"_GAS! GAS! GAS!_"
"Gas! Gas! Gas!" and the hand-siren rang through the dugout in
accompaniment to the cry of the sentinel. The first shout sounded far
away; I was sleeping deeply. The second brought me to my elbow, and
the third sent my hands down through the inky darkness to the mask on
my chest. I was wide-awake and in absolute command of every faculty.
I remember the surprise with which I noted my calmness. I had feared
that in just such circumstances I should go to pieces, or at least
bungle things and fail in those first fateful seconds. But I adjusted
my mask with precision, with deftness that my fingers had never before
possessed; and I recalled every item of the instructions I had received.
I held my breath until the mouthpiece was between my teeth, attached
the nose-clamp, shoved the mask far under my chin, and then pressed my
face well into it while I firmly fixed the holding-bands about my head.
Then I inhaled deeply, filling my lungs with the chemicalized air,
exhaled violently, and noted with satisfaction the "glub, glub" of the
little rubber exhaust that told me the machine was "hitting on every
cylinder."
All the while I was fully conscious of the sounds and movements about
me. I heard the rats scurry squealing into the corners. I scratched
methodically on several inhabited portions of my anatomy. I listened
to the muffled voices in the signal-corps room, which was just beyond
the thin partition; the men on duty there with the trench telephones
wore French masks that had neither nose-clamps nor mouthpieces. But,
masks or no masks, signals and messages must go forward without delays.
These lads of the signal stations, along with those "standing post" to
give the warning, must add to the dangers that all face the extra ones
that fall to the lot of men who are charged with the safety of their
comrades. I listened to the soldiers stirring in the billets behind
me--forty-seven bunks were there; and just across in the first-aid
dressing-station I heard the stretcher party.
To all of these matters I was keenly alive while I adjusted my mask (I
had on all my clothes), groped for the door opening out of my private
sleeping-corner, which was almost exactly as large as the cot it
contained, and stepped into the central room occupied by the Y. M. C.
A. canteen. Here I found candles burning feebly.
Does this all sound like rare presence of mind and complete
self-control? Do not be deceived. It was simply a case of nerves
paralyzed with terror and of muscles responding mechanically to
suggestions previously received. The acuteness of my perception and
sense of hearing were evidences of acute fright.
The canteen soon filled with begoggled soldiers; we stood elbow to
elbow, and waited. Was there gas in the room? I wondered. Hardly time
for that, because of the heavy blankets sealing the entrance to the
cellar; one stairway and one deep-set window were the only openings
through which either air or gas could penetrate. These were closed
at night. The dugout itself was a kilometer back from the advanced
trenches, and on comparatively high ground. I remembered that on the
preceding day an officer in discussing a possible gas attack had said
that our position was very favorable. But of course the enemy might be
sending over gas-shells in a bombardment of the batteries just behind
us, in which case our hole in the ground might become a veritable
deathtrap to any one without a mask.
The ruins high above us trembled with the vibrations from our own guns.
I looked up, and noted that the arched roof of the cement wine-cellar
which was the basis for the entire dugout, or rather system of dugouts,
where we were quartered did not show even a crack. We were in one of
the finest bomb-proofs in that entire sector. After more than three
years the direct hits of high explosives had not penetrated it. To its
original thickness and strength had been added the tumbled-in walls
of the glorious old building which once stood above it. Now and then
shells bursting near the entrance to our shelter forced in the heavy
curtains with the rush of air following the explosion.
The firing from our own guns became more intense and rapid. What did
it mean? Were we under general attack? Was a raid to be received, or
were our lads to deliver one? Was our barrage--for the bombardment had
assumed the intensity of curtain fire--a reply to German guns, or was
it the initiating of a local offensive? I found myself getting out
of hand, but remembered the alert officers out there in the greater
danger, whose orders would answer my question soon enough.
Now another matter thrust itself upon my attention; my mouth and throat
were full of saliva, and I didn't know what to do with it. At this
point--and a vital one it is--my instructor had failed me. There are so
many things to remember that it is surprising more is not forgotten. I
became desperate. My predicament was far worse than a patient's in a
dentist's chair with jaws clamped wide open and a rubber sheet jammed
between his teeth. In the latter case one can signal with his hands,
and indeed, under great provocation, a man has been known to kick the
shins of his tormentor. But I knew that neither signalling nor kicking
would now do me any good. There were questions, pressing questions,
that I wished to ask; and I could not open my mouth to ask them. I
could not even talk through my nose, for that was in a vise. My head
now felt like a Noah's ark. It was a case of strangle or swallow. I
decided that I had a choice between allowing the saliva to pour through
the tube into the chemical can of the mask, or of somehow getting it
down my throat. I took a deep breath, held firmly to the mouthpiece,
and swallowed. Later I learned that I had done exactly the right thing.
Minutes passed, and my eyes began to burn, and my goggles became
blurred. I heard muffled coughing, and a sweat broke out upon me; were
we to be trapped without a chance for our lives? But no orders came,
and we waited on. Being in a group and in the station of a special gas
sentinel, I knew that we were to depend upon this sentinel for further
instructions and not to "test for gas" ourselves. Testing for gas is
done by filling the lungs to their utmost capacity through the tube,
releasing the nose-clamp, pulling the mask slightly away from one
cheek, and sniffing. If gas is still about, the odor will be detected
_unless the gas is odorless_; and the lungs, being already occupied
by air, will not be affected. However, if your test has revealed the
presence of gas, your mask has now become filled with the poison, and
this must be got out. After readjusting the nose-clamp the lungs are
emptied, and refilled through the breathing-tube; then simultaneously
the mask is pulled away quickly from the cheek, and the breath instead
of being exhaled through the tube is blown violently into the mask
itself. By repeating this rather hazardous operation several times the
mask is entirely cleared.
But to return to the case in hand. I was fast becoming blinded by
the moisture on my "windows." I now followed the instructions of my
teacher, and brought out my "window-cleaner," the preparation which
each man carries for thoroughly cleansing his goggles. Leaving the nose
firmly held and continuing my strong bite on the mouthpiece, which
is not unlike the mouth-hold in a football nose-guard, I pulled the
bands off my head, the mask away from my cheeks, and with the speed of
desperation cleansed the two glasses. After readjusting the mask, to
free it from any possible gas I used the method described above.
Nearly an hour had passed. "All clear," came the cry, and again the
hand-siren sounded. The reader cannot imagine the relief with which I
uncovered my face. The men went quietly to their places; it was now
apparent that the real seat of the trouble, whatever it was, had been
located some distance away. In the morning we learned that only a
"trace" of the gas had reached our high ground. The batteries continued
their intense firing, but again we stretched out in our bunks. I had
just covered myself when the warning came again, "Gas! Gas! Gas!" and
for another thirty minutes I stood at attention. But after the second
alarm our relief was permanent. I then made a record of the exact
number of minutes the mask was in service, and turned in, to remain
undisturbed until morning.
This record, for which special charts are provided, is absolutely
essential. The chemical in the British mask (box respirator) is
good for forty-eight hours. The can containing the chemical is then
exchanged for a new one. The mask itself, with proper treatment,
lasts for a long time. While the more quickly adjusted, but far less
reliable, French mask is also carried by our men, the British mask is
chiefly relied upon. It is complete protection against every gas thus
far developed; and the scientific men of the Allies are daily lessening
the fiendish menace of gas. The spirit of the men who face the poison
is expressed by Corporal Harold Hall of Bridgeport, Conn. In a letter
to his mother he says: "We were under a heavy gas for four hours, and,
to tell the truth, I'm glad we were, as I was always afraid of gas. But
now that I've been through a good gas attack I don't fear it at all,
as there is absolutely no danger if a fellow is on the alert and not
careless. Oh, this isn't such a terrible war, after all. We are used to
it, and do not mind it near so much as you people at home do."
When day broke, we learned of the disaster that had overtaken our
lines lower down. The first general gas attack experienced by Americans
since the entry of the United States into the war had been directed
against our sector. In the marshy ground on our right one company had
suffered terribly. Men had died almost instantly; others had been
carried back with little hope of recovery; and for several days a large
number continued to develop the symptoms of the poisoning. Such is
the nature of this fiendish weapon of refined barbarism. For hours it
may hide its deadly sting, and encourage its victim by exertion and
exposure to weaken himself for its final assault. Absolute rest and
protection from the elements are vitally essential in all cases where
this breath of death has found its way into the lungs.
The suffering accompanying and following exposure to gas is too
horrible to describe. Only a people completely committed to the
propositions that the end justifies the means, and that might makes
right, could have conceived the gas attack and first used it as a
weapon against humankind.
My second serious experience with the gas came in a Y. M. C. A. hut
above the ground and farther back. During the shelling incident to a
general raid across our lines we used our masks for some time. The
introduction of gas-shells has made it possible to reach a much wider
area with this fiendish weapon than was the case at the beginning,
when only the trench containers and projectors were used, and
when the wind was relied upon to carry the fumes into the enemy's
positions. Gas-shells are mixed in with shrapnel and high explosives,
and when thus employed are often very deadly. Fired alone, they are
distinguishable because of their peculiar explosive sound; but, when
they are sent over in a general bombardment, the only way to be sure of
escaping them is to use the mask continuously.
Old shell-holes are often death-traps because of the gas that settles
in them. The poison fumes, being heavier than air, will lie for hours,
and under favorable atmospheric conditions for days, in the bottom of
a crater or an abandoned trench. Soldiers seeking shelter in these
holes are trapped. The French commanding officers at one time issued a
general order prohibiting French soldiers from entering shell-holes.
In some instances the "active" portions of the trench system are
cleared of gas with shovels. Soldiers in masks actually _shovel_ the
heavier-than-air poison lying at the bottom of the trenches and filling
the dugouts; they fling it over the parapets, where the air can reach
and disperse it. The shovels have canvas flappers attached, which serve
as fans. Clouds of chlorine gas are also dispersed by the use of a
hypo-solution in a special sprayer.
The writer has a friend who entered a shell-hole near the head of
a communicating trench which ran from a military road to battalion
headquarters. He descended to lay a foundation for a Y. M. C. A. hut,
and was completely overcome as soon as he stooped to begin work. A
gallant French soldier, seeing the danger, leaped into the crater, and,
standing as nearly erect as he could, pulled the unfortunate man to his
feet. He held him there until others came to his assistance. My friend
went to the hospital for three weeks.
Much of the acute pneumonia and pleurisy, and thousands of cases of
tuberculosis, reported among the Allies are superinduced by gas. For
days men doctor persistent colds, only to find at last that the "stuff"
has somewhere scorched them. I had been five days from the front,
and was scores of miles removed from the scene of my last possible
exposure, before my case was pronounced "gas-poisoning." For several
days my "cold" had been increasingly annoying. My lungs were sore, my
throat burned, my vocal chords were affected, and I coughed deeply.
The mucous membrane of the mouth, throat, and nose became painfully
inflamed, and even bled; my head ached constantly, and my eyes on the
sixth day completely crossed. I could not have got more than a touch
of the stuff. I have absolutely no recollection of any particular time
when the thing might have occurred; indeed, I had congratulated myself
that I had been unusually prompt to use my mask and exceedingly careful
to take no chances.
Two months later a thorough examination resulted in the following
report: "Röntgen examination of the thorax showed increased density of
both apices, left more than right; marked thickening of right hilus."
All of which means, according to the obliging man of science, that
the lungs were left with scars as lungs are scarred from pneumonia or
incipient tuberculosis.
In the writer's slight case the depressing nature of the poison because
of its action upon the organs of respiration and the nerve-centres was
particularly noticeable. For weeks I experienced the constant sensation
of smothering, felt "full" and "stuffed," as the proverbial "stuffed
toad" looks. At night, when I could sleep at all, I suffered dreams of
horror, and awoke struggling for a full breath; then always followed
appalling wakefulness. My appetite returned slowly. I was favored with
the best of care, enjoyed a delightful ocean voyage at just the right
time, and had a perfect general physical condition to begin with. I
have the assurance that my glimpse into what so many blessed sons of
the republic must behold with wide-open eyes will leave no permanent
evil after-effects. But it will cause me to see forever the travail of
those who must experience the birth-throes of the new and better world,
and the picture of Democracy's youthful martyrs will not fade from my
eyes while the flowers of memory put forth and bud.
I think of Liberty Bonds now in terms of gas-masks; one fifty-dollar
bond will _almost_ buy _two_ gas-masks!
A driver on a truck or a wagon is especially exposed to the menace
of gas. He is entirely removed from the warnings of the special
gas sentinel, and the noise of his vehicle gives him no chance to
distinguish the peculiar sound of the bursting shell. Down into a bit
of low ground the brave fellow swings; a sudden giddiness seizes him.
He is fortunate indeed if it is only a whiff and he can adjust his mask
before greater disaster overwhelms him.
In general attacks, where gas is extensively used, both sides are
compelled to fight in masks; the attacking foe must enter territory
he has previously drenched with his poison. With a gas-mask on a man
is not more than fifty per cent efficient. In any sort of combat, but
particularly in hand-to-hand fighting, it is a fearful handicap. The
temptation to tear off the mask becomes practically irresistible.
Heroic doctors have been known calmly to lay aside their masks when
with their faces covered they could no longer serve their suffering
charges.
[Illustration: A GAS ATTACK
American soldiers in their trenches wearing gas-masks.
Copyright by Underwood and Underwood, N. Y.]
An enemy constantly strives to deceive its opponents into believing
that gas is about to be used or has been used. If an unhampered raiding
party can find trenches filled with men in masks in the all-important
second when it leaps over the parapet, the success of its venture is
virtually assured. Three days following the first general gas attack
experienced by the American army the first general raid on our lines
came across. Before the raid exactly the same methods were pursued,
and the same demonstrations were made within the German lines that
had preceded this first gas-attack. Many of our lads believed that a
second gassing was imminent, and got into their masks. Just before
the German barrage was lifted from our trench to the territory behind
it, and at the exact time fixed for the starting of the raid, German
patrols sent into No Man's Land shouted in perfect English, "Gas! Gas!"
It was hoped that the Americans would be deceived into believing that
their own patrols were giving the warning and that the raiders would
find themselves confronted by begoggled opponents. In this instance the
strategy completely failed; the raiders were virtually annihilated.
It is interesting to note that in the affair just referred to long
pipes filled with explosives were for the first time used against us
to destroy our barbed wire. These pipes, some of them sixty feet long,
were stealthily shoved under our wire, and at a signal were exploded
simultaneously, with the concentrating of a brief barrage on the wire
entanglements. Large sections of our wire were blown completely out of
the ground.
Riding from London to Glasgow one afternoon, I became acquainted with
a captain of the Black Watch. He was returning from Mesopotamia. For
two years and six months he had been in service without a "leave." He
was counting the miles to Dundee, and his eyes had the light of the
home fires burning in them. We had talked about many things. He had
told me of the death of General Maude, of the capture of Bagdad, and
had given me what he believed to be the reasons for General Townshend's
defeat. Finally I said, "Do you use the gas out there?" and he replied:
"No; we have it ready, but we have never used it. _The Turks are
Christians._ They don't use it."
His answer gives more clearly than any argument I have ever listened
to the statement of the difference between the spirit and programme
of the Central Powers and the spirit and programme of the Allies.
Gas was "made in Germany"; Autocracy and Absolutism are its parents.
Only a stern military necessity has finally forced it as a weapon
into the hands of Democracy. Military _necessity_, I say, for not to
meet gas with gas would be like opposing rapid-fire guns with spears.
The "culture" that ravished Louvain, and that left on the cities of
northern France the scars of rapine and murder that will never out, has
made the air a poison breath.