The Most Secret - Chapter One

Chapter One

September 1947

 

It was early September 1947. The windows in the beach house were open and the gentle sea breeze which usually drifts in from the Gulf had stopped. Instead it was replaced by another one of those middle of the night thunder storms comprised of wind and rain, mixed in with plenty of thunder and lighting.

Dr. Rodney Allen did everything he could to block out the noise of the storm. He could not see his clock, but he thought it was just after two in the morning. The storm was now at its peak – it was hitting Houston with everything it had. However, Allen did not mind – after all those months in the desert, he really missed the humidity and unsettled weather of the Gulf Coast. These storms usually did not last long, and he had plenty of time to get some sleep before going to work in the morning.

Lying in bed listening to the storm gave Allen time to reflect on the past two years. He thought about his time in the desert, and why it was so hard. More than anything, it was not home. He was born and raised on the Gulf Coast of Texas and that is where he wanted to be. It was enough that after his undergrad work at Texas A+M, he had to venture out east to finish his schooling at MIT. That is where he earned a Master’s Degree and then was selected as a PhD candidate in Chemical Engineering. It was a tough five years. He absolutely hated Boston and the surrounding community. The natives were smug as well as arrogant. Upon receiving his doctorate from MIT, he was delighted to get a call from Texas inviting him to be on staff in the Chemical Engineering Department at the University of Houston.

He was a skilled research scientist. The University of Houston, which was known for research, was eager to have a home grown boy on the staff. Having a PhD from the world famous MIT was all Houston needed to know. The fact that Allen graduated with high honors in every degree earned also did not hurt. Allen fit into the Houston environment like a foot into an old, comfortable shoe.

Dr. Allen was not at the university long before he went from research assistant to full professor. He was teaching as well as conducting research. He had many papers on the street and his name became well known in academia. And that is where his journey really began.

It was shortly before the 1945 spring semester when three men approached the door of his apartment. When the knock came, Allen was deep in thought and did not hear it. Using the Periodic Table, Professor Allen had been preparing his class for an introduction on which elements might contribute to a hypothetical construct known as “fusion”. It would be a good exercise, and the students would get a chance to really think “outside the box” (a rare trait for any undergrad). After all, fusion was more science fiction than science, and the class might get a kick out it.

The knock came again, only this time louder. “Professor Allen, are you in there? We need to talk to you. Please open up.” Allen was not accustomed to being disturbed in the evening when his classes were over. There were written as well as unwritten rules on the times a professor could be engaged, and right now was not one of them.

Allen went to the door, prepared to hand some freshman “his ass” for interrupting his prep time. As he opened his door, he saw the three men, all dressed in dark suits. A taller man in front spoke first. “Professor Allen, may we please have a word?” Thoughts, none of them good, immediately flashed though Allen’s mind. “Who are these guys? Did I not do my taxes right? Did I not pay a traffic ticket? What in the world have I done wrong?”

“Professor Allen, we are here as representatives of your government. We are not at liberty to say much more than that, but trust me, this visit is sanctioned and approved by the highest levels”. Allen first thought this might be a joke played by one of the other departments. Practical jokes had been played in the past, and if you fell for one, word spread quickly on campus.

Not wanting to be a dupe, Allen asked the taller man if he had some identification. All three then pulled wallets out of their suit jackets and displayed them to the professor. Each had official looking identification. No department was listed – just the United States Government. “Please come in and have a seat” Allen said. The taller man continued, “Thank you Professor. We will stand as this will not take long. Sir, your presence is requested, and if need be, required, to assist your Government in a very important, very special assignment.”

“As you know sir, the war is at a critical stage. Someone of your training and caliber is needed to work on a very special project. That is all I am at liberty to say. I cannot tell you where this work will be done, how long it will take, or what the product will be. If you pass a background check, you will be briefed on all of that. What I will tell you is this – time is of the essence. Some of our people have talked to your Provost earlier this evening and cleared the fact you will need to take some time off. We will give you this evening to pack and get your affairs in order. A car will be here tomorrow morning at eight o’clock to pick you up. Your full and complete cooperation on this matter will be most appreciated.”

Allen was stunned. He felt like he had been sprayed with a fire hose. The only question he could think of was very simple. “What if I refuse?” “Sir, we are hoping that will not be the case. We would really like you to come willingly. Once you are briefed, you will understand why this is so important. However, if you refuse, you will be conscripted.”

Professor Allen still mostly stunned, uttered a short reply. “I will see you at eight in the morning.” With that, the three men left. Allen walked into the kitchen and pulled out a bottle of Scotch. “What the hell did I just agree to? What the hell is going on?” Allen poured a strong drink and then started to plan out the rest of his night. He had a lot to do in a very short period of time.

The next morning at eight o’clock, a black car pulled up in front of his apartment. Professor Allen packed enough clothes for a week. Anything beyond that would require a laundry trip. Little did he know his time away would be measured in months, not weeks.

He left his apartment and turned to lock the door. He really had no clue as to where he was going or when he was coming back. It was a strange feeling. Just a few hours ago he was prepping a lesson plan for his class and now he was going somewhere unknown for an indefinite period of time. To say he was apprehensive would be an understatement. However unsteady he felt, he still got into the car and they drove towards downtown Houston. Once they reached the center of town, the car stopped in front of the Federal Building. Allen got out along with two other men and went directly into a secured conference room. His suitcase was still in the trunk, so he knew this would only be a stop on a journey into the unknown.

In the conference room, Professor Allen sat down on one side of a large table and the other two men sat on the other. “Stress interview,” Allen thought. “I have been through this before”. One of the men slid a piece of paper across the table. “Professor Allen, I know you have seen one of these before. It is a non-disclosure agreement. Before we continue, you need to sign it and then you will be briefed on the rights and responsibilities of any information shared with you in this room and beyond.”

Allen looked it over before he signed it. It looked similar to ones he had seen in academia. However, this one also had a very big stick attached. If Allen disclosed any classified information to an unauthorized person or media source, the United States Government could throw his ass in federal prison for a ton of years and fine him a fortune.

Keeping his hand steady, Allen signed the document. “Very good sir. We will now proceed with your briefing. We have done a background check on you and feel your history and character are clean enough to receive this preliminary briefing. Your full background check should be complete in two weeks and at that time you will receive a final briefing. The agreement you just signed binds you to secrecy as long as the information you are exposed to remains classified. Disclosure of any kind, no matter how small, could have serious consequences to our war effort and national security. Am I clear on this sir?”

“Crystal clear” Allen replied. “Good. Then it is time to get started.” The man giving the briefing pulled out a map of New Mexico and laid it on the table. “Professor, on the map you will see White Sands Proving Grounds. Within those grounds is the Alamogordo Bombing and Gunnery Range. This is where you will be assigned to work with other highly skilled scientists. The closest town is Socorro, New Mexico, so your work will be very isolated. That is by design.”

“Many of the rumors you have heard in the past are true. We are on the verge of splitting the atom. We are very close to developing a bomb which will contain an atomic warhead. A warhead that will have incredible destructive power. This program, code named Manhattan Project, is the most secret development program of the war – of any war. If we are successful, it will change the course of the war. It will win the war for the Allies.”

“I should tell you Professor, that we are not the only country looking in to this technology. The Germans would have loved to have it as well as the Russians. Even though the Russians are currently on ‘our side’, we suspect that will not last for long. We need to be the first to come up with an atomic bomb and then keep the technology away from everyone else.”

“We will now take you into another room where you will by finger printed, have your photo taken, and then given a United States Government ID badge. Once that is done, we will leave Houston and drive to White Sands. I apologize in advance for the length of the trip. We will be in the car for over fifteen hours. We will make sure there are enough comfort and rest stops. Once we arrive, we will get you checked into the base and have a room assigned to you.”

Still somewhat in a daze, Allen nodded his head. After he received his ID, he and the other two men went back down to the car. “Gassed up and ready to go sir!” “Great. We need to get going. The first rest stop will be in 200 miles.” Thus began the long drive through central Texas, west Texas and finally southern New Mexico. As Professor Allen looked out the window, all he could think of was how much of Texas he had never seen before. And seeing the landscape they were driving through, that was fine with him.

It was the middle of the night when they checked into the base. It was not the end of the earth, but Allen thought he could see it from there. In his mind, Allen also believed the surface of the moon could not be more desolate, or isolated than this place was. However, this was going to be home for a while. He got out of the car and one of the men handed him his suitcase. “Check in at the front desk sir. They will see you to your room. We are going back to Houston now Professor. We will not be seeing you again. Good luck and good hunting. You are a patriot sir, and we appreciate that”. With that, they climbed back into the car and disappeared into the darkness.

As Allen walked into the main building, an E-6 Sargent sat behind the desk. “I assume you are Professor Allen. If you are, please show me your ID. We have been expecting you”. Allen pulled out his brand new government ID and showed it to the Sargent. “You are good sir. Please follow me to your quarters”.

Allen was not expecting much, and that was a good thing. “Spartan” would have been a generous term to what he saw as lodging. This room was a far cry the creature comforts he had in his apartment back in Houston. A bed, a small desk, a metal bookshelf and a closet. That was it. Allen was hoping this would only be his home for a short period of time, but something inside of him started thinking otherwise. He really hoped that feeling was wrong.

The next morning he was awakened by a knock on his door. “Dr. Allen, I have come to show you where we get morning chow”. Allen thought “Chow? What happened to breakfast?” He swung his feet out of the bed onto the floor. “Okay, give me five minutes to get some clothes on.” “No problem sir – we will be right here waiting for you”.

After getting dressed, Allen came out of his room to be met my more uniformed soldiers. “Right this way sir. You will be eating in the officer’s area of our chow hall. The food is not like the Ritz, but most days it passes muster”. “Great” Allen thought. “It nothing else, I will probably drop a few pounds while being here”.

Once in the chow hall, he got into a short line. He held his plate out and was given some greasy eggs and spam. This was not a good way to start the day or this journey. He went over to one of the tables where a man was eating the same disgusting breakfast. “Do you mind if I join you?” “Not at all. You must be the chemical guy, Rod Allen. We heard you were coming”. Allen reached out to shake hands. “I am George Thomas. I work on the physics of this damn thing. Not my idea of a summer vacation being here. I was teaching up at Wisconsin when the FBI ‘invited’ me to join this venture”.

“First off, it is hotter than hell out here in the desert. Next, the place they have us working is in an old hanger type building. Sometimes, it feels as hot in that building as it does outside. And the pressure is on. They want us to come up with something truly spectacular by mid-summer. They even have a name for it – Trinity. Of course, that too is ‘hush-hush’ and we can’t mention that outside the compound.”

Allen could not stand any more good news. The food was as bad as expected, the work sounds like it might be too secretive or compartmentalized to be interesting, and the leisure time will be non-existent. “So George, what exactly do you do for fun out here?” “Do they ever let you go into town and blow off some steam?” “Sorry to be the bearer of bad news Rodney, buy very seldom do we go into town. We work long hours, and after work we pretty much stay on base. The work we are doing is so classified, they don’t want to take the chance that one of us will have a beer too many and get loose lips.”

Allen finished his very sub-par breakfast and then he and George left the mess hall. They walked outside and headed over to the area Allen would be working in. It was big and yet very dark. There were many benches with bright lights hanging over them. It was strangely quiet for an operation which was going to save the world. A man in a white shirt with khaki pants came over and held out his hand. “Dr. Allen. Pleased to have you on board. I am Jerry Butler, your project lead. I am here to help you with anything you need. You name it, I will get it.”

Butler continued, “I will give you the overview first, and then the countless details later. We are ready to have our first test in the near future. The brass would like to have this ready to go on or before the 4^th of July. Every day we spend working on this thing, more American boys will die. The sooner we perfect it and use it, the better. The first test will is code named Trinity. You will hear over and over that Trinity must be successful no later than the 4^th of July. I will repeat, your job is to help make that happen – my job is to help you make it happen.”

Allen took this all in and then resigned himself to the fact this was going to be a long haul. He liked George, and he liked Butler. However, this was far above his pay grade. As much as he heard about “splitting the atom”, it was always a bit of black magic. Hell, he did not even know if it was possible. All he knew was this – someone was going to do it, and whoever did it was going to “rule the world”, even if a short period of time.

Allen became accustomed to his workstation. Hours turned into days, days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into months. The team gelled and progress was made. However, it was not made fast enough. The Trinity event did happen, but it missed the goal of the 4^th of July. However, on the 16^th of July in the year 1945, a small patch of New Mexico desert suddenly became as bright and hot as the sun, albeit only for a moment. The impossible dream just became possible. The atom was split, and the world would never be the same. This power, this amazing power had now been unleashed. Whether used for good or evil will be up to mankind. However, in the very near future, the power of this energy will be used in anger to stop a war that had already gone on too long.

After the Trinity detonation, some of the pressure was off. The team now knew the damn thing worked – the challenge was now to make a weapon out of it. With all the hours that were worked, there was very little time for leisure. Everything was happening at break neck speed. To break up the day as well as relieve some of the tension, Allen found himself enjoying the solitude of the desert evening. There was a certain beauty as well as quiet in the desert night. Without the distraction of city lights, the sky was so dark you could swear every star in the universe was visible.

One night, about two weeks after Trinity event, Allen was taking his evening walk in the desert. He stopped at his favorite rock just to sit. The air was calm and the coolness of the desert night had started to drift in. As he looked to the sky, he saw a shooting star just starting to arc. He loved the fact that most every night he was able to see at least a dozen of them. When the shooting star was halfway across the arc, it stopped. It hovered, blinked, and then disappeared. Allen stopped and thought “Am I spending too much time here? Is stress getting to me? What I just saw is not possible!” Allen shook off those thoughts and went back to his room. It was time for bed and he was beat.

The next morning he got up and met Thomas for breakfast. They chit chatted about minor things and then Allen got the courage to ask Thomas the question. “George have you ever seen anything strange in the evening sky here. Last night I was out taking a walk and I thought I saw a shooting star. However, it did not act like a shooting star.” “What did it act like Rodney?” As Allen described what he saw, he felt like an idiot because it made no sense as he recounted the event.

Thomas looked at him and said, “Oh, you must have just seen your first Desert Fairy.” “George, what in the hell are you talking about? What is a Desert Fairy?” Thomas responded, “Rodney I am surprised you have not heard of these things. Ever since Trinity, people have been seeing strange things in the sky. Some of the brainier physics guys think what we are seeing are natural phenomena related to the after effects of the Trinity detonation. Some are even fearful that we have screwed nature up somehow. Most that have seen Desert Fairies have seen glowing orbs. Sometimes these orbs seem to come out of nowhere, stay for a while, and then vanish. Other times, they come across the sky faster than any known plane that we have in our inventory. What I would suggest Rodney, until our great thinkers figure out what they are, just enjoy them as freaks of nature.”

The work continued for another two weeks. Components for two bombs were sent to a small island by Guam using aircraft as well as the USS Indianapolis. There they would go through final assembly and be delivered to one or two unsuspecting cities in Japan. In early August, the bombs were dropped. The first on Hiroshima and the second on Nagasaki. The devastation was almost absolute. The ruling powers in Japan had seen enough to know the war was over. The world once again was looking for peace.

However back at White Sands, the work continued. The United States knew that now the atomic genie was out of the bottle, other nations would be looking to develop similar weapons. The work pressure had relaxed since the surrender of Japan, however, the days were still full. Dr. Allen and the rest of the crew had been told they were needed for a few more months and then would be able to return home.

Other than not being at home, or teaching a class, life had returned normal for Rodney Allen. He got up, worked at normal day, and then was able to have some free time. Since the war ended, the crew was allowed to go into the small town off base in their free time. They were still bounded by their security oaths, but the “noose” had become much looser.

Everything had become normal except for one thing – the Desert Fairies continued. More atomic tests were done, and more Desert Fairies appeared. They were still being studied as nobody had a clue as to what caused them. One of the real brains working in the physics lab thought they were caused by some distortion where the F1 and F2 layers of the ionosphere met. Others said they were caused by mass hysteria.

Some of the scuttle butt that circulated in the mess hall was from visiting pilots. Some had known of Foo Fighters in both Europe and the Pacific.  Foo Fighters first started becoming visible in late 1944. Many pilots had seen them, and some had chased them. They looked quite a bit like Desert Fairies. Not knowing what they were, one of the pilots came up with a silly name for them. The term Foo Fighters caught on, and pretty soon it was the name everyone used for them.

In June of 1946, Professor Allen, along with many others who worked on the Manhattan Project were released from White Sands to return to their civilian jobs. There was a huge “dog and pony” show with awards and speeches. Dr. Allen came home to an apartment which he had not seen for a year. The University had secured his former job, and he was ready to start teaching again in the fall. Because of being in the desert for a year, and not able to spend much money, he came back to Houston with quite a nest egg. He decided to do something he always wanted to do – live on the beach. He found a modest place, suitable for a single man, with a view of the Gulf that was extraordinary. The first order of business in the summer was to move out of the apartment and into his new home.

The thunder storm was now over and Dr. Allen started to nod off to sleep. There was a full day waiting for him. The war was over, his time in the desert was over, and he was back in the town he loved. He was proud of what he did to help his country. He was proud to be of service. He had no regrets. The 1946/1947 school year was just starting and it was going to be a wild ride. With a gentle smile on his face, Rodney Allen drifted off to sleep.