Robert Oppenheimer was nervous.

Tens of thousands of people, millions of dollars, two years of effort, all came down to this

test.

And it wasn't looking good.

For one thing, a last-minute test of the implosion device, the mechanism for starting

the world's first nuclear bomb, hadn't worked.

And to further dampen everyone's sinking spirits, an enormous thunderstorm was now rolling through New Mexico.

Rain and lightning each presented risks.

It also made living conditions miserable.

The Trinity test site was little more than a camp, and Oppenheimer coughed all night as the rain beat down on his tent.

To calm himself, he read a passage from the Hindu book of scripture the Gita.

In battle, in forest, at the precipice in the mountains, on the dark great sea in the midst of javelins and arrows,

in sleep in confusion, in the depths of shame, the good deeds a man has done before defend him.

The next morning, the skies cleared, but the wind picked up. The weather is whimsical,

Oppenheimer commented. Alone, he drove to the site for one last inspection, and one last moment alone

with his grand creation. It was an awkward looking thing, studded with wires and plugs.

It was the result of countless hours of work from the greatest minds in the world.

An unparalleled creation.

Perhaps nothing in the history of the world had had more genius poured into it than the device now before his eyes.

When he drove back to the base, someone suggested a postponement.

The weather was still finicky.

If we postpone, Oppenheimer said,

...