Victoria Park and its strange collection of Z-Batteries would not be spared. Those rockets were again whooshing into the sky, in a fruitless search for this single bomb after being stirred to arms by the fall of those parachute mines. One hit the rail line near Old Bethnal Green Road; another fell on Weaver’s Fields. A third fell on Queen Mary’s University, rattling the iconic clock tower there.
And then the bomb delivered by Fafnir fell, right over Victoria Park where Peter Waller had just stomped out that cigarette and was making his way home.
He would never get there.
It was a tiny warhead by design, the American W25, which had originally been developed by the Los Alamos Scientific laboratory as an air defense weapon to be used against squadrons of enemy bombers. It was so small and light, just 210 pounds, that it was designed to be mounted on an air launched missile carried by a fighter. That made it an idea candidate for the little experiment that was to be conducted in the South Atlantic by the Norton Sound, testing the effects of a high altitude nuclear detonation. It was just large enough to produce data, but not big enough to produce widespread undesirable effects.
It was only a tenth the size of the bomb the Americans would deliver to Hiroshima in one history, which was 15 kilotons. The bomb Fafnir delivered was only 1.7 kilotons, but it was enough to test the weapon and determine its effects. The radius of the fireball when it ignited was just 250 feet, detonating a little over 300 feet from the ground. At that altitude, it delivered an air blast of 20psi to a diameter of about 1,100 feet. Had it struck in a built up area, it would have been enough to severely damage even strong concrete buildings, but in this case, it served to merely flatten and completely destroy those Z-batteries that had been firing so fitfully.
The thermal radiation extended out 2,500 feet, spanning the whole length and width of Victoria Park, burning every tree, and delivering third degree burns to anyone exposed. Beyond that, the air blast was still as strong as 5psi, three quarters of a mile from the center, which was enough to devastate most residential dwellings. The destruction extended as far as Cassland and Wick Roads to the north of the park, and everything between Old Ford Road and the rail lines near Malmesbury road to the south. Through that entire zone, anyone who survived the blast would receive 500 rems of radiation, with a fatality rate between 50% and 90%.
That night, anyone who took the chance again when the sirens first sounded, and made it into the Tube at Bethnal Green, was alive and safe. Because of the disaster earlier, many tried to look for other shelter, and remained in the blast zone. So it was that the errant stumble of a little girl on the steps would lead to the death of so many more, who otherwise might have been safely tucked away in the underground Tube that night.
In modern days, as many as 23,000 might have been killed by that blast, and another 81,500 injured, but London was not so heavily populated in 1943, and the years of bombing had seen many move out of the city. As it was, another 1,217 would die that night, with over 2000 more injured.
The disaster at Bethnal Green quickly gave up its dark laurels as the single worst loss of civilian life in the UK during the war. In one fell stroke, Fafnir had trumped all other attacks, and then some. The bomb worked! The world it fell into would now never be the same, and fear would stalk the land in every quarter.
In spite of every effort to hide the effects of the attack from the general public, and the world, information would leak out as to what had happened. Thousands had seen the fireball ignite, all over London, a small second sunrise. Their murmured, fearful whispers spoke of a terrible new German bomb that could come completely unseen in the night, and consume entire neighborhoods. It was but a shadow of what this weapon would eventually grow to be, where the US and Russia would compete with one another to test larger and larger weapons yields, hammering at the increasingly fragile meridians of time.
While not so great in actual raw damage, the attack drained the blood from faces all throughout Whitehall, the Admiralty, and every nerve and command center of the British government. What had fallen on them? How was it delivered? How many such weapons did the enemy have? When would the next bomb fall? London was never the same after Fafnir’s visit, and hearing the news of the attack in far off North Africa, Churchill made a grim and hasty flight over the Dark Continent, hopping from one small British held airfield to the next until he again reached Gibraltar. From there he flew on to Lisbon before boarding a bomber for the final leg home, his thoughts beset with a legion of angry demons.
Part V
Steel Veins
“Let me tell you something that we Israelis have against Moses. He took us 40 years through the desert in order to bring us to the one spot in the Middle East that has no oil.”
Chapter 13
Iraq had been a nominal British Protectorate since order was restored in 1941. At that time, the focus of a little rebellion by Rashid-Ali had been at the British airfield at Habbaniyah. In that action, Fedorov, Troyak, and the Russian Marines along with Argonauts provided by the Fairchild group, had served to rescue the beleaguered outpost until Brigadier Kingstone could arrive with Kingcol, a light armored and infantry force that had formed the nucleus of the unit he still commanded.
Once secured, Iraq settled down to the typical squabbling among various tribes. Britain sent four Indian Infantry Divisions, and plans were being laid to also secure Iran, though they were never put into motion when the first German incursion into Syria occurred. Now, with this new incursion, Great Britain was regretting that it did not see to the military question concerning Iran.
“The Iranian Army is substantial,” said Auchinlek, arriving late to the strategy session underway in Damascus with Alexander. Technically, all of what was once called Mesopotamia and Persia was Auchinlek’s watch, while Alexander held down Libya, Egypt Palestine and Syria. “On paper they approach 200,000 men, with light artillery and even tanks.”
“They have armor?” Alexander was surprised to hear this. “Certainly nothing modern enough to bother us.”
“They made a purchase of about 50 French FT-17’s, some with the 37mm gun, others with only Machineguns. And they also bought another 50 Panzer 38’s from the Germans, with whom they have become quite cozy now. When we lost Turkey, we also lost the good will of Iran, and they’ve been mobilizing.”
“Are you suggesting they might attempt a military intervention to support the Germans?”
“We can’t dismiss the possibility. This is why it is imperative that we get our 2nd Infantry Division to Basra immediately, and frankly, we should seriously consider securing Abadan. To hell with Iranian neutrality. Those facilities are very valuable to the Crown, and the Iranians could turn off the tap on a whim.”
“Agreed,” said Alexander, “but if we do this, won’t that simply invite their interference all along the border?”
“It might,” said Auchinlek. “And in the short run we shall have to rely on our Levy Battalions to screen that frontier. The bulk of the Iranian military will be down south near Abadan, but they’ll have divisions at Ahwaz, Dezful, and Kermanshah.”
“A bit of a mess,” said Jumbo Wilson. “The Levy Battalions can buy us some time, but I think it will take British regulars to settle the matter. A lot will be riding on the back of Grover’s 2nd Division, and if it’s tied up down south, then we’ll have to hold Baghdad as best we can with the Indian Divisions.”