Originally, as I have said, we had intended to set up the semi-works for the plutonium process in the Argonne Forest outside Chicago, and to locate all full-scale production facilities at the Tennessee site. This arrangement was basically sound. It placed the semi-works close to the laboratory carrying on the scientific research and development. It avoided the mistake of putting the people in charge of the full-scale plant too near to the laboratory researchers. Whenever this is done, there is a tendency to incorporate into the final plant every new idea before it has been thoroughly tested.
However, it soon developed that the possible hazards from the plutonium process, many of which we were unable to assess accurately, were far too great to warrant operating the semi-works in the Argonne woods. We decided, therefore, to build it at Oak Ridge, which was not too distant from either Chicago or Wilmington.
There was much discussion about who should operate the Clinton semi-works. Obviously it should be either the University of Chicago or the du Pont Company. Chicago University did not want the responsibility because it was so far removed from its other activities. Du Pont did not want it because of its complete lack of knowledge and experience with processes of this nature. Furthermore, the company felt that until it was demonstrated that the process was operable on a semi-works scale, responsibility for its development should remain with the scientists.
After considerable pressure had been brought to bear upon both, the University of Chicago finally agreed to take on the job and du Pont agreed to lend them a sufficient number of supervisors, technicians and clerical personnel experienced in plant operations to make the effort surer of success.
The solution to this problem characterizes the co-operativeness of all those who were concerned with the project. This was a major factor in our success. Virtually every organization that became involved in our work would have preferred to avoid it, but never once were individual preferences permitted to interfere with wholehearted co-operation. On the other hand, no one ever failed to come forward with his views when he considered them to be important to the success of the project.
When du Pont took on the plutonium project in November, Carpenter had suggested that, for safety’s sake, it might prove desirable to locate the production plant elsewhere than at the Tennessee site. I accepted his proposal with almost no discussion, for if we built it at Oak Ridge, we would have to take about 75,000 additional acres of land. Moreover, by now we knew it would require a great deal of electric power and power would soon be in short supply in Tennessee. Besides that, I was more than a little uneasy myself about the possible danger to the surrounding population. The Clinton site at Oak Ridge was not far from Knoxville, and while I felt that the possibility of serious danger was small, we could not be absolutely sure; no one knew what might happen, if anything, when a chain reaction was attempted in a large reactor. If because of some unknown and unanticipated factor a reactor were to explode and throw great quantities of highly radioactive materials into the atmosphere when the wind was blowing toward Knoxville, the loss of life and the damage to health in the area might be catastrophic. Moreover, the interruption of important war production, particularly of aluminum, and the disruption of all normal living conditions would be a serious blow to our nation’s military effort. It would wipe out all semblance of security in the project and would bring our work to a jarring halt, from which it would take many years, if not decades, to recover. If our electromagnetic and gaseous diffusion plants were working by then, they would probably be rendered inoperable. And it undoubtedly and quite properly would have resulted in a Congressional investigation to end all Congressional investigations.
I mention this last consideration only because, while we never gave any serious thought to it, it did give rise to a number of jokes during an otherwise deadly serious effort. I knew, as did Bush and Conant, as well as the President, Secretary Stimson, General Marshall and General Somervell, that if we were not successful, there would be an investigation that would be as explosive as the anticipated atomic bomb. Once, in 1944, Somervell told me with a perfectly straight face, at least for the moment: “I am thinking of buying a house about a block from the Capitol. The one next door is for sale and you had better buy it. It will be convenient because you and I are going to live out our lives before Congressional committees.”
We could not afford to spend time on the research and study that would have been necessary to make certain that the operation of the full-scale plutonium installation at Clinton would be safe, as we know now it would have been. By this time, too, I was getting a better perspective on the size of the entire job, and I did not think that it would be wise, or even possible, to conduct such a tremendous effort in a single area.
Consequently, on December 14—twelve days after Fermi’s dramatic proof that a controlled chain reaction was possible—I arranged for a meeting at the du Pont offices in Wilmington to ensure that the du Pont organization, the scientific people at Chicago and the MED would all have the same understanding of the then-accepted atomic theories, the known scientific and technical facts, the scientific probabilities, and the construction and operating problems. After reaching a common understanding, they were to arrive at the criteria for the plutonium plant site, with special attention to the limitations imposed by safety. The site requirements (based on helium-cooled reactors), which all agreed upon, definitely ruled out any further thought of putting the plant at Clinton and were the controlling guides in the ultimate selection of the Hanford site.
These requirements were:
These specifications were far from fixed, and would be changed as our knowledge increased. They were based on what we knew at the time, which was very little indeed. They were intentionally quite conservative. Thus, they provided for the accidental explosion of a pile, although this was considered only a remote possibility, even in that early period. Yet, though far from final, they were all we had to go on in choosing our site and determining the layout and construction of the plant.
The discussion soon brought out the fact that one of the controlling factors, as far as the size of the manufacturing area was concerned, would be the number of piles we would need. Until we learned just what would be required we planned a layout for six production piles and three chemical separation plants, though the best guess at the time was that we probably would not need more than four piles and two separation plants. Of these four piles, three would be in operation, with one in reserve. The operating cycle would be three months under power, followed by one month to unload and to reload the uranium in the pile. The piles did not have to be separated by any great distance—between three-quarters of a mile and a mile would be sufficient—but the separation plants should be at least four miles from each other as well as from any pile.
Although we were hoping for a thermal generating capacity of 250,000 kw for each reactor, we based our over-all design on 200,000. If our theories proved to be correct—and not all of them did—and if we could design and operate in accordance with them, this would provide a rate of plutonium production that we hoped would let us turn out a reasonable number of bombs in time to be of use. But, as I have already said, no one knew then just how much plutonium or U-235 would be required for an effective bomb; the most reliable estimates varied by a hundredfold from the minimum to the maximum. Never in history has anyone embarking on an important undertaking had so little certainty about how to proceed as we had then.
Incidentally, the same uncertainty obtained in nearly every phase of our work. However, with the agreement of everyone who held any degree of responsibility for the project, I had decided almost at the very beginning that we would have to abandon completely all normal, orderly procedures in the development of the production plants. We would go ahead with their design and construction as fast as possible, even though we would have to base our work on the most meager laboratory data. Nothing like this had ever been attempted before, but with time as the controlling factor we could not afford to wait to be sure of anything. The great risks involved in designing, constructing and operating plants such as these without extensive laboratory research and semi-works experience simply had to be accepted.
I did not attend the meeting in Wilmington myself, but sent Nichols and Lieutenant Colonel F. T. Matthias as my representatives. Matthias was not then assigned to the MED. However, I had been using him on a part-time basis to work on various problems involved in the Pentagon’s construction and on a few special studies for the MED. From the latter, he had gained some concept of the scope and purpose of the project. I had instructed him to attend this meeting solely as an observer and, on his return, to give me his reactions to the discussion, the decisions and the people there. I told him that I was especially interested in the people.
When Matthias came back to Washington after the meeting, he was surprised to find me waiting for him at the railroad station. I drove him to his home in my car. During our ride of some twenty minutes, he gave me his impressions, and I then told him to start the next morning on a study of areas where there might be enough power for the plutonium plant. Two days later, I met with the site selection team, which now consisted of Matthias and A. E. S. Hall and Gilbert P. Church, of du Pont. We went over the requirements that had been worked out in Wilmington and considered the locations that would most nearly meet them. From many years of travel throughout the country, both as the son of an Army officer and as an officer myself, and particularly through the experience I had gained the past two years when I was head of military construction operations in the United States, I was quite familiar with most of the general areas in which the plutonium plant could be located. This, added to the information gathered by Matthias and that which had been put together by du Pont, enabled us to determine pretty well the most promising site areas before the team left Washington that afternoon.
At the head of the list, and the most likely prospect, was an area about thirty miles south of the site finally chosen at Hanford. A second possible choice was quite close to Grand Coulee Dam. Beyond these two, our prospects seemed dim. The two remaining most likely prospects appeared to lie in northern California, with power from Shasta Dam, and in southern California, with power from Boulder Dam. I made it clear to the selection team that I very much preferred the Pacific Northwest area, not only because of the availability of power from Bonneville and Grand Coulee, but because of the open winters and the long, dry, not excessively hot summers, which would permit uninterrupted construction throughout the year. During their inspection, they were to take full advantage of any knowledge, advice and assistance obtainable from the various Army District Engineer offices concerned. To facilitate this, I telephoned Colonel Richard Park, the District Engineer in Seattle, that afternoon and asked for his co-operation, for the areas in which we were most interested lay in his district.
Although they were unaware of it, my purpose in sending Matthias and the du Pont men out together to inspect the sites was to make certain that Matthias and Church, both of whom I considered truly superior, would work well together. Church had been tentatively selected by du Pont as the construction head for the job. I had originally intended to use Matthias as my executive officer in Washington, but had since decided, in accordance with Colonel Marshall’s request, to put him in charge at the plutonium plant, for I was much more interested in having that job adequately covered than I was in keeping the best available man in my office.
During the site reconnaissance, it was Matthias’ responsibility to see that my wishes were carried out, just as it was the responsibility of Hall and Church to make certain that nothing was overlooked from du Pont’s standpoint. Matthias made all the necessary arrangements with the military authorities throughout the trip; Church and Hall were introduced as civilian employees from the Office of the Chief of Engineers because, for security reasons, we did not want to stir up undue curiosity, which the knowledge that du Pont was involved might have done.
For two weeks the reconnaissance party scoured the West from Washington to the Mexican border, and arrived back in my office on New Year’s Eve, unanimously enthusiastic about the Hanford area. An important factor in their choice was the discovery that the high-voltage power line from Grand Coulee to Bonneville ran through the site and that there was a substation at its edge. Reinforcing the group’s good opinion of Hanford was the fact that the next best site had been recently converted to an aerial gunnery range, and to have taken it over would have drawn undue attention to our work.
The members of the group took about an hour to give me their verbal report, and then went their several ways. They had already finished writing their formal report while traveling and in hotel rooms at night.
The real estate appraisal, which is always an important part of government condemnation procedures, was started on January 7, 1943. I went over the site on January 16, and approved it. I was pleased with the relatively small amount of cultivated land we would have to take over. Most of the area was sagebrush suitable only for driving sheep to and from summer pastures in the mountains and even for that purpose could not be used oftener than once in several years. The total population was small and most of the farms did not appear to be of any great value.
Hanford was then a very small town. It may have had two small general stores, but I recall only the one where we stopped to buy some crackers for lunch. The principal deterrent to the development of this area had been that all irrigation water had to be brought in from a point twelve miles away, and consequently was so expensive that the average agricultural venture could not succeed. There were some orchards of cherries and apricots and a few farms had large flocks of turkeys. There was also one farm, not in Hanford proper, but on the over-all reservation, where mint was raised. And mint, because of the war, had attained a very high price. One ranch across the Columbia River seemed quite attractive, but it was not particularly large. Most of the farms in the area, however, conveyed the distinct impression that the owners were having a pretty hard time making them pay.
The soil appeared to be mostly sand and gravel, which is almost ideal for heavy construction. The plateau on which the plant would be built was only a few miles from the Columbia River, which had a superabundance of very pure and quite cold water. The site was well isolated from near-by communities, the largest of which was the town of Pasco, and if an unforeseen disaster should occur, we would be able to evacuate the inhabitants by truck.
On February 8, the Secretary of War’s formal directive was issued, authorizing the acquisition of the necessary land. Direct responsibility for the acquisition of the site was vested in the Corps of Engineers.
In setting up the land requirements we divided the area into three sections. The first of these, where the plant was to be located, was taken over by the government and was cleared of all persons who were not directly connected with the operation of the plant. The rest of the land was needed to ensure safety.
The second section was also taken over by the government, but certain portions of it could be leased by the original owners if they so desired, or by the adjacent property owners. The only stipulation here was that no one would be allowed to live on this land.
The third section was either purchased in its entirety and then leased back to the former owners, or easements were obtained, giving the government certain rights, particularly that of evicting any inhabitant at any time without warning and without having to give any reason. In all these real estate activities, there was the definite understanding that there would be no abnormal increase in the population. Of course, this did not mean that a family could not have another child, or that a farmer could not hire an additional hand. It did mean, though, that no one could open up any new operation like a tourist court or a camping ground. Our purpose here was to avoid complications in case the area had to be evacuated. This third section of the tract caused us much trouble before we were through with it.
The Hanford site was one of the largest procurements of land handled during the war, or at any other time. The total acreage taken was something less than a half-million acres.
The suitability and the exact boundaries of the site were studied as thoroughly as time permitted during January. It was essential that there be no afterthoughts, for once the actual purchasing or condemnation of a particular parcel of land was started, it would be confusing and expensive to make changes.
As we learned more about how the plant would probably operate, we became concerned over the possible effect of air stratification and other meteorological conditions on the dilution of the various waste gases. For this reason, and to avoid any future discussions, we insisted that the site must have the definite approval of the Metallurgical Laboratory.
There was one serious mistake made in our handling of the land procurement. From my first inspection, I knew that we would not have to occupy much of the area until the crops could be brought in the following summer, for we would need most of the intervening period for drawing plans and obtaining materials and mobilizing our working forces. We had no plans; we did not know what the plans would be like; we had to start from the very beginning, and it would be a long time before construction would really get under way. Because of this, I felt that we should not ask for possession of land under cultivation immediately. It would have been perfectly proper for us to do so and the condemnation could have been put through without any particular trouble. But I felt that it was only fair to give the owners plenty of time to settle their affairs and get relocated and, besides that, by withholding any immediate action we would give the farmers another crop-growing season in support of the war effort.
Actually my decision in this case cost the government a considerable amount of money, for reasons I did not foresee. Growing conditions that spring and early summer proved to be astoundingly good, so that the crops were better than they had been at almost any time since farming began in that area, and were extremely profitable to the growers. When it came time for the courts to settle the land values, the juries decided on much higher values than had been anticipated, or, in our opinion, were fair.
Compounding the problem was the fact that the juries were almost exclusively from Yakima, which was the center of a very rich agricultural section. Land values there were far greater than in Hanford, and it was only natural for any Yakima jury to think of farming at Hanford in terms of their own highly productive land. This bad situation was made virtually impossible by the attitude of the federal judge before whom the cases were tried. For reasons known only to him, he allowed the juries to feel that the government was not coming into these cases with clean hands, and that the whole proceeding was a means whereby the government could condemn private land for the contractor.
Despite every effort we could not stem the tide, and the government had to pay what I have always thought were exorbitant prices for the land.
Long before all this confusion in the courtroom began, the first du Pont employee, an engineer named Les Grogan, arrived in Hanford on February 28, 1943.