The Gas Chamber

"Luke...I am your father."

I couldn't help thinking about that quote as I took a breath through the gas mask. It helped me to laugh for the moment. But I knew I wouldn't be laughing once I took a breath of CS gas for the first time.

Half of my platoon stood in a line by the pale cinder block building. I looked through the small square lenses of my black mask up at the red framed windows. The smoke inside gathered on the ceiling and obscured the view inside. As we all waited for our turn, I could see that everyone was nervous. They sinched down the straps on the side of the mask tighter to make a good seal. I had to consciously tell myself to take strong breaths in order to breath through the filter. It was hard for me to believe that this little green canister could filter out dangerous chemicals in the air. But I had to develop trust in it soon.

The entrance opened. Lieutenants started to file into the building slowly. Joining us was our Navy Chaplain. He stood at the door with his mask on. Somehow you could see his smile through the mask. He patted us reassuringly on the shoulder as we walked in.

"Can you believe they are paying us to do this?" He said to me enthusiastically.

I didn't respond. I walked into the chamber. The door closed with a bang behind me.



Chemical agents are one of the nastier forms of weapons used on the battle field. They are easy to employ, cheap to make, and highly effective in attacking a large force. However their effects are no where near humane. It is a form of warfare that, as Marines, we must accept and prepare for in these modern times.

One of the ways to prepare is to train in the presence of Chlorobenzylidene Malononitrile gas, or CS gas. The 'less than lethal' weapon is used as a form of riot control. Its effects are temporary... as well as harsh... but temporary.


I walked along the wall, following everyone around the square area. An instructor stood in the middle at a small table. He broke a small black brick on what looked like a small camping stove. Smoke bellowed up and gathered above. The light streamed in from the windows and onto the floor. You could see tinny particles in the air that looked like tinsel and microscopic tinfoil.

And then I felt it.

My throat started to burn and my eyes started to water slightly.


My mask wasn't sealed properly.


Immediately, I could feel my panic reflexes start to come into effect. This has been a problem with my leadership ability, as I tend to fluster easy. So, I took this moment to practice controlling it.

Relax. Think. Use your training. I thought

I took a deep breath despite my throat hurting more and closed my eyes. I placed my hands on the knob in the front my mask and pressed down. Breathing out as hard as I could, air blasted out the mask, clearing it of the gas inside. I placed my hand over the filer and breathed in, causing the mask to suck to my face. I had a seal. I took my hand off the mask and took another breath. It was clean. I put both of my hand's up with thumbs to the ceiling to signify that I was ok.

Other marines didn't do so well. I heard coughing to my left. Two instructors and a Captain were around one of the officers, trying to put his mask on. He panicked and threw it off, making his way for the door. They tried to stop him, but he barreled to the door and outside, coughing and crying. Snot ran from his nose.

By now, the gas had already penetrated my skin. A very strong sensation similar to a bad sun burn was on my hands and around my head. my skin started to turn red. Any sweat that had formed burned even more.

After fixing masks and getting all those who panicked out of the room, we began our 10 minute class.


We began to do a series of exercise with the mask. The first was to take two index fingers and touch the inside of our lens, then clear the mask as I did when we entered.

"5, 4, 3, Close your eyes!" Said the instructor. I shut them tight.
"2 hold your breath!" He said. I inhaled deeply.
"1, break the seal!"

I pushed my fingers through my mask and touched the glass. I focused on remaining calm.

"GAS GAS GAS" He said.

I readjusted my mask and cleared the mask 3 times. The gas burned my throat and skin inside the mask, but I was getting used to it rather quickly. Others were not. I could hear muffled coughs and hacks as the other marines did what they could to clear the gas from side their masks.

This went on for several minutes until we had built up to taking the mask completely off, then refitting it on.

We lined the door to go out.

"Ok", said the instructor, "Who would like to partake in the trail of tears?" He asked.

Several Lt.s lined up to my left in the middle of the room. Lt. Jimmy, Texas, Kansas and Pittsburgh all volunteered. However, I was in no mood to put myself through what they were about to go through.

The rest of us walked out the door and into the sun light. We had to keep walking past all the waiting officers on the bleachers. I flapped my arms in the air and kept my mask on as long as possible, as the gas was still in my clothes and around the air. Walking allowed the wind to remove it.

After walking around for a little while, I made my way back to the exit door. All the officers were already standing there, waiting for the trail of tears volunteers.

I could imagine the group standing against the wall and taking their masks off. I didn't want to imagine all the snot and drool that would be on the floor as they walked around breathing in the gas.

The door was opened by an instructor from inside. Out came the Lt.s, stumbling and drooling across the yard. Laughs and cheers sounded from everyone. Cameras went off as people took pictures of their buddies in absolute distress. I couldn't help but laugh either as I watched all my room mates stumble out with red faces full of snot.

I kicked myself later for not trying that like they did

Then again... maybe not


Thanks for reading :-)