CHAPTER 1
Nevada Test Site, Early 1953 Corporal Bill Baxter had made his choice. It was either fight the Chinese in the frozen Korean rice paddies, or participate in a patriotic test of atomic bombs in the Nevada desert. The choice was easy, and he was as excited as all the other volunteers in Charlie Company. To watch first-hand the miracle of the atom, the extraordinary power of the universe, the raw beauty of nature. The thought of it was almost overwhelming.
They had been at Camp Desert Rock for a week the days filled with lectures and films. A message was repeated almost hourly: Follow instructions and youll be safe. Safe from what, he thought. His government wouldnt expose him to any danger.
On the morning of the test, they were bussed about ten miles to the test site. The temperature was over one hundred degrees. Sweat ran in his eyes, soaked his green fatigues, and its odor filled the air. Each man was issued a radiation detection strip, and Bill proudly pinned his to his shirt pocket.
The troops were marched in formation to where the five-foot deep trenches had been dug. His company was assigned to Number 17, which looked like all the rest. He tightened the strap of his steel helmet, had one last cigarette, and waited.
A public address system boomed out to them. You can expect to see a bright flash even with your eyes closed. After the flash, count to ten, stand up, and open your eyes. Bill thought to himself that he might count to twenty.
In the crowded trench, they kneeled down; some covered their eyes with the crook of their arms. And they waited.
The flash came. Bill was astonished he could see the bones of his arm even though his eyes were closed and he faced the bottom of the trench. He counted slowly. He had passed ten when he heard his colleagues stir. He stood up and opened his eyes. In the same instant, he was hit with a hot wall of air that knocked him backwards and off his knees.
As he stumbled to his feet, another wave struck them, pelting him with sand and debris, flung at a speed of over a hundred miles an hour. His helmet was ripped away, his face and neck bled, and he was thrown to the bottom of the ditch. The forward wall of the trench collapsed, covering his legs and lower torso. He scrambled to pull himself free, but his vision was impaired as the fierce sandstorm blew over them.
Suddenly everything stopped. The air was still and he could feel the hot sun beat down on him. After barely a minute, the wind began again, reversed and blew toward Ground Zero with equal ferocity. More of the trench collapsed, trapping Bill and many of his comrades once more.
When the second wind passed and dissipated, it began raining sand, dirt, rocks and debris. There was no shelter, and the steel helmets were inadequate protection. As the rain ended, the sky cleared above them, in time to see the mushroom cloud. It was not at a distance, it was close enough for them to reach out and touch it. It wasnt something to watch. They were very much a part of it.
The PA system ordered all the troops out of the trenches. They were directed to march toward Ground Zero. Bill was incredulous. Yet orders were orders. Looking more like refugees than elite soldiers, the ragtag bunch of nearly 3,000 men, walked and stumbled across the desert waste. To Ground Zero.
When they returned to the buses, their radiation strips were collected. Bill asked his lieutenant what it meant for them to have changed from blue to a bright pink. The lieutenant frowned but didnt answer.
* * *
Sunset Cemetery, Berkeley 1965
The young boy watched as the army sergeant presented his mother with the American flag that had draped the coffin of Bill Baxter.
Bill died of cancer. The Veterans Administration, after a review of his records, ruled his death wasnt related to military service.
He left behind a loving wife, a son Jerry who was born with only one kidney, and a daughter born with Downs Syndrome. The VA concluded the birth defects were not the militarys fault either.
|