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Camp Desert Rock, outside of Las Vegas, Nevada. (public domain photo from wikipedia)

I heard the newscast at 7:30 that morning that said, first thing, that all the troops were safe.

On March 17, 1953, Mom did not attend that atomic blast in Nevada, where our dad (Thorgel) was stationed at Camp Desert Rock. Here’s content from the letter she write to her sister about that day:

Thursday, March 19, 1953

Dear Marion and all:

We received your nice and most welcome letter today, and it was quite a coincidence, your telling about Marilyn Gulberg saying that she saw Thorgel in the trench at the atom bomb explosion, because it is very likely that she did. He was one of the company that occupied the forward trenches—in fact, only one trench was closer to the explosion than his. It must have been a terrific thing—he was sort of crouched down, trying to support himself against the side of the trench, and after the explosion he said the earth just rocked underneath him, so that he had the sensation of being in a boat with high waves rocking it from one side to the other. They felt a tremendous blast of heat, and scorching hot sand sifted in on them. A lot of fellows were right down in the bottom of the trench, but Thorgel said he thought if the trench caved in on them from the force of the explosion, he didn’t want to be right where it would cover him completely, so he merely assumed a crouching stance. The back of his neck was sore, and looked as if he’d been exposed to a bad sunburn, which was actually about what happened. I was surely apprehensive, until after I heard the newscast at 7:30 that morning that said, first thing, that all the troops were safe.

[Mom doesn’t write this here, but I remember Thorgel telling _me_ many years later that the flash was so bright he could see the skeleton of the guy standing in front of him, almost like a muted x-ray.]

My own part as a watcher didn’t amount to much, for the following reason: I’d been up almost all night, off and on, with Kathy, who had been coughing and very restless. I was up at a quarter of five and turned off my alarm, so that it wouldn’t wake her, because she was finally asleep, and I guess that I was so exhausted I fell asleep myself—when I woke up it was past time for the blast, and I was _so_ disgusted, especially as I knew  Thorgel would be anxiously waiting to hear what we saw and heard from here. However, Mrs. Pruter was just going outside as the explosion went off and she said it was not so terribly loud; she didn’t think it was as loud as last year’s. However, I understand that there will be other blasts soon, perhaps bigger than the one that the news and TV cameras photographed, and I am certainly going to be awake then, if I have to stay up all night. When they shoot the atomic cannon, as they say in the paper may be May 2nd, I want to hear what I can of it.

Thorgel was surely tired and hungry when he got home. He had had his breakfast at 11:00 p.m. the night before the blast, and no sleep at all that night, as they had to assemble in the trucks, etc., and drive about 50 miles from Desert Rock to the area where the explosion took place. They had to have formation there, or whatever they call it, about 3:30, and have everything in readiness for any last minute instructions. He got home about 2 in the afternoon of the 17th, and had something to eat and went to bed, just about exhausted. All of the men were tested for the radiation they were exposed to, and Thorgel and most of them tested 1.5—it seems as if they had tested as much as 3, they would have been hospitalized, or otherwise treated for it.

Things here in Vegas have certainly been jumping the day or so before the blast, as you can imagine. I think everybody kind of heaved a sigh of relief when it was over.

Today we are having another awful dust and wind storm. I’ll be glad when it is over. Kathy and I haven’t been out for two days, and I won’t let her out until it is all over.

[She goes on with more, but this is all that related to the atomic blast, in this letter.]