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In a small one-bedroom apartment in Clearwater, Florida,
93-year-old Russell Gackenbach sat on his floral patterned
sofa thumbing through a photo album containing original
prints of some of the most iconic people and events in
United States military history.
“This is me and
Tibbets (Col. Paul Tibbets, pilot of the Enola Gay),”
Gackenbach said, as he pointed to two U.S. Army Air Force
officers standing next to one another. “This was me and
Necessary Evil, the plane I flew on as we dropped the bomb
on Hiroshima (Japan).”
As if it were yesterday,
Gackenbach joined story to photo and name to face. Though 70
years had passed, the vivid details of his tale and the
sincere expression in his voice showed that each of those
people and moments were near to his heart.
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September 13, 2016 - Russell Gackenbach was the navigator aboard
the B-29, Necessary Evil, one of three Superfortresses that flew the
atomic bomb mission over Hiroshima, Japan on August 6, 1945.
Gackenbach, whose duties included documenting the event with his
camera, is the last surviving member of the mission. (U.S. Air Force
photo by Master Sgt. Brian Ferguson)
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Gackenbach was a second lieutenant, aircraft navigator and
photographer who flew into the heart of Japan on Aug. 6,
1945, where “Little Boy”, a 9,000-pound uranium-235 atomic
bomb was dropped on Hiroshima. Unbeknownst to him at the
time, the mission signified the first time a nuclear device
had been used in warfare.
Before “The Bomb”
Upon graduating from Allentown High School, Pennsylvania in
1941, Gackenbach prophetically took a job at the Bethlehem
Steel Company as an inspector of bombs and shell casings for
the military. A short while later, 20-year-old Gackenbach
decided to follow his childhood dream of becoming a pilot
and enlisted in the U.S. Army Air Corps.
“I was
originally classified for training as a pilot; however,
during school I was unable to conduct my solo flight in the
allotted time and was eventually ‘washed out' of the
program,” said Gackenbach. “Then, I was sent to navigation
school where I earned my wings and my commission.”
After earning his navigator certification and completing the
radar operators coarse in Boca Rotan, Florida, Gackenbach
was shipped off to Wendover, Utah. There, just seven months
after receiving his commission, young Gackenbach embarked on
an unimaginable journey, one that would change the course of
history.
“In September of ‘44, we were approached by
an unfamiliar colonel who stressed that he was ‘forming an
elite group that was to be made up from the best in the Air
Corps,'” said Gackenbach. “The missions were to be dangerous
and if anyone was not able to deal with the secrecy of the
group, they may leave.”
Honored by the recognition
and intrigued by the opportunity, Gackenbach accepted
without hesitation.
Shortly thereafter, Gackenbach
and his crew came face to face with Tibbets for the first
time; it was then, they finally got a glimpse of what the
mission would entail.
“Tibbets came over to us and
said ‘there is a new bomb under construction and, if
successful, it will shorten the war,'” recalled Gackenbach.
“He was not able to tell us exactly what it was or any more
details about it. He informed us that we were going to be
under tight security, our movements would be limited, and we
need to learn to keep our mouths shut.
“Before he
left he pointed to a sign posted up on the outside of the
gate, which read ‘what you see here, when you leave here,
let it stay here' –and he meant that.”
Preparing for
the unknown
The newly formed crews spent day in and
day out transitioning from the B-17 Flying Fortress to 15
mission specific B-29 Superfortresses modified to
accommodate the new atomic bombs.
From September 1944
to April 1945 they trained tirelessly out of Wendover Field;
until, in May, they packed up their operation and
transitioned to the island of Tinian in the Marianas.
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Russell Gackenbach, back center, was the navigator aboard the
B-29 Superfortress, Necessary Evil, and is the last surviving member
of the three crews that flew the atomic bomb mission over Hiroshima,
Japan on August 6, 1945. He is pictured with the Necessary Evil crew
during training at Wendover Field, Utah in December 1944. (Photo
courtesy of Russell Gackenbach)
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The island was secured by the 4th Marine Division Aug.
1, 1944, after a bloody campaign to wrest control from 9,000
Japanese soldiers.
Tinian, along with the
neighboring islands of Saipan and Guam, was now home to the
20th U.S. Army Air Force and, after 15,000 Seabees built six
7,900-foot runways to accommodate the B-29.
“The
transition to the Marianas put us about seven and a half
hours away from Japan; although we were in a new location,
we trained the exact same way had been doing in the states,”
said Gackenbach. “Our only focus was to follow orders and
polish our skillset for what we were told was to be ‘a
perfect mission.'”
The group trained for nearly a
year, dropping what they called “pumpkins;” inert test bombs
built by a special ordinance group, the 216th AAF Base Unit.
The inert bombs were dropped by B-29s during training to
furnish information on ballistics, electrical fusing and
detonators, release mechanisms, and the effect on the flying
characteristics of the aircraft.
Preparation
missions continued through Aug. 5, 1945, the day prior to
the dropping of the first atomic bomb.
New
weapon, new mission, new world
On Aug. 5th, the
crews scheduled for the bombing mission were called in. Upon
arrival, they were searched, told to empty their pockets and
proceed to the briefing room. At the briefing, they were
given only the information needed for the flight—route,
targets and individual job assignments.
“We did
not know what type of bomb we had; did not know what type of
blast to expect; did not know the effect of it,” said
Gackenbach. “The only thing we were told was, 'don't fly
through the cloud.'”
The following morning, the
assigned crews huddled for a last minute special mission
brief; they finalized details and a grabbed a quick
breakfast. Then, around 3 a.m., three B-29s, the Enola Gay,
the Great Artiste, and the Necessary Evil, took off for
Japan's southern coast.
“As we approached Hiroshima
on Aug. 6, 1945, the Enola Gay and The Great Artiste went
forward, as we stayed behind and did a looping 360 degree
turn,” recounted Gackenbach. “When we came out of the turn,
the radios went dead; and when the radio went dead, we were
alerted, ‘bomb bay doors open, bombs away.'”
Immediately, the Enola Gay and The Great Artiste made diving
turns to the right, to get as far away from the bomb as they
could. Gackenbach and the Necessary Evil, lagged behind the
first two aircraft and the bomb exploded directly in front
of them. As a huge mushroom-shaped cloud boiled skyward,
Gackenbach raised a camera to his eye and triggered the
shutter.
“The delay between our aircraft was planned;
we were to document the event,” said Gackenbach. “The
photographs seen around the world were ones I had taken
approximately one minute after detonation, at a height of
30,000 feet, roughly 16 miles from the city.”
From
the first training flights to their arrival over the target,
the crews knew that this was no ordinary bombing mission,
but nothing prepared them for what they witnessed 47 seconds
after the call of “bombs away”.
“We were awestruck;
we didn't know what to say, or do, or anything. We made
three turns around the cloud and headed home to Tinian,”
said Gackenbach. “I did not hear the word atomic until the
next day.”
The magnitude of the event was not evident
to the crews until days later, when they were shown
photographs of Hiroshima--that is when they truly understood
the devastating effect of the weapon they had deployed.
“We never really talked about what we did—I stayed mute
for a very long time. Even during our reunions, we only
talked about each other and the time we spent together,”
said Gackenbach.
Military planners had already
scheduled Operation Olympic, the invasion of the Japanese
home island of Kyushu, for Nov. 1, 1945. It would be
followed by the invasion of the main Japanese island of
Honshu in 1946.
Given the unprecedented American
losses during the battle for Okinawa that spring -- one
third of the invasion force was killed, wounded or missing
-- U.S. government casualty estimates for an invasion of the
Japanese home islands were 1 million American dead and
wounded.
Instead, the atomic bomb missions, to
Hiroshima and Nagasaki on Aug. 9, led to Japan's
unconditional surrender on Aug. 14, 1945 and the end of
World War II.
“Looking back at the event 70 years
later, I still believe the right decision was made and I
think that President Truman knew that as well. Can you
imagine if people found out we had a device that would save
millions of lives and did not use it? He would have been in
a peck of trouble,” Gackenbach said.
To this day,
Gackenbach, the lone-surviving member from the first atomic
bombing, travels from school to school, city to city,
shaking hands and giving his firsthand account of one of the
most defining moments in U.S. military history.
When
asked if he would do things differently, he responds with a
stoic: “I do not regret the part I played in it; it was the
right decision.”
See related video
By U.S. Air Force Tech. Sgt. Brandon Shapiro
Provided
through DVIDS
Copyright 2017
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