Category: War
You always assume anything really interesting must have happened on the other side of the world. I rather suspect kids raised in Jerusalem, Athens, or Volgograd feel pretty blasé about their local history as well. However, as a product of the American Deep South myself, there was quite a lot of tragic stuff that once unfolded in my backyard.
It was the early summer of 1863, and America was rabid to tear itself apart. The war had been going on for two long bloody years, and the ultimate outcome was far from certain. Lee and Longstreet were preparing to spend the Army of Northern Virginia at Gettysburg. Simultaneously some 1,000 miles to the Southwest 70,000 Federal troops under US Grant stood poised to wrest control of a little Mississippi town called Vicksburg from General John Pemberton’s 33,000 Confederates.
Vicksburg held a commanding view of the Mississippi River, then the equivalent of the nation’s only north-south interstate highway. Pemberton’s Confederates held it. Grant’s Federals wanted it. The stage was set for an epic siege.
Rivers of ink have been spilt exploring the innermost thoughts, campaigns, successes, and failures of the Generals. These rarefied military rock stars get all the proper press. However, it isn’t the Generals who typically do the fighting and dying. It is in the small things and the normal folk where the true tragedy and triumph may be found. Such a poignant event occurred on a friend’s plantation just outside Vicksburg proper. The farm and associated holdings have been in my buddy’s family for as far back as institutional memory might span.
The Fog of War
This plantation had the poor fortune of hosting the most favorable river landing for Union troops staging for the pending siege. All the local males of military age had long since left to fight. What remained to tend the plantation was the matriarch, the young ladies of the family, and the standard complement of slaves. The entire Neapolitan mob toiled together to fight off rank starvation.
US Grant himself along with all of his entourage had landed the day before, swept through like locusts, and moved on. One of the young Union officers had a horse that had come up lame. He appropriated another from the family stable but apologized profusely for the imposition. Draft animals in this place at this time could literally spell the difference between life and death, and the young officer did not confiscate this one lightly.
As quickly as the Union command group had arrived it was gone, moved on to the more pressing affairs of strangling the population of Vicksburg. The following day, however, there landed a solitary Union officer. He was armed, inebriated, and looking for trouble.
This Federal officer was a straggler. The specifics of his story were never known. However, when he realized both the local men as well as his superiors were long since gone he felt it was time to become acquainted with the local ladies.
This man carried a .58-caliber single-shot horse pistol as he made his way up onto the expansive porch of the plantation house. The matriarch planted herself in the doorway and forbade him entry into her home. The flower of young genteel Southern womanhood resided therein, and she could justifiably see little good to come from this Yankee drunkard gaining entry. The older woman was of modest build, however, and the younger man fairly strapping. Even in his intoxicated state, it became obvious that he was soon to get past her.
At the same time, the senior male slave was industriously digging a rose bed in front of the house, breaking up the ground with a heavy pickaxe. He was close enough to hear the matriarch’s frantic remonstrations but kept to himself. When the lady of the house planted herself boldly across the doorway the drunken soldier placed his hand on the butt of his pistol. He had traveled far from home to teach these Rebels a lesson, and no slight woman past her prime was going to deprive him of some proper companionship.
The family slave then felt compelled to act. While the inebriated Yankee argued vociferously with the lady of the house this man quietly walked up the steps behind him, swung the pickaxe he had previously been using on the rose bed, and buried the spike end up to the handle in the randy Federal’s skull. The Union officer was dead before he hit the porch.
The Gun
For many officers serving in the American Civil War, it was a come-as-you-are fight. The Union had the resources to kit out large combat formations in uniform clothing and weapons. Confederates were frequently a more motley mob. However, even Federal officers typically bought their own swords and sidearms.
I have seen a photograph of the pistol this hapless Union officer wielded that fateful day back in 1863. As near as I could tell it was a Model 1855 Harper’s Ferry single shot horse pistol. These heavy guns were typically carried across the pommel of the saddle in a symmetrical holster balanced on the opposite side by the gun’s detachable shoulder stock. They were intended to bring down an enemy’s mount if necessary. These .58-caliber guns were evolutionary developments of the original Model 1805 US Marshal Harper’s Ferry flintlock pistols.
Those earliest guns represented the first design produced by an American national armory. This flintlock weapon was the standard handgun of the American Dragoons who fought during the War of 1812. This same basic chassis was upgraded several times between 1805 and the onset of the Civil War.
The first .54-caliber M1805 guns were copied from the 1798-vintage French Pistolet Modele An. IX. The final model of 1855 featured octagonal rifling that tapered to a smoothbore at the muzzle. The ramrod was positively retained on a swivel to prevent its loss while reloading from horseback.
Most of these guns were primed using the notoriously unreliable Maynard tape priming system. They typically launched a 450-grain Minie ball with annular grease grooves. Though clearly obsolete on a battlefield liberally populated with revolvers, these massive guns still offered the sort of knockdown power usually reserved for shoulder arms.
The Rest of the Story
The matriarch of the family was rendered hysterical by the loyal slave’s spontaneous actions. While she was grateful that he had so ably defended the virtue of the young ladies inside the house, she was also justifiably terrified about what the Federals might do to them all once they discovered the killing. The story goes that the black man retrieved his pickaxe from the man’s skull and casually observed, “Well, ma’am, I’m digging an awful nice rose bed right over there.”
The slave buried the man on the spot before sowing his rose bushes liberally across the top of the grave. The heavy single-shot handgun has since been passed down through the generations all the way to the present. No one ever came inquiring after the fallen Union officer, and I suppose his corpse remains undisturbed underneath that Mississippi rose bed to this very day.
Two years later the war finally ground to its gory conclusion. The Union officer who had appropriated the horse was assigned to occupation duty in New Orleans. He posted a letter back to the matriarch of the plantation once again apologizing for having taken the animal and including fair monetary compensation for the loss. This letter remains in the family today as well.
Ruminations
Most modern students of history weigh slavery as the primary causative agent behind this bloodiest war in American history. The ownership of human beings by other humans is morally repugnant to the civilized mind, so this makes for a reasonable narrative. Interestingly, roughly 90% of those fighting for the Confederacy did indeed not own slaves. However, they were typically young and, like most junior soldiers today, had not the time to accumulate much in the way of possessions.
The capacity of individual states to determine their own destinies fundamentally shifted with the American Civil War. The founders never could have imagined the ponderous leviathan that the US federal government has become in the modern age. It is the most behemoth undertaking in all of human history. The expansive powers wielded by the US federal government would have been utterly terrifying to men who had staked their fortunes and their lives on an existential fight to throw off the oppressive tyranny of King George III, his intrusive governance, and his onerous taxes.
The concept of states’ rights died in 1865 along with the doomed Confederate cause. With the benefit of hindsight, this was indeed a modest price to pay to retire the reprehensible practice of slavery. Amidst an entire nation at war with itself, however, one small tragic drama played out on the front porch of a plantation house during a hot summer afternoon outside Vicksburg, Mississippi. This hapless Union officer’s unwitting contribution no doubt enhanced some simply superb Southern roses.
In the early 1960s, a tidy little war broke out along the border between Indonesia and East Malaysia on the island of Borneo. European colonialism had subdivided the planet into a bewildering amalgam of fiefdoms and protectorates, and the sundry peoples involved yearned to define themselves in the aftermath of the Second World War. On August 29, 1964, this tidy little war got quite messy.
Lance Corporal Amarjit Pun was the second-in-command for the point section of 10 Platoon, C Company, 2d Gurkha Rifles, on a company-strength patrol along the border south of Kumpang Langir. A company-sized element can be unwieldy on a protracted combat patrol, and all involved were looking forward to getting back to base for some rack time. However, as the patrol headed for home, they unwittingly walked into a kill zone.
The ambush was of the classic sort. Indonesian infantry well concealed in the jungle underbrush allowed the Gurkhas to walk deep into their killing ground before initiating the ambush with a murderous rain of small arms fire. In the first salvo, Lance Corporal Amarjit’s section commander was grievously wounded, while one of his NCOs was killed outright. The light machinegun team was also taken out of action. The Number 1 gunner was killed and his Number 2 badly hurt. Another rifleman was hit as well. The situation for LCPL Amarjit’s Gurkhas looked grave.
It is the most basic tenet of Infantry training to instinctively assault through an ambush. This goes against every natural urge a man might have in combat. When faced with murderous fire from an unexpected quarter, the natural response is to drop or hide. However, hesitating inside a kill zone equals violent gory death.
A friend who landed on Omaha Beach on June 6, 1944, once told me that stagnation meant dying. He said the fire coming from the German pillboxes was indeed overwhelming, but that combat leaders on the ground pushed their men forward into the chaos. He explained that he charged across the beach to cover, but that every member of his small unit that hesitated on that beach died.
Infantry soldiers are therefore trained on immediate action drills in response to an ambush. They are expected to react instinctively without a great deal of conscious thought. Sometimes that works, and sometimes it doesn’t. In the case of LCPL Amarjit Pun, this compact little man seized the initiative and took charge.
Turning the Tide
LCPL Amarjit charged forward and retrieved the fallen L4 Bren gun intending on using the discarded weapon on the attackers to help break the ambush. As he hefted the heavy gun another burst of fire raked over him, striking the Bren and putting it out of action. A lesser man might at this point have run or broken. LCPL Amarjit, however, was a Gurkha.
Amarjit Pun stood his ground in the center of the worn jungle track and unlimbered his British-issue L2A3 Sterling submachinegun. Fire poured in from Indonesian troops concealed a mere ten yards away. LCPL Amarjit thumbed his selector to full auto and squeezed the trigger, raking the jungle with 9mm rounds.
Amarjit emptied his Sterling at its cyclic rate and dropped the empty magazine. All the while he shouted encouragement to his comrades. He fished out a second 34-round mag, shoved it into the gun, jacked the bolt back, and emptied it at the nearby Indonesians as well. Throughout it all, heavy fire from the ambushing soldiers ripped the jungle and tore Amarjit’s patrol to ribbons. LCPL Amarjit burned through magazines as fast as he could cycle the gun.
The Weapons
While the Bren light machinegun has become irrevocably associated with British and Commonwealth troops fighting everywhere from North Africa in World War 2 to the Falklands, the gun was actually a Czech design. A license-produced version of the Czech ZGB 33 light machinegun, the ZGB 33 was itself a modified variant of the ZB vz. 26. Vaclav Holek was the primary designer. The name Bren is a portmanteau derived from Brno, the Czech city in Moravia where the gun was designed, and Enfield, the site of the Royal Small Arms Factory.
The earliest Bren gun weighed about 25 pounds and fed from a sharply curved magazine located atop the weapon to accommodate the rimmed .303 British round. The L4A4 Bren used by LCPL Amarjit’s men was the later version rechambered to accept the rimless 7.62x51mm cartridge. This variant can be identified at a glance by its straighter magazine. This 30-round box magazine was intentionally designed such that it would be interchangeable with that of the L1A1 SLR FAL rifles used by British forces at the time.
The Bren is indeed heavy in action, but its sedate 500-rpm rate of fire renders it thoroughly controllable. The Bren served in a similar role as the American BAR. Unlike the BAR, the Bren enjoyed a quick change barrel capability. The reliable tilting bolt, gas-operated action rendered splendid service in dirty environments. Additionally, while the gun was limited by its magazine feed system, the top-mounted design made mag changes fast. Each man in a British Infantry squad typically carried spare magazines for the Bren.
The Sterling submachine gun was an evolutionary improvement on the Sten that helped the British win World War 2. Developed in 1944, the Sterling was the brainchild of George William Patchett, the principal designer at the Sterling Armaments Company of Dagenham. Trial versions of the Sterling actually saw limited action in the closing months of World War 2, specifically with British Commando forces and at Arnhem with the British 1st Parachute Division during Operation Market Garden.
The Sterling generally favored the Sten that inspired it but represented an improvement across the board. The pistol grip was set at the rough center of balance of the gun, and the weapon fed from a superb side-mounted 34-round curved magazine. The Sterling was designed from the outset to feed from either Sterling or Sten magazines.
The Sterling is built around a drawn steel tube milled out and perforated as needed. It is finished out in a peculiar bake-on crinkle finish. This finish seems strangely similar to pickup truck bed liner. While early Sterlings featured a charging handle slot milled in line with the ejection port, production models were moved slightly higher.
One curious aspect of the Sterling design as it relates to American shooters is that the gun can be legally constructed from a registered transferable Sten tube. The BATF has allowed enterprising gunsmiths to adapt Sten tubes to accept demilled Sterling parts kits. The final product is referred to as a Stenling in the vernacular. As the Sterling is a markedly more pleasant and effective weapon than the Sten, this is a popular conversion.
The Sterling’s delightful balance and sedate 550-rpm rate of fire make it unusually controllable. The gun fires from the open bolt and is selective fire via a thumb-operated selector level oriented above the trigger. The collapsible stock on the Sterling is a bit complex but remains nonetheless rigid and effective.
The Sterling is one of the most controllable open-bolt subguns I have ever run. The telescoping recoil system of the German MP40 is perhaps incrementally smoother, but the Sterling still runs like a champ. The Sterling is also unusually compact and handy. This makes it the ideal weapon for combat leaders and second-line support troops who might need their hands free for other tasks.
The Rest of the Story
LCPL Amarjit stood his ground on that tiny jungle trail, dumping magazine after magazine of full auto 9mm fire into the Indonesian troops. His furious close-range assault broke the back of the ambush and bought enough time for the rest of the company to maneuver in place and displace the enemy. The Indonesians subsequently retreated into the jungle. Amarjit’s Gurkhas gathered up their casualties and returned to their base camp.
LCPL Amarjit was unhurt during the chaotic exchange. However, his uniform and equipment had been pierced by Indonesian bullets in three different places. The combination of LCPL Amarjit’s unswerving bravery in the face of the withering enemy attack and the heavy volume of automatic fire from his Sterling submachine gun broke the Indonesian ambush and prevented further casualties to his Gurkha unit.
LCPL Amarjit Pun earned the Military Medal for his actions on that jungle trail back in 1964. The Military Medal was established in 1918 and was used to recognize acts of valor among other ranks such as NCOs and Warrant Officers. Recipients were granted a modest stipend and entitled to include the post-nominal letters “MM” after their names in official correspondence. Though the award was discontinued in 1993 in favor of the Military Cross which is granted to all ranks, the Military Medal still recognizes exceptional bravery in combat.
Wars are fought for territory, greed, and all manner of lofty nationalistic motivations. However, men invariably fight for their buddies. When the incoming fire seemed overwhelming and his comrades were falling LCPL Amarjit Pun unlimbered his Sterling submachine gun and won the day. Sometimes big things do indeed come in small packages.
Back when War was Glorious, Colorful and Brutal. Now War is just Brutal. Grumpy
When Nazi Germany invaded Poland on Sept. 1, 1939, they found the Polish military to be inferior in numbers, but not completely short-changed in effective equipment or fighting spirit. Several Polish weapons systems were quite effective, as the invading Nazi and Soviet troops were soon to find out. Some of the Polish infantry weapons may appear quite familiar to American small arms enthusiasts.
The Ckm wz. 30 Heavy Machine Gun
From 1919 until well into the 1920s, Poland’s military used a large amount of older, heavy machine guns that they either inherited, purchased from their allies, or captured in some numbers from their enemies (in this case Imperial Germany, the Austro-Hungarian Empire, and shortly after World War I the Soviet Union). The mix of French M1914 Hotchkiss guns (8 mm French), Russian Maxim M1910 guns (7.62×54 mm R), German MG08 (7.92×57 mm) and Austrian Schwarzlose M.7 (in a wide range of calibers) proved to be a logistical nightmare that the Poles sought to redress.
The business end of the Polish wz. 30 heavy machine gun.
After a series of tests and competitions that concluded during 1928, the Poles were thoroughly sold on the capabilities of the Browning M1917 machine gun, rechambered to 7.92×57 mm. Polish officials had settled on the Colt-manufactured M1928, a commercially manufactured export version of the famous Browning machine gun, and opted to purchase a license to manufacture. The price for the license proved to be prohibitive ($450,000) and Colt also demanded to make the first 3,000 examples in their own factory. The Poles were forced to find alternatives, when a thunderbolt of good luck struck in Warsaw—Colt had never secured a patent of their machine gun in Poland. After discovering the opportunity, the Polish armaments ministry began to manufacture the weapons in Warsaw. By 1931, the first Ckm wz. 30 machine guns were issued to Polish troops.
Polish Home Army resistance fighters prepare a wz. 30 machine gun for action during the Warsaw Uprising in the late summer of 1944.
The Polish variant is recognizable by its longer barrel (28” compared to 24” on the American original) and by a significantly longer flash suppressor. Several tripod mounts were developed for the Ckm wz. 30, all capable of transitioning to the anti-aircraft role with a mast extension (and special AA sights). A shoulder-stock extension was also available. The Ckm wz. 30’s cyclic rate (600 rounds per minute) was equivalent to the US M1917A1. All told, almost 9,000 were made for Polish forces by the time of the German invasion.
Wz. 30 machine guns reviewed by Polish Marshal E. Rydz-Śmigły. (Courtesy Polish National Archives)
The Polski-Brownings were used both before and after Poland fell in September 1939. About 1,700 Ckm wz. 30s were made for Republican Spain and were in action during the Spanish Civil War. The Germans captured many Ckm wz. 30s and used them as the “7.9 mm sMG 30(p)” in second-line and fortress units. The Polish resistance hid a few of the Ckm wz. 30s during the German occupation, and these emerged during the Warsaw Uprising by the Polish Home Army during August of 1944.
After the end of the Battle of Westerplatte, German troops review captured Polish equipment, including the wz. 30 heavy machine gun. Note the special AA sight in the hand of the German soldier in the center.
Wz. 30 set up for AA use aboard a Polish Sokół 1000 motorcycle combination. (Courtesy Polish National Archives)
The Browning wz. 1928 Automatic Rifle
As Poland developed its small army during the 1920s, they paid careful attention to the latest trends in small arms design. The Poles became interested in the new concept of a “squad automatic” and turned their attention to new concepts from western Europe. They ultimately settled on what is now considered a classic American design. After an extensive search and a 1925 arms competition, the Poles chose the Browning Automatic Rifle—in this case a Fabrique Nationale variant made in Belgium. Ultimately this became the “7,92 mm rkm Browning wz. 1928”, chambered in 7.92×57 mm Mauser and first commissioned in 1927.
The Polish BAR: Polish troops with a wz. 1928 automatic rifle (7.92×57 mm). (Courtesy Steve Zaloga)
The first 10,000 examples of the wz. 1928 were made in Belgium at FN. Subsequently, Poland also bought a license to build the Browning automatic in their own country (production in Poland began in 1930). The new wz. 1928 featured a few modifications compared to the US M1918 BAR: a longer barrel fitted with cooling fins, a folding bipod and simplified sights. Some wz.1928s were also equipped with a carrying handle and a “fish-tail” buttstock. About 14,000 were delivered to Polish infantry and cavalry units before the invasion of September 1939.
The wz. 28 in action: Note the enlarged forward grip and the bipod.
By all accounts, the Polish wz. 1928 was a well-made and highly effective weapon, offering all the benefits of the widely celebrated BAR. The wz. 28’s greatest drawback was its lack of extended-fire capability, limited by its use of 20-round magazines. The Poles had planned on producing an extensive number of spare barrels, but the program was interrupted by the invasion. The Germans captured a large amount of wz. 28s, and happily used them in their service throughout the war as the “lMG 28 (p)”.
After Poland fell, Germany acquired a windfall of captured small arms. Here a wz. 28 sits atop a pile of Polish Mauser rifles.
The 7.92 mm Kb. Ppanc. wz. 35 Anti-Tank Rifle
While Germany prepared for the blitzkrieg, the Poles were doing what they could to defend themselves against an attack they felt was inevitably going to come. Poland could afford few armored vehicles, but they did invest in some effective anti-tank weapons. One of the weapons they developed in secrecy was a high-velocity anti-tank rifle: the 7.92 mm Kb. Ppanc. wz. 35. Patterned after the standard Mauser rifle, the wz. 35 featured an exceptionally long barrel (47 inches, creating a rifle that was 69 inches long overall). A special harness was produced to allow the anti-tank rifleman to carry it on his back.
The unique Polish wz. 35 anti-tank rifle. Chambered for the 7.92×107 mm DS round, the wz. 35’s muzzle brake was particularly effective, reducing the recoil to little more than that of a standard Mauser rifle. (Courtesy SA-Kuva)
A great deal of effort was put into creating the wz. 35’s ammunition: the 225-gr. 7.92×107 mm DS round. The small 8 mm round relied more on kinetic energy than it did traditional armor penetration. Instead of punching a tiny hole through the armor of an enemy vehicle, the DS round transferred incredible kinetic energy to the armor plate, which normally resulted in “spalling” on the inside of the armor. The impact of the DS round on the armor would break off about a 20 mm plug from the interior surface of the vehicle, sending a molten-hot metal scab ricocheting at killing speed inside the enemy tank. The intention was to kill or wound the crew and set fire to fuel or ammunition. Ultimately the wz. 35’s ammunition was effective out to 300 meters on lightly armored vehicles and was capable of penetrating 33 mm of armor plate at 100 meters.
After Poland fell, the Germans sold some of their captured wz. 35 AT rifles to Finland. This example is seen during training exercises with Finnish troops in the summer of 1942. (Courtesy SA-Kuva)
Initial muzzle velocity was 4,180 f.p.s. Unfortunately, the barrels wore out quickly, often after just 200 rounds. Three spare barrels were issued with each wz. 35 to help with this problem. The Polish design team conquered the powerful recoil of their anti-tank rifle with a highly effective muzzle brake (said to have bled off 65 percent of the additional recoil energy). With the muzzle brake in place, anti-tank riflemen reported that the felt recoil of the wz. 35 was little more than the standard Mauser rifle.
Many of the German tanks and armored cars that were deployed during 1939 were light vehicles with very thin armor. Consequently, the Panzer I (two-man crew) and Panzer II (three-man crew) were vulnerable from the front to fire from the wz. 35. Larger German tanks, like the Panzer III and Panzer IV carried frontal armor that was able to handle hits from the wz. 35 except at very short range. One of the drawbacks of such a small caliber anti-tank weapon quickly manifested itself, as while the wz. 35 proved capable of killing or incapacitating the crews of the German light tanks and armored cars, the DS rounds generally did not destroy the vehicles themselves. A curious by-product of this phenomenon were the so-called “ghost tanks” that the Germans recovered from the battlefield; vehicles that had been temporarily stopped with dead crews, but were quickly re-manned and put back into service.
Germany retained a number of the captured Polish AT rifles, using some of them during the invasion of France in 1940. This example is examined by U.S. troops in Germany during the spring of 1945.
About 6,000 of the new AT rifles were delivered by the beginning of the war, but since they were developed in secret, most Polish troops had no experience in firing them, nor did they have any tactical guide to use them. The wz. 35 is often known as the “UR,” short for Uruguay, which was a cover name/destination the Poles applied to their AT rifles. They certainly caught the attention of Poland’s enemies—the Germans captured many and put them to work in their service during the subsequent invasion of France as the “7.92 mm Panzerbuchse 35 (p)”. Soviet agents scoured eastern Poland for the “secret rifles,” and captured examples of the wz.35 were used as inspiration for their later PTRD and PTRS anti-tank rifle designs.
Additional Reading:
Uprising! Poland’s Fight for Freedom in Warsaw 1944
An image captured from the B29 chase plane Necessary Evil
of the actual detonation of the first atomic bomb over Hiroshima.
The law of conservation of mass states that in any closed system the ultimate mass of a system must remain constant over time. The law of conservation of energy posits that the total energy of an isolated system also must remain constant. Mass and energy are therefore said to be conserved over time. Both can change forms, but mass and energy can be neither created nor destroyed. They simply change from one state to another.
Take a match as an example. You strike a match and allow it to burn. What’s left is smaller and different from the original match. However, that excess mass didn’t just disappear. It changed forms. As the compounds in the wood degraded they gave off energy and some portion of it turned into a series of gases. That original stuff is not gone. It’s just different.
In the world of physics, this isn’t only not a good idea. It’s the law. However, there is one glaring exception. Albert Einstein codified the details within his extraordinary equation E=MC2.
Nuclear Fission
In the case of nuclear fission, a small amount of matter actually transforms directly into energy. Unlike our burning match example, some mass of fissile material consumed in a nuclear reaction no longer exists in our universe. This matter is physically transformed into energy. The ratio is driven by that equation where E is energy, M is rest mass or invariant mass, and C if the speed of light. As the speed of light is a big number and you are squaring it, the resulting amount of energy you get for a small amount of transformed matter can be truly astronomical.
As weird as all this seems, we can see the practical results clearly enough. It is this reaction that propels American aircraft carriers and nuclear submarines. It also drives nuclear power plants.
Despite their simply breathtaking size, aboard a nuclear-powered ship, a small amount of fissile material powers everything from propulsion and catapults to hot water and laundry. Producing 200,000 horsepower non-stop to power the USS Gerald Ford for a week requires less than nine pounds of enriched uranium fuel. These massive ships are expected to run for a quarter century without refueling. The tiny amount of fuel that is actually turned into energy in a nuclear reaction is even smaller yet. Now, hold that thought.
Little Boy was the first nuclear weapon fired in anger.
The Little Boy Test
The atomic bomb unleashed on Hiroshima, Japan, on August 6, 1945, was called Little Boy. This was a relatively simple gun-based device that burned enriched Uranium-235. The term enriched stems from the fact that only about one part in 140 of naturally-occurring uranium is the particular desirable U-235 isotope.
Building the bomb was fairly easy. Harvesting that specific uranium isotope was hard. That’s what the Iranians have been hell-bent on doing for the past decade.
Little Boy was little more than a stubby gun. An enriched uranium target sat at one end and a smaller uranium projectile resided at the other. At the point of detonation a chemical explosive fired the projectile down the internal barrel into the target and achieved critical mass for a spontaneous detonation.
The plutonium-based bomb, Fat Man, which dropped on Nagasaki three days later, was a more complicated implosion design. It was this mechanism that was detonated during the Trinity test in New Mexico. The first operational test of the Little Boy bomb was the Hiroshima attack. Most of the uranium used in Little Boy came from the Shinkolobwe mine in the Belgian Congo.
A Single Paperclip
Once ready to go Little Boy sported an all-up weight of 9,700 pounds. Of that mass was 141 pounds of enriched uranium. The average level of enrichment was around 80%. Upon detonation around two pounds of uranium underwent nuclear fission. Of the bit that burned, only 0.7 grams or around 0.025 ounce was actually transformed into energy. This is roughly the same mass as a dollar bill or a paperclip.
The bomb was deployed from the B29 Superfortress Enola Gay at 0815 in the morning. It fell for 44.4 seconds before its dual redundant time and barometric triggers fired the ignition charges. The weapon detonated 1,968 feet above ground, and the resulting explosion released 63 Terajoules’ worth of energy — the equivalent to 15,000 tons or 30 million pounds of TNT (Trinitrotoluene) high explosive.
The fireball was 1,200 feet in diameter with a surface temperature of 10,830 degrees Fahrenheit, roughly comparable to the surface of the sun. Every man-made structure within a mile of ground zero was instantly pulverized. The resulting firestorm was roughly two miles in diameter. Survivors reported a strong smell of ozone, as though they had been near a powerful electrical arc. This unprecedented explosion killed 66,000 people and injured another 69,000, all for the cost a single paperclip’s worth of enriched uranium.