At the end of 1950, Christopher Hinton, the head of UK’s atomic factories, wrote to a Miss Lowrison, who I presume is personal secretary of Lord Portal, Hinton’s overlord in the Ministry of Supply. The very first of the nation’s military plutonium production reactors had just sputtered into life after experiencing half a year of difficulties, and everyone desperately hoped that. . .
A minor but surprisingly crucial U.S.-U.K. scientific interaction in the early history of English reactors was a June 1948 trip to the mother country by Walter Zinn, who ran Argonne. I was amused to discover from this letter, four months earlier, from an English diplomat in Washington to John Cockcroft, presaging Zinn’s journey, that it might not have even occurred if Zinn’s allergies. . .
Few scientists in the late 1940s were as powerful as England’s John Cockcroft and few were as mild in manner. Thus the following brief letter to a London public servant, quaint as the language is, shows how tough he could be in protecting Harwell, his creation: You might like to see the attached cutting about Sir Ralph Glyn, who is apparently still make rude remarks about Harwell. I think. . .
British physicist Terence Price had a way with words as well as numbers. In his autobiography, he recalls the start-up of what we would now call a minor research reactor, but was then significant. Bepo—British Experimental Pile 0—clicked into life on July 3, 1948. Price recalls his amazement that it was “painted in a colour that I had not previously encountered—heliotrope” (I too had. . .