From: Over the top, by and American Soldier who went, by Arthur Guy Empey.
“Three days after we had silenced Fritz, the Germans sent over gas. It did not catch us unawares, because the wind had been made to order, that is, it was blowing from the German trenches towards ours at the rate of about five miles per hour.
Warnings had been passed down the trench to keep a sharp lookout for gas. We had a new man at the periscope, on this afternoon in question; I was sitting on the fire step, cleaning my rifle, when he called out to me:
”There’s a sort of greenish, yellow cloud rolling along the ground out in front, it’s coming”. But I waited for no more, grabbing my bayonet, which was detached from the rifle, I gave the alarm by banging an empty shell case, which was hanging near the periscope. At the same instant, gongs started ringing down the trench, the signal for Tommy to don his respirator, or smoke helmet, as we call it.
Gas travels quickly, so you must not lose any time ; you generally have about eighteen or twenty seconds in which to adjust your gas helmet.
A gas helmet is made of cloth, treated with chemicals. There are two windows, or glass eyes, in it, through which you can see. Inside there is a rubber-covered tube, which goes in the mouth. You breathe through your nose; the gas, passing through the cloth helmet, is neutralized by the action of the chemicals. The foul air is exhaled through the tube in the mouth, this tube being so constructed that it prevents the inhaling of the outside air or gas. One helmet is good for five hours of the strongest gas. Each Tommy carries two of them slung around his shoulder in a waterproof canvas bag. He must wear this bag at all times, even while sleeping. To change a defective helmet, you take out the new one, hold your breath, pull the old one off, placing the new one over your head, tucking in the loose ends under the collar of your tunic.
For a minute, pandemonium reigned in our trench, — Tommies adjusting their helmets, bombers running here and there, and men turning out of the dugouts with fixed bayonets’, to man the fire step.
Reinforcements were pouring out of the communication trenches.
Our gun crews were busy mounting the machine gun on the parapet and bringing up extra ammunition from the dugout.
German gas is heavier than air and soon fills the trenches and dugouts, where it has been known to lurk for two or three days, until the air is purified by means of large chemical sprayers.
We had to work quickly, as Fritz generally follows the gas with an infantry attack.
A company man on our right was too slow in getting on his helmet; he sank to the ground, clutching at his throat, and after a few spasmodic twistings, went West (died). It was horrible to see him die, but we were powerless to help him. In the corner of a traverse, a little, muddy dog, one of the company’s pets, was lying dead, with his two paws over his nose.
It’s the animals that suffer the most, the horses, mules, cattle, dogs, cats, and rats, they having no helmets to save them. Tommy does not sympathize with rats in a gas attack.
At times, gas has been known to travel, with dire results, fifteen miles behind the lines.
A gas, or smoke helmet, as it is called, at the best is a vile-smelling thing, and it is not long before one gets a violent headache from wearing it.
Our eighteen-pounders were bursting in No Man’s Land, in an effort, by the artillery, to disperse the gas clouds.
The fire step was lined with crouching men, bayonets fixed, and bombs near at hand to repel the expected attack.
Our artillery had put a barrage of curtain fire on the German lines, to try and break up their attack and keep back reinforcements.
I trained my machine gun on their trench and its bullets were raking the parapet.
Then over they came, bayonets glistening. In their respirators, which have a large snout in front, they looked like some horrible nightmare.
All along our trench, rifles and machine guns spoke, our shrapnel was bursting over their heads. They went down in heaps, but new ones took the place of the fallen. Nothing could stop that mad rush. The Germans reached our barbed wire, which had previously been demolished by their shells, then it was bomb against bomb, and the
devil for all.
Suddenly, my head seemed to burst from a loud ”crack” in my ear. Then my head began to swim, throat got dry, and a heavy pressure on
the lungs warned me that my helmet was leaking. Turning my gun over to No. 2, 1 changed helmets.
The trench started to wind like a snake, and sandbags appeared to be floating in the air. The noise was horrible; I sank onto the fire step,
needles seemed to be pricking my flesh, then blackness.
I was awakened by one of my mates removing my smoke helmet. How delicious that cool, fresh air felt in my lungs.
A strong wind had arisen and dispersed the gas.
They told me that I had been ** out “for three hours; they thought I was dead.
The attack had been repulsed after a hard fight. Twice the Germans had gained a foothold in our trench, but had been driven out by counter attacks. The trench was filled with their dead and ours. Through a periscope, I counted eighteen dead Germans in our wire; they were a ghastly sight in their horrible -looking respirators.
I examined my first smoke helmet, a bullet had gone through it on the left side, just grazing my ear, the gas had penetrated through the hole made in the cloth.
Out of our crew of six, we lost two killed and two wounded.
That night we buried all of the dead, excepting those in No Man’s Land. In death there is not much distinction, friend and foe are treated alike.
After the wind had dispersed the gas, the R. A. M. C. got busy with their chemical sprayers, spraying out the dugouts and low parts of the trenches to dissipate any fumes of the German gas which may have been lurking in same.”
Gas: Poisonous fumes which the Germans send over to our trenches. When the wind is favorable this gas is discharged
into the air from huge cylinders. The wind carries it over toward our lines. It appears like a huge yellowish-green cloud rolling along the ground. The alarm is sounded and Tommy promptly puts on his gas helmet and laughs at the Boche.
“Gas Gong. An empty shell case hung up in the trenches and In billets. A sentry is posted near it, so that in case German poison gas comes over, he can give the alarm by striking this gong with an iron bar. If the sentry happens to be asleep we get “gassed.”
“Gassed. A soldier who has been overcome from the fumes of German poison gas, or the hot air of a comrade.”
British Small Box Respirator
One of the most noteworthy gas masks used during WWI was the British Small Box Respirator or SBR designed in 1916. It was probably the most reliable and heavily used gas mask of the war.
The mask was made of thinly rubberized canvas with a canvas-covered rubber hose connecting the mask to a canister, which was all contained in a square bag. The SBR worked by filtering dangerous gases through a canister of charcoal and gauze impregnated with neutralizing chemical agents.
The British small box respirator was first introduced to British soldiers in April 1916, a few months before the Battle of the Somme. By January 1917, it had become the standard issue gas mask for all British soldiers.
When the U.S entered the war in April 1917, they did not have a standard issue gas mask. After evaluating several masks being used by the Allies it was decided to adopt the British small box respirator. It was issued to the first American troops to arrive in France in 1917.