INTERPERSONAL MEMO - NOT FOR REVIEW
From:
J. Robert Oppenheimer
To:
Katherine Oppenheimer
Date:
July 14, 1945
Office of Issue: Scientific Director -
Project "Y"
NOT FOR CIRCULATION OUTSIDE LOS ALAMOS SPECIAL PROJECT AREA
TOP SECRET
Dearest Kitty,
Tonight is the
night. The last day before we go out and see if everything we have been working toward will actually
work. I am filled with a kind of
dread, as though I am pulling the
stopper out of magic bottle to see if the
genie will come out. Whatever happens tomorrow, know that
I love you. I'm sorry darling. I don't mean to frighten
you. I'm just writing this in case all of us eggheads are way
off base.
Albert and I have had our reservations from the
beginning, but that’s neither here nor there. It is
for the Greater Good.
I have had more trouble sleeping through the night, like when that time I took
ill at the ranch, but much more pronounced. The doctors
fret and
pick, but they are
standard military issue: patch you up and hand you a rifle. It's not that I am not tired, as I have trouble prying my eyes
open most mornings. I just keep having the same
dream, over and over again. It is like a
nightmare and a
memory twisted together, half real and half remembered. I have trouble explaining these things. The arts were never my
strong suit. It just seems so
real! I could swear that it did happen, but I can't remember when. It is very strange for me. I much prefer the
quantifiable. Perhaps I just need to get it off my chest.
It all seems to start just before the day we drove from
Berkeley with everything in the car to
Santa Fe, when we moved into the Big House. Just after
Ernie Lawerence came to me with his
secret project that would stop the war. In the dream, I am sitting at my desk with
Albert, and he is reviewing the letter he sent to
President Roosevelt telling him about a kind of
super weapon, when I get an urge to
leave. Just to get out of the office. I find this compulsion overpowering and
bizarre, as I often enjoyed talking to Albert, even if his
social skills were lacking. I excuse myself and leave, heading for a small
cafe just off
campus. I had been there once before, to a student meeting a
friend of mine had organized. I am drawn to return for some reason. When I arrive, I feel as though I have been expected, as the man at the
counter tips his head in greeting and offers me a cup of
coffee, two sugars and no cream, just the way I take it. I thank him in a daze and head for the booth beside the washrooms, at the back of the dining room. It seems very
dark for the time of day, and no one else is in the place. I wait for a
visitor.
Haakon Chevalier once said that this particular cafe reminded him of his smoky
Parisian haunts, but I'll be darned if I can remember the name of the place. I sit and wait for a man who is coming to tell me something, something
important, that will help me
decide if I am going to work on the project. He holds the final piece of information that will
tip the scale. I don't know
how I know this, or who the man is, but I know it must be true. Something feels
right about it. That, or it is a very
elaborate lie. Another cup of coffee arrives at the table before I ask for it, and the counterman leaves a glass of what looks like
whiskey on the other side of the table. I find this
odd for two reasons: Nobody is sitting there and it is around 10 o'clock in the morning. Before I can ask about it, the door chimes
jangle discordantly. He has arrived.
At a glance, I can tell I have never seen this man before, but he seems very
familiar. It was like seeing a movie star at the
green grocer, out of place but exciting. The man was rather unremarkable, except for the deep
burgundy color of his suit. I had never seen that particular color before, and I haven't seen it since. It was a deep deep red, almost like a fresh
steak. At first it looked odd, but the light it gave his face was strangely
hypnotic. He moved like a
king cobra, making a slow path toward my seat. His face resolved out of the shade of his
fedora a few steps from the table. Where had I
seen him before?
With a
finesse that would make a car salesman
proud, he seated himself, shook my hand vigorously and poured praise after praise in my
ear. I found myself grinning despite my apprehension and confusion, feeling as though I had met an
old friend. His face was sorely
sun burnt, and it looked uncomfortably red against his black
goatee. My new acquaintance leaned back,
winked, and swallowed the stiff drink with toothy
smile. I thought I saw a curl of
smoke come out his nose just before he returned to the conversation. I
swear I have seen him before Kitty, but I can't remember where. Maybe from the
University of Göttingen? Remind me to have a look at my
class picture later.
Lou. He called himself Lou. He said it like it was
shorthand for something else. He finally got down to business, and the icy
glare of his very green eyes got deadly
serious.
"Are you going to do it?" he asked,
point blank. I reeled, worried about spilling the beans to a potential
Nazi spy. He jumped on my hesitation. "Don't worry Julius", he said, "I know all about the project". "In fact, I think it's the greatest idea I have ever heard." "It's just
keen" he said with a savage
grin. "Those Nazi
sons of bitches and them slant-eyed
Nips would
sell their souls for this kind of opportunity, but I'm giving it all to you Julius." I felt a little
sick. He must have been from the
OSS or the
War Department. "
The road to Hell is paved with good intentions Bobby. Don't let this one pass you by." he added with a chuckle. He knew about my doubts and fears even before I put a
voice to them.
He leaned in close and got very
serious looking. I leaned back,
hesitant, when his hand lashed out faster than I could see, gripped me by the tie and pulled me close.
Eye to eye we faced one another across the table. "Think of it Bobby. You can end the war with one little
gadget. The entire bloody war. Don't they deserve it? Shouldn't they pay for what they have done to
America? You owe them
revenge. Put them in their place! No one would mess with us if we had that marvelous
bomb." With this said, he relaxed and let go of me. He smiled and straightened my collar absentmindedly.
"Think about it Bobby." He got up and turned to leave, looking back with his sneering
grin. "I mean, what could go wrong?" he asked. The doorbells jangled as he left, and I sat for a long time thinking over the
proposal. It was the next day I signed on. He was
right, goddamn it. If anyone should have that
power, it should be
us.
I just started raining outside, and I think we may have to push back the test till
tomorrow. The fellows are taking bets as to what will happen.
Gen. Groves is in his office talking to the
governor. The poor fellow has just been informed that an evacuation of the
state may be ordered by the
Army. Can you imagine? I think
Enrico got him sweating with his
betting pool. I put some money on a big
fizzle, but the gadget looks ready. Please be careful, Kitty. If they ask you to
go, don't wait for me.
Whatever the circumstances, remember that
I love you.
Julius.