The Australian Government assigned Howard Beale and his Department of Supply to oversee the development of the site by Kwinana Constructions, and the many administrative tasks associated with Maralinga. Beale was an enthusiastic servant of the project who exuded positivity from the start. ‘The country itself may be described as desert, but it is deserted rather than desert and is far from being a dreary waste of baking sand’, said his first memorandum on the project. This document described an Arcadian experience for the new workforce: ‘The prospect is tree-studded, park-like. New buildings will be shaded by the native timber, which will not be cut except in case of absolute necessity’. The experience of living there would be similar to conditions at the larger and more established British weapons testing base at Woomera to the east. Certainly the facilities were more luxurious than many military grunts might have experienced, although the hot desert conditions were destined to defeat many a Pom.
Creating Maralinga from nothing was a huge task. A village, airstrip, roads and other facilities rapidly appeared in the red desert landscape. The strange men-only village was in the southern part of the site, while the test area stretched northwards in a funnel shape. All the operational areas were well to the north, a series of ‘forward areas’ centred on colourfully named test sites. These names are evocative, if mostly inexplicable: Kuli, Biak, Tadje, Wewak, Dobo, Naya, Breakaway, Marcoo, One Tree, Kite and the most infamous, Taranaki. The 3.5-kilometre-long airstrip was a few kilometres to the east of the village. The roads to the north took on a Big Apple hue with Second Avenue, Fifth Avenue, Tenth Avenue, East Street and West Street, and they created a large grid across the massive swathes of Maralinga test site land. The village street names reminded many occupants of home: London Road, Durham Crescent, Belfast Street.
The site was managed by the Maralinga Board of Management, a joint UK–Australian organisation chaired by Frank O’Connor, with a senior British public servant from the UK Ministry of Supply Staff Australia as his deputy. The range commander, Australian Army lieutenant-colonel Richard (Dick) Durance, was directly responsible through the Maralinga Board of Management to a huge array of interested parties, including the joint chiefs of staff of the Australian military and the heads of both the Australian Department of Supply and the UK Ministry of Supply. He was also responsible to Penney, or his delegate. Radiological safety was the specific responsibility of the AWRE, which based a senior health physics officer on site. Australia placed its own health physics representative on site too, namely Harry Turner, seconded from the Australian Atomic Energy Commission. Turner was required to collect data about the radiological safety of the site and oversee safety matters at the range, although in the early 1960s he was specifically excluded from the Vixen B tests, the most dangerous experiments undertaken. Access to Vixen B was granted only to British personnel.
During the years the Maralinga site was active, a total of about 35 000 military personnel spent time there. Most (about 25 000) were from the UK, bolstered by a smaller contingent of Australians and occasional attachments of military personnel from Canada, the US and New Zealand. All were male and physically fit and most were young. A significant number of the British and Australian personnel were doing National Service. The village built to accommodate people working at the site included a number of facilities intended to encourage camaraderie, such as a swimming pool, playing fields and a theatre. By the range commander’s account, it was a place of high morale: ‘Considering the isolation of the area, the very trying climatic conditions for part of the year, and the diversity of the groups that make up the population, morale has been, and continues to be, remarkably high. Much of this is due to the good ration scale, basic amenities provided, and the financial gain made by the majority serving in the area’.
Maralinga had been used for the 1955 Kittens tests and other non-nuclear tests, but the first major trial was Operation Buffalo, the longest series of major trials held in Australia. By this time, Penney had handed over day-to-day control of the Australian test program to his deputy William Cook, but for Buffalo he took the helm again himself. The series, held in September and October 1956, consisted of four atomic bombs, detonated in three different ways. Buffalo 1 and 4 were detonated from towers on the ground, while Buffalo 3 was dropped from an aircraft. Buffalo 2 was exploded at ground level, the only ground-level detonation in Australia, with its concomitant risks. The other major trial at Maralinga was Operation Antler in September and October 1957 which involved three bomb firings (two on towers and one from tethered balloons). After that an international moratorium on tests, and a revived relationship between the UK and the US, put an end to mushroom clouds tests in Australia.
Nothing says ‘Maralinga’ more than the startling image of a billowing atomic cloud rising from the desert plain. Buffalo 1 sent up the first mushroom cloud over Maralinga. While mushroom clouds are particularly associated with atomic weaponry, any large explosion will produce the same effect, though most non-nuclear explosions don’t come close to the power of an atomic bomb. Natural events like volcanic eruptions can also cause these distinctive clouds, although, of course, non-nuclear explosions tend not to be radioactive. In contrast, the detonation of an atomic device instantly creates a burst of intense gamma and neutron radiation. The cloud of an atomic explosion is filled with radioactive particles, the products of the fission process when the atoms are wrenched apart. These particles roil and swirl with the ground debris, all sucked upwards as the cloud interacts with the atmosphere. The blast also sends out a pressure or shock wave, which can cause damage to anyone or anything in the vicinity.
The height of a mushroom cloud is governed by the energy of the explosion and the atmospheric conditions at the time of the detonation. The mushroom shape forms about 10 minutes after detonation and may last for up to an hour. However, even when it has disappeared, radioactive particles remain in the atmosphere, blown by the wind and depositing fallout along the way. Fallout literally falls out of the sky. The fallout from the Maralinga mushroom clouds spread far and wide, depending upon the winds, the explosive yield and the method of detonation. The airburst test at Maralinga, Buffalo 3, produced less fallout because it drew up less material from the ground into the cloud. The yield from the Maralinga tests was far less than that from Mosaic G2, but it was still substantial, and it travelled the airways north and east.
Penney arrived at the site on 24 August 1956 and set the date for the first major test around 12 September, with the whole site to go on stand-by the day before. Rehearsals and other necessary activities got underway in earnest. Little did anyone know how protracted the wait would be. Day after day, the meteorological conditions were unsuitable. Day after day, scientists, journalists and politicians, invested in their different ways in the first Maralinga test, had to be patient. It was not easy. Questions in federal parliament and mocking stories in newspapers created uncertainty about the suitability of the site and the safety of nuclear weapons tests.