Perhaps no aircraft in history has been as controversial, intriguing, and morally provoking as the Enola Gay, the B-29 Superfortress that released the first nuclear bomb on Hiroshima. One flight ended World War II in the Pacific but also brought about the nuclear age—a moment which still incites disagreement among historians, veterans, and the public at large.
The Enola Gay was anything but a typical bomber when it rolled off the assembly line in 1945. It was one of the “Silverplate” program, a small squadron of specially designed B-29s constructed specifically to deliver the enormous and record-breaking atomic bomb. To ensure it was light and quick enough for the mission, engineers stripped most of its defensive armor, removed turrets, and retained only a tail gun. Each alteration was intentional, all to prepare the plane for its historic payload, Little Boy, which weighed over 10,000 pounds.
Initially known only as plane No. 82, the bomber was given its historic name the evening before the mission. Colonel Paul Tibbets, commander of the 509th Composite Group, decided to name the plane for his mother, Enola Gay Tibbets, by painting her name on the fuselage. The men had trained in secret for months, working with “pumpkin bombs” that were meant to simulate the weight and flight patterns of the atomic bomb.
For President Harry Truman, ordering the bombing was a painful choice. The war in the Pacific had raged on with appalling losses on both sides, and military strategists estimated ruinous losses if Japan were invaded. A demonstration of the weapon could fail, and officials dreaded that it would not lead to surrender. In the end, they opted for a straight-on attack as the fastest way to bring the war to an end.
On August 6, 1945, in the morning, Tibbets and his crew left Tinian Island. At 8:15 a.m., they were above Hiroshima. Bombardier Thomas Ferebee dropped Little Boy, which detonated approximately 2,000 feet above the city with an energy equivalent to 15,000 tons of TNT.
The effect was catastrophic. Hiroshima was largely destroyed in an instant. At the center of the blast, temperatures reached over 5,000 degrees Fahrenheit, and tens of thousands were killed instantly. Radiation in the subsequent days and weeks took countless others. Miles away, the crew of the Enola Gay witnessed in stunned silence the massive mushroom cloud unfold—knowing that they had released a weapon unprecedented in human history.
Three days after Hiroshima, the second atomic bomb exploded in Nagasaki. Japan surrendered on August 15, marking the end of the most lethal war in human history. Even in triumph, the bombings raised serious moral issues that continue to this day.
Some Americans, including servicemen, thought the bombings saved millions by keeping an invasion from happening. Others thought it was excessive, cruel, and unjustifiable to target entire cities then—and continue to do so.
Following the war, the Enola Gay was kept in storage, largely forgotten for decades. It wasn’t until the 1990s that it was carefully restored and put on view at the Smithsonian’s National Air and Space Museum. Even then, its display created controversy. Curators initially wished to provide a larger context, including Japanese experiences and the devastation inflicted, but political opposition and opposition from veterans limited the display to the aircraft itself.
Today, the Enola Gay continues to stir strong emotions. To some, it symbolizes technological accomplishment and the speedy termination of a savage war. To others, it is a grim reminder of the human price of war. In its aerodynamic aluminum body, individuals view both pride and grief, victory and tragedy.
Greater than a piece of history, the Enola Gay represents the multifaceted marriage between innovation and devastation. It forces every generation to redefine what it means to win and to reflect that peace—no matter the cost—comes with a heavy and enduring cost.