This Is Only a Test: How Washington, D.C. Prepared for Nuclear War (review)

In the United States during the late 1940s a number of factors converged to raise an awareness of civil defense to a level not seen in earlier years. Americans were well aware of specific events of the war just concluded: Londoners taking shelter underground during the Blitz, the surprise attack on Pearl Harbor, and above all, the destruction of Hiroshima and Nagasaki by atomic bombs. The rapid deterioration of relations with the Soviet Union after 1945 added to a fear that U.S. cities, and especially the capital, were vulnerable. Now, David F. Krugler chronicles attempts to deal with that fear, beginning with the onset of the cold war, through the Cuban missile crisis of 1962, and ending with the terrorist attacks of September 11, 2001. An associate professor of history at the University of Wisconsin, Platteville, Krugler has combed archival and secondary sources to produce a detailed and nuanced story of a fascinating and perhaps unique intersection of politics, culture, technology, race relations, and psychology in cold war America.

Civil defense in Washington, D.C., always seemed to be one step behind events. A network of aircraft spotters was established just as ballistic missiles became a threat. Plans to survive the dropping of an atomic bomb were rendered obsolete by the development of much more powerful hydrogen bombs. Civil defense planners wanted to disperse the top echelon of government officials, but they could not decide how far out one needed to go, who would be among those schosen to be evacuated, how the chosen would be notified of an evacuation order, and how those not chosen would be prevented from following the elite out of town. Of the many fine illustrations in the book, one stands out: a sign on the median of a local highway telling Washingtonians that in the event of a threatened attack, they were to stay off the road and let those more privileged get out of town first. Did anyone believe that citizens would obey this sign?

Statements by government officials that they would refuse to go anywhere without their families had little effect on the planning process. Neither did the political reality that most senators and congressmen campaigned—and still campaign—on a platform to clean up the "mess" in Washington. It would have been political suicide if they were perceived as trying to save the lives of federal bureaucrats while neglecting their own hard-working, patriotic constituencies at home. If that were not sufficient to confound the civil defense planners, there was also the presence in Washington of a large population of African Americans, and Washington was very much a segregated southern city. Krugler points out that in the 1950s many whites were already leaving Washington for social reasons, not because of the threat of an atomic attack. Another telling photo shows Lorenzo Miller, armed with a pair of binoculars, scanning the sky for unidentified aircraft. Miller was one of the first to volunteer for "Operation Skywatch," in 1952. If he had spotted a Soviet bomber, would he and other black Washingtonians be afforded the same opportunity for shelter or evacuation as the whites? Other ironies abounded: a bunker was excavated underneath Fort Reno, built during the Civil War to protect Washington from the Confederate armies. While the president and Congress were to evacuate to secure bunkers deep under the Appalachians, Supreme Court justices were to go to the modest and unassuming Grove Park Inn in scenic Asheville, North Carolina, where they would remain aboveground—and probably mingle with other guests.

Overshadowing all planning was the realization that a Soviet ballistic missile, whose journey from launch to target might take fifteen minutes, would probably obliterate the city and all its inhabitants without warning. The absurdities of any plans were evident all along, but no one knew what to do other than make an effort to defend the city and the government...