Abstract and Keywords

In response to growing concerns about the dangers of atomic weapons, Richard Gerstell, a consultant to the Civil Defense Board, produced a series of informative books, pamphlets, and articles for popular magazines. Gertstell explained in simple terms the nature of atomic weapons and the measures that should be taken to reduce the risk of injury and increase the chances of survival in the event of an atomic attack.

Document

AFTER service in the wartime Navy and postwar work in boarding radioactively “hot” ships in the Bikini tests, I received a call from the Department of Defense to help draw up plans for protection of the civilian population against possible atomic attack. As far as we knew, Russia at that time did not have the bomb, but we were taking no chances. When I went to Washington to report for duty, I felt pretty sure that atomic destruction for a sizable portion of the human race was inevitable. Many others who, like myself, had got a worm’s-eye view of the Bikini shambles felt the same way. The title of a book which grew out of this close-up viewpoint summed up our gloom well. It was called No Place to Hide.

Today, after having gone over the full and integrated reports of the Bikini tests as well as preliminary reports from the later tests of newer bombs at Eniwetok, and thus having obtained a comprehensive over-all picture, I have frankly changed my mind. I have concluded—and I honestly believe—that although the atomic bomb does indeed come up to its billing as the most destructive weapon devised by man, it definitely does not mean the liquidation of mankind. You would, for instance, have a difficult time trying to convince a citizen of Tokyo that he suffered less than did the inhabitants of Hiroshima and Nagasaki; for although 66,000 died in Hiroshima and 39,000 in Nagasaki, no fewer than 84,000 perished in the fire-bomb raid on Tokyo in March, 1945. Truthfully, I would as soon be in an atomic raid as in a saturation blockbuster or incendiary bombing.

Actually in major respects the atomic bomb is similar in effect to conventional bombs, and, just as there are common-sense precautions to be taken against the ordinary bomb, so are there practical safety measures to be taken against the nuclear weapon. And these all of us may very well commit to memory. To paraphrase in reverse that horrendous book title, there most definitely is some place to hide.

It has been estimated that in the event of attack upon this country, thirty minutes’ warning, even with radar defenses, is often the most that can be expected. Yet thirty minutes, or even a fraction of that, can be a long-enough time in which to take those measures that will reduce to a minimum the human injuries caused by the atomic bomb.

Basically, the only difference between the atomic bomb and the conventional explosive bomb lies in the nuclear weapon’s radioactivity, which is much less of a wartime threat than most people believe. The atomic bomb’s most destructive elements are its blast and beat, which—although of far greater magnitude—are the same forces as in the ordinary bomb, and what is a defense against the blast and heat of one is a defense against the same two forces of the other.

An atomic explosion is sometimes an eccentric thing. In Nagasaki, for example, crude timber shelters covered with four feet of ordinary earth remained standing 100 yards from ground zero, the surface point directly beneath the detonation, while tile roofs were blown off buildings four miles away. The blast may bounce ineffectively off one wall and richochet across a street to demolish another. Yet, in general the explosion follows certain predictable patterns of behavior.

It is known, for example, that relatively few direct injuries are caused by the blast or the actual “squeezing” of the bomb’s pressure wave. Most injuries and fatalities are results of the blast’s indirect effects—from being thrown against something or struck by a falling object. Therefore, in terms of individual protection, a person with only a few seconds’ warning would lessen his chances of injury by lying flat on his stomach, face in his arms, eyes closed tightly. Instead of looking up immediately, he should remain in that position for eight or ten seconds after the detonation. This would be not only a protection against such things as flying glass but also against the temporary five minutes or so of blindness that could result from looking into the explosion’s dazzling burst of light.

If one were outside at the time of a raid, this prone position should be taken in a ditch or gutter or against the base of some substantial structure—not a flimsy affair that might possibly fall on him. Inside a building, the best shelter would be the basement, and there a person should lie next to a wall, away from the windows, or against the base of some strong supporting column; definitely not in the middle of the floor, where the danger of falling beams is much greater. Although there is always a risk of being trapped in the basement, the upper floors hold the greatest hazards; for those floors—aside from being open to the radiological dangers which I will mention later—might collapse.

Except very near the point of detonation, flash burns—the second greatest cause of injury and death—can usually be avoided by the flimsiest of shielding. The ditch, gutter or wall that affords the best protection against the bomb’s blast would act even as a more effective barrier against its heat. Thin cotton cloth might do the trick also. In Japan it was noted that many people suffered flower-shaped burns. It was learned that this was caused by the designs on their blouses, the lightly colored material reflecting the heat rays, the darker patterns absorbing and letting them through. In the event of an emergency, a person should always wear long trousers or slacks and loose-fitting light-colored blouses with full-length sleeves buttoned at the wrist. A hat, brim down, could help prevent many a face burn. Women should never go bare-legged.

Even when the two wartime raids came as complete surprises, even when the inhabitants did not have the knowledge or time to use the measures of protection known today, in the tinderbox city of Hiroshima slightly more than one half of the people a mile from ground zero survived the catastrophe; and in Nagasaki, 69 out of 100 persons at that same distance lived to tell of their experiences. Almost every one of the survivors had had some chance shielding. And, incidentally, one reason why death and destruction were more nearly complete at Hiroshima was that that city is flat while Nagasaki has a rolling terrain. This is impressive proof of the value of barriers.

In the event of a threatened raid, there are many precautionary household measures that can and should be taken. In World War II, fire was the great destroyer, and since the heat flash of an atomic bomb could set fire to inflammable materials more than two miles from the point of detonation, it probably would be the great destroyer again. Thus it would be important to keep exposed inflammable matter to a minimum. Trash should be put in cans and covered tightly, dry leaves should be raked away from the home. Within the house, oil burners should be shut off at the first alert, pilot lights turned off in gas stoves and water heaters, the fuel and draft doors to coal-burning furnaces and wood stoves closed. Even if an attack were to come without warning, these things should be done as quickly as possible. Flashlights should be kept handy. Since there always is a danger that the shaking and twisting of buildings by a bomb’s blast could rupture gas pipes and oil lines, it would be a foolish person who lighted a match to see his way in the darkness.

A house should be as much of an airtight compartment as it is possible to make it—doors closed, windows shut and blinds drawn. This is protection not only from fire sparks and glass splinters—in atomic explosions, unlike other kinds, windows are blown inward—but also from the nuclear weapon’s radioactivity.

This radioactivity, which is the atomic bomb’s only basic added hazard, is, for the layman, perhaps the most widely feared of all its forces. Many people believe that there is no defense against the bomb’s invisible but penetrating ionizing rays and particles. Actually, radioactivity is the least of the nuclear bomb’s threats; still, to combat even the comparatively small but important threat it does hold, a new and proved military science has arisen. Radiological defense, which consists of the detection and avoidance of radioactive hazards, is something which, in a quiet but effective way, the Government has been perfecting for several years.…

The radiological hazards of the atomic bomb fall into two classifications and, in order to prevent panic and injury, it is important for everyone to know them. First are the short-lived, “prompt” radiations. These consist of X rays, gamma rays and neutrons that are thrown off at the very second of explosion and last only as long as the detonation itself. Second are the “lingering” radiations. These consist of invisible radioactive fission products—or bomb “ashes”—and just as invisible hot bits of unexploded uranium and plutonium atoms that failed to undergo fission when the weapon was detonated. The lingerers may last for seconds or for years.

Whether a raided community will face much—or any—lingering radiation depends primarily upon the level at which the bomb is exploded. In a mid-air detonation, such as at Hiroshima and Nagasaki, the only serious radiation dangers are the short-lived ones, most of the bomb wastes being swept into the sky by the swiftly rising bomb cloud. A near-surface detonation may result in some lingering contamination, but only rarely will it cover more than a fraction of a square mile. It is in the underwater bombing, where all the radioactive wastes are trapped by the water and mist and scattered spottily over as much as seven or eight square miles, that great danger of lingering radioactivity exists.

The only protection against the bomb’s short-lived, prompt radiations is adequate shielding at the moment of explosion. In the immediate vicinity of ground zero, reasonable safety is afforded by one foot of steel, three feet of concrete and five feet of earth. At 1000 yards, the comparative thicknesses fall roughly to five inches of steel, fifteen inches of concrete and twenty-five inches of earth. A mile from zero, a fraction of an inch of steel and several inches of concrete are all that would be required. It should be recalled here that of all the deaths and injuries at Hiroshima and Nagasaki, only 15 per cent were caused by radiation, and this at a time when whoever was sheltered was sheltered only by accident.

The basement of a building affords not only the most adequate protection against the atomic bomb’s blast and heat but also against its short-lived, prompt radiations; for not only would a person be best sheltered there by surrounding structures but he would also have more radiation barriers—steel, concrete, wood and earth—between him and the bomb. High in a building, there would be few such radiation-absorbing materials in the path of the straight-traveling rays and particles. Window glass would let them in readily and even scatter them about.

Because the blast of the atomic bomb is often a spotty thing, a building even close to the point of the explosion might suffer little structural damage, but at the same time, this would not necessarily imply that it would not be riddled with prompt rays and neutrons. These short-lived rays and particles, while having no visible effect upon building materials—no holes, no breakage—might cause artificial, lingering radioactivity in such household items as silverware and prescription drugs, although they would not damage bandages and other common first-aid supplies in the medicine cabinet. The wise person, after a raid, would be wary of the silverware, and throw away the prescription drugs.…

While protection against short-lived radiation is a matter of adequate shielding at the moment of the detonation, protection against lingering radio activity is more than that. Although immediate shielding is important, too, it is also a matter of avoiding contaminated objects and areas after the actual explosion.

In the rarer low-level or underwater bombings—rarer because the atomic bomb is basically an antimatériel weapon and only the midair explosion uses to their full potential the bomb’s forces of blast and heat—there is relatively little that can be done to prevent lingering contamination in the immediate area of an explosion. Even most of the houses in that vicinity would not be free of it; some of the bomb wastes would enter through broken windows, drift down chimneys or seep through cracks. Yet many things can be done to reduce such pollution.

All windows should be kept shut, and broken ones promptly covered with cardboard or blankets. All fire-place flues should be closed. Because wind could blow the hot ashes around or the radioactive wastes could fall out of drifting bomb clouds, householders even in areas outside the stricken one should follow these same precautions.

Also, much pollution could be brought into a house by persons, especially members of defense and rescue squads, carrying the invisible wastes on their clothes and shoes. Therefore shoes and outer garments should be removed and kept outside, later to be scrubbed in disposable tubs. The family washing machine would not be good to use here, as it might become contaminated and make other garments slightly radio active. It would be safest for anyone connected with any defense or rescue teams to wear overalls and rubbers as well as a hat at his job.

A shower with plenty of soap and water is the best means of cleansing body surfaces of all radioactive materials. At Bikini it seemed as if we were always showering. Even radioactive ships were somewhat cooled down by fire hoses. In taking a shower, a person should pay particular attention to his hair, shampooing it thoroughly, for there is where heat tends to accumulate. It also accumulates under the fingernails. A personal check by a meter reader, even after a shower, would be a sound extra precautionary move.…

Radioactivity is all around us. It is something with which each of us has lived since birth. If I took a Geiger counter in my band and held it in the peaceful quiet of my home, I probably would get about twelve telltale clicks a minute, mostly because of cosmic radiations from the heavens. These small but readily detectable amounts of radioactivity rarely, if ever, are harmful. Large amounts of radioactivity definitely are, but even then the degree of injury depends upon how much of the body surface is exposed to it.

It is believed from past experience that detectable human injuries rarely result from the absorption of less than one roentgen, that damage does not become apparent until about twenty-five roentgens and that death is not a certainty until the body has soaked up more than 600 roentgens. In terms of distances from ground zero, this means that anyone caught completely unsheltered within 1000 yards of a detonation probably would absorb a fatal amount of radiation. But it also means that the fatality rate would fall off rapidly until, at a little over a mile, although there would be injuries, very few would cause death. Remember, that’s for the completely unsheltered.…

Lingering radioactive dusts on the outside of the body are not likely to be highly dangerous. Swallowed, however, they could cause trouble. That is why clean hands and fingernails are important: why cuts should be bandaged as soon as possible; why a person in a contaminated area should not smoke or wipe his sleeve on his face; why, unless checked by a meter reader, unpackaged food should not be eaten; why bottled and canned goods should not be opened until washed thoroughly, or cooking and eating utensils used until scrubbed clean. The person who thinks he has eaten highly radioactive food should lose no time in ridding himself of it.

One of the lessons learned at Bikini was the value of knowing about radioactive decay time. With this knowledge many lives could be saved in time of war. It is known that the intensity of radiation drops very quickly during the early postraid periods; that, at the end of the first fifteen minutes, the heat of lingering radioactivity is usually equal to only about one fifteenth of that existing a minute after the detonation; and that after an hour it is only one sixtieth of its original intensity.

For this reason a person should never be in too much of a hurry to leave his home or shelter after a raid. Even a ten-or fifteen-minute delay could be all-important. And then, too, anyone leaving his home without waiting for official word might be moving needlessly from a relatively cool zone into a hotter one.

Protection against the atomic bomb’s lingering radioactivity is to a great extent a matter of clear thinking, whether one is inside a building or on the street. The person unable to reach some underground shelter such as a subway should, in addition to lying face down beside some high, protecting barrier, also try to shield himself from possible radioactive bomb wastes. A cover of a few sheets of newspaper or a board might very well do it, but a raincoat or a torn strip of awning would be better. And later, when getting up, it would be important to crawl slowly from under the covering, avoiding, wherever possible, waste materials that might be on it.

Of course, in the event of attack, fire and other hazards existing after a raid might force many people to leave their homes and shelters without waiting for official announcements. This is the point at which it would be important for each individual to be able to identify the level at which the bomb was exploded. Should there be a high-rising, pinkish-while mushroom of a cloud in the sky, one would know that the bomb had been detonated in mid-air and that there would be almost nothing to fear from lingering radioactivity. Should he see darker, squatty, low-flying clouds, indicating a near-the-surface detonation, or a water-spout or mist wave that would indicate an underwater bombing, he would then know that he might well face hazardous ground contamination, and he could take proper precautions.

During evacuation under conditions of ground pollution, the carrying of excessive baggage would be foolish. One change of clothing, including shoes—and everything safe from contamination in a suitcase or bag—is all a person should take with him. He should also wear a hat and, if possible, rubbers. Rags wrapped around his shoes, if rubbers weren’t available, would be a worthwhile precaution. Once in an area of safety, he should shower and change his clothing, burying or destroying his old garments.

One of the myths surrounding radioactivity—and there are many, such as mass sterility and permanently uninhabitable “doomed areas”—is that the bodies of the dead give off deadly rays and particles. And I have read articles in which authors, discussing some theoretical bombings of our large cities, described how trenches would have to be dug twenty feet deep and the bodies picked up with long-handled cranes; and, once the bodies were buried in a mass grave, how they would have to be covered with twelve feet of concrete. This is untrue. Although the coins in their pockets might be temporarily heated, there is little chance of being burned by handling the bodies of the dead or by handling the injured.

Everyone should do whatever is possible to help the injured. If much dust was raised in freeing someone from wreckage, a handkerchief around the nose and mouth would help prevent the inhalation of dangerous amounts of radioactive wastes. And in applying first aid, if one should have to use strips of his own clothing or that of the victim, these should be torn from the undergarments; they are least likely to be polluted.

Actually there is nothing that is new or mysterious about radioactivity. Although it has been brought forcefully to the foreground by the atomic bomb, its principles and its injurious factors have for many decades been the subject of laboratory study. More, for example, is known about radiological injuries than is known about polio or the common cold. Basically, radioactivity is no greater a threat in war-time than are typhoid fever and other diseases that often follow the ravages of a bombing.

The terrible and shameful part of the whole thing is that radioactivity, which has made a great contribution to medical science, must be compared to a disease. Its discovery was heralded as a gift and a blessing to mankind. But perhaps, if understanding among nations improves sufficiently, it will be once again. Although there are defenses against the atomic bomb—and the world can go on living with it just as it has lived with poison gas and all the other former portents of mass destruction—the best defense of all is peace among men. Perhaps, in their striving for defenses against one another, the nations of the world will find and use the most obvious one.

Questions:

1) According to Gerstell, what was the primary threat posed by atomic weapons? How did they differ from conventional weapons?

2) What measures should be taken to prepare for an atomic attack? What measures should be taken during an atomic attack? Do these measures seem reasonable?

3) What tone does Gerstell adopt in this article? Why does he emphasize “facts” and “truth”? Is the intent to inform and educate or to calm and reassure?