Even though I had friends like Donald Hyers, and some new acquaintances among mathematicians, physicists, and chemists, with this growing disenchantment I wanted to leave. The Los Angeles experience had not been satisfactory.
Just then I received a telegram inviting me to return to Los Alamos in a better position and at a higher salary. It was signed by Bob Richtmyer and Nick Metropolis. Richtmyer had become head of the theoretical division.
This offer to return to Los Alamos to work among physicists and live once again in the exhilarating climate of New Mexico was a great relief for me. I replied immediately that I was interested in principle. When the telegram arrived at the laboratory, it read that I was interested "in principal."
Chapter 10. Back at Los Alamos
Los Alamos was at about the lowest point in its existence. Yet on returning I found that there were a number of people who had decided to stay on and that the government wanted to keep the laboratory going and have it flourish. The laboratory was to continue studies and the development of atomic bombs.
After the war there was, of course, the question of possible new wars and the weaponry of the future. I was in favor of continuing strong armament policies if only not to run the risk of being overtaken by other nations. Johnny and others were apprehensive about Russia's ability to obtain or to develop nuclear bombs, and about its intentions towards Western Europe. He was quite hawkish at that time (the words "hawks" and "doves" were not yet in use). He thought along the old historical lines of rivalries, power struggles, coalitions; he was for a Pax Americana more than some of our other physicist friends. He also foresaw early that the essential military problems would shift from the bombs themselves and their sizes and shapes to ways to deliver them — that is to say, to rocketry.
My own position was sort of halfway between him and the physicists who hoped to internationalize nuclear weapons. I thought it was naive to expect that the wolves would lie down with the lambs and felt that meaningful international agreements would take many years. One could not hope for an instant change in attitudes or in human nature itself. I distrusted the idea of the Atlantic Union as then proposed, feeling that some of the propaganda for it was too transparent. The hegemony disguised thinly under a general organization would merely raise fears and new hysterical reactions from the other side. However, I failed to realize fully the immense importance of nuclear armament and the influence it would have on the course of world events. One bomb, I told myself, was equal to a thousandplane raid. Yet I did not realize that the power of each such bomb could be still vastly increased, and that it was possible to manufacture thousands of them. This realization came later. I felt no qualms about returning to the laboratory to contribute to further studies of the development of atomic bombs. I would describe myself as having taken a middle course between completely naive idealism and extreme jingoism. I followed my instincts (or perhaps lack of instincts) and was mainly interested in the scientific aspects of the work. The problems of nuclear physics were very interesting and led into new regions of physics and astrophysics. Perhaps I also felt that technological sequels to scientific discoveries were inevitable. Finally I trusted the ultimate good sense of humanity. The Atomic Energy Act, as finally adopted, was much more satisfactory than the initial proposals which would have left the developments of atomic energy under the sole and complete control of the military. Françoise felt more dubious morally on instinctive and emotional grounds. I always felt that it was unwise for the scientists to turn away from problems of technology. This could leave it in the hands of dangerous and fanatical reactionaries. On the other hand, the idea of merely multiplying the number of bombs to infinity made no sense whatsoever since a small fraction of the stockpile would be sufficient to destroy all population centers on the globe even if it was assumed that a majority of the missiles failed to reach their targets. I also did not believe that Russia would invade Western Europe. This was one of the supposed reasons for superrearmament. From the Russian point of view, it seemed to me there was no possible advantage. Seeing that even in Poland, the Russians had trouble maintaining the regime, I could not see any gain for them in making West Germany communistic. On the contrary, if all of Germany were reunited under communism, it would have presented a tremendous threat to Russia. A united communist Germany would inevitably have tried to become "boss" of the communist world.
Upon our return to Los Alamos, we were given a different wartime apartment and remained in it only a few months. Jack Calkin, who was still there, lived across the street. The Hawkinses were also quite near, but were preparing to leave soon. Our resumption of a more natural, if more Spartan mode of life was a refreshing change from the rather artificial Los Angeles atmosphere.
As it turned out, I had not quite recovered all my strength from the severe illness. During the first few weeks I was back, I became tired after working only two or three hours in my office. Fortunately, this disappeared gradually, and I began to feel normal again. Apart from everything else, this illness had been a financial catastrophe. It had left me with a debt of about five thousand dollars in spite of health insurance. When, in Los Angeles, it appeared that I might die or remain permanently disabled or diminished, several of our Los Alamos friends and even persons who were merely acquaintances lent money to Françoise. This touched us very deeply. I repaid them as fast as I could. The rest took several years.
At that time, Adam, my brother, was brilliantly concluding his studies at Harvard, and came to visit us in Los Alamos. I, who had been conditioned by the prewar scarcity of jobs, was pessimistic about his chances of finding one. When I asked him what his plans were, he answered, "I'll get an instructorship, of course." I felt dubious. He must have read the skepticism in the expression on my face, because I saw in his eyes that he took me for a pessimistic old dodo. He was right, because he immediately obtained an instructor's position at Harvard and has remained there ever since. He became an eminent professor of government, and is now director of the Center for Russian Studies. He is also a prolific and successful author of books on the history of communism. Among his best known are biographies of Lenin and Stalin.
Early in 1948 we had the opportunity to move to a wing of a house on "bathtub row" which had become vacant. We remained there until we left Los Alamos twenty years later. This was a group of some five or six houses which dated from the Los Alamos Ranch School days. They were the only houses with bathtubs — all the other structures had showers. During the war, these prize dwellings had been reserved for the director and other dignitaries. Fermi, Bethe, Weisskopf, and other important scientists had lived in the modest temporary wartime constructions.
This house was located directly across from the remodeled Lodge which served as the town's hotel for VIPs and official visitors. We benefited enormously from this proximity. All our friends and acquaintances visiting Los Alamos were only a few steps away. It was easy for them to visit for a drink, a casual meal, or an hour spent on our terrace. Françoise called our house the Lodge annex. On their frequent visits to Los Alamos, Johnny and Klari particularly liked living in a little cottage just next door to our yard. The informality of all these get-togethers contributed a great deal to the pleasantness of our life in Los Alamos. No end of scientific, political and personal conversations took place there. A whole book could be written about them.