Phosgene was its name – or ‘Green Cross Gas’ as the German Army called it, on account of its shell markings – and it was one of the deadliest gases ever used in war. Little wonder that the Germans had such confidence in this new attack.
The ‘Green Cross Gas’ attacked every living thing. Leaves withered and even snails died; as one minor blessing, the flies swarming over the corpse-infested battlefield also disappeared temporarily. Horses lay, frothy-mouthed and hideously contorted, along all the tracks leading up to Souville.
The chaos was indescribable; abandoned mobile soup-kitchens stood tangled up with artillery caissons and ambulances. None of the supplies of cartridges and water that the front-line infantry had been calling for frantically all the previous day could get through the gas curtain, which in the stillness of the night lingered undissipated. Its effects extended to the rear areas, and even behind Verdun.
A wounded subaltern recalls being treated by a spectre-like surgeon and his team, all wearing gas masks, while nearby a ‘faceless’ Chaplain gave absolution to the dying. Occasionally the medicos clutched their throats and fell.
Source:
Horne, Alistair. “The Crisis.” The Price of Glory: Verdun 1916. New York: St. Martin's, 1963. 286-87. Print.
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