Hero of Los Alamos

The first peacetime victim of nuclear fission died last week. He was Dr. Louis Slotin of Winnipeg, Canada and the atom bomb laboratory at Los Alamos, New Mexico, the cause of his death--exposure to radiation--may become a familiar factor in the atomic age.

Apparently Dr. Slotin and seven or more other scientists were working with "subcritical masses" of uranium or plutonium. Kept apart, these masses were lifeless as lead, but if brought together to form a mass above "critical" size, a chain reaction would start. Its violence would depend on the character of the materials. Probably they were midway in activity between mild-mannered natural uranium and furious plutonium 239.

Bringing such "reactors" together is touchy business. The scientists work with infinite caution, watching instruments which measure the number of free neutrons within the experimental mass. Under some conditions, the chain reaction starts slowly. But sometimes it leaps into violence in a millionth of a second. There is no explosion, no vibration, no sound. No human sense can detect the outburst of deadly radiation. The only warning, which comes too late, is a faint bluish glow. Some experts think it is caused by ionization of the air; others believe it to be an optical illusion telegraphed to the brain by stimulated nerves behind the eyes.

Perhaps Dr. Slotin was watching the warning instruments more carefully than his fellows; perhaps he saw the bluish glow. At any rate, he realized that the chain reaction had spurted to high intensity. The room was being swept with deadly radiation. He leaped forward, put his body between his colleagues and the radiating mass, scattered its materials. The chain reaction halted immediately.

Then Dr. Slotin was taken to the hospital, where, nine days later, he died of the peculiar and imperfectly understood burns produced by radiation. Seven coworkers, less seriously injured, hoped to recover.

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