poison-gas, for they did not introduce it until nine months after the
beginning of hostilities, and even then they apparently failed to realize
the terrible potency of their new weapon, for they waited twenty-four
hours before following it up with a bayonet attack, evidently fearful
that the gas had not dissipated. As a matter of fact, the gas dissipated
within thirty-five or forty minutes after its release, though in that
time it annihilated 80 per cent of the French, Canadians, and Senegalese
opposing it. Had the Germans taken instant and vigorous advantage of the
confusion and dismay created by their unexpected use of chlorine, they
could unquestionably have broken the Allied front, pushed through to
the Channel ports, and changed the entire course of the war. (I might
mention, parenthetically, that the British had been warned by a deserter,
a week before, that the Germans were making preparations for a gas
attack, but they did not believe him.) But the men in the spiked helmets
failed to take advantage of the Allies’ temporary panic; the latter had
time to improvise a means of defense, and the opportunity of the Germans
to win the war by the use of gas was gone. So effectively, indeed, did
the Allies turn the new weapon to their own uses that, before the close
of 1916, the Germans were putting out feelers for the purpose of bringing
about a cessation of this form of warfare. Then the United States
entered the war, whereupon all the resources of American laboratories
and chemical manufactories were directed toward the production of gas in
quantities of which the Germans had never dreamed.
But, even had the Allies been aware of Germany’s intention to make use
of toxic-gases for military purposes, they would still have been at an
enormous disadvantage, because, as a direct result of her policy of
giving government assistance to certain industries, Germany had several
huge gas-plants, connected with her dye manufactories, in operation when
the war began. Now phosgene, which is comparatively easy to produce,
is used extensively in the manufacture of dyes, which explains why the
Germans had a virtual monopoly of it when they decided to utilize it
for the promotion of dying instead of dyeing. The German Government,
it should be remembered, had for years subsidized the entire chemical
industry of the empire, so that when the war began it had at its
disposal scores of establishments devoted to the production of dyestuffs
and pharmaceutical preparations, in the production of which certain
toxic-gases are an important factor, which were converted, literally
overnight, to military purposes. Though there is no data regarding the
German gas production available, it was probably in the neighborhood
of 30 tons a day. It may have reached 50 tons, but certainly not
more. Though the English, realizing how desperate was the situation,
utilized every facility they could command, their total daily output
of toxic-gases never went above 30 tons. The best the French could do
was much below this. Yet at Edgewood, during the months of September
and October, 1918, when the plant had been in operation only a few
months, the output averaged 140 tons a day and would have gone much
higher had the war continued. In other words, _Edgewood Arsenal alone
produced nearly twice as much gas per day as Germany, France, and England
together_.
Now I wish to lay special emphasis on the fact that when the United
States decided to manufacture gas, and to manufacture it in hitherto
undreamed-of quantities, we were embarking on strange and uncharted
seas. We manufactured almost everything else under the sun, but of the
production of these toxic-gases we knew little save in theory, because
virtually their only commercial value was in the making of certain dyes
and chemicals, for which we had depended almost wholly on Germany. It
was a new game which we had to learn—and to learn quickly. We found
ourselves in the position of a baseball-player who is unexpectedly called
upon to bowl in a game of cricket on which the championship depends. But
when word went out from Washington that chemists were needed to beat the
Germans at their own game, the masters of the retort and the test-tube
left their classrooms and closed their laboratories and from every corner
of the republic came flocking to the colors. I am using no mere figure
of speech when I assert that the mammoth gas industry which was built
up from nothing in less than a twelvemonth, knowledge of which was
without question largely contributory to breaking down the German morale,
was the work of American college professors. Some one, an Englishman,
if I remember rightly, once referred to Germany as “the land of damned
professors.” When their batteries and battalions were sent reeling back
by American-made gas, the Germans must have felt like applying the same
term to the United States.
Notwithstanding the remarkable standard of efficiency which it ultimately
attained, the Chemical Warfare Service, or the Gas Service, as it was
originally called, passed through a checkered and stormy formative
period. By the close of 1917, when we had already been at war for nine
months, there was hardly a branch of the American Army which did not have
a finger in the affairs of gas warfare. The manufacture of masks was
under the direction of the Medical Corps. Gas and shell production was
in the hands of the Ordnance Department. Alarm devices were produced by
the Signal Corps. The gas and flame troops formed the 30th Regiment of
Engineers. Field-training was directed by the Sanitary Corps. Research
work, an extremely important phase, was carried out by the Bureau of
Mines, a branch of the Department of the Interior. And, to complete the
decentralization, arrangements were being made to form a chemical service
section of the National Army for the purpose of conducting gas operations
overseas.
There is nothing to be gained by describing the long series of
misunderstandings, controversies, and recriminations which constituted
the history of gas warfare during the early months of 1918. It is not
pleasant reading. It is enough to say that the demoralization resulting
from this divided authority, taken in conjunction with the introduction
by the Germans of mustard and other new gases, and the difficulty which
the English were experiencing in obtaining a sufficient supply of
chlorine, brought about a situation which caused grave alarm to all who
were familiar with the situation in Europe. The two chief obstacles in
the way of a complete reorganization of the service were the Ordnance
Department, the chief of which was unwilling to permit all of the gas
activities of Ordnance to be controlled by an external authority, and
the Bureau of Mines, which refused to permit its chemists and its
organization to be absorbed by the War Department. Though at that time
it was impossible to modify the attitude of the Bureau of Mines in
regard to its control of research, the Chief of Ordnance did his best to
improve conditions within his own department by placing Colonel William
H. Walker, assistant director of the Gas Service and former professor of
chemical engineering at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, in
complete control of gas production, including the operation of the great
plant at Edgewood, the branch factories throughout the country, and the
experimental field at Lakehurst, New Jersey. The manner in which this
college professor brought order out of chaos at Edgewood and its related
plants, directed the activities of 7,000 soldiers and 8,000 civilian
workmen, settled labor troubles, obtained material, completed and put
into operation the largest toxic-gas plant in existence, and, by his
insistence on manufacturing at Edgewood all types of gases, including a
large proportion of the basic chlorine, made the government independent
of manufacturers and contractors, was one of the most remarkable
accomplishments of the war.
In May, 1918, Major-General William L. Sibert, Corps of Engineers,
who had commanded the First Division in France, was appointed by the
President as director of the Gas Service for the express purpose of
reorganizing that service and placing it on a footing commensurate with
the importance it was now realized to have. General Sibert promptly took
the position that, if he was to assume this responsibility, there could
be no further divided control; all gas production and all research work
must be in his hands. Ensued then lengthy discussions between the War
Department and the Department of the Interior, enlivened by newspaper
articles and speeches in Congress, as to whether the research chemists
of the Bureau of Mines should pass under military control, but General
Sibert’s attitude remained unshaken and, on July 13, 1918, all branches
of the work connected with gas warfare were placed under his control
as chief of the Chemical Warfare Service, henceforward a complete and
separate branch of the army.
When the United States entered the war, none of the toxic-gases used by
the warring nations, with the exception of chlorine, had been prepared in
this country except on a very small scale and as laboratory experiments.
The War Department was faced, therefore, with the immediate problem,
not only of developing methods for the manufacture of these gases on a
large scale, but also of putting these methods into execution. Gases, the
preparation of which even in very small quantities was prohibited in many
laboratories on account of their highly dangerous character and which,
for the same reason, the Railroad Administration refused to transport
except by special trains, were now to be produced by the thousands of
tons. But how? There was no suitable machinery for the purpose to be had
in the United States; everything must be designed and built to order. And
where were the thousands of workmen who would be required to come from?
Why should a man exchange the safety of a shipyard, where he was getting
undreamed-of wages, for the perils of making poison-gas? It was indeed
a stupendous problem which the government was facing. Yet there was no
time to mull the question over, as a judge mulls over a point of law, for
every day brought word of an increasing use of gas by the Germans.
It was the original intention to interest existing chemical firms in
the manufacture of the required gases, with the hope of obtaining from
them the entire supply required. As the project developed, however,
difficulties arose which prevented the carrying out of this programme.
The director-general of railroads ruled, as I have just said, that the
gases could only be transported by special train movement, and this would
entail great difficulty, delay, and expense. More serious objections were
encountered, however, in the efforts to enlist the co-operation of the
chemical manufacturers. The methods for the production of toxic-gases on
a large scale were quite unknown, the manufacturers explained, and to
discover and develop satisfactory processes would necessarily require
extended investigations. The companies also realized that there would be
great danger to the lives of those employed in the work, that fatalities
were almost certain to result, and they were unwilling to run the
risk of the interminable lawsuits which are usually incidental to the
settlement of such cases. Moreover, only a limited number of firms had
the personnel and the experience necessary to undertake the difficult
problems involved, and these firms were already crowded with war work
and were unwilling to assume additional responsibility, particularly of
such a character. And, finally, it was recognized that the manufacture
of toxic-gases would be limited to the duration of the war, and that the
processes involved, as well as the plants necessary for carrying out
these processes, would have little value after the war was over.
Meanwhile the Ordnance Department had approved of a plan to utilize a
portion of a tract comprising 35,000 acres, near Aberdeen, Maryland,
on Chesapeake Bay, which had just been acquired by the government for
a proving-ground, for erecting a suitable plant for filling shell with
poison-gas—though at that time it had not been determined where the
gas itself was to come from. As soon as it became evident that the
necessary quantities of gas could not be obtained from private firms,
the War Department decided to erect and operate its own gas-plants on
a peninsula of the Aberdeen Reservation, known as Gunpowder Neck. This
peninsula, consisting of about 3,500 acres, which was admirably suited
for the purpose by reason of its remoteness from centres of population,
its security, and its facilities for rail and water transportation, was
named Edgewood Arsenal.
Only those who saw the low-lying, swamp-lined shores of Gunpowder Neck
during the winter and spring of 1917-1918 can fully picture the obstacles
with which our gas-makers were confronted. Have you ever seen a Virginia
road after the spring rains? Yes? Imagine, then, this Virginian clay
mixed with Mexican adobe and diluted with New Orleans molasses and you
will have a slight idea of the nature of the soil over which enormous
quantities of material had to be hauled and on which was erected the
greatest manufactory of poison-gas in the world. It may be recalled,
moreover, that the winter of 1917-1918 was the severest in the memory
of the oldest inhabitant. For weeks on end the shores of the Chesapeake
resembled the shores of Greenland, but, in spite of cold and mud and
rain, in spite of apparently insurmountable difficulties in obtaining
building materials and in securing transportation for those materials on
the congested railways, in spite of strikes and labor troubles of every
kind, the work forged steadily ahead, officers and men working themselves
as a negro teamster works his mules. Scores of miles of roads were built
and metalled, a network of railways was laid down, and over them snorted
panting locomotives hauling endless caravans of freight-cars. The
building sites were illuminated by hundreds of arc-lights, the working
force was divided into shifts, and the reservation resounded both night
and day to the creak of derricks, the clatter of riveters, and the rasp
of saws. A total of 558 buildings were constructed on the grounds of
the arsenal, including, in addition to the huge structures of steel and
concrete which comprised the filling and the various chemical plants,
36 cantonments with quarters for 8,400 men, 3 field-hospitals, a base
hospital with more than 400 beds, bunk-houses for civilian workmen,
officers’ barracks, Y. M. C. A. and Knights of Columbus huts, and one of
the most completely equipped laboratories in the country. Edgewood is,
in reality, a collection of great manufacturing plants, with all that
implies in housing, sanitation, heating, storage, hospitalization, and
other agencies. And the work was done by men every one of whom, from
the commanding officer down, was in civil life when the war began. Not
a single officer or man of the Regular Army had any responsibility for
the construction or operation of Edgewood Arsenal from the day that the
ex-professor of chemistry, Colonel Walker, assumed command, until its
operations were terminated by the Armistice.
Any one who has had practical experience in manufacturing well knows that
it is usually a long step from laboratory experimentation to factory
production, a step which it often takes months and sometimes years to
make and which is frequently beset with all manner of difficulties and
problems. But there was no such time at the disposal of the Edgewood
gas-makers. In all their experiments they were never permitted to
slack up on production. The need was too vital. Our armies in France
were clamoring for gas, gas, gas. There were no existing models for
much of the machinery needed, but the corps of brilliant young men
with whom Colonel Walker had surrounded himself invented as they went
along. Yet, as a result of the experiments at Edgewood, numerous new
and more economical processes were discovered. The slow and dangerous
water-cooling method of producing phosgene, as followed in Europe, was
supplanted by an entirely new system and a plant was perfected which
could turn out forty tons of this gas every twenty-four hours. When the
Edgewood plant was put into operation the government was paying one
dollar and fifty cents a pound for phosgene, but when the Armistice was
signed we were manufacturing it at the theretofore unheard-of price of
ten cents per pound and would have brought it to an even lower figure
had the production been continued. The systems devised for filling,
painting, and marking the shell were marvels of mechanical ingenuity.
These discoveries were not intended for commerce. They were the result
of patriotic effort on the part of the workmen to see the nation excel
in the particular thing in which it was then engaged—war. They were the
outgrowth of impatience over slow and dangerous methods, or a desire to
do the work in hand a little better or a little more quickly than it had
been done before—a quality inherent in the American character.
It is a remarkable commentary on the efficiency of the Edgewood
organization that notwithstanding the fact that the manufacture of
poison-gases in quantity was a new industry in the United States, that
the machinery was improvised or designed from the ground up, that the
workmen were without previous experience—many of the drafted men, mind
you, were fresh from offices, stores, and farms—and that they were
engaged in a peculiarly hazardous occupation, only four fatalities were
directly traceable to poisoning by gas. This should not be construed as
minimizing the peril attached to the work, however, for, though every
possible precaution was observed in the construction and operation of the
plants, there were 925 casualties between June and December, 1918, of
which 674 were due to mustard-gas. During the month of August, when the
gases were most volatile as a result of the excessive heat (during that
month the mercury stood at 106 degrees for three days in succession), and
when the weather caused the soldiers to somewhat relax their precautions,
the hospitals were on several days filled at the rate of 3½ per cent of
the entire force of the mustard-gas plant, though this rate of casualties
was not maintained, of course, throughout the entire month. I might add
that several of the divisions which took part in the St. Mihiel offensive
sustained a considerably smaller percentage of losses, which shows that
the dangers of the war were not entirely monopolized by the men who
served in France.
Long before the chemical plants were completed it became evident that
civilian labor could not be utilized in their operation. Not only was
such labor difficult to obtain, but the wages were abnormally high,
the work was, as a whole, extremely inefficient, and it was virtually
impossible to maintain the discipline and secrecy imperative to the
success of the undertaking. Moreover, it was found that such civilian
labor as was available could not be depended upon to work in the chemical
plants because of the danger attending the manufacture of such highly
poisonous materials. It was decided, therefore, to utilize enlisted
men. As the project progressed, increasing numbers of soldiers from
the National Army were detailed to the arsenal, the force reaching a
strength of 7,400 at one time. The soldiers, no matter how much they
disliked the work, could not quit like the civilian laborers; they had
no option but to obey orders, and so, morning after morning, they rose
at the summons of the bugles in the dim light of early dawn, hurried
through their breakfasts at the long tables in the mess-halls, and
marched to their respective tasks, whether making chlorine, chlorpicrin,
phosgene, or mustard gas, filling or painting shell, working in the
great refrigerating-plants through which the shell were passed to be
chilled before filling, loading trains and boats, building roads, digging
ditches, or firing boilers—all for thirty dollars a month. To the men who
wore the blue-and-yellow hat-cords of the Chemical Warfare Service, the
men who performed their dangerous work without advertisement and without
public recognition, is due the gratitude of the nation.
The chief activities of the great arsenal on the Chesapeake consisted, as
I believe I have already mentioned, of the manufacture of four types of
toxic-gas—chlorine, chlorpicrin, phosgene, and mustard—and the filling
of shell with these gases. Now I have not the slightest intention of
entering upon a technical account of the complicated processes by which
these gases were produced. Though no doubt interesting to chemists, it
would make dry reading for others. It will suffice for the purposes of
this book to sketch in briefest outline, and in simple words, the chief
characteristics of the principal toxic-gases and the methods followed in
their manufacture.
Chlorine, which is the first gas the Germans used and which is an
important constituent of nearly all the other toxic-gases, is derived
from ordinary table-salt. It is prepared by passing a current of
electricity through a solution of salt, by which process chlorine is
liberated and caustic soda formed. At ordinary temperatures chlorine is a
greenish-yellow gas of strong, suffocating odor, but by means of cold and
pressure it can be readily condensed to a liquid and is usually shipped
in that form, stored in strong cylinders. The apparatus in which the salt
is decomposed by the electric current is known as a cell. The salt, upon
arrival at the arsenal, was taken to the brine building and dumped into
large concrete tanks kept partially filled with water, the resulting
brine being drawn off, purified, and pumped to the cell-house as needed.
The interior of this building was filled with cells, nearly 4,000 in all,
through which was passed a direct current of approximately 260 volts.
The chlorine thus extracted from the brine was liquefied by compressing
it through the agency of a falling column of sulphuric acid and then
cooling the compressed gas by refrigeration. Though chlorine has long
been manufactured in the United States for chemical purposes, a constant
supply of it was so essential for the preparation of the other gases that
Colonel Walker insisted that it should be produced at Edgewood, thus
making the government independent of private manufacturers.
Chlorpicrin, while not so poisonous as some of the other gases, is,
nevertheless, an active poison and has, in addition, pronounced lachrymal
(tear-producing) and nauseating qualities. Though chlorpicrin is fatal
when taken in large quantities, it is almost impossible to inhale much
of it because of its terribly nauseating effect. The inhalation of four
cubic inches of it causes violent vomiting. Chlorpicrin is produced by
the action of picric acid upon chlorine in the form of bleaching-powder.
The bleaching-powder, after being diluted with water to the consistency
of thick cream, is mixed with a solution of calcium picrate in large
stills holding 5,000 or more gallons. A jet of live steam is introduced
at the bottom of the still and the reaction begins at once, the resulting
chlorpicrin passing out of the still into condensers. This mixture of
chlorpicrin and water is then run into tanks. As chlorpicrin does not
dissolve in water, it gradually settles to the bottom and is drawn off
and loaded directly into the shell.
Phosgene, the next member of the poison-gas family, is the deadliest of
the lung-gases, killing almost as quickly as cyanogen. It is produced
by the combination of two other gases, chlorine and carbon monoxide.
The reaction is effected in iron boxes, lined with lead and filled with
charcoal, into which a stream of chlorine and carbon monoxide, mixed in
proper proportion, is introduced. The colorless gas which results is
phosgene. It is condensed to a liquid by passing it through a condenser
surrounded by brine kept cold by refrigeration and is then either
stored in strong steel containers or run directly into the thirty-pound
cylinders known as Livens’ drums. These drums are fired from a sort of
mortar, called a projector, and are extremely effective for producing
heavy concentrations of gas up to a range of 1,500 yards.