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In the year 1945, a few powerful American leaders decided it was alright for them to play God. Taking the initiative to create a weapon of mass destruction, not exceeded still today, or even closely matched. The only thing even remotely close was the Asteroid that struck Earth millions of years ago, sealing the Dinosaurs fate. Immediately upon completion, and after at least a few tests, the righteous American President gave orders to twelve members of the Air Force: Cross the Pacific Ocean, and deliver this device to the nation opposing us, the nation we are at war with, the nation of Japan!  

High above Earth, the "Enola Gay" soared silently through Japanese airspace, completely unnoticed; while the citizens below carried on with their lives, unaware of the threat from above. Upon reaching a pre-determined location, a crew member pushed that little red button, putting in motion a sequence of automated death and destruction. For the following sixty seconds, the plane, previously silent, buzzed with the sound of a machine's gears. At that exact moment, in Hiroshima, a society steeped in tradition, performs the tasks and duties unchanged for over a thousand years. At the conclusion of the countdown, the plane's port doors opened wide, and discharged America's solution to another long and drawn out World War. 

In Earth's shortest forty-three seconds, Enola Gay's pilot raced to distance himself from the drop zone. And, exactly forty-four seconds after its release, America's "Little Boy" hit his target, performing perfectly, and instantly detonating. The resulting mushroom cloud was confirmation to the crew of their mission's success. The effects, both instant and long term, were felt by both parties involved, albeit unequally. Twelve Air Force veterans were now and forever changed by their involvement in this Atrocity. Forever stuck carrying their guilt's heavy burden for the remainder of their lives.
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