Chapter 18: CWS Overseas An Evaluation
The CWS had much to learn in World War II. The service entered the war as the custodian of one of the most awesome weapons to come
out of World War I. Even while experiencing the diplomatic, political, and military antipathy to gas that was manifest during the years between the wars, many CWS officers, military analysts, and strategists (and many pacifists) believed that gas and air power would rule the next global conflict. When war broke out in Europe gas was not used in spite of the fact that England must have presented a tempting target. This state of affairs affected the CWS in the United States in two ways: the service had to adjust to the idea of preparing for a gas war which might never be fought and for a nongas war which involved missions hitherto either secondary or nonexistent.
The problems of a nongas war, such as was fought in World War II, centered about use of smoke, flame, and incendiaries, natural appendages to the mission of a technical service which dealt largely with the products of the science of chemistry.
The CWS did in fact prepare for both kinds of war. Its staff officers and combat and service units performed usefully, even while fulfilling their insurance roles. To do this, to achieve the goal of effective participation in the war effort, involved ingenuity, resourcefulness, and adaptability of the highest order.
Attendant upon both of these differing objectives was the matter of meeting demands for a rapid expansion, for the activation of new organizations and units, and for the mass production and distribution of new weapons and materials. The CWS, like other elements of the Armed Forces, received resources of men and money undreamed of in the difficult years through which it had just passed. In 1940 the CWS had an active strength of 93 officers and 1,035 enlisted men; in 1943 these figures were 8,103 and 61,688. Within the space of these three years the civilian rolls increased twentyfold. Appropriations for 1940 were just over two million dollars; two years later they exceeded one
billion. This transition from famine to feast was not an easy one to make. The development and efficient management of programs to provide for the greatly expanded mission of the CWS involved many problems, not the least of which, according to General Porter, was the effective use of all the money allotted to the service. It was necessary to balance funds against priority schedules and limited allocations of men, materials, storage space, and transportation.
The CWS branches established by the Army in each of the overseas areas of war operations also dealt with problems of priorities and allocations. But the CWS overseas, perhaps even more than the CWS at home, felt the full impact of preparing for a kind of war which was not being fought while contributing significantly to the war which was being fought.
Administration and Manpower
Among other things the CWS in World War II had to learn about the character, structure, and channels of overseas organizations. In spite of between-the-wars planning and training, the CWS on the eve of conflict was essentially as unprepared to form its overseas branches as it was for waging gas warfare. Part of this difficulty was the lack of manpower—there were not enough senior officers even to form the nuclei of several theater of operations staff sections. So it was that Colonel Copthorne went to SWPA without the support of even one other Regular officer. Only two other Regulars supported Colonel Unmacht in the Hawaiian Department. The European theater was deprived of all but three of its senior CWS officers to make their experience available for the North African forces. While nearly all of the leading CWS officers in the United States and overseas—Porter, Waitt, Rowan, Copthorne, and Shadle—highly praised the energy, resourcefulness, and intelligence of Reserve and temporary officers, most of these emergency officers, during the critical phase of the formulation of overseas organizations, were inexperienced and they lacked a knowledge of current policies and plans. It is a tribute to the Reserve and temporary officers that they learned so quickly and performed so well.
A part of CWS unpreparedness to establish overseas branches stemmed from the changes imposed upon the Army by global warfare. It became impossible to have the direct communication with the
OCCWS which many officers had expected. It became necessary to deal with the Allies, to act within the framework of international policy. Although acting within this framework, most overseas chemical officers, with the notable exception of Shadle, found themselves set apart from the Allied agencies, operating even below the joint Army-Navy-Army Air Forces level, at the level of the Army supply services. Even in Shadle’s case, his presence in an Allied headquarters isolated him to some extent from the field agencies and to a greater extent from the War Department. Furthermore, there was the necessary but nevertheless restrictive requirement for OCCWS to deal formally with its overseas branches through ASF and OPD.
The lack of administrative preparedness was also due in part to the fact that the CWS did not “fit” into the organizational patterns of World War II. The service was in the anomalous position of being both a supply and technical service; an organization which furnished staff advice, conceivably even in tactical and strategic fields; a service legally responsible for .firing-line units; and a service equipped to do research in the field. Most of the other technical services had a similar range of responsibilities, but none was spread so thin, none had combat units primarily equipped with their own weapons; moreover, all other services had supply and service support as a primary mission. World War II organizational doctrine tended to categorize activities into those of “service” or those of “combat.” The CWS overseas never succeeded in persuading some field commanders that its activities and units, even front-line smoke generator units, were not in the supply and service category.
In the face of such determined categorization, most CWS overseas branches worked outside or on the fringes of the official organization. The CWS in each area or theater became highly individualistic. In the European theater Rowan used his personal persuasion with command and staff elements and his close personal ties with other CWS officers to maintain a unity of service and accomplish his mission. He and his subordinates, insofar as they were able, operated their own administrative system, their own intelligence activity, their own technical and liaison organization, and their own supply service. Such independence was possible only because the European theater and theater Communications Zone headquarters permitted and even encouraged it. The
ASF inspectors did not approve of this independence, but without it the CWS ETO could not have accomplished its missions.
The CWS administrative effort overseas most nearly like that in the European theater was in the Central Pacific Area. There Colonel Unmacht vigorously asserted CWS independence with the active concurrence and support of first the senior Army headquarters and later the combined and joint Pacific Ocean Areas headquarters. Unmacht was the only overseas chief chemical officer who also commanded CWS troops other than the theater or area laboratory company. Unmacht was also the only overseas chief chemical officer who was specifically designated to coordinate and compile a joint Army, Army Air Forces, and Navy gas warfare plan although Rowan, as Porter’s representative, and Copthorne, on temporary duty in GHQ SWPA, participated in both combined and joint planning while Shadle, as a staff officer in a combined headquarters, had advisory functions in the joint and combined field. Unmacht and his subordinates certainly maintained a very close connection between research and development and the firing line even to the extent of carrying on research, development, and manufacture in the theater of operations.
Colonel Copthorne in SWPA likewise saw that new developments reached combat chemical officers, but he did so in a different manner from that of either Rowan or Unmacht. Copthorne and his CWS colleagues had far fewer resources than did the CWS branches in Europe or the Central Pacific; they did not have as close a relationship with the combined and joint headquarters; and they had to contend with the considerable problems of enormous distances and a tropical environment. Copthorne could not, therefore, unify his service and assert its independence in the same way that Rowan and Unmacht did, but he could coordinate his services by providing the mechanisms for understanding and common effort among field and rear area chemical officers. These mechanisms were area and even theater-wide conferences, the creation of a centralized area training facility, the provision of centralized technical intelligence activities, and a continued emphasis on the problems of chemical warfare in the tropics. Copthorne and the field chemical officers in SWPA operated in greater isolation from the CWS in the United States and even from their colleagues in their own area than did other chemical officers overseas. Their solutions to problems, except for the determination of tropical gas warfare doc-
trine in which they cooperated with the CWS in the United States, were ordinarily their own. Consequently, field army, corps, and division chemical officers in SWPA acted as independently as did their colleagues anywhere else in the world, and, with one exception, they operated through a wider range of chemical responsibilities. This is not to say that they did more and better work than their colleagues elsewhere, but that they did have a more varied experience in the chemical field.
The only elements having just as great a variety of chemical experience were to be found in the field armies in North Africa, Sicily, and Italy. Since Shadle preferred to emphasize his own staff role and to give field elements their head, Colonels Barker and Guild in Fifth Army and Colonel Humphreville in Seventh Army found themselves, again by their own preference, operating a CWS of their own. Barker and Coblentz, in a unique partnership, carried on development and manufacture and operated their own supply system. As a result, there was less coordination and unity in the CWS in the North African and Mediterranean theater than elsewhere in the world, but again the required job was done. The much lesser threat of gas warfare in the Mediterranean area made it particularly appropriate to accomplish the CWS administrative task differently there.
In summary of the worldwide CWS administrative experience, it can be said that every overseas branch of the CWS surveyed found some means of creating a service that accorded with the concepts held by Fries and Porter. The lot of the chemical technician in what was supposed to be a technician’s war was not an easy one, but the chemical technician managed to do what he was called on to do by dint of much improvisation and ingenuity.
Logistics
In logistics, as in administration, the CWS branches overseas dealt with the two problems of gas warfare supply and nongas warfare supply. Also as in administration, each CWS overseas branch created its own supply system according to geographical environment and according to the kind of combat forces to be supported in its area. In the European theater, where the build-up of forces and materials went on for nearly two years before the attack, there was time to develop
for chemical supply a system of centralized CWS control over a decentralized operation.
The sophisticated CWS ETO credit system of distribution, while by no means original with the CWS, was admirably suited to a small service handling only a small number of fast-moving items. Since a combat commander using this system could ask for materials credited to his organization when and where convenient, the system gave the combat commander control over the forward movement of supplies. The big stumbling block was in having supplies ready for call. The CWS ETO distribution system, through no basic fault of the system itself, tended to break down when supplies were unavailable or when depots and dumps could not be organized and stocked as desired. When strains were put on the system, General Rowan and all of his subordinates, often acting informally, jumped in to make the system function by obtaining and moving supplies. Aided by such application of energy at all levels, the CWS ETO supply system for the most part did manage to carry on. Supply failures or near failures arose in connection with mortar shells, incendiary bombs, and spare parts, but in each case the trouble was that materials were unavailable in the United States. And in each case of failure or near failure the CWS ETO was able to make adjustments which at least eased matters.
CWS ETO supply problems were slightly easier to handle because that theater had the most men and facilities. Distances were shorter and transportation, while nearly always in critical demand, was more plentiful than elsewhere in the world. North Africa was quite another story in this respect. Distances were great and existing road and rail nets were few and poor. These natural drawbacks, the inexperience of the Army in global supply at this early stage, and enemy submarine and air warfare helped shape the CWS NATOUSA supply system. The independence and isolation of CWS elements in the theater also had an effect. Base sections and combat organization chemical officers created their own supply system which eventually became the “impetus from the front” system. What materials Colonels Barker and Coblentz could not get from the theater SOS or from the United States, they manufactured or reclaimed. When necessary the combat organization chemical officers reinforced their requests for materials through command channels. General Shadle meanwhile handled the “impetus from the rear” supply system and did his part in fighting the battles of overages
and shortages. Both CWS NATOUSA—MTOUSA supply systems worked, but only because the chemical officers made them work against considerable odds.
CWS SWPA officers were able to make their supply system work in the face of even greater odds. Enormous distances, chronic shortages of transportation and communications facilities, and the almost unbelievable deterioration of materials in the tropical environment plagued them from the time combat began. For at least the first half of the war they could rely on the economy of neither the United States nor Australia to furnish enough materials in usable condition. They were hampered by low priorities and force-level allocations which did not permit building up area reserves. Again, improvisation and ingenuity provided the answers. Again, items were built, reclaimed, and rebuilt through area efforts. In SWPA the area SOS and even GHQ stepped in to provide procedures for forward organization and transportation. Eventually, as more ships and more equipment became available all over the globe, the United States provided ships block-loaded for balanced resupply of combat forces. Area supply problems, while still difficult, became a simple matter of computing necessary block loads, of receiving, handling, and maintaining the materials in these loads.
The War Department policy restricting the build-up of area reserves threatened to become a CWS problem in POA just as in SWPA, but shortages did not become critical because anticipated demands were larger than actual demands and because Hawaiian Department resources were large enough to allow for improvisations and substitutions. In POA combat supply, transport space allocation and loading were carefully controlled by the area joint headquarters. The POA CWS soon learned to work within the joint system, and the result, admittedly under relatively ideal circumstances, was the smoothest CWS supply operation of World War II.
Excepting the supply of toxics, which was a preparedness matter, the CWS managed to accomplish its major logistics mission. The overseas branches displayed enough ingenuity to prevent any of the supply shortages, except for spare parts, from becoming more than temporarily critical. Yet, there is little doubt that more supplies would have been used had the CWS been able to furnish them sooner and in greater quantities. For example, no area anywhere in the world was ever provided with enough chemical mortar shells. More mortars could have
been employed in most cases. Demands for white phosphorus grenades were frequently not met, and probably many more power-driven decontaminating apparatus could have been used for carrying water, providing showers, and the like. POA experience indicates that a flame-throwing tank could have been extensively employed if it had been possible to provide an adequate model at an early date.
Many more CWS service units could also have been employed. The CWS overseas could have used more maintenance units in the field, and experience demonstrates that chemical laboratories could easily have become general-purpose overseas research and development agencies. More decontaminating units could have been used in general services work, and more processing companies could have been doing laundry and dry cleaning.
The use of CWS units and materials in secondary missions raised the question of whether it was indeed a CWS function to furnish equipment and units for these missions and whether it would have been practical and reasonable to provide them had they been available. World War H experience does not give definite answers to these questions or to the corollary and perhaps overriding question of whether the CWS should have had any logistics functions overseas. All the other technical services were larger and all had established logistics procedures. The Quartermaster Corps handled impregnated clothing and protective covers: why should it not handle all protective items? Quartermaster provided bath and laundry units: why should it not provide all such services? Ordnance stored and issued vast quantities of ammunition including, in some areas, chemical toxics: why should that service not handle all ammunition items? The Corps of Engineers provided and employed heavy equipment, like the chemical decontaminating apparatus and commercial gases: why should it not provide all such equipment and the attendant services?
The tentative answer, based on World War II experience is, as Fries found in World War I, that these services were already overburdened with their responsibilities and were unable or unwilling to handle the detailed problems connected with chemical supply and service. The antigas impregnation of clothing is a highly technical and even hazardous process. The Quartermaster Corps in all areas was willing to work out a cooperative arrangement with the CWS for handling protective clothing, but it was unwilling to undertake the impregnating
task. Since the CWS had the impregnating units, it would have been grossly wasteful not to use them, in the absence of gas warfare, to help Quartermaster with its laundry and dry cleaning. It would likewise have been wasteful not to use the decontaminating units and apparatus, which the other services would have been hard pressed to employ in event of gas warfare, in any way possible to improve the comfort or well-being of troops in the field. Ammunition supply was a thorny problem which at least some CWS officers felt should have been handled by Ordnance, particularly since the CWS frequently found gas warfare preparedness and planning a full time mission, and some chemical officers did persuade their Ordnance colleagues to handle it. In most cases, however, Ordnance had enough to do in supplying the artillery and the infantry without also handling a relatively few grenades and smoke and mortar shells. The chemical items also posed technical problems. Potentially explosive smoke pots could not be safely stored with other ordnance items, and leaking toxic munitions required expert attention. In the European theater, in SWPA, and in the Mediterranean area, these technical problems led Ordnance to turn over much of its toxic storage responsibility to CWS. In POA the toxic storage mission was officially transferred to CWS. In sum, the answer to the question of functions and responsibilities seemed to be that, since the CWS had to be overseas to guide preparations for gas warfare, there was no reason why it should not perform related secondary tasks, particularly when training and equipment permitted CWS units to accomplish certain of these tasks more expeditiously than units of its sister services.
The Weapons
The development of the large area smoke mission during World War II can be traced with greater precision than can that of most munitions. The need for concealment of extensive targets in rear areas arose in World War I with the introduction of bomber aircraft. In the period between the wars Chemical Warfare Service attempts to develop a way to conceal vulnerable rear area targets were made meaningful by the growing increase in the range of airplanes and by the development of the air arm of the Navy. But the CWS was generally unsuccessful in these attempts—means were not on hand for the production of smoke in needed amounts. And covering a target with too
little smoke did nothing more, of course, than attract an enemy bombardier’s attention.
Early in 1942 the CWS produced smoke apparatus which met the necessary requirements, the M1 mechanical generator which created an artificial fog not by combustion but by the condensation of water and oil. Its principal drawback was its 3,000-pound weight and its awkward size. The small, compact M2 model, which appeared in 1944, overcame both of these handicaps.
Smoke generator companies first saw overseas action in Northwest Africa, providing screens for the ports through which flowed the men and material for the fight against Rommel’s and other German forces. In this capacity, there still prevailed the basic mission of the large area screen—concealment of rear area targets from observation. The smoke installation at Naples, the largest of the war, also concealed a vital harbor from the bombers of the Luftwaffe. But at about this point in the conflict the smoke units were given a new mission, which, by the end of the war, was to assume paramount importance. There were two reasons for this change in emphasis. As the war progressed the Allies gradually won control of the air, a circumstance which diminished the need for rear area concealment. At the same time American troops were fighting up the boot of Italy, always, it seemed, in the face of superior German observation. As a consequence, smoke units freed from rear area duty were shifted to the forward zones.
An effective employment of this kind of smoke screen in Italy was somewhat hampered by bulk and weight of the M1 generator. Smoke troops in France and Germany were spared this difficulty for they had the compact M2 generator in time to use it in support of the crossings of the many rivers which lay between the Americans and eventual victory.
This is not to imply that the transition from rear area to forward area operation was easy and uncomplicated. There were lessons to be learned by both the supporting and the supported units and tactics and techniques had to be developed for the rather radical change of arenas. Not the least challenge was the need for smoke troops, whose duties changed almost overnight from rear support to action in the foremost areas of the combat zone, to adapt themselves to their new role.
The 4.2-inch mortar brought the World War II infantryman into
closer contact with the CWS than did perhaps anything else. The splendid reputation of this weapon depended on a mission change dictated by uncertainty over the possibility of gas warfare. Originally designed to fire toxic chemicals and smokes, the mortar would have been rather expensive insurance in a gasless war. The logical step, of course, was the addition of the high explosive mission. Chemical mortar battalions thereby filled a dual capacity: they stood ready in the event of the introduction of gas warfare by the enemy, and they supported infantry units with smoke and high explosive. Although the gas warfare readiness of the mortar units never received the test of battle, there can be no doubt about the successful accomplishment of the second mission. Few in number and greatly overworked, the chemical mortar battalions served as the infantry commander’s hip pocket artillery, capable of placing accurate and heavy fire upon targets within a range of 4,000-5,000 yards. The limited number of units (as late as December 1944 there were only four with the 12th Army Group) , meant that they continued in the line while a succession of supported units was relieved. Infantry divisions would come and go but the mortar units seemed part of the terrain.
The CWS in World War H had mixed success with flame throwers, the portable as well as the mechanized. With regard to the mechanized model there was some indecision on the part of the using arm as to the characteristics, indeed as to the very necessity, for such a specialized vehicle. Moreover, in no other field of CWS endeavor was there so little liaison between the users in the field and the developers in the zone of interior. Because of this lack of liaison and because of available facilities and vigorous CWS people in Hawaii, the mechanized flame thrower support in at least one Pacific area came principally from local sources, not from the United States. And this support resulted in the most effective combat employment of the mechanized flame thrower in the war.
The war against Japan also saw the most effective use of the portable flame thrower. Reasons for the usefulness of flame weapons in the Pacific are not hard to find. American forces found themselves confronted by a stubborn enemy who was taught to believe that death for the Emperor was something worthy of aspiration. This kind of enemy ensconced in skillfully constructed fortifications would not be routed by artillery and mortar fire. Quite often the flame thrower, capable
of delivering a lethal stream of fire through narrow apertures, was the only effective weapon for use against these formidable defenses. It must also be remembered that much of the fighting in the early days of the Pacific war took place in jungle terrain, and the resulting concealment enabled the operator to carry his bulky, easily recognized portable flame thrower much closer to the enemy without being observed. Credit must be given to CWS staff officers and service troops who, by the formulation of tactical doctrine and by the application of maintenance procedures, were instrumental in making the portable model the effective munition it was.
The war against Germany was a different story, for neither the mechanized nor the portable flame throwers contributed much to that phase of the conflict. European battlefields and German defenses were often typified by excellent fields of fire which boded ill for the relatively short range of both types of flame weapon. In Europe, unlike in the Pacific, no situation ever arose wherein the flame weapon provided a vital key in overcoming the enemy. Consequently, there was no impetus for overcoming the weapon’s initial drawbacks—short range, lack of tactical doctrine, problems of maintenance, and the lack of knowledge on the part of the using arms.
The incendiary bomb had the distinction of being one of the most effective munitions employed strategically by United States forces in World War II. Ranging from a compact 4-pound, metallic model to an oil-filled 500-pounder, these bombs, developed and procured by the CWS and employed by the Army Air Forces, wrought almost unparalleled destruction. The fire bomb, the tactical corollary of the incendiary, proved effective when dropped by fighter-bomber aircraft on a variety of targets in the forward areas.
The Army Air Forces expended nearly a quarter-million incendiary and fire bombs on German and Japanese targets. The accounts of the devastation resulting from incendiary missions leave no doubt as to the important part played by these munitions in achieving Allied victory. Because of a long-standing faith in high explosives and because of defects in some of the early bombs, the Air Forces was slow to accept the new munition. Indeed, it was not until the last six months of the war that the aerial incendiary really came into its own. Back of this record were two important factors. First, the stress of war eliminated certain peacetime lethargies and led to the development
of some good, even ingenious, incendiary bombs. And second, courageous operational leadership, exemplified by the role of General LeMay, proved beyond all doubt the importance of the aerial incendiary.
To attempt to select the most important reason for Japan’s capitulation is to tread uncertain ground. Many factors were involved, the atomic explosions over Hiroshima and Nagasaki being by far the most spectacular. Yet, the testimony of Japanese leaders and the mute evidence of her burned-out cities certainly point to the incendiary campaign of the XXI Bomber Command as an important element in the defeat of Japan.
Readiness for Gas Warfare
There is no easy measurement for CWS overseas accomplishments in gas warfare preparedness since plans, men, and materials were not put to the test. It is possible to assess the factors upon which chemical officers during World War II believed preparedness depended. The first of these factors was an administrative and organizational pattern which would have permitted chemical officers to function in all their areas of interest from tactical and strategic advice to decontamination service in the field.
Administratively and organizationally the CWS was only partially prepared for gas warfare. In Europe, while the chief chemical officer held a staff position under the theater commander, he did not have a position in the supreme tactical and strategic headquarters, SHAEF. Colonel St. John’s presence in SHAEF would have helped so far as the function of providing advice is concerned, but his lack of a direct and formal channel to the chief chemical officer might have proved a handicap. The informal relationship which existed between Rowan and the air chemical officers and between Rowan and the United States Navy officers with interests in the chemical field would probably have served as a basis for cooperative effort among the U.S. forces.
General Shadle, from his position in the combined headquarters, AFHQ, would have been able to coordinate both Allied and American gas warfare activities in the Mediterranean area. Colonel Copthorne in SWPA would undoubtedly have had a tough problem in making the necessary expansion into USAFFE and GHQ since he lacked the required staff and since his relationships with the Allies and even
the Army Air Forces and the U.S. Navy were informal and tenuous at the best.
Colonel Unmacht, enjoying the confidence and support of his Army commander, and from 1943 as official coordinator of POA chemical planning for all forces, would have been in as good a position as Shadle’s. Unmacht’s drawback would have been his lack of staff officers.
In all areas, army group, army, corps, and division, chemical officers would in most cases have been ready for the administrative load of gas warfare. Only the advent of such warfare could have tested Rowan’s contention that the secondary and unrelated tasks performed in the absence of gas warfare would in most instances lessen the readiness and effectiveness of the chemical staff officers. It would probably have been necessary to augment chemical sections at all levels, but it seems likely that officers and men of other arms and services could have been diverted from tasks of lower priority in the case of gas warfare. Below the division level the inauguration of gas warfare would likely have resulted in a wild scramble to select, train, and retrain unit gas officers and unit gas noncommissioned officers, but, in view of the fact that nearly every soldier received some gas warfare training, the roster should soon have been filled. More chemical mortar battalions and chemical service units would certainly have been required, but, assuming a high priority for gas warfare activities and the availability of equipment, other units could have been converted, possibly in a matter of days, probably in a matter of weeks. Areas having a lesser variety of units and a smaller total strength would have been hard put to find units for conversion since the advent of gas warfare would probably have intensified rather than lessened other forms of combat.
The second factor regarded by chemical officers as basic in gas warfare preparedness—training—was from the CWS point of view the least difficult preparedness activity to handle. The theater school in Europe, the area CWS school in SWPA, the army schools in the Mediterranean area, and Unmacht’s series of courses in POA provided chemical training for thousands of soldiers. Most of these trainees would have required refresher courses were it not for the fact that, as a senior technical services officer told a chemical officer in Europe, soldiers learn fast and remember well when their lives depend on learning. These area schools and combat and service organization schools could have been quickly expanded with a minimum of effort,
because most CWS officers and men, at least in the combat organization chemical sections, had some experience in conducting chemical training. Since few chemical officers ever believed they had been allotted enough training time, most had prepared short courses which they were ready to present in almost any location on almost no notice.
The third factor in preparedness—intelligence—was one which presented many difficulties. There had been no active Army intelligence agency in the United States before World War II. The Office of the Assistant Chief, WDGS, G—2, was so restricted that it could not even begin to meet the demands for all sorts of technical intelligence until late in the war. By that time the technical services had trained and sent out their own teams or had, like Colonel Copthorne, activated teams overseas. These teams and combat chemical officers did an outstanding job of collecting enemy equipment, and the various theater and area laboratories produced complete analyses. The indications were that the enemy, both Germans and Japanese, were defensively well prepared. Direct evidence of German or Japanese intentions on use of gas was lacking.
While technical intelligence was well done, it was not enough. Only the British and the U.S. Office of Strategic Services were able to gather more direct information. Their reports were useful but fragmentary, incomplete, and misleading. There were rumors of a new German gas, but neither British or Americans even guessed at the composition, toxicity, and possible means of employment of the German organo-phosphate compounds, the so-called G or nerve agents, until some toxic munitions were captured at the close of the war. The intelligence agencies reported stocks of German toxics in France before the invasion, but none were found until Allied troops reached the German homeland. In sum, the enemy never discovered Allied intentions and the Allies never discovered enemy intentions. It was cold comfort to CWS officers to know at the end of the war that enemy intelligence was no better than American.
Planning was the fourth factor bearing on gas warfare preparedness. The early theater gas warfare plans, required by the War Department in December 1942, were poor because not enough was then known about the character of World War II fighting to make adequate plans, and because materials and chemical units had not yet been provided in sufficient quantity to form a basis for planning. In the next two years
the plans became detailed and specific, and in most areas they originated in or were approved by the highest Allied headquarters. Plans were therefore comprehensive. These theater plans almost never reached or were known to chemical officers in the field. It is consequently not possible to judge whether field chemical officers believed the plans could be carried out in event of gas warfare. Since some plans, like those in POA, actually identified target areas and since the logistics and operational requirements were carefully checked by overseas staffs and OCCWS, it seems probable that plans were both realistic and feasible. But, however good the plans were, they were only as good as the supply of gas munitions for retaliation.
Supply was the fifth and probably most important factor in gas warfare preparedness. After the first year of the war the supply of gas masks was ample in all areas of the world. That supply improved further with the provision of the new lightweight mask late in 1943 and early in 1944. The CWS produced enough protective clothing in the United States or overseas to furnish reasonable protection by late 1943 Protective clothing resupply, especially in SWPA, could have been delivered by air only through high priority, but such priority could probably have been obtained. Even had delivery been slow in coming, all units could have re-impregnated their own clothing in the field in an emergency. Collective protection and decontamination would probably have been inadequate according to World War II standards, but some CWS officers, including General Porter, maintained that the standard was unrealistically high. In the opinion of these officers, it would have been necessary to bypass areas heavily contaminated with persistent gases in any case, so that the need for decontamination would be confined to strategic roads, airfields, and supply points.
The supply of toxic agents overseas admittedly amounted only to token quantities. At the time of President Roosevelt’s 1942 pronouncement, his threatened swift retaliation for enemy initiation of gas warfare would have been impossible. The fourteen days of aerial toxic munitions in Europe after the fall of 1943 represented a substantial first-strike capability, but for resupply, air delivery on high priority would have been necessary. By the time of the Rapido and Winter Line operations in Italy early in 1944, the U.S. forces possessed enough toxic munitions to lay alternate bands of persistent and nonpersistent gases most of the way across the Italian peninsula. Again, resupply
would have been by air. In the Pacific areas first-strike capabilities were even lower—with toxic munitions supplies in POA equal to an attack on an area the size of Iwo Jima and in SWPA to but five days’ operation. Porter and Waitt, along with USCWS officers, were confident that these token amounts would have served for initial retaliation and that aircraft and fast ships could have created a resupply pipeline. Under their plan, stocks in the United States would have sustained the overseas offensive until new stocks could have been built up. They calculated that U.S. enemies would not have been able to initiate gas warfare on all fronts at the same time, and that gas warfare initiated in the Pacific could have been confined to a small area for a considerable period.
Why Gas Was Not Used
Why was gas not used in World War II? To pin down all the reasons is difficult if not impossible. Some of the factors were not constant; they underwent alterations as the war progressed and situations changed. Different factors affected different nations.
The principal factor deterring the United States from initiating gas warfare was clearly national policy. Although the United States was not a party to any international agreement outlawing gas warfare, its policy throughout World War II was set in precise terms. Twice during the early years of the conflict President Roosevelt categorically stated that the United States would use gas only in retaliation against an enemy nation using it. This statement by the President and Commander in Chief became the official United States position throughout the war. The United States policy on gas was, in fact, largely determined by the deep feeling of its President about that particular kind of warfare.1
But other elements enter the picture. Notwithstanding the tremendous influence of President Roosevelt and his predominant place in policy and decision making, military leaders would have presented arguments in rebuttal had they entertained any deep-seated doubt as to the wisdom of the Presidential point of view. But, with the
exception of minor stirrings near the end of the war, gas warfare had no advocates in high places.
Military reluctance began with the experience of the AEF in World War I. Despite the excellent leadership of General Fries, it would appear that many of the higher unit staffs and commanders placed little reliance on the gas arm, in sharp contrast to their German, British, and French counterparts. Incidents demonstrating the reluctance of some unit commanders to employ gas for fear of retaliation and the possible injury to friendly troops have already been related. A survey of the records of First Army indicate that a real understanding of the use of gas, particularly persistent, did not occur until late in the war. For example, the initial First Army field order for the St. Mihiel operation included no gas plan whatsoever. And although First Army used gas effectively in the Meuse-Argonne fighting, there is nothing in the records to indicate that its corps and divisions were aware of an over-all plan.2
It will be remembered that in the fight for a permanent CWS, General Fries found support in Congress, industry, and civil servants—not in the Army. Generals Pershing and March both opposed the creation of a chemical service. There is no evidence to suggest that top commanders ever acquired much faith in gas warfare. In fact, it is hard to believe that the War Department in the period between the wars would have reduced CWS activities to those of a primarily defensive nature had it had faith in gas warfare.
Another factor to be considered in reviewing American gas warfare policy is the part played by public opinion. There can be no doubt that gas warfare emerged from World War I with the reputation of a horror weapon even when field experience did not substantiate this view. Although reasons for this reputation are varied, one source of opprobrium could very well have been the Allied propaganda program waged against the German introduction of large-scale gas warfare. The pros and cons on gas were also debated at the time of the two international conventions of the 1920s which considered its status in the realm of international law. While that status was not officially determined as far as the United States was concerned, the deliberations
within these conventions could hardly have been without influence in a world turning toward pacifism. Little evidence has yet been produced to show that public opinion actually was a positive force contrary to gas warfare, but the important thing is that public opinion was believed to be contrary to gas warfare. President Roosevelt, usually an astute judge of the public temper and a leader of public opinion, certainly encountered no widespread opposition to his pronouncements on gas warfare.
Whatever the reasons, American military leaders paid little attention to gas in World War II. In the early years of the war, it would have been an unwise risk because the enemy had been on a wartime footing much longer and had a trump card in air superiority. Besides, two decades of neglect could not be undone overnight, and the American wherewithal for offensive gas warfare was slim, indeed. Later, when the tide turned in favor of the Allies, it seemed unnecessary to introduce gas. The war was being won without it. The greatest pause for reflection on the employment of gas took place after the series of costly American victories in the war against Japan. Use of gas was contemplated to overcome stubborn Japanese defenses and thus reduce American assault casualties, but the war ended before any positive action arose.3
The British gas policy during the war was based on the same principle as that of the United States—retaliation. In the early days of the conflict, the lack of an offensive capability and the predominance of the Luftwaffe (and consequent vulnerability of British cities) permitted no alternative to this policy. Britain would have been unlikely to change her policy as long as German air attacks continued on England. These attacks were followed, after the Luftwaffe became ineffective, by German missile bombardment nearly to the end of 1944- By this time the Allies had long been on the offensive. Apparently many British military leaders shared the idea common among the belligerents that gas was a weapon to be used only in defensive or static operations. Even had commanders welcomed the employment of gas in the assault, its use would have brought further strains upon the overburdened British economy. While gas defensive preparations improved in the United Kingdom throughout the war and while she maintained a small retaliatory capacity to complement that of the
United States, all-out gas warfare would have required significantly increased effort. Furthermore, the British, who had ratified the Geneva Protocol and had reaffirmed this stand in 1939, felt that international agreement prohibited their initiation of gas warfare.
Although Germany had no policy prohibiting the employment of gas warfare during World War II, there was a strong trend of official opinion against German initiation of gas warfare. This trend was based on several constant factors and a series of factors which arose from appraisals of Germany’s situation during various periods of the war.
The constant factors were: (1) Hitler had a personal antipathy to gas warfare; (2) the military High Command and the field commanders devoted their attention to strategy, tactics, and weapons which excluded gas warfare; (3) the High Command believed that international public opinion would be outraged should Germany become a gas warfare aggressor in contravention of international agreements. Given the Axis record, it is doubtful that the public opinion factor would have had much weight in a decision not to wage gas warfare had the military situation been favorable to its use.
At no time during World War II, in the opinion of the German military leaders, was the situation favorable for the initiation of gas warfare. In the early period of the war when both ground and aerial blitzkrieg tactics were so successful, gas warfare either would have hampered the German advance or would have posed technical and logistical problems which Germany was not then prepared to face. Later, when Germany was forced into the defensive, the use of gas would have been decidedly to Germany’s advantage, especially in the defense of the continental coast. But by this time (1944–45) the Allies had air superiority, and German leaders feared decisive retaliation in kind against the German homeland. The Germans estimated correctly, as a captured German general told General Shadle, that Allied, and particularly American, defensive equipment was far superior to the German (Germany had no large stock of protective clothing, for example) . The Germans apparently overestimated Allied offensive capabilities, and they apparently believed that the Allies, like themselves, had discovered new gases. In both stages of the conflict, logistics played an important part in the German decision not to wage gas warfare. Early in the war, Germany had neither gases nor gas troops
in any appreciable quantities. Later in the war, the toxic stockpile was adequate for defensive action, but the transportation and communications systems were strained to the point of collapse, and on some occasions did break down. Also, it was questionable whether overburdened German industry could manufacture gases rapidly enough and in sufficient quantity to sustain gas warfare both offensively and defensively on all fronts.
As in the case of Germany, the reasons for the failure of Japan to initiate gas warfare in World War II are varied and complex. There was no moral compunction on the part of the Japanese for not using gas; they had used it in isolated cases against the Chinese. Early in the war, forging ahead against little resistance, the Japanese had no reason to use gas. When the Japanese began to experience reverses, they did so in areas which could well have called for gas warfare; mustard gas would have been appropriate for use by troops retreating through a jungle terrain. But by this time the Japanese faced enormous shipping problems. A logistical system which failed to provide food for Japanese troops in New Guinea could hardly have supported gas warfare. Later, the predominance of American air power must have been another factor in Japan’s decision not to resort to gas. Japanese civilians were ill prepared to defend themselves against gas attacks, and B-29s on the Marianas were within easy range of the homeland. Although early in the conflict the Japanese had the resources and facilities for producing war gases, these diminished as the years wore on. After the war U.S. investigators found that the Japanese were poorly prepared for modern large-scale chemical warfare, offensive or defensive. Rather limited amounts of war gases were on hand.
Had Allied intelligence been able to divine the intentions of the Germans and Japanese, a large portion of Allied preparations for gas warfare might have been abandoned. On the other hand, if the Allies had been any less prepared than they were, the Germans might have used—and General Bradley felt that this would have been decisive—a light sprinkling of persistent gas on OMAHA Beach. Although lacking sustained offensive capability, the Japanese could have put an equally decisive sprinkling of mustard on the approaches to Buna and Gona or on the Lingayen beaches. If the Japanese had not believed their homeland vulnerable to gas, they might have launched a kamikaze gas attack on the storm-battered U.S. Navy force off Okinawa. It is
therefore probable that United States gas warfare preparedness in World War II was worth the effort. Certainly the nongas warfare efforts of the CWS justified the activities of the service. The incendiary bomb was the mainstay of the aerial assault on the Japanese homeland. In acknowledgment of its contribution, the chemical mortar became an infantry weapon following the war. Artificial smoke often proved a great boon in Korea, and the Marine Corps entered the Korean battles with World War II CWS flame tanks assembled in Hawaii. General Porter sums up the World War II CWS experience by saying that the CWS maintained a strong service which contributed to the war effort everywhere—from the laboratory to the fighting line. The “Chemicals in Combat” did their job so well that in 1946 the service was redesignated the United States Army Chemical Corps and fully accepted by the Military Establishment.
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