TIME: Almanac 1993/TIME Almanac 1993.iso/time/022591/0225997.000

Text File | 1992-08-28 | 7.5 KB | 152 lines

                                                                                THE GULF WAR, Page 47

WEAPONS

Coping with Chemicals


Though frightening, an Iraqi assault with poison gas or
biological agents might not be as ghastly as its potential
victims imagine

By LISA BEYER -- Reported by Frank Melville/London, Dick
Thompson/ Dhahran and Bruce van Voorst/Washington


    Just one whiff of mustard gas can sear the lining of a
soldier's lungs and cause large, painful blisters to form on
his face and body. Only a tiny drop of the nerve gas Tabun will
make a stricken combatant twitch and convulse; then his lungs
will fill with liquid, and his diaphragm will collapse, causing
suffocation. A dose of inhaled anthrax spores will bring on
hemorrhaging, then shock and very likely death.

    Such is the hell of chemical and biological warfare. Like
most nightmares, however, an unconventional Iraqi assault on
the allied forces might not be quite as ghastly as its
potential victims imagine. The last major experience American
and European troops had with poison gas was gruesome enough:
in World War I, both sides used it, causing 91,000 deaths, many
of the victims dying miserably after coughing up mouthfuls of
yellow fluid. Since then, chemical weapons have grown more
sophisticated, but so have the techniques to combat them. Says
Lieut. Colonel Glenn Tripp, a doctor at MedBase America, a
medical evacuation center in the Saudi desert: "The chemical
threat is overrated."

    Allied commanders assume that as soon as the ground war
begins, Saddam Hussein will make good on his threat to gas
their troops. "If there's a ground war, it's virtually
certain," says Matthew Bunn, editor of Arms Control Today.
Chemicals have worked for Saddam before. Many experts believe
Tehran's reluctant acceptance of a cease-fire in the Iran-Iraq
war was prompted by its 45,000 chemical casualties. But the
allies, unlike the Iranians, are well prepared for a dirty
fight. While chemical strikes will slow the coalition down,
"they will not win the war for Saddam," says a senior British
official. "They will not cause mass casualties in the front
line, nor a re-enactment of the horrors of World War I."

    Saddam's chemical wallop has been limited by the bombing
campaign, which the allies contend has completely destroyed the
country's chemical-weapons plants. Baghdad is thought to have
as much as 4,000 tons of toxins stockpiled in Kuwait and Iraq,
but that number sounds more impressive than it really is. A
high degree of saturation is required if an attack is to be
effective; 26 tons of mustard gas, for example, is needed to
cover a single square mile for perhaps a few days.

    The best way to blanket an area with toxins is by flying
overhead and either spraying them crop-duster style or dropping
them in bombs. These are the means by which Saddam gassed his
own Kurdish minority in 1988. But any plane that Saddam would
send up against the allies would probably get shot down in
short order. Thus, the Iraqis are more likely to deliver their
noxious poisons using artillery shells, missiles and rockets.
It would take a terrific barrage of any of these to soak enemy
troops thoroughly, and once the blasting started, allied
bombers would furiously attack the culprits. "Once they're out
in the open," says an American pilot, "they're dead meat." The
Iraqis might also load mines with chemicals, but these would
deliver an isolated punch.

    By their very nature, chemical weapons are unreliable. They
require ideal weather: not too hot, or the stuff will
dissipate; not too windy, or the gases will disperse or
possibly blow back onto the attacker. Of course, Saddam will
seek to maximize the conditions, probably by using poisons late
at night or early in the morning, when the temperatures are
cooler. Because nerve gases like Sarin and Tabun disperse
within minutes or, if enhanced with oil thickeners, within
hours, Saddam is expected to lob these agents close to the
front lines. He is likely to aim persistent toxins like mustard
gas, which linger for days, deeper into allied ranks.

    Even when delivered successfully, chemicals may not be as
deadly as imagined. In World War I, notes Matthew Meselson, a
professor of biology at Harvard, "shell for shell, there were
more deaths from conventional munitions." Only about 5% of the
Iranians gassed by the Iraqis died; the figure might have been
even lower if all the Iranians had been beardless, thus
allowing for a tight fit of their gas masks.

    While the Iranians were ill prepared for a chemical attack,
the allied forces are ready. Automated alarm systems deployed
along the front will warn of chemical emissions. Any allied
advance into Kuwait or Iraq will be accompanied by German-made
vehicles called Fuchs. These bizarre-looking rovers, which have
chemical probes sprouting from their armor, will move ahead of
the troops, sniffing for trouble.

    By now, U.S. soldiers, who carry their chemical gear at all
times, are well rehearsed in donning their protective suits
quickly. Some soldiers can get their masks on in four seconds.
If a soldier gets gassed before he suits up or suffers ill
effects despite the garment, which does not offer 100%
protection, he can inject himself with antidotes. Combined with
prophylactic pills given to troops facing a chemical danger,
these can cut the lethality of an exposure by four-fifths.

    Saddam's primary objective in a chemical strike would
probably be to break up, disorganize and delay charging forces.
Troops cannot move fast in those awkward suits without getting
overheated. Soldiers would have to pause frequently to sip
water, kept in sealed containers, through straws attached to
their masks. Communications are also complicated. The masks
have a microphone attachment, but the sound is poor. And
because it is difficult to tell one suited soldier from another,
commanders are not easily recognized.

    Nevertheless, allied forces are prepared to "fight dirty"
if necessary, that is, to continue an attack even if gassed.
This poses logistical problems. Once a vehicle is contaminated,
it must be kept away from clean ones, lest it pollute them too.
With each round trip, resupply trucks that move from the front
and back would have to be thoroughly cleansed, which can take
up to 2 1/2 hours. The same goes for vehicles transporting
casualties. Gas victims must be isolated from other patients
and given a thorough bathing in a hydrochloric-acid solution
before being tended to by medical personnel.

    Biological weapons are a far greater threat than chemical
agents. Iraq is thought to have a limited capability to attack
with biological agents, which pound for pound are deadlier than
any other weapon, except for nuclear bombs. U.S. officials
maintain that the masks handed out to the troops will also
filter out most airborne germs. Yet there is no easy way to
know immediately when such elements are present. All front-line
combat troops have been inoculated against anthrax, which is
considered Iraq's most likely germ choice, but not against many
other potential diseases like tularemia and plague.

    To some extent, Saddam doesn't actually have to use these
deadly arms to achieve a large part of their power, which is
to terrorize his opponents. "Chemical weapons are mind
altering," says a Western official in Dhahran, "and they alter
the mind before they're used." Just threatening to introduce
them frightens troops, and that may subtly erode morale.