Toxic Exposures: Mustard Gas and the Health Consequences of World War II in the United States

By Susan L. Smith

Mustard gas is typically associated with the horrors of World War I battlefields and trenches, where chemical weapons were responsible for tens of thousands of deaths. Few realize, however, that mustard gas had a resurgence during the Second World War, when its uses and effects were widespread and insidious. 
 
Toxic Exposures tells the shocking story of how the United States and its allies intentionally subjected thousands of their own servicemen to poison gas as part of their preparation for chemical warfare. In addition, it reveals the racialized dimension of these mustard gas experiments, as scientists tested whether the effects of toxic exposure might vary between Asian, Hispanic, black, and white Americans. Drawing from once-classified American and Canadian government records, military reports, scientists’ papers, and veterans’ testimony, historian Susan L. Smith explores not only the human cost of this research, but also the environmental degradation caused by ocean dumping of unwanted mustard gas.
 
As she assesses the poisonous legacy of these chemical warfare experiments, Smith also considers their surprising impact on the origins of chemotherapy as cancer treatment and the development of veterans’ rights movements. Toxic Exposures thus traces the scars left when the interests of national security and scientific curiosity battled with medical ethics and human rights. 
 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Rutgers University Press
• Release date: Jan 17, 2017
• ISBN: 9780813586113

Book preview

Toxic Exposures

Critical Issues in Health and Medicine

Edited by Rima D. Apple, University of Wisconsin–Madison, and Janet Golden, Rutgers University, Camden

Growing criticism of the US healthcare system is coming from consumers, politicians, the media, activists, and healthcare professionals. Critical Issues in Health and Medicine is a collection of books that explores these contemporary dilemmas from a variety of perspectives, among them political, legal, historical, sociological, and comparative, and with attention to crucial dimensions such as race, gender, ethnicity, sexuality, and culture.

For a list of titles in the series, see the end of the book.

Toxic Exposures

Mustard Gas and the Health Consequences of World War II in the United States

Susan L. Smith

Rutgers University Press

New Brunswick, New Jersey, and London

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Names: Smith, Susan L., author.

Title: Toxic exposures : mustard gas and the health consequences of World War II in the United States / Susan L. Smith.

Description: New Brunswick, New Jersey : Rutgers University Press, [2017] | Series: Critical issues in health and medicine | Includes bibliographical references and index.

Identifiers: LCCN 2016015515| ISBN 9780813586090 (hardback) | ISBN 9780813586113 (e-book (epub)) | ISBN 9780813586120 (e-book (web pdf))

Subjects: LCSH: Mustard gas—Toxicology. | Chemical weapons—United States—Testing. | Gases, Asphyxiating and poisonous. | BISAC: HISTORY / Military / Biological & Chemical Warfare. | MEDICAL / History. | SCIENCE / History. | HISTORY / Military / World War II. | POLITICAL SCIENCE / Political Freedom & Security / Human Rights. | HISTORY / United States / 20th Century.

Classification: LCC RA1247.M8 S65 2017 | DDC 615.9/1—dc23

LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2016015515

A British Cataloging-in-Publication record for this book is available from the British Library.

Copyright © 2017 by Susan L. Smith

All rights reserved

No part of this book may be reproduced or utilized in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without written permission from the publisher. Please contact Rutgers University Press, 106 Somerset Street, New Brunswick, NJ 08901. The only exception to this prohibition is fair use as defined by U.S. copyright law.

Visit our website: http://rutgerspress.rutgers.edu/

To Donald Macnab, for everything

Contents

Acknowledgments

List of Abbreviations

Introduction: Health and War Beyond the Battlefield

Part I. Preparation for Chemical Warfare

Chapter 1. Wounding Men to Learn: Soldiers as Human Subjects

Chapter 2. Race Studies and the Science of War

Part II. Toxic Legacies of War

Chapter 3. Mustard Gas in the Sea Around Us

Chapter 4. A Wartime Story: Mustard Agents and Cancer Chemotherapy

Conclusion: Veterans Making History

Notes

Index

About the Author

Read More in the Series

Acknowledgments

I want to thank the many people who have provided such tremendous support to me on this research and writing journey. I could not have done it without the assistance of family, friends, and colleagues at home and abroad.

I want to thank Donald Macnab for his love and confidence that I could finish this book. Donald, an outstanding researcher, also found some of the sources for this project and read the entire manuscript. In addition, I appreciate the love of my family in Canada, including my wonderful adult children Erin, Andreas, and Caitlin, and their partners. In the United States, I am blessed with strong family support, including from my Aunt Norma and my late Aunt Carole, my brothers, Jerry and Larry, and their spouses, Maudy and Ann. Finally, I thank Dennis and Patricia Edney, who have shared their unwavering love and made us part of their family.

In Edmonton, I have been blessed to be part of a community of extraordinary scholars who have become some of my dearest friends. They read drafts of grant proposals, attended talks, read chapters, and sometimes just chatted with me about my ideas. Their encouragement and feedback was vital to this project. I wish to thank Laurie Atkin, Lesley Cormack, Sara Dorow, Andrew Ede, Brian Evans, Judy Garber, Dawna Gilchrist, Susan Hamilton, Lois Harder, Jaymie Heilman, Karen Hughes, David Marples, Ann McDougall, Liza Piper, Pat Prestwich, Daphne Read, Sharon Romeo, Robert Smith, and Teresa Zackodnik. I also appreciate the support of other colleagues at the University of Alberta, including Sarah Carter, Beverly Lemire, Rod McLeod, Ken Moure, Melinda Smith, and Linda Trimble.

I want to acknowledge the tremendous encouragement I have received both professionally and personally from American and Canadian friends who have supported this project and whose scholarship inspires me in so many ways. I thank Emily Abel, Rima Apple, Charlotte Borst, Roger Daniels, Jackie Duffin, Erika Dyck, Eve Fine, Vanessa Northington Gamble, Janet Golden, Geoff Hudson, David Jones, Susan Lederer, Susan Lindee, Paul Lombardo, Laura McEnaney, Leslie Reagan, Susan Reverby, Leslie Schwalm, and Nancy Tomes. In addition, Florian Schmaltz at the University of Frankfurt on Main, Germany, and Daniel Immerwahr of Northwestern University kindly shared resource material with me. In particular, I want to thank Jaymie Heilman and Arleeen Tuchman, who at key moments responded to my writing challenges with such wisdom and kindness. Furthermore, I wish to acknowledge Mariamne Whatley and Nancy Worcester, whose friendship has been so important and who taught me so much about the politics of health. Finally, I want to acknowledge the intellectual powerhouses who taught me how to do history: Judy Leavitt, Linda Gordon, and the late Gerda Lerner.

It has been a pleasure to work with Rutgers University Press. Janet Golden and Rima Apple long ago believed in this project and encouraged me to submit it for their series. I have had the pleasure of working with senior editor Peter Mickulas, whose patience and professionalism is unsurpassed. Peter has made the publication process enjoyable. Finally, I thank the external reviewers for their extremely helpful comments and questions, and the copyeditor, Gary Von Euer. Any errors in the book that remain are, of course, my own.

I also want to recognize the undergraduate and graduate students who have played such an important role in inspiring and aiding my research. I especially thank the students in my courses on American medical history, including Erin Balcolm, Allison Barr, Sarah Baugh, Merissa Daborn, Erin Gallagher-Cohoon, Lauren Gnanasihamany, Letitia Johnson, Caroline Lieffers, Lauren Markewicz, Stephen Mawdsley, and Anna O’Brien. The students’ interest and questions helped to launch and inspire this research project. For research assistance, I thank David Dolff, Leslie Holmes, Lauren Maclean, Stephen Mawdsley, Anna O’Brien, Peter Sims, and Katherine Zwicker. Katherine Zwicker, who completed a dissertation on the history of radiation research, provided ideas and suggestions for sources, as well as her friendship. Finally, my dear friend Stephen Mawdsley was a model MA student, remarkable research assistant, and efficient coauthor. Stephen, who completed a PhD from the University of Cambridge and a book on the history of polio, recently joined the University of Strathclyde in Glasgow, Scotland. They are very lucky to have this impressive scholar.

Over the years I have disseminated my research findings at a range of academic events and public venues in the United States and Canada, and I want to express my gratitude to the organizers and audience members. In addition, I want to acknowledge the assistance provided by archivists and librarians at the following locations: US National Archives in College Park, Maryland (Tab Lewis and Mitch Yockelson), the National Academy of Sciences (Janice Goldblum), the Historical Collections of the New York Academy of Medicine (Arlene Shaner and Chris Warren), the Rockefeller Archive Center in New York (Margaret Hogan), the Directorate of History and Heritage for National Defence and Library and Archives Canada, both in Ottawa; and the University of Alberta Archives (Jim Franks). I am also grateful for the research information provided by Dr. John Fenn, retired professor of surgery, and Melissa Grafe, librarian for medical history, at Yale University.

Funding for this project was provided by a standard research grant from the Social Sciences and Humanities Research Council of Canada (SSHRC) and a grant from the former Institute for United States Policy Studies at the University of Alberta. I also received funding from the Situating Science SSHRC Cluster Grant and the University of Alberta Conference Fund to organize a workshop on Health Legacies: Militarization, Health and Society at the University of Alberta in 2009. The papers were published by the Journal of Law, Medicine & Ethics through the helpful guidance of Ted Hutchinson. Furthermore, I am grateful for the time to write provided by a McCalla Research Professorship from the University of Alberta.

Finally, I want to acknowledge the following for permission to draw on material from archives and my previously published work: the Rockefeller Archive Center; the National Academy of Sciences; the Journal of Law, Medicine & Ethics; and Pickering & Chatto Press. In addition, I thank Greg Wilson for sharing information about his father, Howard R. Wilson, whose photograph graces the cover of my book. Greg and Gary Wilson kindly agreed to let me use this haunting image.

Abbreviations

ACHRE Advisory Committee on Human Radiation Experiments

ARCOM army commendation medal

ATSDR Agency for Toxic Substances and Disease Registry

CFB Canadian Forces Base

CWS US Chemical Warfare Service

DDT dichlorodiphenyltrichloroethane

DRDC Defence Research and Development Canada

DU depleted uranium

EPA Environmental Protection Agency

HELCOM Helsinki Commission; Baltic Marine Environment Protection Commission

HIPAA Health Insurance Portability and Accountability Act

HUMMA Hawaii Undersea Military Munitions Assessment

IDUM International Dialogue on Underwater Munitions

KPS Karnofsky performance scale

NAS National Academy of Sciences

NDRC US National Defense Research Committee

NIH National Institutes of Health

NPR National Public Radio

OSRD US Office of Scientific Research and Development

PCBs polychlorinated biphenyls

TBI traumatic brain injury

UXO unexploded ordnance

VA US Department of Veterans Affairs

WACS Women’s Army Corps

Introduction

Health and War Beyond the Battlefield

In May 2000, I listened with shock to a local radio news report about mustard gas experiments that had been conducted in Alberta, Canada, during World War II. The CBC radio host Peter Brown informed his listeners that Canadian Defence Minister Art Eggleton had come to the province to put up a plaque to honor the veterans who had participated in these military medical experiments in the 1940s. According to the report, several thousand Canadian soldiers had served as human subjects in secret chemical warfare research at Suffield, a military experimental station in southern Alberta not far from the Montana border. I was appalled by the reporter’s descriptions of human experiments with mustard gas, which included skin tests, field tests, and even tests in gas chambers.

Living in Alberta opened my eyes to a new aspect of the history of World War II. These disturbing Canadian events fit well with some of the themes that I covered in my course on American medical history at the University of Alberta, including the topics of medical experimentation and the impact of war on health. Thus, I brought news about Alberta history into my American history classroom. Each year when I briefly mentioned this example of wartime human experimentation to my students, they showed great interest and asked excellent questions, which heightened my own curiosity. I decided to find out more about how and why these experiments happened, and their impact on the men who served as human subjects. In 2005, with some very significant encouragement from family and friends, I took the plunge into American and Canadian government archives.

I learned from military and medical primary sources and earlier historical scholarship that the mustard gas experiments in Alberta were just the tip of an iceberg. They were part of a continental, even global, story of mustard gas that reached down into the United States and across two oceans to the United Kingdom and Australia. The international dimensions of these local events illustrated how Alberta, my current home, connected to the United States, my country of origin, and beyond. The medical experiments were part of the international cooperation of Allied nations in wartime. This book focuses on the health consequences of mustard gas in the United States, but it situates that history within a web of linked and parallel activities in Canada, as well as Great Britain and Australia.¹ Teaching American history in Canada has led me to be attentive to how issues cross national boundaries and has shaped how I frame this medical history of mustard gas.

For nearly one hundred years, mustard gas has been central to the history of chemical weapons, which are toxic chemicals and munitions designed to cause harm.² On July 12, 1917, Germany became the first nation to use mustard gas in warfare, two years after the first large-scale deployment of chlorine gas. Eventually, all warring nations used various types of chemical weapons during the First World War. Poison gas injured more than one million soldiers, of whom about 100,000 died.³ During World War II, nations assumed gas warfare would return, and so they prepared for chemical warfare on an unprecedented scale. Now in the twenty-first century, despite international efforts to eliminate chemical weapons through the 1993 Chemical Weapons Convention, mustard gas has remained the chemical weapon of choice by those who wish for a weapon that is relatively cheap and easy to produce.⁴

Mustard gas played a significant role during the Second World War, far greater than most of us realize, and one that the history of Alberta makes clear. The mustard gas experiments in Alberta were part of a transnational program of scientific research on chemical weapons led by the United States and the United Kingdom.⁵ The mustard gas experiments were part of efforts to upgrade older military technologies and create new ones.⁶ In the name of national defense, Allied nations turned to medical science and exposed thousands of their own servicemen to poison gas as part of their preparation for chemical warfare. The exact number of soldiers and sailors who served as human subjects is extremely difficult to determine. However, recent publications estimate that the mustard gas experiments affected more than 2,500 Canadians, 2,500 Australians, 7,000 Britons, and 60,000 Americans. These are all likely low estimates due to incomplete records and government restrictions on still-classified military records.⁷

Toxic Exposures: Mustard Gas and the Health Consequences of World War II in the United States investigates the impact of war on health at home. It explores the history of the American mustard gas experiments and their postwar legacies. It examines the meanings and consequences of these human experiments, especially for the soldiers and sailors. Most of the experiments took place under the auspices of the Chemical Warfare Service (CWS), a technical service of the US Army known as the Chemical Corps beginning in 1946, and the Office of Scientific Research and Development (OSRD), a federal civilian agency. Toxic Exposures investigates the work of scientists, physician-researchers, and military officials who studied the impact of mustard gas exposure on the human body, and it analyzes how and why they did that research. During the Second World War, American medical scientists turned to soldiers as research subjects in greater numbers than ever before as part of a massive program of scientific support of the war effort.

Toxic Exposures documents the human and environmental costs of war. It demonstrates that World War II, that much-studied war, left a poisonous legacy due to toxic exposures to mustard gas. The health consequences were not just immediate but also long-term, not just for soldiers but also for civilians, and not just on faraway battlefields but also at home.

Furthermore, it highlights the perspectives of the human subjects of these wartime experiments and tries to understand the experiences of the young men who voluntarily and involuntarily put their bodies on the front lines in the science of war. Enlisted men contributed to the war effort not only on the battlefield but also on the home front. Despite their exploitation as research subjects, many of the men were proud of their wartime service and wanted their contributions to their country recognized.

Toxic Exposures shows how Americans engaged in poisoning themselves in the name of saving lives. It uses a historical approach to explore the far-reaching consequences of medical research on mustard gas during the Second World War. It shows how medical scientists played a key role in American preparation for chemical warfare. Mustard gas was, and still is, a defining feature of the war’s legacy for soldiers’ health, racialized science, ocean environments, and cancer treatment in the United States. This history reveals the health consequences of weapons development, even when the weapons were not used against the enemy. It demonstrates the failure to protect human rights in the effort to advance medical knowledge and promote national security.

Health Legacies of Twentieth-Century Wars

A great deal of attention has been paid to documenting the health consequences of war and weapons development in the second half of the twentieth century. Journalists, scientists, historians, and activists have produced studies that identify and criticize the immediate and long-term health consequences for soldiers and civilians of so-called weapons of mass destruction, including chemical, biological, and nuclear weapons. The general public learned much of the political critique of those weapons from the social movements of the 1950s through the 1980s, including the antiwar movements and antinuclear movements. Among the activists were doctors in organizations like Physicians for Social Responsibility and former soldiers in groups like Vietnam Veterans Against the War.

Much of the attention to health and war has focused on the health consequences of nuclear weapons development. In 1945 the United States dropped two nuclear bombs on Japan to end World War II in the Pacific theater. The American use of atomic weapons to stop Japanese atrocities in Asia and the Pacific created the Atomic Age and new public health concerns. Scientists were eager to understand the health effects of nuclear weapons and the potential medical benefits of radioisotopes. Health physicists and medical scientists conducted the now infamous human radiation experiments to learn as much as they could, risking the health of a wide range of individuals from vulnerable groups in the process. Indeed scientists conducted more than four thousand human radiation experiments from the 1940s to the 1970s.⁸ Notably, many of the themes identified by David S. Jones and Robert L. Martensen in their essay on radiation experiments closely parallel topics in the history of mustard gas experiments, in terms of the impact on soldier performance, the issue of individual variation, and links to cancer research.⁹

The nuclear arms race between the United States and the Soviet Union after the Second World War led to fears ranging from nuclear fallout to nuclear annihilation. During the resulting Cold War, atomic weapons testing in the Pacific Ocean displaced many indigenous people from their island homes, beginning in 1946 when the American military removed the people of the Bikini atoll in the Marshall Islands so that the area could serve as the site of atomic experiments. The Americans relocated the inhabitants to a nearby island where they and American sailors were exposed to radioactive fallout.¹⁰ The United States, along with other nuclear powers, continued to detonate nuclear weapons in the South Pacific, above the sea and underwater, from 1946 to 1962.

Meanwhile, the United States looked for a nuclear test site location on the mainland away from potential Soviet spying and as a way to ease the problem of logistics and supplies in the Pacific.¹¹ In 1951 Nevada became the main continental test site of the 1950s and early 1960s. This western state offered what appeared to be isolated, unlimited space with only a sparse population. The Nevada Proving Grounds provided miles of desert, which became a kind of national sacrifice zone for weapons testing that demonstrated a serious disregard for wildlife and the local environment, not to mention the people who lived in nearby areas.¹²

The Nevada Proving Grounds, located only sixty-five miles from Las Vegas, left a notorious health legacy for atomic soldiers and downwinders from its nuclear weapons testing program. From 1951 to 1992 there were 928 nuclear tests there. Atmospheric nuclear testing in Nevada ended in 1963 when the United States, along with the Soviet Union and Great Britain, signed the Partial Test Ban Treaty and agreed to stop conducting nuclear weapons tests aboveground, underwater, and in space. Instead, the United States moved its nuclear detonations underground, mostly in Nevada, but also in Colorado, New Mexico, and Mississippi, and even on one of the Aleutian islands off Alaska.¹³

Scientists and the public came to understand that the greatest health dangers from atomic testing came not from the blasts, but from the fallout as the winds carried the airborne radioactive particles across the land. Fallout coated the western farms and towns downwind. To the folks in these places, the fallout looked like morning dew on the grass.¹⁴ The health concerns about radioactive fallout have centered on the risks of developing cancer, especially thyroid cancer. Radiation exposures affected American, Canadian, and British servicemen, known as atomic soldiers, who participated in military training exercises in Nevada. They also affected the downwinders, or residents who lived in nearby Nevada counties and other western states.¹⁵

Critics of the nuclear arms race argued at the time that not only was a nuclear war unwinnable, but that the testing of nuclear weapons resulted in unacceptable health consequences. These were rallying points for the antinuclear movements, which argued that radioactive fallout and nuclear waste harmed, rather than protected, Americans. Members of groups like Women Strike for Peace criticized government messages that promoted civil defense efforts as a way to reassure Americans that they could survive a nuclear war. Some of the most alarming health awareness campaigns focused on children. For example, in the 1950s, activists conducted a baby tooth campaign, which collected children’s baby teeth and identified traces of strontium-90, a long-lasting external emitter of radiation from fallout.¹⁶ As far north as Edmonton, Canada, there were warnings about contamination in the city’s water as a result of bomb tests in Nevada. Strontium-90 is hazardous because, like calcium, it gets deposited in the bones of human beings and animals.¹⁷

Additional public concerns about the health legacies of war emerged in the 1960s, 1970s, and 1980s over the impact of Agent Orange on American soldiers who served in the US-Vietnam War.¹⁸ Agent Orange, labeled a chemical weapon by critics, was one of several chemical defoliants sprayed by the American military on the Vietnamese landscape during the war to eliminate hiding places for guerrilla warfare. The toxic chemical destroyed food supplies and got into the air, water, and soil. It produced a range of short-term and long-term health problems for American military personnel, as well as Vietnamese soldiers, civilians, and their offspring. Reproductive health problems, for example, include a range of serious birth defects in the children and grandchildren of those exposed to Agent Orange, especially among the Vietnamese people. Leslie Reagan’s research shows how children’s disabilities have been central to representations of the health legacies of that war.¹⁹

Furthermore, Gulf War Syndrome, now known as Gulf War Illness, emerged as the veterans’ health issue of the 1990s.²⁰ The Gulf War of 1990–1991 involved an American-led United Nations coalition that fought against Iraq’s leader Saddam Hussein in response to his invasion of Kuwait. American military officials boasted that this short, victorious war in Iraq produced few American casualties. However, after the war thousands of American veterans, as well as some of those from participating nations like Canada, the United Kingdom, and Australia, suffered from a wide range of health problems. The search for the cause of their ailments is still ongoing despite a number of government-funded scientific studies. Among the potential contributors to Gulf War Illness were the military use of experimental vaccines and an anthrax vaccine given to protect soldiers from exposures to chemical and biological weapons. Also, some soldiers were exposed to so-called depleted uranium (DU) used by Americans in bullets and tank protection. DU weapons can release minute radioactive particles that can be breathed into the lungs.²¹ Other health hazards faced by Gulf War troops included the inadvertent release of Iraqi chemical and biological agents through American destruction of Iraqi weapons bunkers. In fact, Americans sold Iraq some of these chemical weapons, including mustard gas, when the United States backed Iraq in the Iran-Iraq war of the 1980s. About 30,000 Iranians were harmed by Iraq’s use of chemical weapons in that war.²²

The health consequences of war have continued to affect American veterans in the twenty-first century. Following al Qaeda’s attacks on the United States on September 11, 2001, American-led wars in Afghanistan beginning in October 2001 and in Iraq in 2003 once again led to public concerns about the health costs of war-making. Many American soldiers, as well as soldiers from Canada and the United Kingdom,