Once the United States got (somewhat belatedly) engaged in World War II, it quickly became apparent that some Weapon of Mass Destruction [Did they really use that phrase, then? Ed.] would be needed to vanquish the treacherous Japanese. In 1942 the atomic bomb was barely a notion, so other options were considered.
The specs called for something that would inflict lots of damage on the Japanese home islands without loss of too many American lives. Dr. Lytle Adams, a Pennsylvania dentist, came up with an idea, perhaps while inhaling a bit of laughing gas. Bat bombs! Of course!!!
The experimental weapon consisted of a bomb-shaped casing with numerous compartments, each containing a Mexican Free-tailed Bat. (No, Walt doesn't know why they're called that.) Each bat would have a one-ounce timed incendiary bomb strapped to its wee chest. Dropped from a bomber at dawn, the casings would deploy a parachute in mid-flight and open to release the bats which would then land in the eaves and attics of Japanese buildings.
When the bats tried to fly away, they would chew through the straps so as to lighten their load for takeoff. The incendiaries would thus be ignited, starting fires in inaccessible places in the flimsy wood and paper construction of the Japanese cities. [Are you sure this wasn't actually Dr. Rube Goldberg? Ed.]
No, Walt is not making this up. But wait, it gets better... Dr. Adams happened to be a friend of Eleanor Roosevelt, who submitted to her husband the President, who approved it personally. So the US military-industrial complex [Did they really use that phrase, then? Ed.] went into action.
After two years spent on research -- not to mention rounding up a couple of million of the critters -- the US Army tested the bat bombs in New Mexico. During the testing, several bats escaped, setting fire to a large aircraft hangar and a fuel tank.
The Army cleverly handed the bat bomb project over to the Navy, which named it Project X-ray and passed the buck -- the bats, actually -- to the Marine Corps. Some military genius decided the trick was to freeze the bats into hibernation before dropping them out of the bombers. In another test run, the frozen bats remained asleep and augured into the desert sands without setting off so much as a spark.
More tests were scheduled for the summer of 1944 but the programme was cancelled by Fleet Admiral Ernest J. King when he was told the bat bomb would likely not be combat ready until mid-1945. By that time it was estimated that $2 million had been spent on Project X-ray, afterwards referred to by Dr. Stanley P. Lovell, director of the Office of Strategic Services as "Die Fledermaus Farce".
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