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MEMOIR
by Robert B. Gordon,
Sc.D.
August 1, 2003
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Introduction America is the greatest nation ever built by the brains and brawn of its own people and using its own resources. Examples of America’s great capability often come in wartime as the nation’s efforts are focused on survival. The huge national effort to develop the atomic bomb is a great example. I did not work on the Manhattan Project that developed the atomic bomb, but was very well aware that many of my personal friends were involved. Where would we be today if Germany or Japan had won the nuclear race and dropped an A Bomb on New York or San Francisco? Think about that question for a starter. Less than a decade after the war, from 1949 to 1957, I had a major role in another great program to develop and build the first nuclear power plants for War and Peace. My contribution to this program led directly to an American nuclear navy and a world wide program of nuclear electric power plants. I hope that the following account of that program will increase your pride in the unique strength of our great nation, the ability of our people to conceive and complete great projects for the benefit of all mankind. Why do people of every other nation on earth try to emigrate to our great nation? Think about that fact for a moment. One of the principle reasons is that in America our people are free to use their God-given ability to reach their personal dreams. It is always easier to dwell on our problems rather than on our successes. One of the great weaknesses in our schools is their failure to highlight the unique capabilities of our great nation. In the Memoir that follows, I give major credit to the leadership of Admiral Hyman G. Rickover, a Jew who reportedly suffered from prejudice during his years at Annapolis. Trained in nuclear physics during the Manhattan Atomic Bomb Project, he dreamed a great dream, as have other Americans, and personally led a huge national effort to bring it to a successful conclusion. He got full Congressional support for the program, fought the opposition of the Navy leaders and gave America a large and capable nuclear navy. THE FROSTING ON THE CAKE The Memoir that follows was written in the Spring of 2000. It was sent to the Navy History Division in Washington DC for transmission to various Navy archives, including the Nautilus Museum in Groton, Connecticut. During this process, I discovered that the Nautilus Alumni Association was having their Biennial Reunion in September 2000 on Shelter Island, San Diego—one of my favorite vacation spots. I sent a copy of my Memoir to the retired officer in charge of the reunion, with the result that my wife and I were invited to attend as guests of the 3-day affair. We had a great time meeting again some of the original officers and crew as well as more recent members. As a point of interest, the officers and crew members were indistinguishable in the large group of attendees - the result of their close working quarters in the submarine. At the final dinner I received a rising vote of appreciation from the group as a fitting close to this great event. I would be pleased to hear from any former submariners, either nuclear or conventional. Robert
B. Gordon, ScD Foreword
INTRODUCTION In the Fall of 1949, I was working for Westinghouse Electric in Pittsburgh as Manager of the Special Alloy Development Department involved in creating new alloys for use in Westinghouse civilian and defense products. Ten years earlier, I had joined this company as Research Engineer after receiving a Doctorate in Physical Metallurgy from M.I.T. In 1949, I was living happily with my wife and sons and not contemplating any major change in my life or employment. But, it was all to change abruptly in the form of a letter from our company’s top management. It said that the company had just received a large government contract to develop and build a nuclear reactor power plant for the Nautilus, the world’s first nuclear submarine. It went on to say that they had picked me for a key position in the new Atomic Power Division and that I should report immediately for my new assignment. Little did I know at that time about the tremendous professional opportunities and challenges my new job would bring.
In 1949, Rickover, then a Captain, was about to see his long dream come to pass. After graduating from Annapolis and spending years in relative obscurity as a design engineer in naval ship construction, Rickover was given a special assignment during the War years to study nuclear engineering in the Oak Ridge National Laboratory. Whether his dream was born or matured there is not important. What is very important is that he left Oak Ridge with an overwhelming conviction to build not one submarine, not a fleet of submarines, but an entire nuclear navy free to roam the seas unencumbered by fuel tankers. The task of convincing the Navy brass and getting the Congressional appropriations was formidable, but Rickover sold them, first on the Nautilus project and then on all future nuclear ship construction. His desire and determination to attain his goals had to be witnessed in person to be believed. The next eight years made me a believer. The close of this eight-year segment of my memoirs includes my personal reflections on the personality and accomplishments of this remarkable individual. Some very shrewd planning went into Rickover’s plans for a nuclear navy. First of all, he picked the submarine to use the first nuclear reactor because of the dramatic change in performance and endurance that nuclear power would provide. Then he made a brilliant tactical move. He doubled his chances of success by awarding duplicate contracts to two commercial competitors. He gave the job of building a liquid sodium cooled reactor to General Electric in Schenectady and a contract for a light water cooled reactor to Westinghouse. This action guaranteed each company would use its best people and efforts to win the goal. From my vantage point in Pittsburgh, I can attest to the intense competition that ensued. RICKOVER’S PROJECT MANAGEMENT OFFICE Technical, financial and schedular management of the twin submarine contracts was provided by Rickover’s hand picked staff in Washington, DC. It consisted of active duty naval personnel and civilian technical experts in needed specialties. From Rickover on down, this group spent much of the time in the field overseeing their phases of the work. From my experience, they were capable and worked long and hard to achieve a successful mission. Rickover, personally, worked more hours than I can believe possible for a human being. He followed every technical detail. He chaired many decision meetings. For years after a full work day, he flew to Pittsburgh twice a week for evening meetings and then returned to Washington on the overnight train departing at twelve PM. I presume he spent an equal time in Schenectady.
To meet the nearly impossible schedule laid down in advance, Rickover realized that risks had to be assumed and that the most important thing was not to bog down in debate over technical decisions. In a typical evening decisions meeting, Rickover sat at the head of a conference table with all concerned specialists in the other seats. He would announce the purpose of the meeting and ask for any discussion. He would phrase the question to be decided and then go around the table asking each attendee for a vote of Yes or No or A or B. If the vote was close or even, Rickover would make the decision knowing that the most important thing was to move ahead and meet the schedule. I was the Westinghouse manager picked to develop and manufacture the nuclear core of the Nautilus—the unique central part of his great dream. My development laboratories and pilot manufacturing facilities were of great interest to Rickover and I personally guided him through them on nearly every one of his frequent visits to Pittsburgh. At the end of his tours, he always asked, "What do you need to speed up the work?" Once our facilities were complete, we quickly went to a seven-day, twenty-four hour operation and Rickover never stopped trying to add a 25th hour to the day. And, dear reader, remember this was in "peace" time. During the early months when we were building facilities and buying equipment, we were given generous budgets so that we could solve most foreseen needs. But once we were involved in the tough, trail blazing work described later, we had unexpected needs for funds. On one occasion when Rickover asked what we needed, I requested a million dollars for special equipment (real money in those days) and had the additional funding very quickly. That is how we were able to meet a very difficult schedule. UNUSUAL METALS NEEDED FOR THE NAUTILUS REACTOR Before the Navy issued its contract to build the reactor, they requested experts at the Oak Ridge National Laboratory to specify the basic characteristics of the design. It was to be a light-water cooled, thermal reactor using Uranium 238 slightly enriched with Uranium 235 from the Oak Ridge enrichment plant. In common terms, this means it used ordinary (not heavy) water to slow down the fast neutrons produced by fission of U235 to "thermal" energy so as to facilitate capture and more fissions of U235. The nuclear reactor was to be contained in a huge, steel pressure vessel, needed so that cooling water would still be liquid at the temperatures needed to produce power efficiently. These design features were very desirable for their inherent nuclear safety and physical compactness, both needed in a submarine and highly desirable for other applications as well. From a study of the known nuclear properties of all metals with high melting points, the design report specified that the nuclear core (the central space containing the U235 fuel elements which heat the cooling water to provide the energy) should use Zirconium as the structural material to hold and contain the fuel. Its sister metal, Hafnium, was specified for the control rods to provide safety and vary the reactor power output.
The Oak Ridge proposal was very fine in theory, but very radical in a practical sense since these wonder metals did not exist in the real world. Thanks to the wartime Bomb Project, there was a plentiful supply of nuclear fuel. There was a crucial need for a strong, corrosion-resistant metal with appropriate nuclear properties to contain the fuel and another metal to control the reactor power level. The designer’s choice of two ideal—but unavailable—metals posed a major immediate problem for the chosen contractor, Westinghouse, and for me personally since I was the manager designated to develop the metals and processes and build the reactor core. In the Fall of 1949, the world supply of these two (then rare) metals was measured in ounces and their purity level was very inadequate. The job ahead was unprecedented and formidable. WORK
BEGINS AT THE WESTINGHOUSE BETTIS AIRPORT AND ARCO, IDAHO SITES
COMMERCIAL DEVELOPMENT OF THE MIRACLE METALS The two metals that made the Nautilus a tremendous success are now performing well in scores of reactors in our nuclear U.S. Navy. They are also in hundreds of pressurized light-water reactors providing large amounts of electric power to many industrialized nations. The extraordinary story of their transition from unused rarities to widely used commercial metals has been hidden from the public. The exciting pioneer work was done in many laboratories across the country which provided specialized skills for the main goal of building a successful nuclear submarine on a "crash" schedule in peace time. In addition to the 200 scientists, engineers and technicians under my direction in Pittsburgh, there were major contributions from other laboratories. Basic metallurgy research on both metals and their alloys was conducted by a parallel group at Bettis. Important specialized assistance was given by classified research groups at Argonne National Laboratories in Chicago and Battelle Memorial in Columbus. The metals Titanium, Zirconium and Hafnium form group 4 B in the Periodic Table of Elements. Their minerals are prevalent in the earth’s crust, but are very difficult to reduce to metallic form. Titanium is the most common and has found major uses in airplanes and golf clubs because of its light weight. Its nuclear properties are not of interest. The primary interest in the denser and higher melting cousins Zr and Hf stems from their very unusual properties for water cooled nuclear reactors such as that of the Nautilus. Zr has a very low capture capability for slow neutrons such as those in water reactors. It is almost transparent to the neutrons needed to split the U235 atoms and is an ideal structural material to hold and contain the fuel in a reactor. On the other hand, Hf has a very high neutron capture capability and is an ideal material for control rods that will readily absorb neutrons to reduce and control the power level when desired or to shut down the reactor. Although Zr and Hf have very different nuclear properties, they are very similar in their chemistry. Because of this fact, they are usually found combined in the same beach sands which serve as their primary source. They are very reactive and require special procedures to remove the common impurities. They have very high melting points, so cannot be reduced from their ores with common methods. It is very important to emphasize that without a special chemical process to separate the 2% Hf "impurity" from the 98% zirconium, the original metal product is of no value in a nuclear reactor. For some time before work on the Nautilus project began, the U.S. Bureau of Mines in Albany, Oregon had a small scale program to improve processes for reducing the minerals in the nearby Oregon beach sands. Shortly after reporting to work as employee #12 at the Atomic Power Division, I made the first of many trips from Pittsburgh to Albany via Portland. [What a contrast to today’s flights - Prop-driven DC3’s flying through the Rocky mountain passes rather than over the peaks. On one return trip on a sunny winter day, our pilot circled around Old Faithful in Yellowstone so we could see the geyser spout. He wouldn’t try that today.] On my first trip to Albany, I held in my hand a small piece of impure zirconium sponge metal containing the usual 2% hafnium. It probably represented a large part of the total world supply at that point in time. It had been produced in a small retort containing zirconium chloride and magnesium metal as a reducing agent. The process was small scale, with many slow steps too complex to detail here. After the choice of this new metal for the Nautilus program, the work at the Bureau of Mines was greatly expanded and resulted in a more efficient and larger scale production process for producing sponge zirconium. Better procedures for separating the hafnium were developed and then for producing the desirable quantities of hafnium sponge metal. Based on the success of the laboratory and pilot scale work at Albany, a commercial firm took on the manufacture of much larger quantities of hafnium-free sponge zirconium. DEVELOPMENT OF REACTOR QUALITY METALS AND ALLOYS Pressurized water at 600 to 650 degrees F was quite corrosive to the early zirconium metal and its alloys melted from the best available sponge metal. A large alloy research and development program was launched at Westinghouse to obtain a high degree of corrosion resistance, but since success was not assured on the "crash" Navy schedule, we decided on a two prong approach: (1) Develop adequate quantities of ultra pure Zr and (2) develop improved corrosion resistance through alloying additions. For Goal 1, an unusual production plant was constructed at Bettis Field. It employed a very unorthodox (deBoer) process built and operated by the Bettis chemical engineering group. Large evacuated furnaces formed zirconium (or hafnium) iodide vapor that deposited the pure metals onto a hot filament. The Zr and Hf produced from this process was in the form of long crystalline bars of high purity metal. It was decided to use this metal as raw material for the nuclear core of the land based Mark 1 prototype reactor in Arco, Idaho. The alloy research and development work proceeded at a high rate using the pure crystal bar zirconium. Additions of moderate amounts of tin were found to be most effective in improving the high temperature water corrosion resistance of pure Zirconium. A binary alloy with tin was chosen for use in the Mark I prototype reactor core. It was given the name Zircaloy 1 to distinguish it from later alloys. DEVELOPMENT OF EQUIPMENT AND PROCESSES FOR FABRICATING THE NUCLEAR CORE Due to its high melting point and very reactive nature, it was impossible to melt and fabricate Zr in air or in conventional metal processing equipment. It was highly reactive to available refractories. In any atmosphere other than a high vacuum or pure helium, Zr absorbs oxygen and nitrogen from the atmosphere and cannot be used. It was necessary from the very beginning for Westinghouse personnel to develop and build special arc melting furnaces to produce ingots of a size and shape suitable for processing into the required shapes for the reactor fuel elements. In the initial alloy development work, the small arc melting furnaces used tungsten electrodes and water cooled copper crucibles. Small diameter ingots from these furnaces were then used as consumable electrodes for a second, larger scale arc melting operation. The remelting operation significantly reduced impurities. Due to the extreme schedule urgency dictated by the Navy, the reactor core for the Mark I prototype was produced from pure crystal bar Zr alloyed with tin (Zircaloy 1) to provide adequate corrosion resistance. In the early days of producing crystal bar Zr, Rickover decided—in a major gamble—not to use this expensive process for the Nautilus. Since he wanted to build many nuclear powered vessels, he ordered full speed ahead on the further development of better quality sponge and melting processes. Although there was no guarantee of success at that time, his dream of a fully commercial Zr industry was realized. Eventually after much hard work in the laboratory, we were able—with better sponge quality and larger-scale double consumable arc melting—to produce reactor grade Zr. The De Boer crystal bar plant was closed. Thus, our two miracle metals became fully available for the Nautilus Mark II core. The specialized equipment and processes needed for the Nautilus core were subsequently scaled up for the much larger production requirements of the future nuclear navy and hundreds of commercial nuclear power plants. SELECTING THE ALLOY FOR THE NAUTILUS CORE I have a vivid memory, almost five decades later, of the meeting to specify the precise composition of the zirconium-base alloy for the Nautilus. Like all previous major decisions, it was done on the last possible date permitted by the schedule for the Mark II core. This permitted completion of a maximum number of critical, long term corrosion tests. The meeting was in my office at about 9 p.m. I cannot remember the day of the week since 7 work day weeks were common. Attending were the writer and the three other principal managers involved in the critical alloy development and testing work. We reviewed all the relevant data, including tests just completed. We agreed on the percentage of the principal alloying agent, tin, and then debated the merits of minor beneficial amounts of nickel, chromium and iron (curiously, all needed for stainless steel). After discussion, we put a final composition to a vote and the composition for Zircaloy 2 for the Nautilus core was set in concrete. We left the meeting for home and sleep, united in our confidence that our chosen alloy, manufactured by a complex process we had pioneered, would do the job. The full, long operating history of naval reactors since then has confirmed our faith. Approximately
20 years later, when the Nautilus was close to ending its brilliant
service, four principal contributors to the development of zirconium
alloys received public recognition. At the October 1972 annual meeting
of the American Society for Metals in Cleveland, the writer and three
others were honored with the Engineering Materials Achievement Award for
that year. The large certificate on my wall reads "For the
development of Zirconium Alloy Systems and their contributions to
Nuclear Energy." U.S. patents were granted to me and 3 others for
the Zircaloy compositions and to me and one other person for the double
consumable arc-melting process. The year 1953 was extremely busy for all persons working on development and manufacture of the reactor cores for the Mark I and Mark II power plants. As soon as the Mark I core was shipped to Arco, Idaho for the initial nuclear power run, all facilities and personnel at Bettis worked around the clock as needed to meet the schedule for the Nautilus. In June 1953 the full power run at Arco was made with total success, thus removing any possible roadblock to shipping the Nautilus core to meet the launch schedule at the Groton, Connecticut plant of General Dynamics, the submarine builder. The complete success at Arco gave the hard working team at Bettis their first chance at recognition by the outside world. Although all details about the nuclear plant were withheld, the Navy released some photographs of the Arco reactor plus limited information on the soon to be launched Nautilus. The top management of Westinghouse was extremely happy with the good news from Arco, especially because their Navy project appeared to be progressing better than a second submarine of different concept under contract to General Electric. In the end, it turned out that the brilliant Nautilus success was not duplicated. The GE-built Sea Wolf submarine eventually made several test runs at sea and was then dismantled. So great was the confidence at this time in the complete success of the Nautilus, that the President of Westinghouse awarded his company’s highest honor—the Order of Merit—to ten key Bettis managers. Pittsburgh’s leading paper publicized the event with photos of the ten awardees. The impressive, self-standing bronze medal contains a large silver W and the inscription "To whom his fellow men delight to honor." I have displayed mine proudly since 1953 and consider it a partial return for the long hours and mental strain involved. Fortunately, this is not an honor a recipient must die for. THE LAUNCHING OF THE NAUTILUS
EXPERIENCES OF MY TWO SUBMARINE RIDES Rickover was a strong advocate of training for key Westinghouse and Navy personnel. For example, the officer crew of the Nautilus had been selected by the time we started work at the old Bettis Airport in late 1949. When they took command in 1954, they understood every detail of the nuclear plant design and construction. While the facilities were being built, we attended courses in Reactor Physics even though not needed directly in our field of work. More pertinent education in radiation damage to metals was gained by visits to experts in government laboratories at Argonne and Oak Ridge. Rickover also wanted the key non-Navy personnel to have a "feel" for the unusual environment of a submarine.
During the course of the day, we probably made about 20 or 30 dives. What made each of them exciting was that the sub was longer than the depth of the water, so there was always the possibility of sticking the prow of the sub in the mud. Coming up had more interesting possibilities. Although there was a crewman looking out through a periscope, there were always a few small boats in our immediate vicinity when we rose to the surface. Our final surprise of the busy day was when we learned that the young crewmen operating the diving planes were also on their FIRST SUBMARINE RIDE. They had just finished their six-week training program on land and this was their graduation exercise. At day end, we all received cards signed by the Commander signifying we were members of "The New Order of Guppy Snorkelers." We left this cruise with a full understanding of why nuclear power was necessary in submarines. To a first visitor, the Atule was crowded, smelly, noisy and generally unattractive. At that time I had never in my wildest thoughts ever dreamed of a ride in the Nautilus. When that great surprise came, just ten months later, it was not a business trip but a wonderful gesture of appreciation and thanks from Admiral Rickover. After launching the Nautilus, several months were needed to fit it for service followed by numerous test runs at sea to determine its full range of capabilities. It was commissioned as SSN-571 in September 1954. Of course the details of its incredible speed and performance were closely held, but I learned many years later that its performance forced the Navy to develop measures for future defense against such capabilities in unfriendly hands. May 8, 1955 was the date I became an "Atomic Submariner Extraordinary" according to my Order of the Nuclear Navy card signed by E.P. Wilkinson, Nautilus Commander. Unlike the Guppy sub commander, Gene Wilkinson was an old friend from his frequent visits to Bettis. Surprisingly, he was not an Annapolis graduate, but his abilities were very great as he rose to high Naval commands later in his career. Undersea travel on the Nautilus was unlike any other experience. It was like a luxury cruise ship, but much quieter and smoother. We had the sensation of traveling very fast, but we were never given a number. The crew quarters were very spacious and provided means for their entertainment on long cruises. The officer’s mess was equipped with a full set of Zircaloy cutlery. This jewel-like, unique set was furnished at an unknown, but almost certainly large cost by a supplier company at Rickover’s request. Unlike our first undersea experience, there was absolutely no excitement. But the trip was well earned and appreciated by the small group of Bettis employee invitees. Despite my long acquaintance with Rickover, I never had any idea that his great thank-you gift would be forthcoming. As a complete surprise, it was even more pleasurable. THE SHIPPINGPORT CIVILIAN POWER PLANT
A land-based power plant does not have to be especially compact and is not subject to the many large motions of a naval vessel. It must however be earthquake resistant. Cost was a big factor, so every effort was made to design a reactor core that would be simple and economical to manufacture. So the chosen nuclear core design was radically different from that in the Nautilus but, outside the pressure vessel, the power plant was almost identical. The miracle metals zirconium and hafnium were again to be used in the core, but the uranium-bearing fuel elements were to have a completely new composition and structure. The slightly enriched U235 fuel was to be used as a ceramic oxide rather than a metal alloy. This required personnel under my direction to develop completely different equipment and processes to manufacture the reactor core. Accordingly, we designed and built a large combined laboratory and manufacturing plant called the "G" building since the "F" building was still busy with advanced submarine cores. Again, as before, it was all done on a crash schedule. The civilian power plant was called the PWR, short for Pressurized Water Reactor. It was designed to produce 75 megawatts of electricity for Duquesne Light customers in the Pittsburgh area. Although too small to generate electricity at a competitive cost, this pioneering plant was the prototype for very many large 1200 MW plants subsequently built in the U.S. and abroad. The plant was opened in a gala ceremony, with the startup signaled by President Eisenhower pressing a key in Washington, DC. One small detail of the luncheon served under tents that hot summer day in1956 permits me to tell an unusual story about Rickover. At each place for the hundred or so distinguished guests was an inexpensive souvenir. It was a small plastic model of a Westinghouse TV with a picture of the new reactor on the "screen." It probably cost about a dollar to make. This unique little souvenir was conspicuously absent from the places for the Bettis employees and their wives. Some time later, I asked our Bettis division manager if he could get me one of the souvenirs. It was not forthcoming, so on the next visit I had from Rickover I repeated my request. I then forgot about the whole incident. Several weeks later my big boss called on the phone and said that he had something for me. In his office, he reached into a desk drawer with a grin and pulled out the desired TV souvenir. He said that the Admiral, in a phone call, had asked him to give me the souvenir. I still treasure the unexpected gift and have it on my desk as I write. It is an example of Rickover’s attention to the most minute detail. THE LARGE SHIP REACTOR PROJECT The project for the first nuclear carrier was born early in the Mark II program for the Nautilus, but at a low exploratory level. It was expected to require installation of eight Nautilus-size reactors—a huge task. It was also decided to take a fresh look at new fuel materials to see if they offered any advantages. In November 1954 after the Nautilus was at sea, I learned by copy of a letter to Rickover from our Bettis manager, that Rickover had—without my knowledge—requested that I be transferred to the new LSR project. Our manager stated that I was urgently needed to complete the PWR reactor, but would be made available in June 1955. Rickover could have ordered my transfer, but chose not to do so at that time. In June of 1955, I became manager of the Core Engineering Dept with a large group of people to develop the LSR cores. This was a job that involved line responsibility for the work. I had only been in this new job for several months when I received a surprise phone call from my division manager. Rickover had called and this time he didn’t request my transfer, he ordered it. He wanted me to be relieved of my supervisory responsibility and made Task Leader of a small staff group to investigate a special study of a new fuel material. It was flattering to be wanted, but I was not happy with the move. Happy or not, we pitched in and got the new job done and I returned to my earlier spot in the organization. This was just another example of who was running the show. Our paycheck said Westinghouse, but our real boss was Rickover. DEVELOPING COMMERCIAL NUCLEAR CORE MANUFACTURING PLANTS With the great success of the Nautilus, it was obvious that the Navy would require quantities of nuclear cores for initial installation in new vessels and to replace spent cores in operating ships. Accordingly, Bettis employees were actively involved in providing information and assistance to companies who had been selected as prospective Navy core vendors. This was a thoroughly enjoyable task as it signified that our earlier pioneering efforts had been successful beyond our wildest dreams at the start. MY ELEVEN DAYS IN ENGLAND WITH RICKOVER With the Nautilus at sea and the follow-on PWR program going well, Rickover apparently decided he could afford to undertake an unusual information-gathering project. It was one of the first—if not the first—such project of its kind. Its goal was to gather all the scientific and engineering information that the British government had accumulated from their own extensive nuclear research programs. It was to include everything they had done on nuclear power including all classified work. Appropriate approvals were obtained on both sides of the ocean for eight people to visit the British national laboratories and nuclear facilities. The party consisted of Rickover, three of his senior staff, two from General Electric and two from Westinghouse. I am going to give details that illustrate some interesting characteristics of Rickover and how he chose to tackle a job. I had plenty of opportunity to observe him in a quite different environment. Our party of eight assembled in Washington on a Saturday in mid-December 1954 for a final briefing. The flight to Boston was uneventful, but we were detained for three hours by strong headwinds before taking off for London. At the Boston airport, I soon found that I had to buy crackers for Rickover if I wanted to quell my own hunger pangs during the long wait. The plane was a propeller-driven Boeing Stratacruiser requiring 16 hours for the flight to London. After a multi-course dinner spread over many hours, Rickover retired to one of several berths on the large plane. It was mid-afternoon on Sunday when we arrived and by pre-arrangement a large and distinguished British group awaited us at their main Harwell nuclear laboratory near Oxford. Sir John Cockroft, famed Nobel Laureate and Harwell Director, greeted us and started to discuss the agenda they had prepared. It involved weekdays only with short morning and afternoon sessions broken by long coffee and tea breaks etc. Before he finished, Rickover jumped to his feet and announced his schedule of long full-day work sessions with few breaks and continuing through Saturday and Sunday. He also specified we would need expert secretarial service in the final days to complete our report before departing. The assembled British experts had never experienced anything like this, but Rickover got what he asked for: access to their working level technical experts plus secretarial support. Rickover and his chief assistant, Commander Louis Roddis, elected to spend full time traveling to all far-flung British nuclear facilities. The remaining six worked strenuous, full days in detailed interview sessions with Harwell experts that started early and lasted late. [In an interesting tie-in with this trip, Lou Roddis, in 1971, was Vice-Chairman of Con Edison Electric in New York City and invited me to head their nuclear safety/quality control function.] So, I completed my 31-year nuclear career working with Con Edison’s three nuclear plants on the Hudson river, north of New York, York City. I retired in 1980 having formed the first Quality Control and Reliability function in the Electric Utility industry. All of our party stayed in the Crown and Thistle Inn in Abingdon built in fourteen hundred something. It had no central heat and was bitter cold when we returned at night since the maids opened all the windows each day. Based on my prior experience that Rickover expected and enjoyed small favors, at breakfast I always bought two morning papers for a halfpenny each. We were driven to and from the Harwell lab each day in small passenger cars, always at breakneck speed on orders from the Admiral. Near the end of our trip, we attended a swanky dinner party on a very foggy evening. Rickover was in the front seat of one car and I was in the rear. We were late. The curvy, country road was barely wide enough for two small cars. I was squirming in the back seat; while Rickover kept urging the driver to go faster. Fortunately, there were few oncoming cars and we made it. We had survived previous such incidents of crazy speed, but they were all in daylight on good U.S. roads. Rickover had a knack for creating problems for those trying to assist him. True to precedent, on the Sunday morning following our full week in Britain, Rickover’s electric razor failed to function. Again, in his usual form, he made a very big fuss, much to the chagrin of the rest of his party. Our hosts had to move heaven and earth to get it fixed on a Sunday morning, but eventually did. We finished our work and had the secretaries type the lengthy report. These girls had never before worked evenings or weekends. As gifts, we bought them all much-treasured silk stockings. Rickover was pleased with our work and told us to take an extra day in London and do some Christmas shopping. He did not know it, but with this extra day, he saved our lives. The plane, originally scheduled for our return, crashed with loss of all passengers on the first leg from London to Glasgow. We neither saw nor heard about our report again, but it was a memorable trip. We, and our Christmas gifts, arrived home safely after a sixteen-hour flight at 8,000 feet because of headwinds. It was good to be back home and enjoy our central heating in the good old USA. REFLECTIONS ON H. G. RICKOVER Rickover, in my considered judgment, was truly a great man. He was tough and single-minded. He planned well and followed the plan to a successful conclusion. He chose good subordinates and could not stand incompetence at any level. He was like a bull in a china shop. He was a man, small in stature, who hid his inferiority complex by always being the first to attack. In every personal confrontation, he struck first to disadvantage his opponent. He was the most determined, tenacious man I ever knew. He was a very demanding and difficult superior under whom to work. He never intended or tried to win a popularity contest, but he made a tremendous contribution to the Navy, our Nation, and the world with his pioneering nuclear power accomplishments. With his career-long "pedal-to-the-floor attitude", it's a wonder Rickover lived to reach his old age. But he did survive countless trips to innumerable airports; while urging the driver "Can’t you go any faster?" He took up the goal of better education after leaving the Navy and became a national spokesman for this cause.
I can recall only one direct compliment from Rickover in my eight years with his programs. I always knew that I held his respect, since I would have been replaced at any time he was dissatisfied. In August 1955, I did receive a letter over his signature addressed to "Dear Bob." It thanked me for my contributions to a major 740-page book on "The Metallurgy of Zirconium" written by many expert authors at his specific request. I edited a large chapter on "Melting and Shaping of Zirconium and its Alloys." If my memory is correct, this was the only time Rickover addressed me by my first name. My only knowledge of the war-time Manhattan Bomb Project directed by Major General Leslie Groves comes from reading about it after the war. Groves was widely acclaimed for his genius in guiding this program. It is not possible to compare the Bomb and Nautilus projects, but Groves had the highest national wartime priority to aid him plus the advantage that the end product needed only a useful life measured in microseconds rather than years. Grove’s achievements were widely applauded after the war; while Rickover’s name slid into relative obscurity, remembered only by those who worked by his side. Although there were times when I had less than happy thoughts about my old "boss," I truly feel at this time that he was a great leader and I have nothing but admiration and respect for his achievements. REFLECTIONS ON THE WONDERS OF CREATION Thinking not of the entire Universe, but just of Planet Earth, consider these miracles: 1.
A
metallic element Uranium and its fissionable isotope U235, capable
of releasing enormous amounts of energy for good or evil.
©
2000-2003
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AMERICAN PRIDE AND POWER -
NEVER SELL IT SHORT
HYMAN
G. RICKOVER, FATHER OF THE NUCLEAR NAVY
In
the first year of the program while our facilities were being built at
Bettis Field, Pittsburgh, Rickover used the capabilities at other Atomic
Energy Commission (AEC) facilities to do the early experimental work on
the effects of nuclear irradiation on materials. He presided over large
classified meetings that were regularly held at these sites to
coordinate the work of the widespread experimenters. Smaller meetings
were held in our limited space at Bettis. On those occasions, Rickover
appeared not to recognize my presence. He was not known for small talk
or idle chatter, but I was puzzled by his attitude. I knew that my
credentials had passed across his desk before being assigned to work at
Bettis. This awkward situation changed dramatically when, in a
subsequent large meeting at Battelle in Columbus, Ohio, I rose and asked
him a challenging question. There was noticeable stir in the audience.
He knew me after that.
January
21, 1954 was a great day for every contributor to the design and
construction of the vessel and its nuclear power plant. On a gray winter
day in Groton, Connecticut, Mamie Eisenhower, the President’s wife,
raised the champagne bottle and almost missed the boat due to its swift
slide into the Thames river. I was fortunate to attend all the festive
activities as a guest of the Electric Boat division of General Dynamics,
the builder. During the short trip into the water, I was completely
overcome by my emotions with tears running down both cheeks. This was
totally unexpected as it had never happened in my adult life to that
day. I think that this emotional release was beneficial to me as I
returned to complete the Nautilus core and go on to other
first-of-their-kind achievements dreamed up by our insatiable Navy
project leader Rickover.
So,
in line with this philosophy, a small group from Bettis received
invitations to spend July 26, 1954 on a scheduled crew training trip in
a Guppy Snorkeler sub, the Atule SS-403, based in Groton, CT. It was a
Sunday and the weather was sunny with patches of fog on Long Island
sound. The water was cluttered with small pleasure craft both motor and
sail-powered. The Atule was about 300 feet long and we spent the entire
day practicing diving for the benefit of the crew. These were
"real" dives with the conning tower hatch open and two men on
deck. The boat would start to dive immediately after a loud siren
sounded Dive! Dive! The men on deck would race to the hatch, get inside
and close it as they tumbled down the vertical ladder. Each dive was
unique and collectively they made for an interesting day.
The
complete success of the Mark I "submarine in the desert" was
all the evidence Rickover needed to unwrap his big plans. These, of
course, involved his dream to place duplicate copies of the Nautilus
reactor on every new major naval ship including cruisers and aircraft
carriers. All of these things would be accomplished in due time, but
involved mainly design and construction work. Rickover needed another
huge "first" to follow the Nautilus. Thus was born the joint
project with Duquesne Light Co. to build the first central station
nuclear power plant. A site was selected at Shippingport on the shore of
the Ohio river, south of Pittsburgh and the Westinghouse Bettis plant
geared up for a brand new project.
Despite
his huge contributions to the Navy, Rickover’s disrespect for
authority and abrasive ways created problems with his superiors who
tried several times to force his retirement. But, thanks to his great
popularity with Congress, these attempts failed. By withholding naval
appropriations, they forced the Navy brass to promote rather than retire
Rickover. He spent his final years as a Vice-Admiral. He was finally
retired by President Reagan at age 80. During all the time this
interesting Washington drama was playing to the final curtain, my moral
support always went to the Admiral.
