R. E. Newell (I wish I knew the first name) was the earliest chief engineer of the Chalk River nuclear laboratory in Canada. Like others, he originated from chemical giant ICI in the United Kingdom. He is another of those characters who pop up in the history, only to vanish, and in his case it was probably due to his personality. The official Canadian nuclear historian mentions him as. . .

The British World War II atomic effort was named Tube Alloys and it relied heavily on a Technical Committee of just over half a dozen scientists. John Cockcroft was the focus of attention on January 29, 1946, when the 28th meeting of the Technical Committee was held, because Cockcroft was about to kick off his Harwell laboratory and various reactors. Christopher Hinton’s complementary. . .

An unusual 1957 book I came across was by Leonard Bertin. I think he was a journalist. Hardly anyone cites this book, the British nuclear pioneers only mention it once or twice in correspondence, there’s a certain clumsiness about it … yet he extracts some lovely interviews. In particular he seems to have struck up rapport with England’s #2 nuclear engineer, Leonard (Len) Owen. . .

For a time the United Kingdom outstripped even the United States with its nuclear reactor program, even though it began from scratch three years later and with few resources. The British effort was a joint one between the scientists at Harwell—by the 1950s one of the premier nuclear laboratories of the world—and the engineers at Risley, a talented and aggressive bunch. Harwell and Risley bickered. . .

I’ve quoted Frank Close before but here is an evocative picture of Harwell, one of the most significant nuclear laboratories established globally: After the end of the war, in 1946, this site was taken over by “the Atomic,” as Harwell Laboratory was affectionately known. The Atomic had an air of mystery, even of menace. Tall chimneys, tower blocks, and offices of red brick, prettified with. . .

One issue of relevance when considering the early development of reactors by the Soviet Union is the extent to which it was aided by atomic espionage. The tale of Klaus Fuchs is familiar and he certainly helped Soviet bomb development, but I could find no solid evidence that he assisted with the development of the first “peaceful” Soviet reactor. I also took interest in the 1950. . .

When the co-head of the postwar UK atomic effort, Christopher Hinton, died in 1983, aged 82, one of his eulogies came from an unusual source. Margaret Gowing, the official historian of the United Kingdom Atomic Energy Authority (with various names throughout its history), penned a remarkable 23-page eulogy. She was able to do this because she established a close professional relationship with. . .

One can never get enough snapshots of Enrico Fermi, the 1942 “developer” of the first reactor and, some would say, the last great combined theoretical and experimental physicist. Listen to Stuart McLain, Oak Ridge physicist, from his charming autobiography Me!: Or Don’t Do It My Way (provided with great generosity by his son, Douglas McLain): Dr. Fermi attended one meeting that. . .

I’m not sure what kinds of airplanes flew from Washington, D.C. to Florida in 1957 but I’m pretty sure they wouldn’t have been quiet and comfortable. I enjoyed noticing how hard one of the reactor developers, Walter Zinn, worked and traveled after he left government employment to run his own company in Dunedin, Florida. Here he is, writing to his friend James Ramey who worked at. . .

The British archival goldmine of Christopher Hinton’s diaries (not all of which can be viewed) offers a look at some of the quirks of that mercurial, impressive man. On January 1 each year he would grab the newspaper (not sure which one but probably The Times) and check the British honours list. He liked to line himself up against peers but especially against his ally and rival John. . .