Page 98 of The Women of Oak Ridge
“Both science and industry worked together,” the president continued, “under the direction of the United States Army, which achieved a unique success in an amazingly short time.”
I thought back to the day I learned about S-50. Clive said the liquid thermal diffusion plant had been built in less than three months.
“The Secretary of War, who has kept in personal touch with all phases of the project, will immediately make public a statement giving further details. His statement will give facts concerning the sites at Oak Ridge near Knoxville, Tennessee,” the president said, followed by whoops and hollers from my coworkers before Mr. Colby shushed everyone, “and at Richland near Pasco, Washington, and an installation near Santa Fe, New Mexico. Although the workers at the sites have been making materials to be used in producing the greatest destructive force in history, they have not themselves been in danger beyond that of many other occupations, for the utmost care has been taken of their safety.”
The president’s speech ended with his promise to recommend Congress set up a commission to monitor and control the uses of atomic power in the United States. I couldn’t help but think ofthe classified documents Clive had delivered to the Russian government. What did they intend to do with the knowledge they’d stolen from our country? All I could do was pray that whatever secrets I’d passed to Clive would never be used to harm Americans.
After Mr. Colby clicked off the radio, he faced us. “I’m sure more information will come out in the coming weeks, but for now, just know that your hard work—everything we’ve all been doing the past two years—was for this day.”
A triumphant cheer filled the room. Everyone spoke in excited voices at once. Some were astonished that Oak Ridge had played a role in making the powerful weapon, while others appeared relieved the secret was finally out.
I quietly slipped from the office. I wasn’t sure why, but tears filled my eyes. I hurried to the restroom and locked the door. My knees gave way, and I sank to the tiled floor and wept. I cried for all the soldiers who’d died because of this terrible war. I cried for the innocent victims. For Sissy and her mama. For myself.
But it was finally over, or it would be soon. Surely the Japanese would surrender after having such a terrible weapon used on them. President Truman didn’t say how many people were killed, but one would assume it was a great many, considering the power the bomb unleashed.
Three days later, a second atomic bomb was dropped on Japan, this time on a city called Nagasaki. I’d sat in Mr. Colby’s office, stunned by the radio announcement. Why hadn’t Japan’s leaders surrendered after the first bomb? Why had they put their citizens at risk? When would all the death and destruction finally come to an end?
On Tuesday, I woke to the sound of happy voices and car horns out my window. Groggy from sleep, I glanced at my wristwatch. It was after noon. I’d worked the late shift last night and had fallen into bed in the wee hours of the morning.
A warm August breeze came through the partially open window. I pulled back the curtain and saw a repeat of what had taken place when Germany surrendered. Crowds of people and cars clogged the streets, celebrating.
I hurried into the hallway where a young woman ran past.
“What’s happening?” I hollered after her.
She skidded to a stop and stared at me. “Haven’t you heard? Japan surrendered. The war is over!” She didn’t wait for more questions and disappeared down the stairs.
I stood there in my nightgown, stunned.
Could it truly be over? After all these years, had the war finally come to an end?
I covered my face with my hands and sobbed.
