Odd Nansen, The Atomic Bomb, and the Start of the Cold War

“Yesterday [was] . . . one of the heaviest raids we have ever witnessed.  It was on Oranienburg, and camps and buildings in the immediate neighborhood of Sachsenhausen were leveled to the ground.

From the moment the first bombs dropped, we realized that this was more our concern than usual.  For in general we’ve gotten used to taking very little notice.   But the bomb thuds this time were not to be stifled.  At every deafening crash, and one had the impression that whole showers of bombs were coming down, the huts shook so that every­thing hanging on the walls or standing loose on shelves fell to the floor, and every moment we were expecting that the roof would lift in the blast and the walls collapse on us. But they stood up, for a wonder. The raid lasted two hours—that is, it didn’t stop, only quietened down a bit, and the planes stopped coming; otherwise it’s still on, twenty-four hours later, and has been all the time, with an unbroken series of exploding time bombs. During the raid the whole of Oranienburg and the district up to this camp were larded with bombs, a large proportion of them time bombs. All night long colossal explosions have been shak­ing the huts in all their joints.”

                                                          Odd Nansen’s Diary, Friday, March 16, 1945

Apart from the unusual intensity observed by Odd Nansen in his description of the bombing of Oranienburg, site of Sachsenhausen Camp, 80 years ago today, there is little to suggest any deeper significance behind the raid of March 15, 1945.  The U.S. Army Eighth Air Force description of the raid was similarly unhelpful.  Mission 828 involved the dispatch of 612 B-17 Flying Fortresses to hit “German Army HQ and marshalling yards at Oranienburg.”

One might question why 612 bombers needed to drop 1,500 tons of high explosives and another 170 tons of incendiaries to take out some marshalling yards and a headquarters site.

And, apparently, there is more to the story.

Unbeknownst to Odd Nansen, Oranienburg was the home of Auergesellschaft, an industrial firm.  Founded in 1892 by German-Jewish entrepreneur and banker Leopold Koppel and Carl Auer von Welsbach, the company specialized in research and manufacturing in areas of rare earths, radioactivity, uranium, and thorium-based products such as gas mantles. One of their other product lines in the 1920s even included Doramad, a radioactive toothpaste with trace amounts of thorium.  (Without a hint of irony it touted Doramad’s hardening of teeth and “brighter smile.”)

Aryanized in 1934 (i.e., stolen from Koppel), by 1939 Auergesellschaft had turned to high-grade uranium oxide processing—part of Germany’s nascent atomic research program.

So, it wasn’t marshalling yards that the Eighth Air Force were so eager to get at after all.

According to historian and Churchill biographer Martin Gilbert: “[O]n March 15, American bombers, at the urgent request of Major-General Leslie R. Groves, the head of the American atomic bomb ‘Manhattan’ Project, dropped nearly 1,300 [sic] tons of high explosives and incendiary bombs on the German thorium ore processing plant at Oranienburg.  All the above-ground parts of the plant were completely destroyed.”  Furthermore, “German atomic bomb research [was] brought to a halt.”

But even that description is a bit misleading.

By mid-March 1945, Germany’s war effort was in shambles—the nation would capitulate less than eight weeks later.  As early as late 1944 it had become evident to the Alsos Misson that Germany’s atomic effort had not gotten past the research and development stage.  The Alsos Mission was a joint U.S.—British undertaking to 1) investigate the extent of Germany’s atomic bomb efforts and 2) seize any German nuclear resources that could be useful to the Manhattan Project.  The unstated corollary to this last point was the desire to deny any such resources to the Soviets.  Not surprisingly, the Soviets had a similar effort underway in the areas they occupied.

British and American members of the Alsos Mission dismantle an experimental nuclear reactor that German scientists had built as part of Germany’s atomic project

By the time Nansen witnessed the March 15 raid, it had been agreed that Oranienburg would end up in the Soviet occupation zone. (Oranienburg, and Sachsenhausen, including Tommy Buergenthal, were liberated by Soviet forces five weeks later, on April 22.) But interrogations of German POWs revealed that uranium and thorium processing was occurring at Auergesellschaft.   If the Alsos Mission was not going to capture Auergesellschaft intact, with its nuclear secrets, the U.S. and Great Britain were equally determined that the Soviets were not going to either.  So, the attack of March 15 was directed, not at the Germans, but at the Soviets.

Odd Nansen had witnessed, and unwittingly written about, not the final act of World War II, but the opening act of the Cold War.

Note: Because of the unprecedented bombing effort aimed at it, and the large amounts of radioactive elements released into the surrounding area from the bombing, Oranienburg to this day is called Germany’s most radioactive city.  Moreover, due to the amount of unexploded ordnance resulting from the March 15 raid, which is still being carefully removed to this day, it is also called Germany’s most dangerous city.

Note: Despite the efforts of the Eighth Air Force, the Soviets were able to capture several tons of high-grade uranium oxide elsewhere in Germany.  According to Soviet nuclear physicist Yulii Khariton, this captured uranium advanced the Soviet atom bomb project by at least one year.  The Soviets exploded their first nuclear device on August 29, 1949.

 

From Day to Day: One Man’s Diary of Survival in Nazi Concentration Camps

Hailed by The New Yorker as “among the most compelling documents to come out of the war,” From Day to Day is a World War II concentration camp diary—one of only a handful ever translated into English—secretly written by Odd Nansen, a Norwegian political prisoner. Arrested in January 1942, Nansen, son of polar explorer and humanitarian Fridtjof Nansen (Nobel Peace Prize 1922) was held captive for the duration of the war in various Nazi camps in Norway and Germany.

Nansen’s diary entries detail his palpable longing for his wife and family, his constantly frustrated hopes for release, the quiet strength and sometimes ugly prejudices of his fellow prisoners, and his horror at the especially barbaric treatment reserved for the Jews. The diary brilliantly illuminates Nansen’s daily struggle, not only to survive, but to preserve his sanity and maintain his humanity in a world engulfed by fear and hate.

First published in English in 1949, From Day to Day had been out of print for almost seventy years. The new edition contains entries and sketches never previously available in English. It also features a new introduction and extensive annotations by Timothy Boyce and a preface by Thomas Buergenthal, whose life (as a ten year-old) Nansen saved while in Sachsenhausen, later recounted in his own memoir A Lucky Child: A Memoir of Surviving Auschwitz as a Young Boy.