WB-29, North Pacific Ocean

September 3, 1949

A WB-29 cut through the midday sky across the Pacific from Misawa Air Force Base in Japan, crossing outside of Soviet airspace off the coast of Siberia, with the destination of Eilson Air Force Base in Alaska. The WB-29 was a B-29 Superfortress modified with equipment to monitor the weather-- among other things. At the appointed hour the captain gave the order, and the equipment in the waist of the plane took its sample. The process took minutes, and once it was done they continued on their way, landing several hours later in the barren Alaska Territory, just outside of Fairbanks.

This WB-29 belonged to the 557th Weather Wing, but had been coopted by a top-secret Air Force agency: the Air Force Office of Atomic Energy (AFOAT/1). Upon arriving at Eilson, the WB-29 had scarcely cut its engines when a crew from AFOAT/1 arrived to take possession of the filters pulled from the atmospheric monitoring system and disappeared with them into a truck, which carried them all to a restricted building under twenty four-hour guard by armed members of the Air Police.

Within this building was a laboratory equipped with a series of radiation-detecting tools. The Air Force scientists hefted the 20-pound alpha particle detector off the tabletop and directed the air-probe at the filters-- and to their shock, the counter issued a couple ticks. The scientists exchanged glances, and checked the rest of the filters. They had, somehow, caught something radioactive.

September 21, 1949

In his office, Admiral Roscoe Hillenkoetter, Director of Central Intelligence, read the latest reports. Several more WB-29s had been sent up out of Eilson in the preceding two weeks, and nearly all of them had detected the same radioactive materials. The Central Intelligence Agency had reached consensus, at last: the Soviet Union had almost certainly tested an atomic bomb.

Hillenkoetter’s polished shoes strolled purposefully up the halls of the Pentagon, joined by a collection of his staff. He knew his career was about wrapped up at CIA-- being caught flat-footed in Czechoslovakia was bad, but being caught flat-footed on the Soviet nuclear program was worse. The Agency had quoted to President Truman that 1953 as the earliest the Soviets could build an atom bomb, but here they evidently were in 1949.

Two government cars pulled up in Lafayette Square, stopping outside the temporary Presidential residence at the Blair House. White House Police officers verified the DCI’s credentials, and he and his staff were allowed inside.

President Dewey had only days before returned to Washington after a two-week tour of Europe, and had characteristically leapt headlong into the work that had been awaiting him. Attorney General Brownell departed as Hillenkoetter waited in the hall-- the President had been hosting a forum on who should replace the late Associate Justice of the Supreme Court, Wiley Blount Rutledge.

As the President shuffled the papers left behind after the Justice Department meeting into their respective places, his secretary admitted Admiral Hillenkoetter, who stopped inside the office and saluted. “Mr. President.”

“Admiral, welcome,” the President replied, standing and returning the Admiral’s salute. “My apologies for the state of the office. What can I do for you?”

Hillenkoetter approached and placed his briefcase on a chair. As he worked at the locks, he spoke. “Mr. President, my Agency has received word on the last WB-29 flight out of Eilson. There can no longer be any question, as far as CIA is concerned: the Soviet Union has tested an atomic bomb.”

The President’s reaction was muted. It had been two weeks of repeated reports about radioactive materials being detected in the atmosphere, he had grown certain himself that it was a bomb test, how else would plutonium land itself in the upper atmosphere above the Bering Sea? “I see. Central Intelligence is absolutely certain, then?”

At last, the briefcase opened. Hillenkoetter produced a nine-page report compiled by the Air Force. He stood by while Dewey read the report, and was quietly surprised when he finished as quickly as he did. The President reclined in his seat and appeared lost in thought. “Was there anything else, Admiral?”

“No, sir,” Hillenkoetter replied.

“Thank you,” Dewey replied, dismissing the DCI. He read through the report a second time, and picked up the telephone.

Inside of an hour, Secretary of State John Foster Dulles arrived at the Blair House as the sun began to bend back towards the horizon. Red-brown leaves blew about Lafayette Square idly, scratching at the pavement. A second car arrived, carrying Secretary of Defense James Forrestal.

The President held court with the Secretary of State and the Secretary of Defense. The meeting was relatively productive, with a couple of action items on the agenda.

Foremost, the President would release a statement to the press on the 23rd. Dulles, with Forrestal in agreement, argued that the psychological effect of the American government releasing such a statement could shock Stalin and the Politburo. Forrestal, with Dulles ambivalent, argued for the United States to conduct a test in response to match the Soviets bomb for bomb. On this point, President Dewey consented to Forrestal preparing a report on the earliest potential timeline for an American weapons test in the Pacific.

This mid-afternoon meeting done, the Secretary of State and Secretary of Defense departed, and the President summoned Press Secretary Harry J. O’Donnell and Chief of Staff James Hagerty. The President’s men then workshopped a brief statement to be released by the President’s Office to the Associated Press:

As of September the 23rd, 1949, agencies of the United States Government detected incontrovertible evidence of an atomic detonation within the borders of the Soviet Union.

Since the opening years of this decade the theories and the physics behind the atomic bomb have been well-known throughout the global scientific community. With the deployment of the atomic bomb against Japan, the feasibility of such a project was announced in the loudest conceivable fashion. Thus, we cannot be surprised that other nations have pursued it.

The power of the atom is terrible and its proliferation represents an existential threat to the people of the world if, now, the countries of the world can manufacture bombs that can destroy entire cities at once.

It is the opinion of this Administration that we must, as responsible members of the international community, consider anew the question of atomic regulation for the good of all mankind placed recently before the General Assembly of the United Nations.