Between 1956 and 1963, the United Kingdom conducted seven nuclear tests at the Maralinga site in South Australia, part of the Woomera Prohibited Area about 800 kilometres (500 mi) north west of Adelaide.

The McClelland Royal Commission, an examination of the effects of the minor trials and major tests, delivered its report in 1985, and found that significant radiation hazards still existed at many of the Maralinga sites.

[2] Fearing a resurgence of United States isolationism, and Britain losing its great power status, the British Government restarted its own development effort,[3] under the cover name "High Explosive Research".

[15] The Australian Minister for Supply, Howard Beale, stated in 1955 that "England has the know how; we have the open spaces, much technical skill and a great willingness to help the Motherland.

[18] When William Penney, the Chief Superintendent Armament Research,[3] visited South Australia in October 1952, he gave the Australian Government a summary of the requirements of a permanent test site.

[20] He wrote to J. E. S. Stevens, the permanent secretary of the Australian Department of Supply, and the chairman of the Totem Panel that coordinated the Australian contribution to Operation Totem,[20] and outlined the requirements of a permanent test site, which were: Elmhirst suggested that a site might be found in Groote Eylandt in the Gulf of Carpentaria or north of Emu Field, where it could be connected by road and rail to Oodnadatta, and where water could more easily be found than at Emu Field.

[22] Group Captain George Pither conducted an aerial survey of the area north of the Trans-Australian Railway between Ooldea and Cook, South Australia.

[26] It was flat and dry, but not affected by dust storms like Emu Field, and the geologists were confident that the desired 2.5 million imperial gallons (10 megalitres) per annum could be obtained by boring.

[30] A mission consisting of six officials and scientists headed by J. M. Wilson, the under-secretary of the UK Ministry of Supply (MoS) visited Australia in December to evaluate the Maralinga site, and reported that it was excellent.

It ran north to the edge of the Nullarbor Plain, then over sand hills and the Leisler Range, a mallee, spinifex and quandong covered escarpment, rising to an altitude of 300 metres (1,000 ft).

[39] The UK MoS engaged a firm of British engineering consultants, Sir Alexander Gibb & Partners, to design the test facilities and supervise their construction.

[39] Assembling a labour force of 1,000 from scratch in such a remote location proved difficult, even when KCG was offering wages as high as AU £40 a week (equivalent to AUD$3,182 in 2022).

The British Government added a generous meal allowance of GBP £1 (equivalent to AUD$127 in 2022) per day, resulting in a diet of steak, ham, turkey, oysters and crayfish.

Walter MacDougall had been appointed the Native Patrol Officer at Woomera on 4 November 1947, with responsibility for ensuring that Aboriginal people were not harmed by the LRWE's rocket testing program.

Another patrol officer position was created, one with powers under the 1954 Western Australian Native Welfare Act, which was filled by a Sydney University graduate, Robert Macaulay.

[59] In response, Aldermaston developed a new warhead called Red Beard that was half the size of Blue Danube and weighed one-fifth as much, mainly through innovation in the pit design, principally the use of an "air lens".

Butement, Dwyer, Martin and Titterton from the AWTSC were present,[67] and Beale arrived from Canberra with a delegation of 26 politicians,[68] but weather conditions were unfavourable, and the test had to be postponed.

[78] The air drop was the most difficult test, as the worst-case scenario involved the radar fuses failing and the bomb detonating on impact with the ground, which would result in severe fallout.

The pilot, Squadron Leader Edwin Flavell, and the bomb aimer, Flight Lieutenant Eric Stacey, were awarded the Air Force Cross[79][80] in the 1957 New Year Honours.

[136] Plutonium is not particularly dangerous externally as it emits alpha particles which are stopped by 9 cm (3.5 in) of air, or the dead layer of skin cells on the body, and is not a very intensive source of radiation, due to its long half-life of 24,000 years.

A board of inquiry was held,[138] but an even more embarrassing incident occurred on the night of 23/24 September 1960, when seven of the eight balloons being readied for experiments broke free of their moorings during a thunderstorm.

[151] The McClelland Royal Commission delivered its report in late 1985, and found that significant radiation hazards still existed at many of the Maralinga test sites, particularly at Taranaki.

[160] Nuclear engineer Alan Parkinson observed that "an Aboriginal living a semi-traditional lifestyle would receive an effective dose of 5 mSv/a (five times that allowed for a member of the public).

[162][163] One author suggests that the resettlement of Aboriginal people and denial of access to their traditional lands "contributed significantly to the social disintegration which characterises the community to this day.

Australian servicemen were ordered to: repeatedly fly through the mushroom clouds from atomic explosions, without protection; and to march into ground zero immediately after bomb detonation.

[168] In 2001, Sue Rabbit Roff, a researcher from the University of Dundee, uncovered documentary evidence that troops had been ordered to run, walk and crawl across areas contaminated by the Buffalo tests in the days immediately following the detonations;[169] a fact that the British Government later admitted.

[173] It was found in 2021 that radioactive ("hot") particles persist in the soil, after international multidisciplinary team of scientists studied the results produced by a machine at Monash University that could slice open tiny samples using a beam of high-energy ions only a nanometre wide.

[176] According to Liz Tynan from James Cook University, the Maralinga tests were a striking example of what can happen when the popular media are unable to report on activities that a government may be trying to hide.

The investigative journalist Brian Toohey ran a series of stories in the Australian Financial Review in October 1978, based in part on a leaked Cabinet submission.

They are a detailed analysis of the legacy of Vixen B and the Australian Government's prolonged negotiations with the United Kingdom on cleaning up Maralinga and sharing the cost of "safe-sealing" waste plutonium.