August 1 came and passed; the weather was not favorable over Japan and LeMay did not think that it would be wise to undertake the mission under those conditions. The six crews that might be used were given special instructions on the procedures they were to follow, and at another briefing on August 4, Parsons explained the effects they could expect when the bomb exploded. Most of them knew by now that they were dealing with a special type of bomb, but Parsons’ statement that the force of the explosion would be equivalent to that of twenty thousand tons of TNT came as a complete surprise.
During the period of waiting, the special air-sea rescue plans were settled. They emphasized that no other aircraft would be permitted within fifty miles of the target during a period of from four hours before until six hours after strike time. Not even for rescue operations would this restriction be lifted. Special air-sea rescue facilities were to be provided by both Army and Navy planes and by submarines, and in spite of the necessary restrictions we had placed upon it, rescue coverage in this operation would be far better than average.
In my discussions with Arnold and LeMay and in my instructions to Farrell, I had made it plain that on this first flight it was essential for us to be able to talk to Parsons afterward no matter whether the flight was a success or not, and particularly essential if it was unsuccessful. It was extremely important that we should know exactly what had happened. I added that aside from this consideration, while the lives of the men in these planes were precious, they were no more so than those of any other plane crew.
Other air attacks on Japan were to be carried out on the same day as our mission, to divert any Japanese defense actions that might endanger our operation. Hiroshima would be the primary target, with Kokura Arsenal and Kokura the secondary targets, and Nagasaki the tertiary target. The aiming point for Hiroshima was close to the Japanese Army Headquarters.
Hiroshima was a highly important military objective. The Army Headquarters was located in a castle. Some 25,000 troops were in its garrison. It was the port through which all supplies and communications passed from Honshu to Kyushu. It was the largest city, excepting Kyoto, that was still undamaged by American air raids. Its population was believed to be over 300,000, and it was a beehive of war industry, carried on in moderate-sized plants and in small shops as well as in almost every home.
We would use a total of seven planes. One would be sent to Iwo Jima to serve as a spare in case the bomb-carrying plane developed mechanical troubles on the flight from Tinian. Three planes would go ahead, one to each target area, to appraise the local weather and to relay the information back to the bomb-carrying plane, which would be accompanied by two observer planes to the general vicinity of the target. One of these carried special measuring and recording instruments, including some that would be dropped near the target to radio back their readings.
Radar was to be used as an aid but the actual bombing was to be accomplished visually. If this proved to be impossible, the bomb was to be brought back, probably to Iwo Jima, as the plane’s gas supply might not permit the return to Tinian. We were anxious to avoid having it come down at other air bases, for in case of a landing accident we wanted personnel on the ground who would be aware of the special precautions that would have to be taken.
These arrangements were complicated, but not difficult for an organization that had been as carefully organized and trained as the 509th Group. Provisions were also made for the strike photographs to be taken by the 3rd Photo Reconnaissance Squadron and two photo crews were briefed on their assignment by the 509th’s intelligence officers.
On the morning of the fifth, there were indications that the weather would be good on the following day. Since we needed twenty-four hours’ notice before take-off so that the bomb could be assembled and checked out, LeMay confirmed that the mission would probably take place on August 6. Immediately after assembly, the Little Boy was placed on its trailer enshrouded in canvas for concealment and moved to the loading pit, from which it was raised into the B-29. The final tests were run and the bomb was ready for the take-off by the early evening of the fifth.
Until the moment of take-off the aircraft and the bomb within it remained under the continuous surveillance of security guards and representatives of the various key technical groups. A final briefing was conducted at midnight. Then came a preflight breakfast, followed by religious services, and the bomb was airborne.
The pilot of the Enola Gay—the B-29 that flew the mission—was Colonel Tibbets; Major Thomas Ferebee was the bombardier; Captain Parsons was the weaponeer; and Lieutenant Morris Jepson was the electronics test officer.
Because of the many technical details involved it was essential that there be no possible confusion as to responsibilities. For this reason Norstad, as Chief of Staff, had written to the Commanding General XXI Bomber Command on May 29, 1945:
“In actual delivery it is desired that the B-29 airplane which carries the bomb also carry two military officer specialists. The senior officer specialist will be qualified by familiarity with the design, development and tactical features of the bomb, to render final judgment in the event that an emergency requires deviation from the tactical plan.”
Parsons had decided with Farrell’s approval to complete the final assembly of the bomb after takeoff. His purpose was to minimize the hazards of a crash on Tinian. I had previously said that I was opposed to this as unwise, because it was unnecessary and because it would be very difficult to do it in cramped conditions in the plane. I was not informed of the plan until it was too late to interfere.
The progress of the mission against Hiroshima is well described in the log which Parsons kept during the flight.
6 August 1945 02451 take-off
0300 started final loading of gun
0315 finished loading
0605 headed for Empire from Iwo
0730 red plugs in2
0741 started climb. Weather report received that weather over primary and tertiary targets was good but not over secondary target
0838 leveled off at 32,700 feet
0847 electronic fuses were tested and found to be O.K.
0904 course west
0909 target Hiroshima in sight
0915½ drop bomb
The original scheduled time was 0915. Thus, in a flight of some seventeen hundred miles taking six hours and a half, Colonel Tibbets had arrived on target only one-half of a minute off schedule.
The 20th Air Force order covering the operation prescribed a turn of 150° after the bomb was released in order to gain a maximum distance from the point of explosion; such a turn, our studies indicated, could be made without undue risk to the plane and its crew.
Immediately after the bomb was dropped from 31,600 feet, the plane began its getaway maneuver. The flash was seen during this turn and fifty seconds after the drop, the shock waves hit the plane. There were two of these, the first the direct shock wave and the second the reflected wave from the ground. By that time the plane was fifteen miles away from the burst. Parsons’ log continued:
Flash followed by two slaps on plane. Huge cloud
1000 still in sight of cloud which must be over 40,000 feet high
1003 fighter reported
1041 lost sight of cloud, 363 miles from Hiroshima, with the aircraft being 26,000 feet high
The crews of the strike and the two observation aircraft reported that five minutes after release a dark gray cloud of some three miles in diameter hung over the center of Hiroshima. Out of the center of this grew a column of white smoke which rose to a height of 35,000 feet, with the top of the cloud being considerably enlarged.
Four hours after the strike, the photo reconnaissance planes found that most of the city of Hiroshima was still obscured by the smoke cloud, although fires could be seen around its edges. Unfortunately, no report reached me from these planes, except merely that they were unable to get pictures. Pictures taken the following day showed that 60 per cent of the city was destroyed.
The area devastated at Hiroshima was 1.7 square miles, extending out a mile from ground zero. The Japanese authorities estimated the casualties at 71,000 dead and missing and 68,000 injured.
The most important result achieved by the Hiroshima bombing was not the physical damage, although over 50 per cent of the buildings were totally destroyed, nor was it the fifteen to twenty thousand Japanese soldiers who were killed or severely wounded, nor was it the thousands of other people killed and injured. The important result, and the one that we sought, was that it brought home to the Japanese leaders the utter hopelessness of their position. When this fact was re-emphasized by the Nagasaki bombing, they were convinced that they must surrender at once.
Farrell had informed me by cable on Saturday, August 4, that the weather prediction was favorable for our operations, and that if it remained so the plane would take off on Sunday, at approximately noon. (Washington times and dates are used throughout this description of Washington events.) General Marshall was notified, as was Secretary Stimson, through Harrison.
I went to my office rather early on Sunday morning and found a cable telling me that the take-off was still scheduled for that day. I remained there, awaiting a report of the take-off or of its postponement. I fully expected to receive some word on the situation at Tinian by not later than 1:30 or 2:00 p.m. By that time I had finished the work I wanted to do, and realized that there was nothing I could do but to sit back and wait. There were several officers on duty who were also just sitting and waiting. In retrospect, I cannot understand why I did not make an early teletype inquiry of Farrell, except that this might have been thought to indicate a lack of confidence, and this was something I never did if I could help it.
I finally gave up, recognizing that there was no useful purpose to be served by my sitting there fretting. I decided that all of us in my office would be better off if I went out to play tennis for an hour, so I told the Duty Officer, Major Derry, who was regularly assisting me in the operational phases of the project, how to reach me without delay, and departed. I took with me another officer to sit beside the telephone at the courts. This had been my regular practice on occasions when I might be hard to get hold of, ever since our first separation plant began operations. It not only ensured that I could be reached promptly in case of need, but it also kept me from constantly wondering whether someone might not be trying to reach me. This officer called my office every fifteen minutes to ask if there was any news, and we returned after about an hour or two to find that there was still no word from Tinian.
At about five o’clock, Derry informed me that he had just had a telephone call from General Marshall, who had returned from a weekend at his home in Leesburg, and wanted to know if there was any word on the operation. Derry answered that there was not, but that I was there and he would call me to the telephone. General Marshall’s reply was typical of his thoughtfulness throughout my association with him: “I don’t want you to bother General Groves. He has enough to think about without answering any unnecessary queries.”
Not anticipating this dearth of information, I had arranged for my wife and daughter and George Harrison to have dinner with me at the Army-Navy Club. I had thought that we could do this between the take-off report and the strike report from the plane, which I had expected to receive about 7:30 p.m. On meeting them, I told Harrison that we had no news. Later, General Handy came by and asked me if I had any news and again I had to say no. When we were well along with dinner, I was called to the phone. It was then about 6:45. As I went, I noticed both Harrison and Handy had stopped eating and I could feel their eyes boring into my back. It was Derry with the first report that the plane had left on schedule. This report was about six hours late, but still it was a relief to have something. On my return, I told Handy and then Harrison.
A few minutes later I left for my office. As my family drove me downtown, I told them that I would have to stay there all night. Despite the fact that it was the first time I had done this during the war, it did not give rise to any question or comment; their lifetime in the Army had conditioned them well.
In accordance with my directions, Derry had promptly informed General Marshall, through the Secretary of the General Staff, Colonel McCarthy, about the plane’s departure. I was greatly disturbed and embarrassed by the evident breakdown in our communications, so I telephoned Major General H. C. Ingles, the Chief Signal Officer and an old friend, to ask him to look into the matter. He replied that he had already heard from General Marshall and that he did not need any additional stirring up from me. He had no idea what was the matter, but he was taking every possible step to correct the unknown trouble. Still no strike message came in.
The people in my office who knew the general situation, and this did not include everyone, gathered during the evening, both to be of assistance if necessary, and because of a natural desire to keep abreast of events. During the evening I worked on several papers that I wanted to study quietly. In order to ease the growing tension in the office, I made a point of taking off my tie, opening up my collar and rolling up my sleeves. While this was completely out of character for me, I did it for the specific purpose of creating a more informal, relaxed atmosphere. The hours went by, more slowly than I ever imagined hours could go by, and still there was no news. By now the strike message was three or four hours overdue.
I have never been certain whether our queries into the delay ever really got to the bottom of the matter or not. But it appeared that the trouble resulted from one of the mix-ups that so often occur at important moments. Messages to me had always been sent over an Air Force top secret channel which went from Tinian to Guam to Washington. On this occasion the message left Tinian and then somehow was put on an Army channel. This went to Manila and from there to Washington. Why, I have never learned.
At about 11:15, I received a telephone call from McCarthy, who said that General Marshall had asked him to find out if we had any news about the actual strike. I replied, “No, we have not received any.” He said that General Marshall had told him that if any news came in later, McCarthy was not to call him then, but to tell him in the morning.
About fifteen minutes later the strike message did come in. Parsons reported (in special one-time code, of course):
Results clearcut, successful in all respects. Visible effects greater than New Mexico tests. Conditions normal in airplane following delivery.
Received at the same time was this message relayed from the plane:
Target at Hiroshima attacked visually. One-tenth cloud at 052315Z.3 No fighters and no flak.
As soon as we had decoded these messages, I called McCarthy. He asked me what I thought he should do in view of General Marshall’s previous instructions. I replied that that was his problem, but if I were in his place, I certainly would call General Marshall right away. He followed my advice, as it was what I am sure he wanted to do anyway. The only comment he received was, “Thank you very much for calling me.”
Naturally our people were greatly excited over the news, but I retired to my office and wrote the rough draft of a report for delivery to General Marshall in the morning. I planned to amplify it when I received the expected longer, more detailed report after the plane returned to Tinian. As soon as I completed the draft, I went to sleep on the cot that had been brought into my office, after telling the Duty Officer to call me when the next message came in. At about 4:30 a.m. he wakened me to deliver the detailed hoped-for cable from Farrell, which had been dispatched after the plane returned to Tinian. This message read:
Following additional information furnished by Parsons, crews, and observers on return to Tinian at 060500Z.4 Report delayed until information could be assembled at interrogation of crews and observers. Present at interrogation were Spaatz, Giles, Twining, and Davies.
Confirmed neither fighter or flak attack and one tenth cloud cover with large open hole directly over target. High speed camera reports excellent record obtained. Other observing aircraft also anticipates good records although films not yet processed. Reconnaissance aircraft taking post-strike photographs have not yet returned.
Sound—None appreciable observed.
Flash—Not so blinding as New Mexico test because of bright sunlight. First there was a ball of fire changing in a few seconds to purple clouds and flames boiling and swirling upward. Flash observed just after airplane rolled out of turn. All agreed light was intensely bright and white cloud rose faster than New Mexico test, reaching thirty thousand feet in minutes it was one-third greater diameter.
It mushroomed at the top, broke away from column and the column mushroomed again. Cloud was most turbulent. It went at least to forty thousand feet. Flattening across its top at this level. It was observed from combat airplane three hundred sixty-three nautical miles away with airplane at twenty-five thousand feet. Observation was then limited by haze and not curvature of the earth.
Blast—There were two distinct shocks felt in combat airplane similar in intensity to close flak bursts. Entire city except outermost ends of dock areas was covered with a dark grey dust layer which joined the cloud column. It was extremely turbulent with flashes of fire visible in the dust. Estimated diameter of this dust layer is at least three miles. One observer stated it looked as though whole town was being torn apart with columns of dust rising out of valleys approaching the town. Due to dust visual observation of structural damage could not be made.
Parsons and other observers felt this strike was tremendous and awesome even in comparison with New Mexico test. Its effects may be attributed by the Japanese to a huge meteor.
After the message was decoded, I amplified and revised my previously prepared draft, and while it was being typed, changed my uniform. Then about 6:15, I called George Harrison at his hotel and told him that I was on my way to General Marshall’s office and would be there shortly before seven, which was the General’s regular hour of arrival.
I was waiting when the General arrived, and immediately handed him the written report, which was about two pages long. Within a minute or two we were joined by General Arnold, and then by Harrison. After a brief discussion, General Marshall called the Secretary of War on the telephone. Mr. Stimson was then at Highhold, his house on Long Island, for he had come back from Europe quite worn-out, and had gone home for a day or two of rest. The telephone circuit over which we talked was specially designed to be secure. After receiving the facts, he extended his very warm congratulations for me to convey to all concerned.
General Marshall expressed his feeling that we should guard against too much gratification over our success, because it undoubtedly involved a large number of Japanese casualties. I replied that I was not thinking so much about those casualties as I was about the men who had made the Bataan death march. When we got into the hall, Arnold slapped me on the back and said, “I am glad you said that—it’s just the way I feel.” I have always thought that this was the real feeling of every experienced officer, particularly those who occupied positions of great responsibility, including General Marshall himself.
It was quite evident to all of us, as well as to the Secretary up on Long Island, that our hope of ending the war through the development of atomic energy was close to realization.
General Marshall said that he would prefer to have me remain in the Pentagon that morning instead of returning to my office on the Washington side of the river. He said there were a number of things that might come up and he wanted me to be available. He added, “The Secretary of War is away. Why don’t you take over his office while you are over here?” This was most convenient, since it was immediately next to General Marshall’s.
The major problem facing me then was the Presidential release, which we hoped to make at 11 a.m. It had been customary for the Japanese to announce the results of American bombing raids even before the planes had returned to their bases. In order to ensure the greatest possible impact on the Japanese Government and people, we wanted the announcement of our bomb to be made from Washington, and made promptly.
To help prepare this press release and the many others that would be necessary, back in the spring we had secured the services of William L. Laurence, a science reporter for the New York Times. While we had in the project a number of competent men with sound newspaper backgrounds, they already had more than enough to do, and it seemed to us, in any case, that it would be much better to bring in an outside newspaperman who would have a more objective touch. Our first thought had been to borrow Jack Lockhart from the Office of Censorship. Lockhart felt that he could not be spared from his present assignment, and suggested that we get someone who had a better background in scientific reporting, recommending Laurence as the best man he could think of for the job.
We already knew quite a bit about Laurence. His article on the possibilities of atomic power, which had been published by the Saturday Evening Post in 1940, had been of considerable interest to us. In fact, early in 1943, we had asked the Post to report to us at once any request received for this particular back number and to delay mailing it until they received our instructions. Actually, no request for that issue was ever received.
Laurence had an excellent reputation as a scientific writer, and after careful consideration and learning all we could of his background, I made an appointment to see Edwin L. James, the managing editor of the New York Times. I asked him to have Laurence available in case our conversation necessitated his presence.
On the appointed afternoon, I visited James’ office, accompanied by Major W. A. Consodine, an experienced lawyer from my office who dealt with intelligence and counterintelligence matters and who had also been a professional reporter for a number of years. Without disclosing the purpose of the project, I said that it was of extreme importance, that we needed a newspaper writer for a number of months, and that we wanted Laurence. I said that he would be working for us and there would be no rights or privileges of any kind accruing to the Times while he was with us. Consodine added that this would not prevent them from using his name in a by-line, but that the same story would be distributed to all news media, which could not be expected to give credit to him or the Times. We asked James for his frank opinion of Laurence, which confirmed the opinion we had already formed after investigating his background. A few minutes with Laurence himself only made us more certain than ever that this was the man we wanted.
In discussing the arrangements, it seemed desirable for security reasons, as well as easier for the employer, to have Laurence continue on the payroll of the New York Times, but with his expenses to be covered by the MED. I asked James to keep Laurence’s assignment as secret as possible, but I never asked him if any other persons on the Times knew where Laurence was or what he was doing. James did let word get out that Laurence was on a special assignment and he later arranged, about August 1, for a story in the New York Times with a London date line and carrying Laurence’s by-line. This was helpful in throwing off suspicion and, as we hoped it would, calmed the anxiety of his wife, who was wondering where he was and why he would not tell her what he was doing.
Laurence’s work in the project started with a thorough review of our work in general. After undergoing an indoctrination in Washington, he visited Oak Ridge, Hanford and Los Alamos. His appearance at Los Alamos created quite a stir because a number of scientists there recognized him as a newspaper reporter and, until they finally learned his mission, were quite disturbed by thoughts of how he could have managed to infiltrate the project. In general, his first task was to write drafts of the releases as quickly as possible.
He was an eyewitness to the explosion at Alamogordo, and not long after that was sent overseas to Tinian, arriving just too late to be included in the observation plane for the Hiroshima bombing, but not too late to witness the take-off preparations. When the Nagasaki mission took off, he was an observer in the instrument plane that accompanied the bomber. On this occasion, he served as a pool correspondent, with the only limitation on his report consisting of a check on his dispatch for security before its release. It was this dispatch that led to a Pulitzer Prize for the best news story of the year, a justly deserved award.
Laurence had assisted us in preparing the White House press release weeks before the Alamogordo test, under the guidance of the Interim Committee,5 and it had been approved by both Secretary Stimson and the President. The statement was quite long and emphasized the tremendous destructive power of atomic explosions. Some minor revisions were made after the Alamogordo test.
In addition to the White House statement, a release had been prepared for the Secretary of War, to be issued shortly thereafter. Other releases pertaining to certain details of the project were also ready at various key points throughout the country. They, of course, had to be kept under the most rigid control. The purpose of this wide distribution was to permit release at the locations where our work had been carried on.
Unfortunately, we had not, by the morning of August 6, received any report of the damage inflicted on Hiroshima. All we had was Parsons’ visual estimate of the power of the bomb, which presumably was not at variance with the information received by the observing plane’s instruments, and Farrell’s very condensed report on the interrogation of the crews. We were thus fairly certain of the force and the height of burst, but only of that. Looking back, it all seems simple today, but it was not then. I felt it most important to get the announcement out; yet the announcement was predicated for its effectiveness upon enormous damage to the target. There were suggestions that we should delay our announcement. There were suggestions that we should soften it. There were suggestions that I should get further information from Farrell on Tinian. There were innumerable suggestions. These did not come from General Marshall, but from various people in the office of the Secretary of War.
Mr. Robert A. Lovett, for whose astuteness I had the highest regard, advised softening our claims, using a very appealing argument, to wit: that the Air Force (he was then Assistant Secretary of War for Air) had proclaimed the complete destruction of Berlin on a number of occasions. He added, “It becomes rather embarrassing after about the third time.”
Hoping to avoid any repetition of Mr. Lovett’s experience, I did try to discuss the situation with LeMay over the telecon from Washington to Guam, and through him, with Farrell over radio telephone to Tinian. I soon learned, however, that by the time LeMay could be reached it would be too late for us to revise the release.
I realized then that if any changes were to be made they had to be made quickly and before I could obtain any confirmation. The pages involved would have to be remimeographed and then the completed announcements would have to be delivered to the White House. This would all take at least an hour. I finally compromised by making a minor change in the first paragraph, which I felt would not lessen the impact of the news on the Japanese, and would still leave us a loophole in case the bomb had not had the anticipated destructive force. My principal concern about an overstatement was that it might weaken the effect of the announcement on the Japanese.
During this time I was bending every effort to get in touch with Farrell on the telecon:
WASHINGTON: Have the officer in charge come to teletype and give us his name. We have a most urgent message which takes top priority by order of Secretary of War. . . .
Is your officer there? Instruction 1. Set up a circuit with Tinian immediately for standby. Instruction 2. Get General LeMay to teletype immediately for urgent conference requested by the Secretary of War. If he is not on the Island, get General Giles, or General Twining, or General Spaatz, in the order listed. Utmost urgency, please acknowledge. Instruction 3. Inform us immediately which officer is coming and how long it will take him to get there.
Guam: Minute, please. Have to check to see if we can accept.
Washington: This circuit at the present time takes all priority and no traffic will be accepted except by order of the Secretary of War.
Guam: OK. Fine.
Washington: Instruction 4. Contact Brigadier General T. F. Farrell on Tinian and have him go to the teletype there and stand by at request of Secretary of War.
Farrell had been awake for many hours during the operations; first for some twenty-four hours during the assembly of the bomb and the preparation for the plane’s departure, and then he had stayed awake throughout the time of its flight and for some hours afterward. When he finally went to bed, it was at the other end of the island from the communications center, where he could not be reached easily. Yet, in spite of his exhaustion, for which a medical officer had given him some sleeping pills, when we finally got hold of him, Farrell rose to the occasion in a manner which most younger men might envy.
Finally, at about ten o’clock, I received the welcome news:
“General LeMay is present now.”
Present in Washington:Present in Guam:
General L.R. Groves General Curtis LeMay
Groves: Important that we make press announcement here immediately. Has there been any confirmation of the information reported by the plane in Farreirs message to me this morning? Did you get that? LeMay: I am not familiar with General Farrell’s message.6 Groves: Can we guess?
LeMay: Only confirmation of crews reports is pictures taken by K-20 camera from the tail gunner’s position in the strike airplane. Target area of approximately three miles in diameter is covered by a grey dust like smoke. This smoke slopes to the center forming a mushroom of white smoke that rises to about 27,000 feet. This picture taken approximately three minutes after strike report the target completely covered with smoke and a column of dense white smoke rising to about 30,000 feet with a lesser concentration rising to 40,000 feet. F-13 arriving 4 hours later reports smoke columns still there. Have oblique pictures but expect no detail from them; there will be report of these pictures in two hours. Is this the information you want?
Groves: Generally, yes. Do you have any estimate as to the results of F-13 trip over the target? As to the area and extent of damage or has it been impossible for them to get any idea due to smoke? Are cloud conditions satisfactory for photographic work?
LeMay: No but pictures may show something. They have obliques only as they were briefed not to fly in cloud and smoke over the target. The F-13’s reported the column still there upon their arrival four hours after bombs away.
Groves: Does Farrell have any idea as to when pictures may be taken from the standpoint of the smoke columns? I should have thought that this column would have disappeared from the immediate target area within an hour of two.
LeMay: The F-13 crews 4 hours after bombs away saw several fires near the dock area in the fringes of the cloud. Their magnitude could not be determined because of density of the smoke cloud.
Groves: Will you ask Farrell thru your relay setup if he sees any reason for not releasing information to the public in the United States without delay?
LeMay: General Farrell sees no reason why information on Hiroshima strike should not be released to American Public at once and strongly recommends such release.
Groves: Will you please convey my congratulations and appreciation to the people out there, both mine and yours, and to you personally, my very best.
This information, while it did not confirm, did not upset my guess that the city had been destroyed. I saw no reason to alter my original decision to make the release, and so I took no steps to stop it, although there was still time.
As I look back on it, I feel that I should have discussed the matter with General Marshall or at least asked Arnold or Hull for their advice. At the time, however, I saw no reason why I should not make the decision on my own responsibility. It was true that the release had been previously approved by President Truman, but I think it only reasonable to believe that this was done on the assumption that we would have definite knowledge of the damage.
At the White House, everything was rather humdrum that morning. The press had been informed that there would be an important announcement by the President at eleven o’clock. White House correspondents are accustomed to such notices, and this one did not particularly arouse their interest. Many of them did not bother to go themselves, but sent assistants. Everything changed, however, when the President’s Press Secretary arose and read the first few sentences. As the words “more than twenty thousand tons of TNT” came out of his mouth, there was a tremendous rush of reporters for the releases, which were on a table at the exit from the room, and then to the telephones and their offices.
The newspaper world was as astonished as everyone else. Because this news broke during the academic vacation period, many of the scientific reporters were away. They were immediately recalled. Then as the impact of this event began to be more fully realized, most newspapers published our releases in their entirety. This is one of the few times since government releases have become so common that this has been done.
As the papers came out, an important committee of the General Motors Corporation was holding a meeting in New York City. The members, among them Walter Carpenter, the president of du Pont, had left instructions that they were not to be disturbed. Shortly after noon I reached Carpenter on the phone and told him to get a newspaper and read the news. I added my warmest thanks for what he and du Pont had done. He sent a clerk out for a paper, and when it was brought in someone suggested that Charles Kettering, the famous inventor, be pressed into service to read the story on the grounds that he was a scientist and could understand and explain it. Carpenter said nothing for he did not know how much he could say about du Pont’s role in the project. When Kettering was well along in the story, he read that du Pont had been responsible for a considerable part of the work. He dropped the paper abruptly and made a few harsh comments to Carpenter about letting him make a fool of himself. Carpenter explained that he didn’t know how much security permitted him to say, so all he could do was read the papers like the rest of them.
In that he was typical of most of the members of the project. Their work was recognized at last, but they still were not free to discuss it.
1 Tinian time (August 5, 11:45 A.M. Washington time).
2 These plugs armed the bomb so that it would detonate when released.
3 Greenwich time (6:15 p.m. Washington time).
4 Greenwich time.
5 The Interim Committee was composed of nine civilians appointed by President Truman on Secretary Stimson’s recommendation in the spring of 1945. They were to draft essential postwar legislation, prepare for the White House release of news, and advise generally on the steps needed to prepare the future handling of atomic energy in the United States.
6 It was characteristic of LeMay that he made no caustic comment, as he might well have done, about being kept in the dark about the information that had been sent to Washington.