CHAPTER XXII

POISONS USED IN WARFARE

The use of poison as a weapon in warfare is not by any means a modern

practice. It may be traced back to the use of poisoned arrows and

spears, and from the time of the discovery of gunpowder, when surgeons

believed that a bullet formed a septic wound.

François Bernier, who died in Paris in 1688, served in the capacity of

physician to Aurungzebe, the Grand Mogul. In describing a battle fought

at Agra against the Mogul, he states that the Rajputa, a hereditary race

of warriors, were great opium eaters and consumed it in large

quantities, and when going into battle they always doubled the dose to

their soldiers, which had the effect of rendering them insensible to

danger. “They threw themselves,” he states, “into combat like wild

beasts, knowing no retreat, and died at their Rajah’s feet if he would

keep his post.”

It was on April 22, 1915, that the French and Canadian troops in the

front line in the neighbourhood of Langemarck saw what appeared to be a

wave of curious green mist approaching them which soon caused them to

choke and gasp and seemed to seize them in a deadly grip from which they

could not escape. A gap was made in the line in that sector, but the

results of this first use of poison gas in the Great War, although

serious, were not disastrous.

A thrill of horror went up from the Allied nations against this fiendish

manœuvre, which was regarded as a crime against humanity and will never

be forgotten. The gas first used was chlorine, the effects of which are

well known, and was liberated by the enemy from cylinders concentrated

on a front of six hundred yards. The first attack was evidently made as

an experiment, and in the interval, owing to the activity of our

chemists, our men were supplied with a temporary respirator as a defence

from this new peril.

During the following months of May and June, several other gas attacks

were made by the Germans, but not on a very large scale, as for some

time the prevailing winds had been in favour of the Allies, which would

be likely to blow the deadly cloud back into the enemy’s lines.

On December 19, 1915, a much more important attack with poison gas was

made on the British front in the Ypres salient, on a front of three and

a half miles. Gas was released continuously for an hour, but thanks to

the protective measures which had been adopted by this time, although

25,000 troops are stated to have been in the area of attack, the

casualties were small.

Disappointed in the effects of their first essay with this form of

weapon, the Germans next introduced phosgene, a very deadly vapour, and

one against which the respirators then used were no protection. A new

type of respirator, however, was speedily devised, and proved effective

against the danger. The gas helmet with its special filter, invented by

Lieut.-Colonel Harrison, came into use, and our men became very quick in

placing it in position.

In August 1916 they launched a highly concentrated phosgene attack

against the Allied lines, on a hot and stifling day, the effects of

which were felt as far as nine miles behind the lines.

The uncertainty of the atmospheric conditions led the Germans to adopt

later another vile method of disseminating poisonous vapours, and they

introduced the gas shell, of which numerous varieties were eventually

made. The contents of these shells were distinguished by the Germans by

special marks in the form of coloured bands on the shell cases; the

so-called “blue cross” contained diphenyl chlorasine, a substance which

when scattered as a fine powder caused intense sneezing to those in the

neighbourhood of it. Two-thirds of the shell were filled with high

explosive, and the intention was to produce uncontrollable sneezing, so

that the wearing of a respirator was made impossible.

Other gas shells were filled with di-phosgene (trichlor methyl

chlorformate), which formed a vapour of a very deadly character

immediately the shell burst and produced most serious consequences.

Another type contained in addition to di-phosgene a quantity of

chlorpicrin, which was not only deadly, but produced extreme running at

the eyes and nose.

These vapours, however, were succeeded in July 1917, in the

neighbourhood of Ypres, by the use of di-chlorethyl sulphide, called

“mustard gas.” Mustard gas is undoubtedly one of the most terrible and

deadly of the gas poisons used. It not only blistered the skin and

turned it brown, but caused intense inflammation, of the eyes and lids,

the throat and nose, often causing permanent blindness and loss of

voice, and eventually producing septic bronchopneumonia, frequently

ending in death.

In the autumn of that year it was used on a large scale against the

Italians, and largely assisted the Austro-German armies in the

break-through at Caporetto.

Clothing, boots, soil or other things which came in contact with it were

liable to affect seriously those brought near them, days after the

articles had been contaminated, but even against this terrible weapon

our gas masks were made effective, if put on with sufficient quickness

and the men could be warned in time.

In spite, however, of this fiendish weapon, the Allies held their own,

and were enabled by scientific and other means to combat these attacks.

It is satisfactory to note that, however deadly were the gases employed,

some means was soon found to counteract them effectively.

The use of poison as a lethal weapon in the Great War was by no means

confined to deadly gases. Numerous instances, many of which are

undoubtedly authentic, were recorded from 1914 to the time of the

Armistice of poisoned sweetmeats and disease organisms that were dropped

from enemy aeroplanes in France and other countries.

On November 4, 1916, it was reported by cable that Prince Mercier, the

youngest child of King Ferdinand of Rumania, who was only five years

old, had died of typhoid.

According to Helen Vacarescu, the Rumanian poetess, the Prince was the

victim of poisoned sweets which were dropped by German airmen into the

streets of Bukarest and other cities of Rumania. Some of these sweets

are said to have fallen into the garden of the Royal Palace, and the

little Prince while playing there took some up and ate them. According

to Miss Vacarescu, he fell sick almost immediately, and when he told

about the sweets he had eaten, a search was instituted, and some of them

were found in the garden. On a scientific investigation being made of

these, they were found to be impregnated with typhoid bacilli. According

to _Le Temps_ it is said that all the families who ate the sweets died.

According to _The Times_ of October 31, 1916, an aeroplane coming from

Transylvania scattered about boxes of poisoned sweetmeats for the

purpose of murdering children, and this excited the greatest indignation

in the district. According to further reports, several of the sweets

contained the microorganisms of various infectious diseases.

On October 12, 1916, a report was received from Petrograd of an enemy

air squadron which dropped bombs on Constanza, the Rumanian Black Sea

port, as well as darts and poisoned sweets saturated with cholera

bacilli.

According to an official report, on October 9, 1916, a squadron of eight

German aeroplanes flew over Bukarest at eleven o’clock one morning and

dropped bombs in the neighbourhood of some linen warehouses. The damage

done was insignificant, but an investigation of the German Legation led

to the discovery of numerous cases of high explosive buried in the

garden, as well as phials labelled Virus Morbi Glanders, which are

supposed to have been sent to propagate an epidemic against cattle and

horses in the country. The discovery is vouched for by a representative

of the United States Legation.

In May 1917 it was reported from Rome that during an Austrian air-raid

over Codigaro, near Ferrara, sweets were thrown out which were found to

contain cholera bacilli. The local authorities issued an order directing

that all wells thereafter should be kept covered.

On December 17, 1917, an account is reported of an air-raid on Calais,

where the Germans dropped a number of small boxes bearing instructions

in English to the effect that they contained soup-powder. Directions

were given to dissolve the powder in water and to add to it a pint of

boiling liquid. Several deaths resulted from using these packets, and an

analysis proved that they contained an extremely virulent poison.

On February 20, 1918, if was reported from Southend that when a raiding

Gotha passed over the town the previous Monday night, a curious patter

was heard on the roofs of some houses in the district. In the morning a

number of sweets about the size of small eggs were found in the roadway

and gardens, believed to have been dropped from the enemy aeroplane.

They were handed to the medical officer of health for Southend, who

reported that he had discovered traces of arsenic in the sweets found on

the public footpath.

On July 29, 1917, a sensation was caused in America by an announcement

made by the Attorney-General, that expert examination had disclosed the

presence of tetanus germs in court plaster which was believed to have

been distributed by German agents, and he essayed to warn the public to

avoid using plaster of that description. The New York State Health

Department published a statement that specimens of such plaster sold by

pedlars had been sent to the State laboratory for examination.

Despatches had been received from Western and Southern areas of the

United States, reporting epidemics of anthrax in herds in the same

region, after the use of such plaster recommended for cuts and other

injuries to cattle.

Poison was used extensively in various ways by the German forces,

although frequently where wells were said to have been poisoned, our men

drank from them freely without any bad results. On the other hand it was

not uncommon in some cases to find, left behind in trenches, large tins

of cocoa and other tempting commodities which on analysis proved to be

contaminated.

The use of bacteriological methods was also not neglected by the enemy,

and it was stated in a despatch from Washington on July 9, 1917, that

the Germans, before evacuating the territory west of St. Quentin,

inoculated the French inhabitants, men, women and children, with

tuberculosis bacilli. The _New York World_ commissioned Dr. Theodore C.

Beebe, a pathologist, of Boston, in charge of the American Ambulance

Hospital at Neuilly, to make an independent investigation of this

matter. Dr. Beebe, in his report, states that while there was no way to

obtain indubitable proof of the allegation, the evidence pointed to the

belief that the Germans made a deliberate attempt to spread tuberculosis

throughout France under the pretence of vaccinating the inhabitants to

protect them from smallpox which they said was sweeping over the

country. Dr. Beebe pointed out that only those persons vaccinated

developed tuberculosis, while unvaccinated children and older persons,

although suffering from pneumonia and other diseases, showed no trace of

it. He found these inoculations were never made until a month or six

weeks before the Germans were evacuating the place; in other words, when

it became apparent to the Germans that they were forced to retreat. Of

course only an examination of the serum at the time of the inoculation

would determine whether it contained tuberculosis bacilli or not; that

of course was impossible, but the investigator concluded that the facts

he had ascertained led him to the belief that the charge brought against

Germany of having committed this most horrible crime was true.

On March 30, 1917, it was reported that a discovery had been made of a

plot to kill the cavalry horses within the British lines. This was to

have been done by bacteriological cultures introduced into the food or

by making a wound inside the horse’s nostril with a contaminated wire.

This plot, which was discovered in time, was part of the German plan of

retirement, but was fortunately found out and frustrated before any

casualties occurred.

In the latter part of June 1918 some sensation was caused in London by a

story that was circulated of a mysterious man who was distributing

chocolate sweets broadcast. At that time most of the conductors of

omnibuses were women. Suspicions were aroused when two of these women,

after accepting chocolates from a male passenger, who was said to have

been well dressed, became ill. Two omnibus girls and a tramway girl who

accepted some sweets in the same way, handed them over to the

Metropolitan Police, and the authorities were placed on the watch; in

almost every case the sweets were offered by the man when he was in the

act of descending.

At Cedar’s Road, Clapham, the same man gave a tramway conductress a box

containing five chocolates. The man is reported to have said, “You won’t

taste any more like this for years to come.” The girl, having been

warned by a police notice posted in the tramway depot, did not eat any

of them. Several cases were reported from the East End, and several

chocolates were found on omnibus seats after passengers had left. The

object of the mysterious individual not having achieved its effect, his

operations eventually ceased, and nothing further was heard of the

matter.

Probably the only case on record of the use of a poison gas in an

attempt to murder, was reported from Germany in November 1922, when two

men were charged at Leipzig with attempting to kill a man called

Scheidemann at Cassel on Whit-Sunday. They carefully charged glass

syringes with cyanogen gas, and secreting them in their pockets, they

awaited the coming of their victim, and discharged the poison gas in his

face. Scheidemann eventually recovered, and the two men were convicted

of an attempt to kill him.

During the Napoleonic Wars the curious suggestion was made by Perceval

that the Allies could bring the French to their knees by prohibiting the

importation to the Continent of cinchona bark and other valuable drugs.

“The suggestion,” says a writer of the time, “is well worthy of the

statesman. To bring the French to reason by keeping them without

rhubarb, and exhibiting to mankind the awful spectacle of a nation

deprived of natural salts! Without castor oil they might for some months

be able to carry on a lingering war, but could they do without bark?

Will the people live under a Government where antimony cannot be

procured? Will they bear the loss of mercury? Depend upon it they will

soon be brought to their senses, and the cry of ‘Bourbon and Bolus’ be

raised from the Baltic to the Mediterranean!”

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