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 talking today about bat bombs.
Yes—bats and bombs. And no, this isn’t science fiction. This was an actual U.S. military concept during World War II.

In the early years of the war, the United States opened the door to civilian innovation. Anyone could submit ideas to the War Department for new ways to help win the war. Some ideas were brilliant but went unused—often because they didn’t appeal to military brass or clashed with conventional thinking. One of the most fascinating of these? The bat bomb.

Here’s how it worked:

Bats, when cooled, go into hibernation. You can attach a small incendiary device—roughly six ounces—to their legs. The bats are then stored in containers and transported by balloon or airplane. When released over an enemy city during the early morning hours, they warm up, wake up, and instinctively fly downward to roost—under rooftops, inside garages, in attics, and eaves.

Then the incendiaries go off.

Thousands of tiny fires ignite across a city—simultaneously. Wooden buildings, so common in early 20th-century Japan, would burst into flame. The fires would overwhelm local responders, spread rapidly, and cripple infrastructure. No massive blast. No civilian carnage. Just scorched industry and disrupted logistics.

It was simple. Cheap. Devastating.

A single bomber could drop thousands of bat bombs—far more than conventional explosives. Target ten cities, and Japan’s wartime production could have been reduced to ashes, forcing surrender far earlier. That, in turn, would’ve allowed Allied forces to reallocate troops and resources to the European front—possibly ending the war across both theaters in a fraction of the time.

But the idea was shelved. Too strange. Too outside-the-box.

Today, it’s just a footnote in declassified documents—a fascinating “what if.”

Now, yes—animal rights advocates would, understandably, protest. Bats would die in the operation. But from a strategic perspective? Fewer human deaths. Less urban destruction. Fires start, people evacuate, buildings burn—but people survive. Contrast that with high-yield bombs that flatten neighborhoods, killing everyone inside.

Bat bombs don’t just destroy. They disrupt.

And here’s the kicker: the idea is still viable today.

With modern microelectronics and remote detonation, bat bombs could be upgraded for precision operations. Urban environments haven’t changed much—roofs, attics, insulation. The concept remains deadly and cheap. And the enemy wouldn’t know what hit them.

War is ugly. But if we must fight, then the smarter, faster, more efficient solution is the humane one. Less blood. More impact.

So yes—bat bombs deserve a second look.

This has been Ben—the Mad Scientist Supreme—signing off.


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