaries of many articles and books written about the bomb; and without their help, this book would not have been written. There may not have been a conspiracy to slow the progress in developing the American bomb, but most of the facts lead the writer to believe there was at least one. The brilliance of the leading military general in directing the Manhattan Project cannot be denied and was proven many times. Without his direct and indirect intervention in the project, it is conceivable that the world may now be speaking German. The conspiracy featured in this book could very well have been General Groves most effective ruse in the race. Jumbo was created as a simple cover for the test bomb, but many of the spies and saboteurs were led to believe that Jumbo was the test bomb and effectively directed attention away from the real bomb at Trinity Site.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Sep 9, 2014
• ISBN: 9781499064391

Book preview

Chapter 2

Blake Hears of the Accident

Blake’s radio was tuned to KOB in Albuquerque and a great song by Glenn Miller when an announcer interrupted the broadcast to make an announcement. An accident had occurred on the railroad south of Belen that involved a military convoy. He went on to say that a flatbed railcar carrying a large piece of military hardware had fallen from the railcar and had landed in an arroyo (Spanish for dry streambed) over which the railroad twisted through the Rio Grande bosque. Blake guessed that they must have been heading toward El Paso to Fort Bliss or maybe to the Alamogordo Bombing and Gunnery Range. Blake thought none of his business; he needed to meet Commissioner de Vaca, but maybe there was a story there. The accident was about thirty miles from his current location, and he decided to check it out. The commissioner will still be in office tomorrow. Before the music continued on his radio, the announcer said a large crowd had gathered at the accident site and recommended avoiding the area. As Blake approached Socorro, another olive drab suburban passed moving very fast. This one also contained more soldiers. Something is happening, Blake thought. They must be heading to the Belen accident. He was just a couple miles from Socorro when he decided to call in to the office to let them know where he was and where he was headed. Brandon Carr picked up the call. The editor had also heard of the accident; he was surprised and a little upset that Blake wasn’t at the accident site already. Brandon continued by telling him of his visitors from CID. What’s that? Blake asked. Brandon explained that CID stood for Criminal Investigation Division of the army and the purpose of their visit concerned Blake’s article on heavy water. He then asked why Blake was not covering the accident in Belen. Blake said he was on his way, but Brandon was still picking battles with Blake. Why aren’t you there already? Get the story and get back here with it, pronto. Luckily Blake ran out of nickels, and there was static on the line created by his scratching on the wall next to the phone booth. He was able to hang up the phone without upsetting Brandon too badly although Brandon was not through talking. Blake thought, He’ll get over it when I show him my Heisenberg article. As he replaced the receiver, a convoy of military vehicles came roaring down the main street of Socorro headed in the direction of Belen. Didn’t appear to be much concern in downtown Socorro. There were a few residents on the street, but none paid any attention the convoy or where they were going, just more military activity at the bombing range. Who cares? They were getting used to seeing more military traffic since the start of the war in Europe. Some of the new residents in town used to be ranchers and cowhands in the area now called the Alamogordo Bombing and Gunnery Range. Their land had been taken from them by the army and were not sure if they were ever going to get it back. In 1942, many of the ranchers located south and east of the little town of San Antonio were told to lease their land to the government as part of the war effort in Europe and the Pacific. No definite time to be have their land returned to them. Much of the growth of Socorro was the sudden influx of ranchers and their families. The ranchers were not happy to have lost their lands, but the war effort made it necessary. Blake decided to follow the convoy as it moved past the square in downtown Socorro. The convoy was moving above the posted speed limit as it approached the only arroyo in town. Normally not an issue, but it had been sprinkling in Socorro and raining hard in the mountains west of town. The arroyo is on the stretch of highway 85 leading to Belen, and the convoy was heading for it without knowing whether water was high in the arroyo or not. There was water in the arroyo to about hubcap height on tires, but flowing fast. The locals knew better than to try passing through the water for fear that they might be swept into the Rio Grande and end up in Elephant Butte Lake at Truth or Consequences. The local traffic had stopped on either side of the arroyo waiting for the water to recede. Several local kids were gathered at the elevated walkway watching the rushing water as it made its way to the Rio Grande. The locals did not trust crossing the arroyo in high water, but the military vehicles had no reservation in passing through at high speed spraying water over the walkway above the arroyo to the delight of the kids. Blake had to stop following the convoy as there was a traffic jam on either side of the arroyo of locals fearing the high water. Blake returned to downtown to Dan Berries gas station on south California Street to get some gas that was on special for nineteen cents and waste a little time before proceeding to Belen, just waiting for the water to recede. Blake was stuck; he could just sit in his car listening to the radio or go to the Coronado Bar for a beer and grab a sandwich and just wait for the water to recede. The accident will just have to wait. He thought about the local trick of trading car keys with someone on the other side of the arroyo to allow both parties to continue with their business, but he did not recognize anyone on the opposite side he trusted with his car. He decided to just wait. The water finally receded, and local business continued as usual. Blake was now able to continue his trip to Belen. He busied himself by reading the advertising signs on highway 85. There were the Burma-Shave signs, He Lit a Match, To Check, The Gas Tank, That’s Why, They Call Him, Hairless Frank! There was the ad for the new Tourist Court in Socorro, another for Socorro Hardware, and several drink signs, Coke, Pepsi, Orange Crush, Grapette, and RC Cola. More signs past Lemitar were Pall Mall, Lucky Strike, Chesterfield, and Camels. Blake was surprised by the size of the crowd at the accident scene just off the highway. The New Mexico State Police were there in force while the Belen local police had responded with their whole department, both cars. The interesting thing was that none of the police or the newly arrived railroad repair personnel could gain access to the scene due to all the military vehicles and military security personnel that had surrounded the site. The only civilian personnel allowed to the site were the emergency personnel working to help any injured passengers or railroad personnel. It appeared that there was one fatality, a military guard supposedly crushed by the device rolling over him as it left the railcar, but thankfully, just one injured civilian taken to the Belen hospital. The accident involved a large covered device shaped like a thermos bottle that had rolled off the large flatbed railcar as it maneuvered around a curve. The identification of the flatbed railcar showed to be owned and operated by the Eichleay Corporation of Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. Blake thought he recognized the company as an engineering and equipment moving company. The scene was mass confusion. Groups of people representing the state and local police and the military security personnel keeping all civilians away from the cargo now resting in the sand of the dry arroyo. The flatbed railcar with more wheels than he could count was upright and apparently undamaged, but the load it was carrying was about twenty yards away lying in the dry arroyo. Luckily this arroyo was dry as they usually are this time of year, but time was of the essence since it had begun to rain in the mountains west of the accident and water would soon be rising in the arroyo where their cargo rested.

Employees of the Eichleay Company were frantic to do something. It was their responsibility to deliver the large piece of military hardware and the security personnel were in their way. The moving detail for the cargo also came with its own large crane which they put to work when the military security finally gave them clearance. The crane began trying to reload their cargo before it was washed away in the rain runoff from the mountains above. In the meantime, many of the military and security officers began building a diversion dam around the cargo to prevent it from either getting wet or being washed away downstream and into the Rio Grande. Several civilians in the crowd tried to help but were pushed back, and the work remained in the hands security and military personnel. What is that thing? Blake heard several in the crowd asking. One of the Eichleay Company employees overheard the question and responded, Not sure what it is, but was built by Babcock and Wilson of Barberton, Ohio. That seemed to satisfy the person asking the question, but one of the CID agents approached the Eichleay employee and asked that he leave the detail moving the device. He explained that the information was classified and a breach of security and the CID agent then asked the state police to escort the Eichleay employee from the scene. Blake exclaimed, Wow, there is some serious security around that thing. There appeared to be no communication between the military or police concerning the accident, and there would be none with the public that congregated at the site just asking questions. So much security. Blake was wondering what will happen to the Eichleay employee who was asked to leave the scene. More citizens vocalized their questions about the cargo. Guesses from the crowd ranged from weird to weirder. Most of the attention was directed at the overturned cargo resting on its side in the sand. Where are you taking that thing? Why is it covered in canvas? Is it a big bomb? Is it dangerous or will it possibly explode? No answer was forthcoming from any of the military personnel especially since the Eichleay employee was told to leave the scene, and there would be no communications coming from the Eichleay personnel after losing one of their best hands. One gentleman in khakis and white sweater approached the crowd with a megaphone and introduced himself as the information officer from Sandia army base in Albuquerque. His statement was brief and to the point. Thank you all for your concern and help at the scene of the accident. We are sad to say we lost one of our guards in the accident. We are hoping there are no more injuries to civilians or military personnel. As soon as we can reload our cargo, we will be on our way out of the area and toward our destination. Thanks again for your concern and help: please take your time going home and have a great day. Blake thought it was a great example of communication between the military snobs and the rest of the world of unworthy commoners. So much security. Most of the crowd began to move away from the site, but Blake took a few pictures and asked a few questions, possibly to report to Brandon at the office. It could be a story. A gentleman in a black suit and tie approached Blake and asked him to step into another area where they could talk. Two other gentlemen followed to an area behind one of the military vehicles. The gentleman introduced himself by name, which Blake immediately forgot, but then he said he was an agent with the CID. Who are you and where are you from? Have you taken pictures of the site? he asked. Blake gave him his name and occupation, but that didn’t appease the man. The CID agent recognized the name of the journalists that had published the article on heavy water. The agent reminded Blake that he could not print anything about this accident as it is military hardware. He then asked Blake to give him his camera—then he took it, just as Blake was about to politely comply with his request. As he was about to open the back of the camera to expose the film, Blake assured him that there were no pictures of importance in the camera. He opened the back of the camera anyway, exposing his film and politely returned it. At the advice of the agent and his buddies, Blake got back into his trusty green 1941 Ford Coupe and returned to Socorro to his favorite watering hole on the square to lick his wounded pride. He was disappointed that he might have had a good story there for the Mountain Mail but decided to give the information to his editor anyway. Blake thought he might have handled the situation better, but he was within his rights to the questions and pictures. Except that the piece of military hardware was obviously classified. The guys in black suits did not identify themselves by name, or Blake could not remember them, or he could possibly report their behavior to someone, but he didn’t know anyone to call, except Vivian with the local police, and she was mad at him. Wartime situations like this would not get much attention by local police anyway. Blake was concerned that the CID agents were the same that had visited with Brandon Carr regarding his heavy water article and that he was developing a bias toward trying to publish classified