Target Nevada

USA. This is the valley where the giant mushrooms grow. More atomic bombs have been exploded on these few hundred square miles of desert than on any other spot on the globe. Little bombs, big bombs, low bursts, and high bursts. Within the last two years, 20 of these colossal blasts have echoed across the Great Barren stretches of the southwest. This testing ground in our own backyard, just an aerial stone's throw from the Los Alamos laboratory, has been used only for experimental devices below certain power levels. Even so, it has been hugely valuable. It would have cost months of precious time and millions of dollars more to do this testing at the Pacific Proving Ground on any Wetok Atoll. Interwoven throughout the story of the Nevada tests is a second story, the story of the part played by the United States Air Force, operating here under the command of Major General John S. Mills, responsible for Air Force participation in the nuclear weapons program. With this help, the help of Air Force personnel, equipment, and veteran know-how, the tests afforded much earlier completion dates than would have otherwise been practical, yielding information vital to the big picture, national defense. Of the 20 bombs that were detonated, 14 had to be aerial drops, pinpointed with unerring accuracy to meet the requirements of atomic scientists. But the delivery of the A-bomb is only one phase of Air Force support of the Atomic Energy Commission's test program. As shock day approaches, a steady flow of information comes into weather central at the AEC's control point. Weather conditions must be right for test purposes and air operations, and from the standpoint of safety, the priority watchword of the whole program. The next day after zero hour, we see the reason for this concentration on the weather job. We see its relation to the huge fact which remains after every nuclear detonation, the atomic cloud, the towering, angry ghost of the fireball. The payoff is knowledge of wind speeds and wind directions. After the explosion, Air Force helicopters survey and monitor the acres of blast area with sensitive radiation counters, charting super hot areas, probing for usable approach lanes for bomb damage assessment teams. Another phase of the test program is called cloud sampling, the job of gathering specimens of the radioactive particles inside the swirling atomic cloud. This is necessary for scientists to analyze accurately what happened during the explosion. Which gather samples are ingeniously designed filter traps mounted on the wings and fuselage of the collecting aircraft. The sampler crews do a job considered impossibly dangerous a few years ago. Since then, advanced techniques make it possible for these trained crews to fly through the cloud without harm, even to stay inside of it for a while, if they observe the precautions taught by experience. In addition to the cloud samplers, as many as 40 other aircraft are allowed to handle special assignments each time an atomic test shot is fired. There are observation crews with ultra-modern cameras, other crews operating complex electronic recording devices, and of great importance, the men in the cloud tracking aircraft, which will follow the cloud hour after hour as it is carried cross-country by the wind, checking its spread, reporting every phase of its movements to a radiological control center. With this information, commercial airliners can be warned of the cloud path, and Air Weather Service can further refine its weather forecasting techniques. Any aircraft that has been used for cloud sampling or cloud tracking operations will carry traces of radiological contamination. The Air Force has only recently developed a method of washing contaminated planes, which makes them safe and ready for service within 24 hours. Part of the benefit the Air Force gains from its cooperation in the atomic energy program is in the form of questions answered. What will be the effect of brilliant atomic light on the eyes of aircraft crew? To find out, flight surgeon volunteers sat before optical instruments in the flying laboratory to test their visual reactions to the actual flare of an atomic burst. Not one of these volunteers suffered any permanent eye damage. Thus, these flash blindness tests established reliable standards for protection against such intense light, which information was immediately passed on to the thoroughly interested civilian agencies. Now, another thing the Air Force needs to know. What are the effects of atomic blasts on its prime tools, aircraft? So a number of aircraft, some obsolete and some latest models, were placed at various angles to the blast because we must learn how to protect our own fighters and bombers, as well as how much damage we can do to the best of the enemy's aircraft. With the test setup completed, we move back and wait through the tense moments while the bomb falls. Record new evidence of the enormous destructiveness of the atom bomb. Later, we come back and study the results in detail, looking for the answers. Have fighters built to stand greater stresses than bombers sustained less damage? Have the ruggedly constructed jet planes fared better than the conventional aircraft? And the answers are here, in some lightly damaged aircraft and in other scorched and twisted wreckage. From these findings, the Air Force adds new pages to its understanding and its mastery of atomic warfare. On the eve of a bombing run, an actual test drop, the air weather officer meets with top authorities for a final briefing. All groups concurring, the decision is made, as here by Dr. Alvin Graves, scientific test director, and by Mr. Carol Tyler, test manager for the Atomic Energy Commission. Well, Carol, I think we should go ahead. Okay, Al, we have a shot. The standby period is over. The scores of activities that go into an atomic strike begin to mesh together. Aircraft crews get their final briefing. I am confident that you will execute this mission successfully. Now let's go and have a good mission. Out on the flight line, the drop aircraft is wheeled into position for loading. An intricate job with no room for fumbling. This is no simulated mission. This is no dry run. This is the real thing. With an atomic bomb loaded in the bomb bay, the strike is launched. Rosebud, codename for this B-50 drop aircraft, is in the air. Three men in this plane especially share the heavy responsibility. The radar navigator and the bombardier. Once cleared from the base area, Rosebud climbs toward upper... At the AEC control point, the progress of Rosebud mile after mile is charted carefully and matched against its predicted course. The test authorities stand by for any emergency decisions that may be needed. Rosebud is at bombing altitude, swinging in on the final bomb run. No seconds tick away. The bombardier becomes the most important man in the drop plane. The target he must hit is six miles below. These nuclear tests demand that the bomb be released within a timing tolerance of plus or minus two seconds. Teamwork, precision, all raised. This is what happens in the valley where the giant mushrooms grow. This, within security limits, is the part played by the United States Air Force in the Atomic Energy Commission test program. Target Nevada.