Oliphant had come to Washington in late August to find out why there had been no reaction to the M.A.U.D. report and was “amazed and distressed” to discover the reason. He flew to California to brief Lawrence, the only person Oliphant trusted to salvage the situation.95
On Sunday, September 21, 1941, Lawrence drove Oliphant up the twisting dirt road of what was already called “Cyclotron Hill” for the obligatory tour. Cooksey took a picture of the two men standing next to the magnet frame for the 184-inch—which sat, like the magnet itself, out in the open, surrounded by a green sward of grass and weeds. Returning to Lawrence’s office, the two were joined by Oppenheimer. As Oliphant proceeded to tell the Americans about the M.A.U.D. report, he realized, from Oppenheimer’s expression, that it was the first Oppie had heard of plans to build an atomic bomb.96
Oliphant’s visit made Lawrence more confident than ever that a fission bomb could be made to work. Ernest set out with his characteristic energy to spread the word and was soon dismayed at the response. At Lawrence’s urging, Bush and Conant agreed to see Oliphant, but were unwilling at that meeting even to acknowledge the existence of the M.A.U.D. report, since it had not yet been officially transmitted to the U.S. government. (“Oliphant’s behavior does not help the cause of secrecy!” Conant wrote in a peeved note to Bush afterward.)97
Lawrence had also contacted Arthur Compton and relayed Oliphant’s news, coloring it with his own opinion that such a weapon “might well determine the outcome of the war.”98 Compton told Lawrence that he should make his case to Conant personally. The Harvard president and Lawrence were scheduled to be Compton’s guests the following week, at a celebration honoring the fiftieth anniversary of the founding of the University of Chicago.
On a chill evening in late September, following a lecture by Ernest at Chicago’s Museum of Science and Industry on the medical uses of the cyclotron, Lawrence and Conant stood huddled before Compton’s fireplace with their host.99 Over coffee, Lawrence gave a brief account of the recent research in Britain, summarized the work he was planning to undertake at Berkeley, and spoke with some passion—he was “very vigorous in his expression of dissatisfaction,” Compton recalled—of Washington’s complacency in the face of mounting evidence of German interest in an atomic bomb.100 Compton, content to remain in the background, chimed in occasionally to echo Lawrence’s message.
Lawrence had gone to Chicago merely intending to play the role of cheerleader for the bomb project.101 Just three days earlier, he had written to Cottrell’s Research Corporation with assurances that the Rad Lab intended to continue its basic research into high-energy physics, despite the war.102 Construction of the giant cyclotron had resumed earlier that month, after Bush finally granted the 184-inch a defense priority. Lawrence hoped to carry out the first trials of the machine sometime in 1943, a full year ahead of schedule.103
Moreover, the concrete foundation for a major addition to the Crocker lab had just been poured the previous May. Ground-breaking for another new edifice, the Donner Laboratory, where John would carry out biomedical experiments, followed in June. He was overseeing “at least a three-ring circus,” Ernest recently wrote a friend.104
To Lawrence’s surprise, it was Conant who seized the initiative in the meeting at Compton’s house, bringing Ernest up short with what amounted to an ultimatum.105 Claiming that he was considering putting the uranium project “in wraps,” Conant asked Lawrence if he were willing to devote the next several years of his life to building the bomb that he saw as so important. Caught unawares by Conant’s question, Ernest hesitated for a moment, openmouthed, before responding. “If you tell me this is my job, I’ll do it,” he said finally.106
Lawrence and Conant asked Compton to convey the new, now-collective sense of urgency to Vice President Henry Wallace, an amateur expert in plant genetics and thus the closest thing to a scientist in Roosevelt’s high circle.107 Compton left by train the following day on a tour d’horizon that ultimately took him not only to Washington but also to see Fermi and Urey at Columbia and Wigner at Princeton. All affirmed Lawrence’s view that a bomb could be made and would work.108
But, for Bush, still a nagging concern was Lawrence’s cavalier attitude toward security in the project. On more than one occasion, the head of OSRD had told Conant that Ernest could not be trusted to keep a secret. For the past year, Lawrence had been complaining to various scientists about Briggs, when even the existence of the Uranium Committee was still a secret. More recently, as they gathered in Compton’s living room, Conant had reprimanded Ernest for telling Oppenheimer about the bomb without authorization.109
On October 9, 1941, Roosevelt authorized Bush to speed up the preparatory work in any way possible. The president also decided that he would look to a small group of senior advisers—the so-called Top Policy Group—to make recommendations on whether to proceed with building the weapon and subsequent steps he should take.110 Later that day, Bush asked Compton’s review panel to take a third and final look at how the project might be organized.111
On his own, Bush put together a short list of scientists to advise OSRD on the bomb. Bush sent the list to the National Academy’s Frank Jewett, along with a self-justifying apologia for earlier delays: “Much of the difficulty in the past has been due to the fact that Ernest Lawrence in particular had strong ideas in regard to policy, and talked about them generally.”112 Bush had already decided who he did not want to head the group. Since the project “would have to be handled under the strictest sort of secrecy,” he wrote Jewett, “I hesitate at the name of Ernest Lawrence.”113
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Alarmed by Lawrence’s volubility,
