Alan Rimmer - Between Heaven and Hell

The small military convoy drove cautiously through thevillage of Wansford as it threaded its way to Bomber Commands Armament Schoolat RAF Wittering in Cambridgeshire. It was snowing heavily and visibility wasdown to 50 yards. As the vehicles exited the village they faced a steep climbup Wansford Hill. Without warning a large Foden truck, its contents shieldedby a black tarpaulin, began to fishtail as the wheels lost traction in thetightly-packed snow. The driver struggled to control the heavy vehicle but itslithered remorselessly to the side of the road mounted the kerb and toppledover into a ditch. The driver leapt from the cab and held his breath as hestared down at the stricken truck; the tarpaulin had been dislodged during thecrash revealing a large packing case. Through the slats the man could make outthe sinister outline of an enormous bomb.

Sir William Penney, Britains master bomb-maker, was flown off theisland at dawn, which was just as well because, as feared, something went badlywrong. The huge bomb, codename Grapple Y, was much bigger than expected. Theblast wave scattered troops like leaves before the wind, and the fantastic heatof the explosion made the blood bubble beneath their skin, even at a distanceof 30 miles. It also created a hellish thunderstorm that produced a curtain ofsizzling radioactive rain. Thousands of men got caught in the downpour. Withinhours many experienced nausea and vomiting; some coughed blood up; others wereblinded and their skin erupted in blisters.

The scientists and military planners actedquickly to suppress the news. This was after all the Cold War, and with nuclearArmageddon just a heartbeat away, secrecy was paramount. Official observersspecially flown in to view the event were assured there was no fallout, beforebeing hastily removed from the island back to the safety of their base in Honolulu.Politicians in London announced the test was a success and that the resultswere gratifying to the scientists. The public was told in a routine statementthat it was a clean bomb and that all the troops were safe.

No-one worried overmuch about the troops. Noneas far as is known was killed instantly by the blast, and their suddenafflictions were easily explained away as coral poisoning. The real effectsof the bomb in disease and death would not become apparent for many years, andthe authorities knew it would be virtually impossible to make a connection.

Penney, the Father of theBritish H-bomb observed the crowning achievement of his career from the cockpitof a Dakota aircraft circling the island. He had a grandstand view of theexplosion, the huge mushroom cloud that accompanied it, and the toweringthunderclouds that formed in its wake. By the time the deadly rain came, hewas on his way to safety to an island 400 miles to the south.

He would never make a bigger orbetter bomb. Grapple Y was a thousand times the size of the Hiroshima bomb andits awesome power ensured Britains place at the top table of internationalpolitics alongside America and the Soviet Union. Penney was showered with honours,and after a distinguished academic career, retired to a chocolate-box cottagenestling in the heart of the Oxfordshire countryside. Grapple Y, his legacy,was allowed to disappear into the sealed archives of government, consigned tojust a minor footnote in history.

Penney, a mathematical genius,was marked down as a high-flyer in World War II when his unique talents tookhim from backroom boffin at the Ministry of Supply, to America where he becameone of the chief architects of the atomic bomb. He was a reluctant recruit tothis apocalyptic venture and like all the other scientists had deep misgivingsabout the possible consequences.

But a capricious twist of fate guidedone of Hitlers new terror weapons to Penneys modest home in Croydon, SouthLondon with disastrous results. Any doubts that he may have had disappearedalong with the tragedy that befell his beloved wife.