CS Gas training, as I remember it, was a most unpleasant experience. For me it took place during basic training on a hot July day in 1970 at Ft. Knox, Kentucky. The purpose of the training was to give us basic trainees confidence in our protective masks...a stunning eye opening "before and after" experience to say the least. We were run (nobody merely "walks" anywhere during basic training) by our drill instructors to a parking lot in front of a nondescript 1940's era wooden building. We were formed up outside the building and instructed to don our protective masks which were carried in bags attached to our waist and right leg. We were also told to roll down our sleeves, which were normally rolled above the elbows on hot days, and to button them up. We had to button up the top button of our shirts and roll the collars up to cover the backs of our necks as well. As we did so we were told that we would enter the building in small groups and once inside, form up in two columns, facing a table and our CS Gas training instructors. Under no circumstances were we to remove the masks until instructed to do so.
The first thing we noticed once inside the building was an extremely thick cloud gas that hung in the air. The source of the cloud was a can on a wooden table between the instructors. Whatever was in the can was burning and producing volumes of gas. The instructors explained that the gas in the room was the same gas commonly called "tear gas" which is used to disperse unruly crowds, or in our case, we would throw into tunnels or bunkers in Vietnam to drive enemy soldiers out into the open were we could more easily kill them. As they explained all of this we could feel a burning sensation on the exposed areas of our bodies, particularly on the back of the neck. When the brief lecture was over we were told to approach the instructors one at a time, stand at attention, remove the mask, look the instructor in the eyes, and ask permission to leave the building.
The instructions were simple enough and so far things had gone well. I was somewhere in about the middle of my column and could observe the reactions of my buddies ahead of me as they took their masks off one by one. It was amazing. Each one, including Balthrop, the big football player, looked as if they had just been hit by a very large "panic hammer" the second the mask came off. As they fought to choke out the words "Permission to leave the building Sergeant!" their faces now contorted in desperation, the sergeants literally shoved them out the door. It was the same for all of them. No one walked out. They all fled through the door choking and gagging. I could hardly wait for my turn. Dread, dread, dread, until I stood in front of the sergeant, then "Permission to..." (holy shit!!!) "leave the...." (Jesus H. Christ!!!) "building Sergeant!" Panic, panic, panic...run, run, run!
When everybody was outside our drill instructors formed us up and told us we had two choices. It had been a long hot day. We could either march back to our barracks our we could double-time back even though the barracks was kind of far away. "Double-time! Double-time for god's sake!" we all shouted. Amused, the drill instructors bellowed out "Right face. At the double. Move!" and off we went, necks burning, tears streaming down our faces, chanting jodies all the way. As we did so the instructors told us to take hot showers, not cold ones, to open the pores of our skin and better flush out the chemicals. Roger that!
I have heard a number of people who have been exposed to CS gas on the streets by police bragging that "It's not so bad." I'm sure they were right. But that experience is not even close to the experience the average soldier gets in "the Gas Chamber" during basic training. It is a matter of intensity. The video below will give the viewer some idea of the experience. I must say though, back in 1970, our little wooden "gas chamber" was much smaller, and the gas cloud seemed much thicker. Ugh.
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