One product all these gases had in common was that they were heavier than air. Instead of billowing into the upper atmosphere, they flowed to the lowest points on the ground. A veteran of World War I once told the author that he was more afraid of gas than any other weapon. He was in the Signal Corps, and his job was to help operate a telephone switchboard deep underground. His dugout was so deep, he explained, that he might not hear the gas alarm. Even if he did, the alarm might be too late. He wouldn’t have time to take off his head-phone and put on his gas mask before phosgene laid him low.
Gas was a true terror weapon — one that can cause fear out of proportion to its effectiveness. Actually, of the deaths on the Western Front, only about 1.1 percent were caused by gas, but fear of gas terrified whole nations on the eve of World War II. Governments tried to issue gas masks to their civilian populations, but there were far too few gas masks. Fortunately, no belligerent tried to gas an enemy’s civilians. Even if there were enough masks, they wouldn’t solve the problem. Mustard gas and Lewisite burn on contact with the skin, and the new nerve gases can quickly kill without being inhaled. Of the three most common nerve gases, Tabun will cause death if 1,000 milligrams touches the victim’s skin; Sarin takes 1,700 milligrams, but VX requires only 15 milligrams on the skin to kill, less than half a fatal dose if inhaled. A person attacked by any of these gases is a grave threat to would-be rescuers. Good Samaritans may get a fatal dose just touching the victim’s clothing.
Gas masks, covering the face and allowing a potential victim breath through a filter, usually composed of activated charcoal, were issued to all soldiers, and those in especially hazardous areas got protective overalls as well. Poison gas was hazardous to everyone near it, especially when used as it was on April 22, 1915, being released into the wind from cylinders. The wind could always shift.
As a result, all belligerents went back to using gas primarily in shells.
In World War II, the Allies, it has been said, were waiting for the Germans to use gas first. Then they would retaliate. The Germans, in spite of all their preparations for war, were not able to deal with poison gas. One reason, according to some experts, was that they had been unable to devise a gas mask for horses.
Although when the war began, the German Army was believed to be the ultimate in mechanization, it still relied heavily on horses for towing artillery and general transport. It continued to do so until the end of the war. German officers complained during the Russian campaign that their “modern” horse-drawn wagons broke down on the awful Russian roads and they had to comandeer Russian peasant carts to carry supplies.
Poison gas did not entirely disappear in spite of its general non-use. The Japanese used mustard gas and other chemical agents against the Chinese in World War II, before the United States and other Western nations became involved, because the Chinese could not retaliate. Iran used poison gas in the Iran-Iraq War of 1980–1988. The Iranians, fanatical followers of the Shi’a Aya-tollah Ruhollah Khomeini, were willing to use anything available in what they considered a holy war. The Iraqis, under the pragmatic and self-centered Saddam Hussein, retaliated with their own gas. That war ended in a stalemate, but Hussein then turned on the Iraqi Kurds, a minority that wanted independence, and slaughtered thousands of them with gas. The Kurds, of course, had no way to retaliate.
Poison gas was one of the “weapons of mass destruction” Iraq was supposed to be hoarding before the U.S. invasion of Iraq in 2002. The only gas found was one artillery shell filled with nerve gas that an Iraqi guerrilla tried to turn into a roadside bomb, apparently believing that it was filled with high explosive. The shell apparently had been scheduled to be disposed of with the rest of Saddam’s gas but got lost among the hundreds of thousands of high explosive shells that seem to be buried every couple of square miles in Iraq.
The future use of gas is uncertain. As time goes on, the chemists are inventing ever more deadly gases — gases that kill quicker, that penetrate filters and protective gear, that kill with the merest touch. It is becoming as horrible as the other components of what the military calls CBR — chemical, biological, and radiological — warfare. Whether or not it is ever used again, it will influence the thinking and action of governments for years to come.
Chapter 35
Artillery Up Close and Personaclass="underline" The Trench Mortar
Of all the war-changing weapons, this has to be one of the most unim-pressive. It looks like a piece of plain pipe propped up on a couple of legs. And, to a large extent, that’s what it is.
When trench warfare developed on a large scale, all armies felt a need for something that would lob explosives down into their enemy’s trenches. That was not a brand-new need, of course. Mortars, which throw shells on a high trajectory, had been among the earliest of firearms. Small mortars for close-range work had been around since the 17th century, but nobody had ever used high-trajectory weapons on the scale they were wanted in World War I. All kinds of contrivances, such as catapults, were tried. The Russians had a catapult that consisted of a pivoted wooden arm that threw hand grenades. Instead of a skein of rope, it was powered by a modern steel coil spring attached to the short lower portion of the arm.
The Germans observed the use of small mortars during the Russo-Japanese War and began to build up their stock in preparation for the next war, which everyone in Europe assumed would happen sooner or later. By 1914, they had 2,000 Minenwerfers (mine throwers), as they called these small mortars. They came in a variety of calibers, from 3 to 9.8 inches. One type of shell had a tube at one end containing powder and a percussion cap. The tube was inserted in the short barrel of the small mortar and fired. This system allowed a small, portable gun to fire a comparatively heavy shell. Unfortunately, the shell, gy-rating end over end, wasn’t very accurate. In the 1948 Israeli war for independence, the Israelis built a similar mortar from odds and ends and called it “Little David.” Little David was hailed as a masterpiece of ingenuity by people who had never heard of its German prototype. Most German Minenwerfers were more complicated than Little David’s ancestor, and heavier, too. All were muzzle-loaders, but they had recoil mechanisms like the field guns. Many were rifled, with driving bands engraved to fit the rifling. Because the shells now flew point-first, they could be fitted with ordinary percussion fuses. Previously, they had time fuses or a gadget called an “all ways” fuse — a rather dangerous device that would explode the shell no matter what part struck a solid object.
As it turned out, the 2,000 Minenwerfers were but a drop in a bucket of what was needed.
The British came up with a much simpler gun after gas was introduced. Called a Livens projector, it was merely an unrifled steel tube with a diameter of eight inches welded to a steel base plate. Groups of 25 projectors were dug into the ground, placed at a pre-determined angle facing the German trenches. Each gun was loaded with a powder charge wired for electrical ignition and a drum of poison gas 8 inches wide and 25 inches long. All 25 guns were then fired simultaneously. The gas drums burst and the gas vaporized as soon as they landed.