The compound commonly referred to in chemical warfare as “mustard-gas” is

known to chemists as dichlorethylsulphide. Its nature is as formidable as

its name. It has a distinctive smell, like garlic rather than mustard.

It has no immediate effect on the eyes, beyond a slight irritation, but

after several hours the eyes begin to swell and inflame and practically

blister, causing the most intense pain; the nose discharges freely,

and severe coughing and even vomiting ensue. Direct contact with the

spray causes blistering of the skin so severe that it is virtually

burned. Even when protected by masks and specially made clothing, it is

impossible for troops to remain for more than eight hours in an area

which has been bombarded with mustard-gas. Dichlorethylsulphide, to use

its correct name, is produced by blowing ethylene-gas into liquid sulphur

monochloride in large iron reaction vessels. Contrary to the popular

impression, this gas contains no mustard. The details of devices and

methods for introducing the ethylene and sulphur monochloride into the

vessels, the removal of the product, the necessary agitation and cooling

of the mass, and the like, were frequently changed during the development

of the process and had not reached a final form even when the Armistice

was signed. Nevertheless, when the war ended, Edgewood was producing 30

tons of mustard-gas a day and a rapid increase up to 100 tons daily was

practically assured.

Though the Germans began their use of gas by releasing it from cylinders,

depending upon the wind to carry it over the enemy’s lines, these

“cloud attacks,” as they were called, did not prove satisfactory and

were eventually discontinued, for great difficulty was experienced in

getting the heavy cylinders up to the front and installing them in the

trenches, and favorable winds could not be depended upon. It seems

likely, indeed, that the Germans failed to recognize the significance of

the meteorological records and charts of northern France, which show that

75 per cent of the prevailing winds are from a southerly or southeasterly

direction, thus leaving the Germans only 25 per cent of the time in

which they could use their gas without danger of its being blown back

over their own lines. It was in order to overcome these meteorological

conditions that the Germans evolved the idea of loading the gas into

shell, usually in the form of liquid, which turned into gas when it came

into contact with the air upon the explosion of the shell, and firing

these shell from guns or mortars, thus enabling them to place the gas

wherever they desired without reference to the weather. During the last

two years of the war, barring a few isolated instances, gas was used in

no other way.

The filling of shell was, therefore, one of the most important of

Edgewood’s many activities. Let me explain to you, as simply and briefly

as possible, how the shell were filled with phosgene.

The empty shell, after inspection, were loaded on trucks together

with the required number of loaded boosters. (A booster, it should be

explained, is the cap or stopper containing a charge of high explosive,

usually TNT or dynamite, which is screwed on the nose of the shell after

it has been filled with gas, much as a metal top is screwed onto a

bottle. Just before firing, a fuse is inserted in the booster, igniting

the explosive, which in turn shatters the shell, thus releasing the gas.)

The trucks with the empty shell were then run by electric locomotives to

the filling buildings. Here the shell were transferred to a conveyer,

a sort of moving platform, which slowly moved through a room kept cold

by refrigeration. About thirty minutes was required for this operation,

during which time the shell were cooled to a temperature of about zero.

This chilling of the shell was made necessary because phosgene has a low

boiling-point. It was imperative, therefore, that the temperature of the

shell be kept considerably below the boiling-point of phosgene in order

that the latter should remain in liquid form while the filling was taking

place. The chilled shell were then transferred to trucks and hauled

by motor through the filling-tunnel to the filling-machines. Here the

phosgene, kept in liquid state by refrigeration, was run into the shell

by automatic machines. The truck then carried the filled shell forward

a few feet, at which point the boosters were screwed into the noses of

the shell by hand. The final closing of the shell was then effected by

motors operated by compressed air. The filled shell were next conveyed

to the shell-dump, where they were classified and stored for twenty-four

hours, nose down on skids, in order to test them for leaks. The following

day the shell were again placed on conveyers which carried them through

a painting-machine, where air-brushes gave them a coat of elephant gray

and striped them with the distinctive bands of color which denoted the

type of gas they contained. The methods followed in filling shell with

chlorpicrin were similar to those for phosgene except that refrigeration

was unnecessary. The peculiar properties of mustard-gas, however,

required an entirely different filling system. Edgewood Arsenal also had

separate plants for filling the stannic-chloride hand-grenades used for

“mopping up” trenches; for filling both shell and grenades with white

phosphorus for use in forming smoke-screens to conceal the movements of

advancing troops, and for loading the incendiary drop-bombs used by the

Air Service.

The various plants which I have just described by no means comprised

the whole of Edgewood’s activities, however, for, in order to obtain a

sufficient supply of bromine, certain compounds of which are excellent

tear-producing materials, a series of brine-wells was sunk at Midland,

Michigan; a plant for the production of another lachrymator, brombenzyl

cyanide, was erected at Kingsport, Tennessee; and an establishment for

the manufacture of diphenychlorarsine—an arsenical material used in gas

warfare because it produces violent sneezing, thus causing the troops

to remove their gas-masks and thereby exposing them to the effects of

the toxic-gases used in combination with the arsenicals—was started at

Croyland, Pennsylvania.

As a matter of fact, the great mother-plant on Chesapeake Bay had

branches and ramifications of which the public had scarcely an inkling,

so carefully were the details of our gas production guarded. I have

already pointed out that it was the original intention to secure the

entire supply of toxic materials from existing chemical plants, and

that it was only after this plan was found to be unfeasible that the

decision to build government plants was reached. This decision did not

signify, however, that no such material would be obtained from existing

firms. On the contrary, it was decided to utilize such firms whenever it

was possible to secure their co-operation. But as the products desired

had never been prepared on a commercial scale in this country, it was

impossible to forecast with accuracy the cost of their manufacture. As

a result, the co-operation of the existing chemical concerns could be

secured only on the condition that the government would finance the

work. These plants, therefore, though they continued to be operated by

their owners, became in fact government plants, being financed by the

government, representatives of the War Department being stationed at

each establishment to supervise their administration and look after the

government’s interests. At first they were under the direction of the

trench warfare section of the Ordnance Department, but, under a later

order, they were made a part of Edgewood Arsenal and placed under the

administration of its commanding officer. The list of these outside

plants, with their official designation and the product manufactured in

each, is as follows:

Edgewood Arsenal, Niagara Falls Plant: Manufacture of phosgene.

Edgewood Arsenal, Midland (Mich.) Plant: Sinking of brine-wells

for the purpose of securing adequate supplies of bromine.

Edgewood Arsenal, Buffalo Plant: Manufacture of mustard-gas.

Edgewood Arsenal, Bound Brook (N. J.) Plant: Manufacture of

phosgene.

In addition to the above, the following outside plants were not only

built (or were in process of construction at the date of the Armistice)

but were operated as well by the government. Their location at points

other than Edgewood was decided upon partly because of the fact that

it was thought wise to have at least two plants for the manufacture of

each important material located at different places, since an accident

at one would in no way interfere with production at the other. These

government-owned establishments were:

Edgewood Arsenal, Stamford (Conn.) Plant: Manufacture of

chlorpicrin.

Edgewood Arsenal, Hastings (N. Y.) Plant: Manufacture of

mustard-gas.

Edgewood Arsenal, Kingsport (Tenn.) Plant: Manufacture of

brombenzyl cyanide.

Edgewood Arsenal, Croyland (Pa.) Plant: Manufacture of

diphenychlorarsine.

In addition to these nine great outlying plants, with their thousands

of workmen, there was the splendidly equipped Research Department at

American University, on the outskirts of Washington; the Experimental

Field and Proving-Ground near Lakehurst, New Jersey; and the Army Gas

Schools at Camp Kendrick, New Jersey, and Camp A. A. Humphreys, Virginia.

The tract of land near Lakehurst taken over for experimental purposes was

5 miles long and 4 wide and had an area of nearly 14,000 acres. As the

nearest habitation was 2½ miles away no difficulty was experienced in

conducting the highly important experiments with the necessary secrecy.

The camp included quarters for 50 officers and barracks for 800 men, a

completely equipped chemical laboratory, the staff of which included

expert glass-blowers who could make every kind of apparatus required, a

meteorological station, commanded by a former official of the Government

Weather Bureau, equipped with the latest apparatus necessary for making

and recording meteorological observations, a mechanical shop containing

lathes, drills, and tools for making repairs of every description, an

ice-making plant, a post hospital, a goat hospital, a dog hospital,

a dog kitchen, and enclosures for animals which had to be kept under

observation for long periods. In order to determine the effects of the

various gases on living subjects a large stock of animals—goats, dogs,

cats, rats, mice, guinea-pigs, and monkeys—had to be kept constantly on

hand. These animals were not obtainable in the necessary numbers without

considerable difficulty, it being necessary, on one occasion, to send

an officer to Mexico to purchase 1,500 Angora goats, experiments having

shown that the goat possesses powers of resistance to gas which more

nearly approximate those of a human being than does any other common

animal. Representatives of these various animal types were placed in

trenches modelled after those on the Western Front and bombarded with

different forms of gas-shell, those which remained alive being subjected

to close observation, sometimes for many days, by the experts of the

Pathological and Physiological Department. A human note enters into

this grim business of preparing for war in the fact that those animals,

particularly the dogs, which survived such an experiment were not

subjected to it again. I imagine, however, that the officials of the S.

P. C. A. would have entered a vigorous protest had they been permitted to

lift the veil of secrecy which for many months enveloped the operations

of the Chemical Warfare Service at Lakehurst.

The new methods and devices in gas warfare which were developed by

the great corps of scientists and laboratory experts attached to the

American University Experiment Station were given practical trials at

Lakehurst, where they were tested under conditions approximating as

nearly as possible those of actual warfare. Here experiments were carried

out to determine the value of gas-shells bursting in the air instead of

by impact, the value of mixing toxic or lachrymatory gas with shrapnel,

the value of 14-inch naval shell filled with a combination of high

explosive and toxic substance, and the value of clouds of poison-smoke.

Had the war continued, I imagine that the results of some of these

experiments would have given the Germans the surprise of their lives.

Though the gas production of Edgewood Arsenal from August to November,

1918, increased from 450 to 675 tons a week, and though the filling-plant

had a weekly capacity of nearly 1,000 tons, less than 100 tons of gas

was actually filled into shell weekly. This unfortunate state of affairs

was due to the failure of the Ordnance Department to supply enough, or

nearly enough, shell and boosters to keep pace with the production of

gas. In other words, there was far more gas than there were shell to

put it in, and far more shell than there were boosters for them. During

the early summer of 1918, large quantities of this surplus gas were

shipped overseas and there loaded into shell, but later instructions

were received to stop all shipments in bulk except a limited amount of

chlorine. From that time on, the production of gas was limited by the

number of shell and booster available, because it is impossible to store

toxic-gases in any large quantities. In fact, at all times after the

manufacture of poison-gases began in the United States, the supply of

such materials was not only in excess of the supply of shell and booster,

but the gas-plants could not be operated to their full capacity because

there was no way of utilizing the maximum output.

Do you remember how often, during the months immediately following our

entrance into the great conflict, one heard the assertion made that

American inventive genius would eventually produce a weapon so dreadful,

so potent, that it would end the war because flesh and blood would be

unable to withstand it? It was asserted, with a wealth of circumstantial

detail, that Mr. Edison had been locked up for weeks in his New Jersey

laboratory perfecting a device for the wholesale slaughter of the Huns

which would startle the world. But, as the war continued on its bloody

course, the public faith in inventors gradually waned and the American

people settled down to a realization that victory could be achieved only

by man-power, munitions, and food. Yet the persons who talked so glibly

of some startling discovery which would paralyze the efforts of the enemy

and abruptly end the war little realized how near to the truth their

imaginations led them—_for the government actually had in its possession

the secret of a weapon so terrible that, had it been used, it would

probably have ended the war_.

The story of how the secret came into the possession of the government

is a curious one. Years ago a student of chemistry, then living in a

foreign country, while carrying on a series of laboratory experiments,

stumbled upon a chemical combination which almost cost him his life.

It was a compound never before made, or, at least, never recorded.

Later the chemist came to the United States, but it was not until he

read of the use of toxic-gases by the Germans that he recalled his all

but fatal experiment of many years before. He kept silence, however,

until America’s entry into the war, when he imparted his formula to

the government. The chemist’s assertions of what his compound could

accomplish were at first received with considerable scepticism, but

this scepticism abruptly disappeared when the reports from the Research

Division of the Chemical Warfare Service at American University, where

the formula was developed, were received. So appalling was its nature,

indeed, that the War Department at first refused to permit the use of the

weapon thus strangely placed in its hand on the ground that the nation

using it would be guilty of inhumanity. But in July, 1918, following

the wholesale use of mustard-gas against our troops by the Germans,

the scruples of those in power disappeared and orders were given that

quantity production of the new toxic material should immediately be begun.

This super-gas, as it has been termed, was known to the Chemical Warfare

Service as G-34, though it was more commonly referred to as methyl,

a name which was given it because it in no way suggested the true

character of this newest and deadliest of poisons. It has also been

dubbed “Lewisite” because it was developed from the original formula to

a stage which made it practicable for military use by Professor W. Lee

Lewis, chief of the Defense Department of the Research Division of the

Chemical Warfare Service. Methyl, or Lewisite, is an oily, amber-colored

liquid, with an odor which vaguely suggests that of the geranium. It is

somewhat more volatile than mustard-gas, being comparable in that respect

to benzol. Instead of being inoffensive at first contact, like mustard,

it starts an acute pain which quickly becomes unendurable. A single drop

spilled on the hand will penetrate to the blood, attacking first the

kidneys, then the heart and lungs. It hardens the cell-tissues of the

lungs and causes simultaneously strangulation and a weakening of the

heart which result in speedy and violent death. If taken into the lungs

by inhalation in any perceptible quantity it kills almost instantly, the

victim dying in terrible agony. _It is estimated to be seventy-two times

deadlier than mustard-gas._

The manufacture of methyl was carried on in an abandoned motor-car

plant at Willoughby, Ohio, a suburb of Cleveland, the work being in

charge of Colonel F. M. Dorsey, who, before the war, was a chemical

engineer in the employ of the General Electric Company. Every step in

the process of manufacture was enveloped in the most profound secrecy.

Every workman who entered the stockade surrounding the plant did so

under a voluntary agreement not to leave the eleven-acre space until

the war was won, though this arrangement was later modified upon the

men promising upon their honor not to divulge the nature of the product

or even the existence of the plant. All mail was censored and even the

use of the word Willoughby in correspondence was forbidden, letters

for the officers and men connected with the plant being addressed to

a lock-box in Cleveland. There was no recreation, the work was hard

and danger was always present, the men working with their gas-masks

constantly at the “alert” position. Though none of the masks designed

for protection against chlorpicrin, phosgene, or mustard were of the

slightest avail against methyl, the safety of the workers was ensured by

specially designed masks and clothing. Had we used methyl against the

Germans, however, it is extremely unlikely that they would have succeeded

in devising a means of protection against it—at least in time to save

themselves.

The methyl, as manufactured, was loaded into both shell and drums. The

shell, of 155mm. calibre, contained about ten pounds of the liquid, which

becomes a gas upon contact with the air; the drums, which held from 350

to 400 pounds each, were to be dropped from airplanes. It is estimated

that half a hundred of these drums, judiciously distributed, would

exterminate the entire population of Manhattan Island. When the Armistice

was signed methyl was being produced at the rate of approximately ten

tons a day and the plant at Willoughby was two months ahead of its

schedule, orders having been given that 3,000 tons should be in France,

ready for use, by March 1, 1919. It was well for Germany that she quit

when she did. Had methyl been turned loose against the Huns, civilization

would have had its revenge on the assassins of the _Lusitania_, on the

fiends who ravaged France and raped Belgium.

Within forty-eight hours after the signing of the Armistice the work

of dismantling the plant at Willoughby had begun, and ten weeks later

its demolition was complete. A special train, running at night under

heavy guard, carried the hundreds of tons of methyl which had already

been produced, in iron containers, to Edgewood Arsenal, where it was

transferred to a steamer, taken out to sea, and lowered into three miles

of salt water. But the formulæ and processes for manufacture still exist,

locked away in the great vaults of the War College in Washington, so, if

the nation is ever again forced to take up arms, it has at hand the most

terrible weapon ever devised for the purpose of wholesale slaughter.

Notwithstanding the fact that toxic-gases had been in almost constant

use by the European belligerents for two years before the United States

entered the conflict, the declaration of war found us totally unprepared

to commence the manufacture of the gas-defense equipment with which every

soldier going overseas must be provided. Such an article as a gas-mask

had never been produced in this country, the sum total of American

knowledge on the subject having been obtained from the masks brought

back as souvenirs by war correspondents and displayed in shop-windows

and from the pictures in the illustrated papers. Incredible as it may

seem, in view of the enormously important rôle which gas was playing

on the European battle-fields, only a single American army officer,

Major L. P. Williamson of the Medical Corps, had studied the subject

of gas defense, and he had done so on his own initiative. Thus it came

about that within a few days after the declaration of war, the military

authorities, confronted by the imperative necessity of providing our

expeditionary forces with gas-defense equipment, were conducting a

frantic search among the various scientific departments of the government

to discover one possessing the necessary facilities for handling the

problem. The Bureau of Chemistry did not have the personnel to carry on

the work and the Department of Agriculture did not have the necessary

apparatus, but the Bureau of Mines at Pittsburg possessed some experience

in kindred problems arising from mine-rescue work, and it also had

adequate facilities for handling the experimental work involved. It

was, therefore, selected for the purpose. The research facilities at

Pittsburg soon proved inadequate, however, and in the summer of 1917

there was taken over the American University Experiment Station, near

Washington, where virtually all of the research work connected with the

numerous branches of the Chemical Warfare Service was conducted. The

Research Division, instead of being dismissed with passing mention, is

deserving of a chapter to itself, the services which it performed in the

development of gases, protective equipment, and manufacturing processes

having been of enormous assistance in the prosecution of the war.

The army behind the army · 第 8 / 31 段