Sabotage in the Secret City

by Diane Fanning

  I turned off the radio. I couldn’t bear to listen any longer. What will happen to us now? And what is wrong with me? It was all good news and yet here I sit in agony. The lack of certainty unsettled me. I felt myself torn in different directions. Yes, I wanted the war to be over and the killing to end. But would the unsophisticated Midwesterner Harry Truman be able to wrap up the victory that Roosevelt and Churchill had crafted? Or would he want to diverge from FDR’s strategy and thus prolong the war?

  And what about the work I’d dedicated myself to for all these years? Would it simply go to waste? Would the government simply say, ‘Never mind. You can go home now.’ I was convinced that even if our goal was to build the most dreadful bomb the world had ever seen, our work could be used for good in peacetime. Would we be allowed to do that? Or would the authorities shut as all down and deny that we ever existed?

  My reverie was cut short by a knock on the door. I wasn’t expecting anyone but unannounced visitors on a Sunday were common. As I walked across the room to greet my unknown guest, G.G. darted past my feet and hid in the bedroom. He definitely was not a fan of strangers.

  I opened the door and doubted I was really seeing who was on the other side. She stood there in saddle shoes and a hand-knitted blue sloppy joe sweater with a big grin on her face. Her once long hair now ended at her shoulder in a Juliet style where brushed-out pin curls framed her jawline in fluffiness. Ruth – my country girl friend looking like movie star Norma Shearer on her day off. It couldn’t be Ruth, but it was.

  ‘You gonna stand there staring like a Dumb Dora or are you gonna invite me in?’

  ‘Come in, come in, come in, Ruthie! I can’t believe it’s you. What are you doing here?’

  ‘Well, you see, you never answered my last letter.’

  ‘It just got here yesterday!’ I protested.

  ‘See,’ she said, ‘the mail’s just so slow, I decided to take matters into my own hands.’

  ‘How did you get past security?’ I asked, knowing that she had been ordered off the grounds in the not so distant past when she refused to believe the official line about the death of her sister.

  ‘I was just joshing about the mail, Libby. I’m here on accounta I got my old job back.’

  ‘You got your job back? You wanted it back? I thought you were glad to see the last of this place. Come in to the kitchen with me. I’ll put on a pot of coffee.’

  ‘Gee, your place hasn’t changed much while I’ve been gone. Ceptin’ you seem to have a bigger stack of books on the floor by the radio. Why don’t you get one of those scientist boys to make you a proper bookcase?’

  ‘I don’t think any of them know how, Ruthie. They’re not handy that way.’

  ‘Really? Then who would want to marry one of them?’

  I laughed at Ruth’s practical assessment of husbands and said, ‘You haven’t answered my question about your reasons for coming back. I can’t believe you’re here – that you wanted to be here.’

  ‘I can’t think of any other place I’d rather be than right here with you – you’re my best friend in the world.’

  ‘But your mama? And your little brother?’

  ‘Mama passed, Libby.’

  ‘And you didn’t tell me?’ I said, finding it hard to believe even as the words crossed my lips.

  ‘You’re doing important war work, Libby. It’s a lot like being on the front, ceptin’ nobody is shooting at you. We hear all the time about keeping the spirits up of people like you. Can’t be giving you bad news.’

  ‘Horsefeathers, Ruthie! Friends tell friends everything.’

  ‘Whew! I’ve got a lot to tell you. Sometimes, it’s hard in a letter. None of the words seem right.’

  ‘I suppose it is. Let’s take our coffee into the living room and catch up.’

  We sat side by side on the sofa, each with one leg curled up and our bodies turned toward each other. I remained quiet for a moment, waiting for Ruthie to begin. When she seemed content to do nothing more than sip on her cup and make pleasantries about how tasty it was, I interrupted. ‘Spill it, Ruthie.’

  ‘Okay, okay. Me and Ma worked out a nice routine, dividin’ the housework and yardwork, taking turns mindin’ my little brother Clyde. You wouldn’t believe how much that boy has grown and he was gettin’ old enough to take on some chores of his own. Not too long ago, he started gatherin’ the eggs ev’ry mornin’.’

  ‘Money was tight but Ma was still takin’ in laundry to make some pin money and I was cleanin’ house for the Carters and the Temples once a week. So we got by. Then my brother Hank came home from the war. He was so miserable, Libby. He felt worthless, useless and didn’t see much reason for livin’ – kept callin’ himself a burden. It was pitiful.’

  ‘You were going through all of this and you sent me cheery little letters?’

  ‘I know, I know, Libby. I just didn’t know how to say it. And besides, when I was writin’ to you, I just forgot about all my problems for a while.’

  ‘Sorry I interrupted, go on with your story.’ I couldn’t believe how blind I’d been to her hardships.

  ‘The war was hard on Hank. All that killin’ and dyin’ and gunfire and smoke and stench and mud. Sometimes he’d wake up in the night, screamin’ to beat the band. But the worst part was his arm. He still had it, but it was pretty useless. It just hung by his side like an empty sleeve. Some days he’d rage at it, some days he’d weep over it.

  ‘But then Mary Sue started comin’ round. She’d been stuck on Hank as long as I can remember. We worried that his tempers or his down-in-the-dumps times would run her off and Hank would be bluer than ever. That girl, though, she kept comin’ back, day after day. One morning, we noticed Hank had started takin’ care to look his best when it was time for her to visit. He started workin’ round the house, too – he got Clyde to help him out when a second hand was needed and soon they were a good team.

  ‘Then one day, Hank asked if Mary Sue could stay for supper. When Ma said it was okay, Hank went outside and picked some zinnias and wildflowers and arranged them in a Mason jar on the dining room table. I had a fork halfway to my mouth when Hank stood up and announced that he and Mary Sue were engaged to be married. Ma pulled out a dusty bottle of Jack Daniels from the back of a cabinet and we toasted the couple more than once. And the next month, sure enough, they got hitched.

  ‘Right after the wedding, Ma started gettin’ sickly and Mary Sue stepped right in to nurse her while I took care of Ma’s chores. I couldn’t keep up with the ironing she’d been takin’ in and I had to let that go. Ma got right upset. She kept insistin’ that I just had to fill in for a short while until she was on her feet again. That never happened, of course.

  ‘So, there we were. A man with a bum arm, a little boy who tried his best and now Mary Sue was with child. I started feelin’ like one more mouth to feed. And, on top of that, seemed like I was intrudin’ on the privacy of newlyweds.

  ‘First I called Lieutenant Crenshaw and asked him if I would be allowed to come back. He didn’t think it would be a problem. I talked it over with Hank and Mary Sue. Sure, they argued against it but I could tell it was a relief when I promised to send them some money every month if I got my job back. Next thing I knew, I got a letter from the administrative office telling me when I’d start my new job and thankin’ me for helpin’ the war effort. And here I am.’

  ‘You should have called me to pick you up at the train station, Ruthie. After all, I still have your brother Hank’s car.’

  ‘I wanted to surprise you.’

  ‘You sure did that.’

  ‘I don’t know what I’ll do when the work here is done. I know it won’t be long since the war’s almost over …’

  ‘Don’t be hasty, Ruthie.’

  ‘Hasty? Haven’t you been listenin’ to the news. We’re closing in on Berlin thisaway,’ she said swinging one fist from her side to her middle, ‘and the Russkies are moving closer from thisaway.’ She swung her other arm in to meet the fir
st. ‘And smash. They’re done. The Nazis are in such bad shape we captured a soldier boy who was only eleven years old.’

  ‘Yes. Everything does look like it’s drawing to an end in Europe but we’re still fighting in the Pacific. Mrs Childress up the street just learned that her brother was killed in a battle at Iwo Jima.’

  ‘Aw, don’t fret about that, Libby. Those Japs will surrender as soon as Europe falls.’

  ‘I doubt it, Ruthie. We don’t completely understand the Japanese people. Many of them were willing to climb into a cockpit and fly to Pearl Harbor knowing that they did not have enough fuel to return home. If they were that dedicated at the beginning of this conflict, how much more determined will they be when the end is near. An invasion would likely be street-to-street combat that could go on for years with more of our boys being wounded or dying – maybe even more than we’ve lost already.’

  ‘You think they’re that strong without the Nazis tying us up on another front?’

  ‘Look at all of us, Ruthie. From coast to coast, Americans have sacrificed their men to the war, their women to the factories and their simple pleasures for the duration. How much more would we be willing to give if it was our nation being invaded?’

  ‘Then we need to find a way to beat them without landing on their territory. But how?’

  The answer was on the tip of my tongue. I knew what horror we labored to unleash on the innocent civilians of Japan but I could not speak of it. I turned away. I couldn’t bear to look at her while I lied. ‘I don’t know, Ruthie. I simply don’t know.’

  THREE

  Monday morning, as I set up my lab space to commence the final steps of shipment preparation, my thoughts were with Ruthie. I had missed her a lot while she was away but I compartmentalized that pain with all the other things I’d learned to do without during the war. I knew there was nothing I could do about any of it, therefore, any thought expended on any deprivations was a waste of time.

  I wondered often about the nature of our relationship. On the surface, we seemed ill-matched to become friends. We had striking differences in education, cultural and social environments and expectations for the future. Yet, somehow, we felt like kindred souls. Contemplating that conundrum could keep my mind busy through eternity.

  However, the thrill of being able to work with the new single-pan analytical balance scale, just created by a Swiss engineer, soon overshadowed any introspective questions. I had no idea how I ended up with one of the very few in the country but counted it a blessing. Its measurements were more accurate than the double-pan models we’d been using. That made me feel far more confident about my data as I prepared my shipment.

  By the end of the day, the package was ready. I called and arranged for a military escort for a ride to the drop-off building tomorrow morning. It was close by and the package wasn’t heavy; I could have easily walked it over. But the military had their rules and I tried to follow them whenever they weren’t explicitly in my way.

  I smiled as I climbed into the jeep. Tuesday morning was a lovely time for a drive. The woods were dotted with the white blossoms of dogwoods and the purplish-pink buds of the Judas trees. The scent of the air was intoxicating – enhanced by the fresh green growth and flowers of spring.

  While we drove along, the soldier and I talked about the president and our sadness over his death. He was telling me a story about how, years ago, his grandfather had had lunch with the first lady when she came to talk to the Bonus marchers who had gathered in Washington, D.C. ‘My granddad was playing a fiddle tune for her when—’

  I jerked forward in my seat as the soldier slammed on his brakes. Up ahead we could see the building but smoke was curling out from the eaves and flames licked the inside of the windows.

  ‘I got to get you out of here.’

  ‘No,’ I shouted. ‘I have to make the delivery.’

  Turning the jeep around, he said, ‘Ma’am, there’s something going on here that’s not right. I’m charged with safeguarding your person.’

  When he shoved the gear stick into reverse to complete the turn, I jumped out.

  He lurched back, then forward and came to a stop. ‘Get in,’ he shouted, waving his arms in the air.

  ‘No. I’ve got a job to do and I’m going to do it.’

  ‘Ma’am,’ he said, stepping out into the street, ‘with all due respect, I am responsible for you. Please get back in the vehicle.’

  I turned away from him and trudged uphill toward the burning building. He hurried to catch up, pleading with me to listen to him. When he touched my arm, I jerked away and shouted, ‘Don’t you touch me.’

  He exhaled a noisy breath. ‘Okay, okay. But I’m not leaving your side.’

  ‘Fine.’

  I reached the building, but saw no sign of the courier. I worried that he had already been inside when the fire erupted. I ran to the door but it was engulfed in flames. The intensity was growing with every passing moment. I heard the approaching clang of our new fire truck but I was too close to the billowing smoke of the burning structure to see more than a foot ahead of me. I stepped back away from the source and spotted the emergency vehicle approaching with a convoy of military jeeps and trucks trailing right behind.

  I wasn’t sure what to do. I’d been told to go to the rendezvous point and if the courier was not there, I should go inside and wait for his arrival or for someone to arrive and present me with a new set of orders – but I certainly couldn’t go inside. My soldier rushed to assist the firefighters – so much for always staying by my side. I felt quite vulnerable standing on the edge of the chaos holding the precious cargo in my hands.

  My suspicious mind was building a case around the possibility that the fire was merely a ruse to isolate me and steal the crystals. I was thinking about driving off in the jeep, securing the package in the lab and returning for the soldier, when I heard my name shouted in a very familiar voice. The rigid posture and stony face of Lieutenant Colonel Crenshaw headed my way.

  ‘Clark!’ he said as he got near. ‘What in the blue blazes are you doing standing out here in the open?’

  ‘Sir?’

  ‘When you are carrying valuable materials, you don’t post yourself in an exposed position. What were you thinking?’

  Crenshaw was such a fat head. ‘Well, sir,’ I said, ‘I was thinking that since the place I was supposed to be right now was as hot as blue blazes, I ought not to go inside.’

  He poked a finger in my face and said, ‘This is a matter of national security. This is a grave situation. It could be an act of sabotage. I will not tolerate a flippant attitude from you.’

  My jaw closed tight and I drew down my spontaneous, angry reaction. Through gritted teeth, I said, ‘Sir, I feel the need to remind you that I am not part of the military. As such, I am not required to follow your commands even when I have willingly agreed to assist a military mission as I am doing now.’

  ‘You people are becoming more of a problem every day.’

  ‘What people are you referring to, sir. The civilians at Oak Ridge – or just the women?’

  ‘Scientists,’ he hissed. ‘And not just here, at every installation. I’ve been briefed. I know what’s going on. Some of you are having second thoughts about your work. We’ve got our eyes on you.’

  ‘Tell me, Lieutenant Colonel, how can we possibly have second thoughts when no one has actually explained what exactly it is that we’re doing. No one has informed us of the end result of our work. No one has deemed that we have a need to know.’

  ‘I’m not naïve, Miss Clark. I know how you scientists are. You never accept anything you are told. You question it all. And when you don’t get answers, you theorize until you reach a conclusion. None of you would survive in the army.’

  ‘You see something wrong with seeking the truth?’

  ‘Don’t be such an idealist. Truth is often a casualty of war.’

  ‘And you wonder why we do not accept what you tell us at face value?’


  Crenshaw placed his hands on his hips and leaned his upper body into my space as he shouted, ‘Why don’t you tell me the truth about your little group of rebellious misfits? Tell me, right now, who are the people in your lab who are questioning your mission? Who is having doubts about continuing the work? Why don’t you act like a patriot?’

  ‘If I weren’t, sir, I wouldn’t be here,’ I yelled back at him.

  He stepped back and lowered his voice. ‘You’re avoiding my other questions and jeopardizing the safety of our mission in doing so.’

  ‘Applesauce! We are jeopardizing nothing. In fact, you owe us all a debt of gratitude. Do you really think that you could have wrapped up the spy ring without our assistance? As a result, you now know the names of more members of our group. They weren’t happy about being exposed to the military but knew that doing the right thing sometimes calls for sacrifice. And yet, you still are not satisfied. And you will not find your satisfaction from me.’

  ‘So, there are some in your group who would work to sabotage our mission?’

  My hands wanted to fly up in the air in exasperation but they were impeded by the package I was carrying, making me shake in exasperation. ‘Just stop asking me, Crenshaw. I know of no one whom I would suspect of setting this fire. Which, by the way, you don’t even know if anyone deliberately started – it could have been nothing more than an electrical short. What you should be concerned about is whether or not the courier died in that blaze.’

  ‘If you didn’t have the protection of General Gates …’

  ‘What? What would you do?’

  Crenshaw’s jaw throbbed but he didn’t say another word – not even a goodbye when I hopped into the jeep. I went back to the lab and secured the package until I received new delivery instructions.

  FOUR

  My life felt full of complicated relationships: Ruth, Crenshaw, my mother, and my off-again, on-again romantically-flavored bond with Teddy. For the last couple of years, I’d been blaming the war for this state of affairs. Lately, however, I’ve been trying to discern how much of the erratic nature of my interpersonal social interactions was generated by me, consciously or unconsciously.