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Ogle is a lively man who loves western clothes, detests neckties and big cities, and barely tolerates strangers. "Nature's a lot easier to grasp, because you can take a specific natural law and be sure it'll repeat itself—not so with people." He excels at his unusual specialty because he thinks straight, argues his points forcefully, easily bridges the gap from the theoretical problem to its technical solution. Says a colleague: "His particular talent is to function essentially as a science chairman—hear all the arguments, draw conclusions. His being attached to any experiment increases the odds on its success. People have confidence in him." Ogle's fascination with the bomb is shared by others of his breed. Says his friend, Physicist Goad: "It is such a great phenomenon, so far outside the field of human experience, that it remains awesome." These men are tough-minded about their jobs, yet not insensitive to its portents for civilization if misused. Says Los Alamos Physicist George Cowan: "I think there is more honest-to-God worrying on this hill than you ever find among the bleeding hearts outside. But there aren't too many scientists around who know how to do this job—so you do it, and do it as best you can." Adds Ogle: "This is a frighteningly dangerous world we live in—it's scary." Yet he is less nervous about nuclear testing than about the frequent air travels his job requires: his palms turn moist every time he takes off in an airplane.
The Clincher. The long moratorium was cynically prolonged when Soviet delegates at Geneva first agreed to the principle of inspection, even indicated willingness to permit on-site inspection stations, then retreated to their no-inspection stand. Meanwhile, U.S. nuclear strength clearly suffered. The nation was gambling its whole deterrent posture and billions of dollars on its Polaris, Minuteman and advanced Titan missiles. Theoretically, scientists were certain that these missiles' nuclear warheads would work—yet the complete systems had never been tried.
Thus, even before the Russians broke the moratorium, pressure was being exerted on President Kennedy by some scientists and Pentagon officials for a resumption of U.S. testing. They argued that the Reds probably were cheating anyway. After Soviet skies erupted in a scattershot array of 50 blasts last September and October, there could be no real doubt about what the U.S. would have to do.
The first analysis of the Soviet tests was not alarming, despite its fearsome megatomics and Nikita Khrushchev's boastful threats. Outside the Administration, some of the old voices were still crying against a resumption of U.S. atmospheric testing. Kennedy was then also getting go-slow counsel from his scientific adviser, M.I.T.'s Jerome Wiesner. The President immediately ordered underground testing to resume in longstanding tunnels in Nevada and, on Nov. 2, ordered preparations for atmospheric tests to proceed.