The First War of Physics (5 page)

²
  This is the reason why the periodic table does not go on forever. There is an essential limit on the size of an atomic nucleus imposed by the cumulative force of repulsion between its positively-charged constituents.

³
  An electron volt is the amount of energy a single negatively-charged electron gains when accelerated through a one-volt electric field. A 100W light bulb burns energy at the rate of about 600 billion billion electron volts per second. So, 200 million electron volts might sound like small beer, but remember this is energy released by a
single nucleus.
A kilogram of uranium contains billions upon billions of nuclei. In fact, if every nucleus in a kilogram of uranium released 200 million electron volts of energy, this would be equivalent to the energy released by about
22,000 tons
of TNT.

⁴
  To a certain extent, Frisch and Meitner’s discovery had been anticipated four years earlier by German chemist Ida Noddack. She had made the suggestion that far from creating transuranic elements, Fermi and his colleagues had actually split the uranium nucleus into several much smaller atomic fragments. At the time nobody took Noddack’s proposal seriously. Hahn himself dismissed the idea as absurd.

⁵
  The
Manifesto della Razza
had been published on 14 July 1938. It declared that the Italian population is of Aryan race and that Jews did not, therefore, belong. The first anti-Semitic laws were passed in September. Fermi and the children were Catholics, but Laura was Jewish.

⁶
  The Radiation Laboratory (or Rad Lab) had been established on the University of California campus at Berkeley by Lawrence in August 1931 specifically to study high-energy physics using the cyclotron.

⁷
  Strictly speaking, as all the action takes place in the uranium nucleus, this should be referred to as a ‘nuclear bomb’, just as we refer to a ‘nuclear reactor’. However, in this book I will happily stick with the commonly-accepted term ‘atomic bomb’, or A-bomb.

⁸
  In practice, physicists are concerned to measure something called the cross-section of the reaction, reported in units of square centimetres. The cross-section can be thought to represent the size of a hypothetical ‘window’ through which the reaction occurs. The larger the window, the more likely the reaction. The more likely the reaction, the faster it will occur. This simple picture gets a bit fuzzy, however, when we start to consider the wave nature of sub-atomic particles. So, to avoid complications, I will restrict discussion always to the
rate
(or speed) of the nuclear reaction.

⁹
  Hans von Halban was French, of Austrian-Jewish descent. Lew Kowarski was a naturalised Frenchman, of Russian-Polish descent.

¹⁰
 This report suggested that an average of 3.5 secondary neutrons is produced for each fission of a uranium nucleus. This figure was subsequently revised to 2.5.

¹¹
 Szilard filed a patent application based on the idea of a nuclear chain reaction in March 1934.

PART I

MOBILISATION

Chapter 1

THE URANVEREIN

September 1939–July 1940

W
erner Heisenberg loved his country. He was a patriot and, by his own standards, a ‘good’ German. Slightly built, blond, with a warm and welcoming smile, he might have seemed to some the very essence of Aryan manhood. As an impressionable young student in his late teens he had dreamt of a romanticised Third Reich with fellow members of the New German Pathfinders, a youth movement composed of upper-middle-class adolescent males. This was a Reich that was to be forged through a return to the spirit of community and noble leadership characteristic of the medieval crusader knights. It demanded a complete rejection of the corruption and hypocrisy of modern German society and extolled moral purity, honour and chivalry. The movement was firmly apolitical.

The older Heisenberg might have been able to persuade himself that a German victory in the war that had just been unleashed would be ultimately good for Europe, but it was painfully obvious that Hitler’s National Socialism was a gross corruption of his youthful ideals. He had managed to convince himself that Hitler’s regime would surely be transitory, giving way in the fullness of time to a more moderate and honourable form of government.

In the meantime, many of Heisenberg’s Jewish colleagues had fled the country, fearing for their lives and the lives of their families. Heisenberg himself preferred the inner exile of political reticence and conformity to the prospect of physical exile that had been afforded by the offers of academic positions he had received from abroad. In reaching this conclusion he was guided by Max Planck, the great grandfather of the quantum, now president of the Kaiser Wilhelm Society. Planck had counselled that emigration would be an empty gesture, and that Heisenberg could perform a higher service by offering support to the next generation of German physicists, needed by the country long after the Nazis had gone.

It was a morally ambiguous position. Physics and physicists had to be defended without offence to Nazi ideology, a task requiring painstakingly careful steps along a very fine line. It was a path that was to involve considerable personal danger and many shameful compromises.

Heisenberg himself was intimately aware of the dangers. He had been publicly denounced two years before for his association with the kind of physics that Nazi purists had branded ‘Jewish’, largely because of its departure from classical preconceptions and because of the prevalence of Jews in its discovery and development. The archetypal Jewish physicist was Einstein, and Einstein’s theories of relativity had come to epitomise Jewish physics.

At that time Heisenberg had been waiting for news about his appointment to a professorial chair at the University of Munich. This was a position vacated by Arnold Sommerfeld, Heisenberg’s former doctoral adviser, who had retired a few years previously. His appointment had seemed certain. Then came an article by Nazi physicist Johannes Stark in the SS newspaper,
Das Schwarze Korps
, on 15 July 1937. ‘How secure the “White Jews” feel in their position,’ Stark wrote, ‘is proven by the actions of the Professor for Theoretical Physics in Leipzig, Prof. Werner Heisenberg, who … declared Einstein’s theory of relativity to be “the obvious basis for further research …”’ Stark went on to accuse Heisenberg of anti-regime views, of being a ‘Jew lover’ and a ‘Jewish pawn’.

In itself the attack proved enough to deny Heisenberg the Munich chair. But he was now faced with a dark choice. Silence in the face of such
accusations would imply complicity, placing both himself and his new (and now pregnant) wife Elisabeth in a danger from which physical exile from Germany and German science would be the only escape. The Nazi dogs would hound him out of the country he loved. The alternative was to defend what he saw to be his ‘honour’, declare his patriotism and, by inference, his loyalty to the Nazi cause. ‘Now I actually see no other possibility but to ask for my dismissal [from his professorship in Leipzig] if the defence of my honour is refused here’, he wrote to Sommerfeld.

Towards the end of July, Heisenberg wrote directly to Heinrich Himmler, asking that Himmler either approve or disapprove of Stark’s attack on him. Approval of Stark’s denouncement by Himmler would lead Heisenberg to resign his position. Disapproval would lead him to demand that his honour be restored and that he be protected from any future such attacks.

This was not a letter that could be trusted to the usual channels, as these would work too slowly, if at all. Instead Heisenberg’s mother offered to pass the letter to Himmler via Himmler’s mother, whom she knew personally. They met in either late July or early August 1937, Heisenberg’s mother appealing to Mrs Himmler’s maternal instincts: ‘… we mothers know nothing about politics – neither your son’s nor mine,’ she confided, ‘But we know that we have to care for our boys. That is why I have come to you.’

Himmler probably received the letter later that August, and launched a preliminary internal investigation. This evolved into a more intensive SS investigation that lasted more than eight months. Heisenberg would have come to know real fear during this time. The Gestapo bugged his home and placed spies in his physics classes. An apparent preference for the company of young men and the apparently unseemly haste with which the 35-year-old Werner had married twenty-year-old Elisabeth Schumacher evolved into dark hints of homosexuality, a crime punishable by immediate imprisonment in a concentration camp. Such allegations were frequently used by the SS to extract confessions for lesser crimes.

What, one wonders, might have been said to Heisenberg during his interrogations in the notorious cellars of SS headquarters in Prinz Albert Strasse in Berlin, where a sign hanging on the wall reminded all exposed to such questioning to ‘Breathe calmly and deeply’? Heisenberg was not
physically harmed, but would return home from each interrogation exhausted and deeply disturbed.

Several of the SS investigation team had studied physics and Heisenberg had actually acted as doctoral thesis examiner in Leipzig for one of them. The investigation concluded positively, clearing Heisenberg of all the charges levelled by Stark. The application of some further, gentle diplomatic pressure on Himmler finally led to a compromise, and a conclusion of the affair, a year after Stark’s accusations had first appeared in print. Himmler expressed his disapproval of the attack, his belief that ‘… Heisenberg is decent, and we could not afford to lose or silence this man, who is relatively young and can educate a new generation’. He instructed Reinhard Heydrich, head of the Nazi intelligence service – the SD – that Heisenberg should be protected from any future attack.

Such protection was dearly bought. The compromise meant that relativity theory could continue to be taught to the next generation of German physicists, but it had to be divorced from Einstein’s name. Indeed, the argument went, the foundations of relativity theory had, surely, been laid by good Aryan physicists. The Jew Einstein had merely profiteered from their ideas. Compared to the evils visited upon Jews by the Nazis in the time since they had come to power, denial of the role they had played in the development of modern physics was, perhaps, a bargain that was not so difficult for Heisenberg to accept. But the Faustian nature of the bargain was now crystal clear.

Preventing catastrophe

Heisenberg’s American colleagues, and those European physicists who had found sanctuary in America, could not understand his decision to stay in Germany.

He visited America in the summer of 1939, probably judging this to be the last opportunity to do so for some time to come. He lectured in Chicago and at Purdue University in Indiana, before moving on to Ann Arbor to attend a summer school organised by Dutch physicist Samuel Goudsmit, then on the faculty of the University of Michigan.

It was in America that Fermi caught up with him, and together they discussed the prospect for a new kind of super-weapon based on nuclear chain reactions. Heisenberg shared the commonly-held view that this was a remote, long-term possibility. Fermi insisted that, should war break out, nuclear physicists of all nations would surely be expected to devote all their energies to building these new weapons. Heisenberg conceded the point but played down the potential for success: ‘I believe that the war will be over long before the first atom bomb is built’, he said.

In Ann Arbor Heisenberg faced a friendlier, though no less intense, interrogation. What was Heisenberg going to do? Why was he staying on in Nazi Germany? How could he continue to do physics under the auspices of such an evil regime? Why was he in such a hurry to get back? Goudsmit pursued him relentlessly. Laura Fermi remarked that anyone must be crazy to stay in Germany. Exasperated, Heisenberg responded in kind: ‘People must learn to prevent catastrophes,’ he argued, ‘not to run away from them.’

Before returning to Germany Heisenberg stopped over in New York, where once again he received the offer of an academic position at Columbia University, an offer that had first been made during his darkest hours in 1937. Once again he turned the offer down.

Perhaps Heisenberg had not received the kind of reception in America that he had anticipated. His insensitivity to the effect on his friends and colleagues of some of his more casual remarks – emphasising that he needed to return to his German army reserve unit for machine-gun practice, for example – would certainly not have helped. He boarded the SS
Europa
in early August. It was virtually empty. On the journey back to Germany he would have had plenty of time to ponder what the future held.

Warfare for physics

As each day had passed since the outbreak of war on 1 September 1939, Heisenberg had anticipated the arrival of his call-up papers, just as he had nervously, but eagerly, anticipated a call to arms with his reserve infantry brigade during the Sudeten crisis a year before, a crisis averted when
Czechoslovakia’s allies traded appeasement of Hitler’s aggressive expansionism for ‘peace in our time’. When Erich Bagge returned to Leipzig on 25 September and advised him that he was to report not to the infantry but to the next meeting of the Uranverein, he was both greatly relieved and excited. He had been presented with an opportunity to contribute to Germany’s war effort by doing what he loved most: research.