Don't call them bombs

The first Hydrogen device fired, in 1952, was called "Mike", part of Operaton Ivy, and it completely vaporized the island of Elugelab in the Enewetak Atoll. First there was an island, then there was a crater where the island used to be. The excited message sent to Eisenhower was "The island of Elugelab is missing!" Oh goody!

This was a great triumph for the scientists and military personnel at the time, because it was the first test of the Teller-Ulam design which combined a fission trigger with the cryogenic deuterium–tritium fusion fuel, and proved that it could be done. Plutonium was the ignitor and combined with Uranium to provide the radiation, which made enough heat to set off the fusion bomb. A cryogenics plant was built on Parry Island in the Enewetak Atoll to make the hydrogen fuel "package".

The government called the bombs "shots" or "tests" and, unbelievably, they gave them all names, like Mike, George, Bravo, Romeo, Nectar, and others.

I read one serviceman's account of this time talking about how they would gather on the beach to watch the test - this was history in the making and the mushroom cloud produced from the blast was awe-inspiring in its power and beauty; they were told to turn their backs, close their eyes, draw up their knees, fold their arms over their knees, and put their heads on their arms. (does this sound familiar to anyone?). After the blast they could then turn around to see the mushroom cloud.

Looking back at it now, it seems impossibly naive that they never considered that the effects of radiation would not be deterred by simply turning their backs and closing their eyes.

Blast from the Past

One day my cousin Deena Sue called me - I hadn't spoken to her in probably 25 years. She wanted to tell me about a program set up by Congress to provide reparation to employees or their descendants of a company called Holmes & Narver. This company had a government contract in the Pacific Proving Ground for the Atomic Energy Commission's testing of hydrogen bombs in the fifties. My grandfather, a refrigeration expert, was an independent contractor hired by Holmes & Narver, along with many other civilians, to provide various services on the Marshall Islands for the military and scientific communities working on these thermonuclear devices.

I have always remembered the name of the island he lived and worked on because it was an unusual and, to me, beautiful name: Enewetak - pronounced "an-a-wee-tock". I never knew about the bomb testing, I just remember him talking about how beautiful and how terribly hot it was - and how well paid he was. My mother had a photograph of him on the beach in nothing but shorts and zories, wearing a baseball cap and aviator sunglasses. This all occurred before I was born, I was a kid listening to his memories about what sounded like a paradisiacal time and place.

Now my cousin was telling me that all those men, along with the native islanders, were exposed to ionizing radiation....which caused - you guessed it - cancer.
So, being the curious person I am I started researching this cold war phenomenon of developing thermonuclear devices in a race to beat the Russians to a deliverable (could be dropped from a plane) bomb.

Stay tuned for more!

Tools for Blogging

"One critical consideration when launching a blog is what you are going to call it."--Chris Garrett

First of all, I love quotes. Second of all, I love titles: if I ever write the poems, stories, books for which I have titles, I'll be too busy to write this blog.

So the naming was important. Since I am a huge fan of the defunct SciFi tv show "Firefly", I chose one of my favorite lines by a character in that show. "I am a leaf on the wind, watch how I soar," or close enough for rock and roll.