Historically Speaking: The arrival of the atomic age
Betty Kruger began the month of August in 1945 canning beans. Her husband, Bob, was working day shifts doing war work. She tended the victory garden and taught piano lessons. The war was coming to a close - everyone knew that.
The European theater had ended in April. Roosevelt was dead, Hitler was dead, Churchill was voted out of power. Everything felt somehow different, yet still the same. Middle-aged Betty and Bob had grown accustomed to life during wartime. It was not easy, but at least they were used to the rhythms of rationing, making do, casualty lists and worry. The future seemed to hold long battles, and more losses, in the final push to take the Japanese mainland.
On August 6th, President Truman was onboard the USS Augusta returning from the Potsdam Conference when he announced that the United States had dropped a single bomb on the Japanese city of Hiroshima. It was no ordinary bomb. “It is an atomic bomb,” he said using a phrase new to everyone, “It is a harnessing of the basic power of the universe. The force from which the sun draws its power has been loosed against those who brought the war to the Far East.”
Historically Speaking:The battle for liquor in Exeter
The Portsmouth Herald, a daily newspaper published in the evening, broke the story in the New Hampshire Seacoast. “This awful bomb is the answer, President Truman’s statement said, to Japan’s failure to heed the Potsdam demand that she surrender unconditionally at once or face utter destruction.” Betty wrote in her diary that she listened to “radio all evening.”
Three days later, when the Exeter News-Letter published its weekly paper, the editor called the bomb “The Miracle of the Ages” for what everyone assumed would be a rapid end to the war. “We are assured that its use will shorten the war with Japan, if the Japanese war leaders condescend to surrender, or, if they persist in resistance, result I such wholesale destruction of the homeland as to make continuance of the war impracticable.” The short editorial ended with a compelling bit of foreshadowing, “Far reaching consequences beyond the range of warfare are expected from the penetration into the secrets of the atom now for the first time accomplished.”
Historically Speaking:The bubbly world of the soda fountain
The News-Letter had already gone to press on August 9th with the knowledge that a second atomic bomb had been dropped on Japan. There was only time for the editor to make a quick note, “we had hoped to be the first newspaper to bring the news of (Japanese) surrender to our Exeter readers. So, IF Japan surrenders late today, we will have printed too early to spread the glad tidings as a newspaper, but not too early to SHOUT the good news as happy Americans.”
Truman addressed the nation in a radio broadcast that evening. To the dismay of most listeners, he was not able to announce a Japanese surrender. Instead, he explained the agreements made at the Potsdam Conference, including the demand for unconditional surrender. The sight of European destruction reminded the president that the United States mainland had not suffered the way other combatants had. The war needed to end and if it took the most destructive weapon ever developed to achieve that goal then so be it. “We have used it in order to shorten the agony of war, in order to save the lives of thousands and thousands of young Americans. We shall continue to use it until we completely destroy Japan’s power to make war. Only a Japanese surrender will stop us.” The world waited.
Historically Speaking:Chinese families in Exeter
Betty continued canning beets and beans. The weekend arrived, hot, humid, oppressive. She and Bob ate outside on the porch to catch some air. Tuesday arrived with a break in the heat. There were rumors of peace. Whether due to the cooler air or pent-up excitement, Betty kept busy all morning canning fourteen more pints of vegetables. “Peace rumors,” she wrote in her diary in pencil. Below that entry, added hastily, but with excitement in pen, “PEACE.”
Exeter, as everywhere in the U.S., went wild with celebration. A young George Dufour recalled the bonfire lit on the Phillips Exeter Academy playing fields. “There probably wasn’t a wooden chair left in the school,” he recalled. On his way home, he heard bellringing at the Congregational Church. Peering inside the open doors, he saw church members pulling the bell ropes. They invited him, a Catholic boy, to enter the forbidden world of New England Protestantism, and he eagerly helped ring the church bell that evening. The next two days were listed as “holidays” in Betty’s diary. The war had ended, but the horror of the atomic age had begun.
Barbara Rimkunas is the curator of the Exeter Historical Society. Support the Exeter Historical Society by becoming a member. Join online at www.exeterhistory.org.