Red Thrust: Attack on the Central Front, Soviet Tactics and Capabilities in the 1990s

CHAPTER 8 Chemical Warfare: Gas Attack at Geiselhoring

Senior Lieutenant Pyotr Chazov surveyed the field where his motor rifle company was bedding down for the night. His troops had done a good job concealing their armored vehicles along the edge of a neat Bavarian pine forest. The sun was setting, and you could hardly see the silhouettes of their BMP armored vehicles against the dark pines. His troops weren't as sharp as the platoon he had had under him in the Panshir Valley fighting in Afghanistan back in 1988. But they had become remarkably battle hardened in only a week of war. They had overrun a German mechanized infantry unit during the forest fighting on the third day, which had given them a lot of needed confidence. Some of them were even becoming a bit cocky. His company had been pretty lucky so far — no air attacks. Still, he hollered over to Sergeant Aksai to get his two Igla antiaircraft missile teams into position in case any NATO attack helicopters did show up.[62]

Chazov's company had seen hard fighting. They had lost a third of their vehicles during the forest fighting along the Czechoslovak border. Two BMPs were blown up near the border by mines, and a third was lost in an ambush to a German Milan antitank missile. They had crossed the Danube two days before without too much trouble, and had been assigned to the western flank of the Straubing bridgehead. The neighboring BMP company under Lieutenant Dudkov had been roughed up tar worse. Earlier in the day, they had been ambushed by a German Leopard 2 tank unit, losing most of their vehicles. The remnants of Dudkov's company were put under Chazov's command. This brought it back up to its normal full strength of ten BMP armored infantry vehicles.

His company had started the war with a full complement of the newer BMP-2 Yozh. The Yozh was well armed, but it had real limits when feced with enemy tanks. Chazov hoped that if he ever ran into Leopards he would have some T-80 tanks to help. His regiment had a single tank battalion with T-80s to support the three BMP battalions.

Chazov's 3d Platoon was equipped with older BMP-1M Korshun-Ms from Dudkov's company. [63]

The old Korshun-Ms had a low-pressure gun in the turret instead of the 30mm woodpecker autocannon on the Yozh. It was derisively called a "sparrow shooter" by the troops. It was slow to fire, maybe three rounds a minute if everything worked right. But the autoloader in the turret was finicky, and if the gunner wasn't careful, it would catch on this clothing and mash him up against the gun breech. The Korshun's gun fired a little PG-9 rocket-powered grenade, much like the RPG-7 antitank rocket launcher, which was supposed to be able to destroy a tank. But NATO tanks now had reactive armor and Chobham armor, so it didn't work worth a damn. Its warhead just wasn't big enough to get through the new armors. To give the old BMP-1 some tank-killing power, a Fagot missile launcher had been lashed on the roof.[64]

This was a smaller cousin of the Konkurs missile on the BMP-2. The Konkurs missile could be fired from within the turret, however; with the Fagot, the gunner had to open up his hatch and aim the missile from outside. Needless to say, the old Korshun-Ms weren't too handy when facing tanks.

Dudkov's company had found this out the hard way earlier in the day. His company was moving through some hilly pastures outside the village of Mitterharthausen in support of the day's regimental attack. They were separated from the regiment's T-80 tank battalion by a small woods on their right flank. Pyotr Chazov's company was to their left behind some low hills. Before Dudkov had even reached his objective, about four German Leopard 2 tanks came spewing out of the woods, going full tilt. It was a fearsome sight. The Leopards could move at nearly forty miles an hour, even on rough ground. And they could fire on the move. Dudkov's old BMP-1s had to stop to fire. It was a completely unequal contest. Dudkov's BMPs outnumbered the tanks two to one, but the tanks could open fire from 2,000 meters, far outside the range of the BMP's little "sparrow shooter." At that range, only the Fagot missile could be used. Two BMPs from the 1st Platoon stopped to fire their Fagots. They managed to launch them all right, but the Fagot missile takes nearly fifteen seconds to travel 2,000 meters. The Leopard 2 crews were well trained and they saw the white puff of smoke when the Fagots were launched. They swung their boxy turrets at the two offending Korshuns and fired. The 120mm gun projectiles took only two seconds to travel 2,000 meters, long before the Fagot missiles arrived. The high-explosive rounds hit the Korshuns squarely on the sides. The explosions blew the turrets high in the air and ignited the ammunition and fuel. The Korshuns went up in fireballs. None of the eleven crew in either vehicle survived.

The remaining eight Korshuns tried to hide behind small hills until the German Leopards were close enough to be in range of their sparrow shooters. Dudkov knew he was supposed to keep radio silence before the attack and use flag signals. In the confusion, he violated orders and radioed the surviving vehicles to dismount their infantry. Only one platoon seemed to hear the orders. The Leopards closed to about 500 meters and the Korshuns started firing. Two of the Leopards were hit almost immediately. There was a big flash on the front of their turrets and for a moment, it seemed like they might have been stopped. But then their turrets started traversing, looking for new victims. The lousy little PG-9 rounds had only scorched their laminate armor. The Leopards waded into the Korshuns, firing the whole time. Each time the 120mm gun fired, the ground shook. The tanks were engulfed in a cloud of flash and dust, kicked up by the guns' blasts. But the Leopards had an uncanny ability to see through all this smoke and debris, and still were able to hit the Korshuns with precision. It was a massacre. One after another, five more Korshuns were blown to bits.

Dudkov had managed to reach the regimental tank battalion on radio moments before his own Korshun was gutted. The tank battalion commander, Major Gaipov, responded by sending a platoon of three T-80s to rescue Dudkov's company. They surprised the Leopards and managed to hit two of them in the rear. The surviving infantry watched with glee as two Leopards were left smashed and burning. The other two turned away from the remaining Korshuns and began a losing battle with the Soviet tanks.

Chazov heard Dudkov's radio calls. He sounded frantic. Moments later, he saw the smudges of oily fires over the rise to his right. He continued forward with his company, but a few minutes later his battalion commander, Major Barchuk, radioed him to halt his attack. The ambush had badly disrupted the attack, and one of the other companies had taken stiff losses as well. He was to take his company back to the site of Dudkov's ambush and pick up the survivors.

Chazov left one platoon facing toward the German positions in Geiselhoring and led the other three vehicles back to Dudkov's company. It was easy enough to find the site of the ambush from the billowing plumes of sooty black smoke. Chazov raised Senior Sergeant Vasilev on his radio. Vasilev, the highest ranking survivor from Dudkov's company, was badly shaken up and incoherent. Chazov realized that Vasilev was incapable of leading the survivors. He ordered one of his sergeants to take over command of the remnants of the unit. A couple minutes later, the three surviving Korshuns came up the hill with several soldiers clinging to the rear deck of each. The Korshun was too cramped inside to carry anybody except its own crew. Survivors from the knocked-out vehicles had to be carried on the outside.

The attack on Geiselhoring on 7 October had been a failure. The attack had continued, minus Barchuk's battalion on the left flank. The two remaining BMP battalions, supported by some of the tanks, didn't have the strength to overcome the well-entrenched German defenders. Chazov's company was ordered to take up night defensive positions near a woods five kilometers from Geiselhoring. He was told over the regimental radio net to expect orders at about 1900.

Chazov had his hands full. His company was well positioned for the night, but the morale of the men hadn't been helped by the day's fighting. His own two platoons were in good enough spirits, but the remnants of Dudkov's company were another matter. Chazov called the company zam-polit, Junior Lieutenant Sudro, to his vehicles and ordered him to take over the battered Korshun company. Because one of Dudkov's companies had managed to dismount before their BMPs were destroyed, there were more troops in the company than spaces in the BMPs. Sudro was ordered to sort through the survivors and cull out those who were most obviously shell-shocked. Chazov would worry about them later. He didn't expect the Germans to launch a night counterattack, but he had to keep his men on their toes for such an eventuality. At about 1800, a villiys came down to pick him up for a regimental officers' meeting. He left Lieutenant Sudro in charge.

In the jeep was the commander of the 1st Motor Rifle Battalion, Major Barchuk, and the other surviving company commander, Captain Glebov. Glebov's company had lost four vehicles in the afternoon fighting, mostly to missiles. That left the whole battalion at only half strength, with Chazov's company in the best shape. Major Barchuk said that he expected the attack to be repeated the next morning.

When the officers from Barchuk's battalion arrived at the regimental command post, they saw the usual faces, with a few conspicuous absences. The battalion had suffered heavy losses in the past few days of fighting. The men looked exhausted. They had little chance to bathe or shave, and looked like they could care less. Few had gotten more than a few hours of sleep each night for the past week. There were three officers Chazov didn't recognize. They stuck out due to their clean uniforms. He noticed that one was wearing the branch-of-service collar insignia of the Chemical Warfare Forces. After a bit of milling about, the regimental commander, Colonel Rusak, ordered the men to sit down and he proceeded with his briefing.

"Comrade officers. As you are well aware, the attack against Geiselhoring was not successful.

It is the most essential road junction in our divisional sector. The divisional commander is insistent that we take that village by tomorrow afternoon, at all costs. We cannot expect any reinforcements. We are not the only ones who have had problems on this front. Several of our neighboring divisions have not kept their schedules either. Our artillery preparations have not been as effective as we expected."

There was a murmur of assent from the assembled officers. The artillery preparation against Geiselhoring had been piss poor. It did little more than bounce around the rubble.

'The front commander has ordered the use of chemical weapons to soften up the resistance to our advance."

At the mention of chemical weapons, the officers began to fidget. Rusak then turned to the visiting officers. "Captain Kasparov from division headquarters will continue this briefing."

Kasparov went up to a covered map board and lifted off its canvas cover. It was the normal 1:50,000 scale map of the local area. It was covered with the usual bewildering assortment of colored pencil symbols. Kasparov began.

"Comrade officers. Our artillery preparations have not proven effective in routing out the German troops in Geiselhoring. The Germans are well entrenched in the rubble. We believe they will receive reinforcements tonight. There are about three companies of infantry, supported by about ten Milan antitank missile launchers."

Ten entrenched launchers. Great! Chazov figured that meant two or three in his sector, or one for every three BMPs — not good odds for his men.

"We are planning a gas attack at 0515, followed by your attack at 0530. We will be using Agent AC. Do you remember what AC is?" Kasparov looked around the room. From the sheepish looks he encountered, he knew the answer. "Agent AC is a hydrogen cyanide gas, a nonpersistent blood agent. You inhale it, you die. Two good whiffs in a heavy concentration and you'll immediately become unconscious, You'll be dead in three to five minutes. It acts through the lungs and the bloodstream, not through the skin. So all your troops need to wear is their protective masks, not their slime suits."

There was a sigh of relief among the officers. The slime suits, officially designated "OP-1 chemical protective suits," were a real horror to wear. The chemical masks weren't so bad. At almost the same instant, there was a collective reflex by the officers to check their gas masks. Several of the officers patted the bag on their left thigh. But most of the officers realized they had left their gas mask bags behind in their vehicles. Lousy gas discipline, they thought. Most of the officers began to worry that their men might have lost or thrown away their chemical gear.

Kasparov continued: "I said that you didn't have to wear the OP-1 suits. But you had damn well better have them ready. If we use gas, NATO may use gas. You should make certain to refresh your memory about gas procedures. Are there any questions so far?"

Captain Savin from the 2d Motor Rifle Battalion started with a question that was on everyone's mind: "What if our troops have lost their chemical defense gear?"

Chazov remembered seeing a number of chemical defense bags left behind at one of the other battalions' bivouac sites two nights before. He had cautioned his own platoon leaders about this, but he wasn't certain how much good it had done.

Chemical defense gear is a prominent part of a Soviet soldier's kit. The Soviet infantryman has far less equipment than the average NATO soldier: no sleeping bag, a very small rucksack, and only one cartridge belt. He is issued a chemical defense mask in a canvas bag to be worn over his left hip. The ammunition pouch is worn on the right hip. The OP-1 chemical defense suit is rolled up and carried on his back under the rucksack. These are a real nuisance when riding and fighting in a BMP. The interior of the vehicle is so cramped that the soldier can't leave his rucksack or slime suit on his back. And there's no space on the floor. There's a bit of space behind, on a ledge formed by the fuel tank and the back of the two rows of seats. But this is supposed to be reserved for the Igla air defense missile launcher. There is a space in front, on the ledge over the tracks, but if the kit is put there, the vehicle firing ports can't be used. There are no provisions for stowing the kit on the outside of the vehicle. There is a rolled tarp around the back of the turret, but that isn't big enough for the whole squad's gear. If the tarp is filled up with rucksacks and chemical masks, it blocks the two top roof hatches. In peacetime this doesn't really matter. The men are seldom in the BMP for more than a few hours at a stretch, and they seldom use the firing ports. But in war, extra belongings and spare parts accumulate and fill up the vehicle.

Most of Chazov's squads had loaded a lot of the more useless kits (meaning the gas masks and suits) into the tarp and put it on the rear roof. This wasn't the safest thing to do, but it got the junk out of the way. In some of the other companies, the chemical gear had been thrown away.

Kasparov had anticipated this problem. "You know as well as I how often we've drilled chemical defense into those blockheads! Those troops know that discarding state property is a punishable offense!"

Captain Savin interrupted: "Comrade Captain, I know that, and you know that. But we are at war. The troops have other concerns. What am I going to do? I can't send my company into action without masks. I mean if they stay in the BMPs they are all right. But those fucking nyemtsi have been fighting like bastards and we'll have to fight this one dismounted!"

Kasparov calmed down a bit. "Look, if the agent works as the front leadership expects, you ought to be able to roll into that town mounted up." Several of the officers looked very agitated. Chazov stood up.

"Comrade Captain, the front commanders haven't seen what those towns look like after our artillery finishes with them. The streets are all full of rubble. The nyemtsi are down in the cellars or in bunkers. We can't drive our BMPs over all that crap. It'll rip the tracks off. Besides, in close quarters the nyemtsi will start shooting at us with those damn panzerfaust. Have you seen what a panzerfaust does to an infantry squad shut up in a BMP? Burnt strawberry jam splattered all over the insides! Even if the gas works, we'll have to fight this one dismounted!"

The regimental commander, Colonel Rusak, was surprised by Chazov's outburst and by the surly attitude of his company commanders to the divisional staff officers. In peacetime this wouldn't be tolerated. But it wasn't peacetime. Rusak knew that several of these company commanders were decorated veterans of Afghanistan and had little patience for book-learned tactics.

Colonel Rusak got up. "OK, look boys, let's calm down. Comrade captain is here to get you prepared for the attack, not to instruct you veterani on tactics. We'll discuss the tactics for tomorrow's attack once he's finished briefing us on the chemical aspects of the attack."

Captain Kasparov returned to the center. "Look, Agent AC is nonpersistent. It evaporates really fast. It's lethal only in thick clouds. We're going to really have to plaster that town with bug spray to build up concentrations high enough to gas those nyemtsi. By the time you get into the town, the concentrations will be really low. You shouldn't have any problems. Watch out in the cellars. The gas will not disperse in confined areas. But it won't be bad up on the surface."

Savin interrupted again: "Can we count on a napalm strike before we go in, like we used to do in Afghanistan?"

Kasparov looked over to the two other officers who had accompanied him from headquarters. One of them, a stocky KGB security officer named Kaminskiy, nodded negatively: "You know as well as I do that getting tactical air support is very difficult." Everyone nodded in agreement. "Besides, we used to use a napalm strike to burn off persistent agents, not blood agents like AC. We really don't need it. As long as you don't breathe this stuff, you'll be all right. Well have a medical team at regimental headquarters for any of our own casualties."

"What about NATO? If we use this stuff, won't they?" asked Savin. Kasparov looked back at the KGB major, who got up and walked to the center of the room.

"Comrade officers, we at front headquarters feel that gas will give us a critical advantage in tomorrow's attack. You know we are behind schedule. This situation is the same along much of the battle line. We feel that the shock of the gas attack will help us breach the main enemy defensive belt. I am not supposed to mention this. It is very secret and you should tell no one.

We will be using other secret weapons tomorrow as well. Also, if you manage to secure your objectives, we plan to push a divisional mobile group through your sector to exploit our success. You can see how much depends on you. Overcome the resistance at Geiselhoring, and gain your objectives. The lead will then be taken by a fresh unit. You must keep these details in confidence from your men. But I thought you deserved to know. We at Front HQ expect that tomorrow will give us the breakthrough we've all been waiting for. The enemy is badly weakened. And tomorrow you will see a real demonstration of the power of the Soviet Army!"

The officers felt a bit cheered by the major's pep talk. Doubts would creep back in later. But for now, it was the matter of planning the details of tomorrow's attack with Colonel Rusak.

Chazov returned to his company at about 2100. It was already dark. The sentry was alert and issued the proper challenge. He was a soldier from Dudkov's old company who Chazov didn't recognize. He looked like a Tatar. "Is everything all right, soldier?"

"Yes, exactly so, Comrade Lieutenant!" the sentry replied.

"Soldier, let me see your gas-mask bag." The young soldier looked sheepishly at the sack and reluctantly unslung it from his shoulder. Chazov took it, and was surprised by its weight. Much too heavy for a gas mask! And a bit too much clanking noise for a gas-mask bag. Chazov unfastened the strap and spilled the contents out onto the ground. From the dim light of his flashlight he could see at least four RGN concussion grenades and two more RGO fragmentation grenades. There were four 30mm BG-15 grenades for the squad grenadiers, an extra clip of 5.45mm ammunition for the private's AKS-74 assault rifle, and a couple of boxes of 5.45mm ammunition. The tools of a good infantryman. But no gas mask.

"Soldier, where is your gas mask?"

"I lost it, Comrade Captain, when our BMP burned."

Probably a lie, thought Chazov. "Soldier, you know you must keep your chemical protective gear with you at all times!"

"Yes, exactly so, Comrade Captain!" Chazov didn't see any more point in berating the private. Maybe he did lose it in the BMP fire.

Chazov returned to his BMP-2. His two platoon commanders, Lieutenant Shepel and Lieutenant Khalkin, were there waiting for him along with his zampolit, Lieutenant Sudro.

"Well, gentlemen, how's Dudkov's bunch doing?"

Pavel Sudro, the senior of the trio, answered. "Well, they've lost all three platoon commanders. The highest ranking trooper left is Senior Sergeant Vasilev. You know, that guy you talked to on the radio. He's a real makaroniki.[65]

He's completely gone… useless. There's a young squad leader, a Ukrainian kid named Burak, who seems pretty decent. He took charge of the platoon that dismounted during the fighting and he kept them together. The other soldiers seem to have confidence in him. There's about fifty of them, so I gave some of the extras to the 1st and 2d platoons."

Chazov asked, "Can't we shift one of our sergeants over there?"

"Pyotr, we need our guys," Khalkin replied. "I really don't think we can spare anyone, especially with Dudkov's leftovers. A lot of those guys are really demoralized. Our sergeants are going to have to sit on them. Besides, there's no real hotshots in our platoons. You know what they're like. They're not a bad bunch, but taking care of a new platoon? No chance. We have our hands full as it is."

Chazov nodded in agreement. "Sorry, Pavel Aleksandrovich. You're stuck with them." Sudro shook his head.

"Now listen," said Chazov. "The brass from Front HQ are planning to gas those fucking nyemtsi tomorrow before we attack. They're going to dump a big load of insecticide on the town using a few salvos of Grads. They want to soften them up. This isn't going to be like fighting the dushmani with gas.[66]

The nyemtsi probably have gas masks. If we catch them by surprise, we might panic them.

That'll make our job easier. The main trick is to keep our troops calm. We'll be using Agent AC. It's not persistent. It's only lethal if you breathe it in. The gas boys tell us most of it will be gone by the time we reach the town. So we only need masks. You two, check out your platoons and make sure everybody has a mask,

I'll go with Sudro and check the situation with Dudkov's old bunch. Also check on the slime suits. We'll meet back here in an hour."

As Chazov had feared, a lot of Dudkov's troopers had thrown away their gas masks. Fortunately, one of the platoons had thrown most of the masks into the compartment behind the engine in their BMPs where spare Fagot missiles are carried. Out of the fifty-four troops, Chazov counted forty-four gas masks and only twenty OP-1 protective suits. The divisional chemical officers had told him earlier in the evening that he could expect no additional gear from them. All the units had the same problem. But he had scrounged a half-dozen masks and some slime suits from one of the divisional artillery units. Khalkin's and Shepel's platoons were in much better shape. Both had a full load of gas masks and about ninety percent of their OP-1 suits.

The three officers met near Chazov's BMP at about 2200 to plan the attack. The BMP has a chemical filtration system to protect troops inside from chemical weapons. Chazov decided that the squad without gas masks would remain inside the BMPs during the attack. The extra two squads of men from Dudkov's old outfit would ride to the dismount point up on the roof of the BMP, wearing their masks. It was risky, but better than leaving the extra troops behind. It was going to be a tough fight, and Chazov needed all the men he could get. He decided against having his troops don the OP-1 suits. There were not enough to go around, and he didn't want any trouble over that. The troops without the suits might act gun-shy of entering the town. Besides, the OP-1 suits would make the attack very difficult to carry out.

The OP-1 slime suit consists of a chemically impregnated set of long johns, which is worn under the normal uniform. On top of this is worn a coverall made of rubberized fabric. It's called a slime suit because when you decontaminate it with caustic soaps, it feels slimy to the touch. There are also clumsy rubber mittens for the hands and a hood to go over the helmet. The suit works well to keep out chemicals, but the outer rubber coverall is impenetrable to moisture, so sweat does not evaporate. This is acceptable for an hour or so if the troops are riding in vehicles. But strenuous activity can lead to rapid heat exhaustion and unconsciousness. Troops wearing the OP-1 suit would have a hard time carrying out an attack on foot on a hot day. The face masks would soon steam up, and the men would have a hard time seeing. Heat prostration would set in rapidly, and the soldiers would be useless in forty minutes.

It was risky either way. Wearing the suits would cause all sorts of problems. Not wearing the suits would cause problems only if the Germans retaliated with gas at some point during the fighting. Chazov hoped that his company would be warned by division HQ if such a retaliatory gas attack was expected, so he'd have time to get his troops into protective suits or into the BMPs. There's damn little certainty in war.

The attack on Geiselhoring was scheduled to begin at 0530. In the autumn, the area has early morning mists, which would help hide the attacking Soviet forces. The gas attack would not be preceded by normal artillery fire. The artillery officers hoped to catch a lot of German troops in their sleep, not wearing protective gear.

In Geiselhoring, at least, this was not to be. The first salvo of BM-21 Grad rocket projectiles began slamming into the town at 0515. Or at least near the town. Multiple rocket launchers like the BM-21 Grad have bad dispersion problems at long ranges, and this attack was no exception. Many of the rounds fell to the south of the town, where they killed a lot of the livestock abandoned when the civilians fled two days before. As soon as the first rounds struck Geiselhoring, Chazov started to move his company out of the woods and toward the town, five kilometers away. The plan called for the regiment's tanks to lead the attack, about 1,000 meters in front of the BMPs. There would be one tank company attached to each BMP battalion. If resistance was light, the BMPs were to proceed right up to the edge of town and dismount their troops. If any heavy antitank fire was encountered, the BMPs would dismount their troops 2,000 meters from the town, outside the range of the Milan antitank missiles. The tanks would suppress the Milan sites with gunfire, supported by the woodpeckers on the BMPs.

Major Barchuk's BMP battalion, to which Chazov's company belonged, had only two companies left. Chazov's company was the best equipped, so it was directed toward a built-up area at the southern edge of the town. Captain Savin's understrength company was to his left, aiming for the road on the southern edge of the town. An understrength company of six T-80M tanks was right in front of Chazov's company. He warned his troops to stay away from these tanks during the fighting. The T-80Ms were covered with reactive armor, and if the reactive armor went off near infantry, it could kill unprotected foot soldiers nearby (see Chapter 3).

To his right, Chazov could see the other battalions forming up for the attack. The area in front of the town consisted of fairly flat farm fields, and there was little cover for the infantry except for a few irrigation ditches. The main German positions were in the rubble at the edge of town. More troops could be expected inside. The day before, they had knocked out the four Leopard tanks supporting the infantry company in the town, but who knew what reinforcements the Germans had managed to scrape up the night before. Maybe they had even abandoned the town last night! Fat chance.

The tanks moved forward at a top speed of about thirty-five miles per hour, with the BMPs bouncing a thousand meters behind. The BMP-2 could easily keep up with the T-80s, but it was a rough ride. The torsion bar suspension was stiff, and every time a bump was hit, the soldiers' heads slammed against the low steel roof. The rough ride, the stench of diesel fumes, and the smell of the rubber chemical masks made many of the soldiers nauseous. They each had a small periscope in front of them to see outside. But the ride was so rough it was hard to keep an eye on the periscope long enough to see what was happening. The soldiers were bunched up in the back of the vehicle with no room to move. It was dark except for a small electric light bulb at one end of the compartment, which did little more than create strange shadows. The inside of a BMP on an attack run was no place for someone prone to claustrophobia.

An element of fear was added by nagging memories of the BMPs that had been destroyed in previous skirmishes. The soldiers knew that at any moment a Milan antitank missile might come slamming into the vehicle, incinerating the crew. In four days of fighting, they had seen plenty of examples of what happens when a BMP is hit with an antiarmor missile.

The BMP is so full of ammunition and fuel that a solid hit nearly anywhere leads to a catastrophic fire or explosion. Seldom does any of the crew survive. The German troops had begun calling the vehicles "Ivan cookers." After a few kilometers, the troops were very anxious to get out of the BMPs into the open air. It was hard to keep the men calm. Chazov realized that it would be especially difficult to control the troops with the added fear of gas mixed in.

The men from Dudkov's old company were riding on the back roof of the BMPs behind the turret. They were very vulnerable to artillery, but it was better than walking the five kilometers.

It was a real adventure trying to hold on with the BMPs going thirty-five miles an hour. But in a way, the ride was less draining for the troops on the roofs than it was for those canned up inside. They could clearly see the ruins of the town in the front of them and the waves of BMPs and T-80 tanks advancing to either side. Reality was far less frightening than the frenzied imaginings of the troops cramped together inside. The town was obscured by mist and by a cloud of smoke from the gas attack. No German positions were visible. If they were still alive, they were holding their fire.

When the first wave of tanks got about 1,500 meters from the town, eerie flickers of Milan missiles could be seen racing through the mist. If the Milan was coming right in your direction, the small tail flare was nearly impossible to see. But the missiles fired at neighboring units could be seen skimming a few feet over the ground. At least two T-80Ms in front of Chazov's company were hit. There was a big flash as the missile and reactive armor went off almost simultaneously. At first it was hard to tell the results. Some German units still had the old Milan 2 missiles.

These couldn't get through reactive armor. But some had the improved Milan 2T, which had a fifty-fifty chance of burning through reactive armor. So much flame and dust were thrown up when the missile hit, it was difficult to tell if the tanks had survived. As the smoke cleared, Chazov could see that the crew of one tank was bailing out. Their coveralls were on fire. The tank erupted as an internal fire reached the ammunition under the turret and cooked off. Chazov watched in horror as the turret flew up in the air, somersaulting like a carelessly tossed skillet.

He hoped his men hadn't seen it. Obviously, there was going to be a fight for this town.

Chazov ordered his company to prepare to dismount. They were still more than two kilometers from the town, but he didn't want to risk losing any BMPs to the missiles. The mist would cover the advance of his infantry. He warned the BMP-2 gunners to be careful not to fire too low, for fear of hitting their own men. While climbing out of his BMP-2, Chazov noticed that the neighboring BMP companies on either side were following suit.

His troops were deployed in a standard skirmish line, as they had practiced so often in peacetime training. They advanced at a slight crouch, Kalashnikovs at the hip. The line was a bit ragged, but then this was no parade ground. German small arms fire could be expected in another 500 meters. There was one real advantage to the Soviet style of training: It was very simple.

Even troops scared witless could remember the basic drill. Chazov's men seemed relieved to be outside of the BMPs. They were moving forward without hesitation.

Chazov heard the whine of incoming artillery rockets overhead. He instinctively hit the ground. Afghanistan had taught him the sound of artillery rockets. The dushmani loved those Chinese artillery rockets! The rounds must have passed overhead, but he did not hear the usual groundshaking crunch of their impact. Instead there was a series of loud bangs, more like grenades than normal artillery. It suddenly occurred to him why. The Germans were firing gas rounds back.

Shit!

Chazov couldn't have known it, but NATO intelligence had expected a Soviet gas attack along this front. The day before, several reconnaissance drones had spotted Soviet chemical troops preparing decontamination facilities in the rear. Soviet communication nets started behaving in a peculiar fashion, and Soviet artillery units were obviously receiving an unusual munition. Soviet deceptive measures, maskirovka, had failed them. Local German and American artillery units were supplied with chemical munitions and authorized to use them if the Soviets attacked first. Troops along the front were instructed to don their protective gear at the first signs of a Soviet attack. The German garrison in Geiselhoring expected the early morning attack and had donned their suits at 0300. The NATO forces decided to use a nerve gas in hope of forcing the Soviets to don full protective suits as well. This would slow them down a bit.

The first salvo of gas projectiles burst among the BMPs behind the advancing wave of infantry.

A few also seemed to hit in front. But in the mist it was hard to tell. One soldier in the company carried a small gas testing kit. But it was manual, and you had to be inside the cloud of gas to tell what type it was. By that time, it would be too late. Chazov was a bit confused. The troops had stopped moving forward and were crouched near the ground, looking around aimlessly.

Chazov signaled to his radioman to bring the manpack radio over to him. He called back to Sergeant Aksai in the command BMP. "Any word from division about a German gas attack?" There was a lot of static on the line, probably NATO jamming. He could barely hear Aksai even though he was only 500 meters away.

"Comrade Lieutenant, the divisional warning net said they've been hit by a nerve agent attack. They instruct all units to don protective gear immediately." Nerve gas!

Chazov instructed Sergeant Aksai to warn the other platoons. "Everyone with OP-1 suits, don them immediately and withdraw to the BMPs for further instruction. Everyone without suits, back to the BMPs immediately and get inside. BMPs to start up vehicle overpressure and filtration systems. Keep all doors and hatches closed except in absolute emergencies."

A second salvo of artillery rockets struck the regiment. A few landed right in the midst of the BMPs, some of the others nearer to the troops. There was panic everywhere he looked. Some of the soldiers broke and ran with no regard for their equipment. The worst affected were those without chemical suits. A few from Sudro's platoon got about halfway back to the BMPs when they encountered the first mists of nerve gas. After a few gulps they collapsed to the ground, shuddering with uncontrollable twitches as the gas attacked their nervous system. Some troops kept calm and hurriedly put on the outer OP-1 coveralls. There was no time to strip, and don the undergarment and then the coveralls. The outer coveralls would have to do. Pretty soon, Chazov was surrounded by a platoon of bugeyed Martians. The slime suits came in a pea green and rusty orange color, not the usual drab khaki of Soviet military uniforms. Chazov led his remaining men back to the BMPs at a slow pace to prevent premature exhaustion. It took a lot of courage to do this under the circumstances. Some soldiers tried to run ahead, but the exertion soon forced them to stop.

About a hundred meters to the north, Chazov could see the effects of the gas. A squad from Sudro's platoon had been very near to one of the first nerve gas rockets that exploded. Many of them didn't have suits, but they probably wouldn't have done them much good anyway. The concentrations were so high that their exposed skin absorbed fatal doses. The nerve agent acted as an extreme nerve stimulant, causing convulsions and difficulty breathing. Most of the squad had fallen on the ground, where contamination by the aerosol was even worse. Some soldiers threw off their gas masks in panic, and inhalation of the nerve agent brought death even quicker. The screams, twitching, and convulsions scared the surviving soldiers. Even the units in suits were near panic when they arrived back at the BMPs.

A few soldiers without suits had gotten back to the BMPs before the main group. They had quickly climbed into two of the BMPs, where the overpressure and filtration system could protect them. Lieutenant Khalkin was at the fore of the main group and had seen this. Now he was in a quandary. Since the soldiers with OP-1 suits had walked through areas contaminated by the nerve agent, there was probably agent on their boots and on the protective suits. If these exposed troops entered the BMPs, they would contaminate the unprotected soldiers. Khalkin blocked the entrance to one of the BMPs and tried to direct the contaminated troops to those BMPs without unprotected soldiers inside. The voice emitter on his gas mask made it very difficult for him to communicate with the troops. There was some pushing and shoving. The soldiers were in a near panic and, with their suits on, could barely hear Khalkin. Enemy artillery soon settled the matter.

The nerve gas attack was followed by a conventional artillery barrage. It wasn't particularly heavy, only a few dozen rounds in the battalion sector. But the enemy artillerymen had chosen the worst (or best) possible moment to strike. With most of the Soviet infantry still out of the BMPs, the battalion was hit by a barrage of antipersonnel ICMs. Dozens of small explosions began going off all around.

The fireworks caused by the burst of the ICMs finally broke the last vestiges of control that Chazov had over his men. Those who survived the ICM attack packed into the BMPs, the unprotected soldiers be damned! There was a mad scramble to get in as fast as possible. Chazov managed to climb onto the roof of his BMP-2 command vehicle and enter through the turret hatch.

Once inside, many of the men began to calm down. But there was a hellish scene inside two of the BMPs. BMP 412 had four soldiers of the 3d Platoon inside without OP-1 suits. When seven soldiers with suits came charging in during the artillery barrage, these four soldiers were pushed into the left tunnel leading to the driver's station. The nerve agent on the suits and in the outside air began to affect the unprotected soldiers. The vehicle had a medical kit with atropine injectors as nerve agent antidotes, but the troops were in such a panic that no one thought to use it. Two of the soldiers began to vomit and suffer convulsions. They were forcibly shoved away from the back compartment, where the protected troops were sitting. After a few minutes, one of the sergeants remembered the atropine kits and injected the contaminated soldiers. They were unconscious but still alive. A measure of calm was finally restored. In BMP 417 the driver and gunner were without suits, and they suffered much the same fate as the four soldiers in BMP 412.

Chazov's command vehicle, BMP 410, was crowded, but everyone had suits. He began making radio calls to the neighboring BMPs to check their status. The gas masks used by officers and radiomen have small voice devices to permit them to issue commands and to use radio equipment. But the sound quality is lousy. Of the ten BMPs, two were unresponsive. Through the periscope, Chazov could see that their rear doors were open. They were probably contaminated. They were near the impact point of some of the nerve gas rockets, and their crews had probably been killed by gas before they could get their suits on. Once the artillery fire stopped, Chazov sent two sergeants from the command vehicle to check them out. The eight other vehicles were in varying states. The two nearest BMP-2s were fairly intact, with nineteen troops between them. Three more vehicles had only six men each. BMPs 412 and 417 had a total of twenty-two soldiers, of whom six were contaminated. This added up to sixty-six of the one hundred twenty men who had started the attack. At least two squads, about twenty men, had been killed outright by the gas. About twenty-five more had been wounded in the subsequent artillery barrage. Left in the open with nerve gas on the ground and in the air, they soon became comatose. The other men were missing and presumed dead. Chazov tried to get the BMPs to send out parties to help the wounded, but the troops were in no mood to budge from the security of their armored vehicles. And Chazov was in no mood to threaten them. As the sun came up, the insides of the vehicles started to bake. The suits became unbearably warm, and it became tiring to move.

Chazov was unable to raise the other battalions on his radio. The frequencies were being jammed, or the sets were inoperable. He used the telescopic sight of the woodpecker autocannon to try to find out about neighboring units. There was no evidence of any Soviet vehicles to his immediate right except for some burning tanks and BMPs. There were several BMPs to his left, but little sign of action. Fortunately, the German's Milan missiles were out of range. Sergeant Vrobel volunteered to walk over to the neighboring company. Chazov told him to take it easy and walk slowly. There was no sense getting heat stress.

Chazov realized that his unit wasn't fit for further action. The vehicles would have to be pulled back soon and decontaminated. The troops inside would eventually be overcome by the heat, even just sitting and waiting. They might become uncontrollable and do stupid things like try to take off their masks to cool down. It was imperative to reach regimental or divisional command and find out what provisions were being made for decontamination.

Chazov tried raising regimental HQ on the radio, but there was too much jamming. He finally managed to get through on one of the alternate nets. The radioman on the other end told him to keep his unit in place and await further orders. Chazov asked about provisions for decontamination. They were cut off by another burst of jamming before he got a reply. He started to think about sending one of the vehicles back to HQ for further information. Before he could decide, the Germans started getting active.

It was a sight Chazov dreaded. From over the town he saw the glint of helicopter rotors. It wasn't clear if it was just a scout helicopter or an attack helicopter. He let the gunner get back into his seat, and moved over to the commander's seat in the turret. His gunner took the helicopter in aim but it was a bit too far to engage. From the corner of his eye Chazov caught the bright flash of a missile tracing flare. A HOT antitank missile, fired by an unseen second helicopter, hit BMP 412. It exploded against the turret, causing a gaping hole. Secondary explosions started from burning 30mm autocannon ammunition. The fire licked up against three stowed Konkurs missiles, which blew up, igniting the fuel tank in the back. In seconds, the whole vehicle was engulfed in flames. No one could have survived. These damn BMPs burned like torches!

The BMP-2 on the right caught sight of the helicopter. It was a tiny German PAH-1, armed with six HOT missiles. The woodpecker on BMP 416 began hammering away at the chopper, but it scooted out of range to the safety of the town. If the situation wasn't bad enough, Chazov spotted some German infantry sneaking out of the town toward the Soviet lines. The Germans had the luxury of modern chemical suits. They were charcoal coated, with permeable surfaces that permitted sweat to evaporate. It was no picnic to run with heavy weapons in such a suit, but it was a lot more practical than the Soviet rubber suits.

Chazov decided it was pointless to keep his vehicles here. There was no evidence that the rest of the regiment was continuing the attack. His BMPs were waiting like sitting ducks for more helicopter attacks. Those damn PAH-ls could wipe out his company without even needing to reload. And the German infantry were probably tank-hunter teams, armed with Panzerfaust antitank rockets.

Ignoring his previous orders, Chazov signaled to his troops to begin a staggered pullback to the woods they had occupied the night before. The company was useless as a combat force. It was down to seven BMPs and less than fifty men. The vehicles were too badly contaminated to permit normal combat operations. The troops were too frightened and exhausted to fight.

Sergeant Dobrovolskiy's BMP led the way and continued on to regimental HQ to check on the matter of decontamination equipment. The company waited in the woods for nearly an hour before Dobrovolskiy returned, bringing back three decontamination kits. One kit contained soap and bleach to clean up the troops. In peacetime practice, personnel cleanup had always been done in a prepared facility, with showers. Here, there wasn't enough water or equipment. It all had to be done laboriously by hand. At least once out of the vehicles, it was a bit easier to cool down.

Chazov still found it very difficult to control the men. Ignoring the usual precautions, some of the soldiers simply removed their OP-1 suits without rinsing first. It was dangerous, although by then most of the nerve agent had evaporated. Everything was done in such a hurry that it wasn't clear which suits had been cleaned and which ones had not. There were two canisters of a special caustic agent to wash down the BMPs. But to wash out the insides, it would be necessary to get back into the suits, which were now in heaps scattered along the edge of the forest floor. No one dared touch them for fear they were still coated with nerve agent. Chazov, Dobrovolskiy, and Khalkin had taken the trouble to scrub their suits before removing them. So the three men were given their suits and assigned the laborious task of cleaning out the insides of the BMPs. They managed to clean two of them before water and caustic agent ran out. The rest of the troops were sent to dig in and prepare defensive positions at the edge of the woods. He hoped that the woods hadn't been hit by chemicals. If the Germans decided to use chemicals again, they were done for.

This fictional account of the attack on Geiselhoring highlights the temptations for the Soviets to use chemical weapons, as well as the enormous risks. This scenario shows the most likely conditions for the use of chemical weapons. The tempo of a vital operation has been thrown off by determined resistance. Conventional means to smash the resistance in built-up areas has proven to be a failure. Something out of the ordinary seems necessary. Chemical weapons are seen as a panacea in such a situation. They hold the allure of providing the shock needed to break a stalemate.

The first use of chemical weapons could be expected to have enormous psychological impact on unprepared defenders. Soldiers who have proven very resistant to conventional weapons might break and run when the added horror of chemical weapons is unleashed on them. It is not inconceivable that this could have a decisive effect on the outcome of a war. Such an expectation would be the main reason for employing chemical weapons.

Other factors support such a decision. Soviet troops train regularly with chemical weapons and simulated chemical weapons. Soviet military leaders might expect that their troops would perform well in chemical warfare conditions since they are familiar with it, better than NATO troops would perform under these conditions. Soviet officers could harbor the illusion that they have a decided edge on the chemical battlefield. The Soviet Army has substantial stockpiles of a wide variety of chemical weapons, allowing the front commander to choose chemicals tailored to a particular task. But the main attraction is the surprise effect.

As the scenario of the attack on Geiselhoring suggests, many of these expectations may prove to be dead wrong. Indeed, the use of chemical weapons could prove to be a major mistake for an attacking force. The use of chemical weapons forces both sides to engage in time-consuming and complicated chemical protective measures. Troops have to be adequately supplied with chemical suits, decontamination equipment, and additional medical support. Tasks that normally take thirty minutes would take hours in a contaminated environment. Chemical contamination is a glue that slows down the tempo of operations. If it does not have an immediate and decisive effect on its first use, then it backfires on the attacker. The Soviets as the aggressor would be far more dependent on the speed and tempo of operations than NATO would be as the defender. These points are worth examining in detail.

The Soviet Army, like most modern armies, has been interested in chemical warfare since World War I. The Tsarist army suffered monstrous casualties in World War I, largely because it was technically unprepared.

In the wake of these horrors, the new Red Army of the 1920s made a determined effort to prepare for the use of chemical weapons. It has maintained this interest through the present.

Although chemical weapons did not have a decisive impact on the Western Front in World War I, they proved more effective in the East. Russian troops were so ill prepared that gas attacks by the Germans were far more successful than comparable attacks against French or British troops. The Russians suffered at least 50,000 dead and more than a half million injured from German gas attacks in World War I. Chemical weapons had not changed greatly by the time of World War II. The main types of chemicals were blister agents like mustard gas, which burn out the inside of the lung and can cause severe skin burns and blinding. Neither the Allied nor Axis forces used chemical weapons during World War II.

Blister agents were not suitable for the more mobile style of war waged in Europe. In addition, both sides were deterred from using chemicals since both were well stocked with such agents. The trigger for their use in World War I had been the expectation that they would be a major surprise and have a decisive effect. In World War II, surprise could not be expected, greatly diminishing the incentive for first use.

Although World War II did not see the use of chemical weapons, it did see the development of several revolutionary new chemical agents. The most lethal of these were the new nerve gases. Blister agents like mustard gas require heavy contact to have any effect. Simple precautions like a gas mask and adequate clothing can prevent most detrimental effects. But nerve gases can attack through the skin as well as the respiratory system. A gas mask alone is inadequate. Full body protection is needed, with no skin exposed to the air. The amounts of agent needed to kill are far smaller, only seventy to one hundred milligrams — a small drop of liquid. It took decades to develop medical treatment for these agents and to devise protective equipment. Without these, nerve gas would be as dangerous to the side that used it as to its opponents. By the 1960s, chemical protective suits and medical treatments were available.

The Soviet Army began a major program of chemical warfare modernization beginning in the mid-1960s. Soviet units are amply provided for waging chemical warfare, with both the weapons and the protective equipment. And there is strong evidence that they have experimented with chemical weapons in a number of circumstances, notably in Afghanistan.

Soviet motor rifle and tank divisions have an extensive infrastructure for chemical defense. Each division has a chemical defense battalion, and each of its four component regiments has its own chemical company. In total, about 500 soldiers in each division, about 4 percent, are devoted to chemical defense tasks. The division has a wide range of equipment for chemical defense, ranging from mobile decontamination facilities to individual protective suits.

Soviet equipment since the 1960s has been designed to fight in a chemically contaminated environment. All the standard combat vehicles are fitted with chemical protective equipment. Armored vehicles have a system of air filtration to remove chemical contaminants from the air breathed by the crew. The vehicles are also fitted with an overpressure system to keep contaminants out of the vehicle. Soviet tanks have had this feature since the mid-1960s. In contrast, American tanks did not have such a system until the mid-1980s, and only a tiny fraction of American armored vehicles have been equipped.

The Soviet Army has a number of specialized vehicles to operate in chemically contaminated areas. In the mid-1960s, they introduced the first chemical scout vehicles. These armored vehicles are sent into contaminated areas to conduct surveys of the type of chemical agent present and the degree of contamination. They are equipped with sensors that can detect all common chemical warfare agents. Each Soviet regiment has four of these, and there are more at divisional level. There have been three generations of these vehicles since the 1960s, the most recent being the RKhM tracked chemical scout vehicle that is fully amphibious. The Soviets also use a full range of manual testing equipment. By themselves, these chemical scout vehicles are not very threatening. But they are indicative of the sophistication and breadth of the Soviet chemical effort. In contrast, the U.S. Army has been talking about such a vehicle for the past few years, but has none in service. At the moment, the U.S. Army relies entirely on manual chemical testing kits.

The individual Soviet soldier is provided with a chemical protective suit and a chemical mask.

As the scenario has depicted, the standard Soviet suit, the OP-1, is no joy to use. It is clumsy, slow to don, and dangerous to the user in many circumstances. But it is better than nothing.

This is one area where NATO has a clear advantage. In the mid-1970s, the British Army came up with a new semipermeable material for chemical suits. It allows sweat to evaporate, but does not allow chemical agents to enter. This is a major breakthrough, since it means that the soldiers can operate in a more normal fashion. The Soviets' rubberized suits can be debilitating in hot weather, or even in cold weather if a lot of exertion is called for, although they are reusable once they have been washed. The main disadvantage of the new NATO suits is that they must be replaced fairly often, since certain chemicals can break down their filtering abilities. The Soviets have continued to use washable, rubberized fabric for the time being, in spite of its disadvantages. They have shown little interest in the NATO permeable suits, probably due to the high cost of the NATO-style suits, as well as a certain backwardness in Soviet textile technology.

The same applies to chemical masks. The no-frills approach reigns here as well. The Soviets rely on cheap masks with replaceable filters. There are none of the clever features used on NATO face masks. For example, certain NATO face masks have a small opening that permits the soldier to drink water from his canteen. While this may seem to be a luxury, the main problem of all suits, even the permeable ones, is that they invariably lead to the soldier heating up and sweating. Combine the normal stress of combat, sweating, and the resultant dehydration, and you get a debilitating heat exhaustion. A few mouthfuls of water become a medical necessity, not a luxury. Also, Soviet officers and radiomen receive face masks with voice emitters, but the rest of the troops receive chemical face masks without emitters since they are cheaper to manufacture. As a result, under chemical warfare conditions, it is virtually impossible for the troops to communicate with one another. This is another impediment to the smooth functioning of a combat unit.

The problem faced by the Soviets is that their army is so enormous, all these little economies are necessary if everyone is to be provided with equipment. They feel that mediocre protection is better than none at all.

In the area of chemical weapons, the Soviets probably have the world's largest stockpile. The U.S. estimates that the Soviet military has on the order of 500,000 tons of chemical agents, ranging from simple blood agents, like the Agent AC previously described, to sophisticated nerve gases. Delivery methods are ample, ranging from chemical hand grenades to large bombs capable of carrying more than a ton of nerve gas. The usual Soviet method for delivering chemical agents on the battlefield is artillery. This includes conventional artillery cannon, as well as artillery rockets and missiles. The cannon would be used to attack targets up to 30 miles from the battle line; the missiles could be used to attack vital targets like airfields and command posts up to 250 miles from the battle line.

It can be argued that much of this Soviet equipment simply points to a prudent concern about defending Soviet troops in the event of chemical attacks. This is not plausible for a variety of reasons. The Soviet buildup in chemical weapons and the related protective equipment came at a time when NATO showed very little interest in chemical warfare. If NATO had had any serious interest in chemical weapons between the 1950s and 1960s, this would have been manifest in defensive measures like chemical defense suites on armored vehicles.

Soviet interest in chemical warfare has been long-standing, but the surge of effort in the mid-1960s is probably due to refinements in Soviet doctrine. At that time Soviet military planners were making revolutionary changes in their war plans. The Soviet military leadership had previously assumed that all wars with NATO would inevitably turn nuclear. Compared to tactical nuclear weapons, chemical weapons were little more than an interesting curiosity. Soviet strategists began arguing that the enormous strategic nuclear arsenals created a stalemate.

Neither the U.S. nor the USSR would dare use tactical nuclear weapons on a European battlefield, since there was the risk that it would escalate to strategic nuclear exchanges against the American and Soviet homelands. Because of this stalemate, a war in Europe would likely be nonnuclear.

Due to this radical rethinking of Soviet military doctrine, weapons planners began looking afresh at chemical weapons. Chemical weapons have certain attractive features to an invading force, primarily an enormous psychological advantage against an unprepared defender. And in the early 1970s, NATO was certainly unprepared. The Soviet Army began an extensive training program for its troops. Soviet soldiers became accustomed to using chemical weapons and working in chemically contaminated environments. They began training with chemical decontamination gear to an extent unprecedented in NATO. And the Soviet Union began acquiring new chemical weapons and chemical warfare systems.

The presumption that chemicals would be used on a conventional battlefield became so prevalent that it seeped into the marrow of Soviet tactics. This is manifest in many small ways. Soviet books and magazines aimed at officers provide guidelines for operating in a chemical environment. To take but a single example, Soviet publications instructing Soviet officers on the standard methods of notating tactical battle maps provide extensive details about how to mark up different types of chemical contamination.

Soviet Army defectors have made it clear that the Soviet Army regularly includes in its war games and staff exercises plans to use chemical weapons against NATO. This is not particularly surprising in view of Soviet force structure, tactical doctrine, and training.

In spite of the enormous scale of Soviet preparations for the use of chemical weapons in a conventional war, doubts must still linger in the minds of Soviet planners. Chemical warfare seems like an intriguing technical solution to battlefield requirements in the calm of peacetime. But in the confusion of war, it threatens to unleash a host of devilish problems.

The scenario of the attack on Geiselhoring highlights some of these. To begin with, peacetime preparations do not always prove adequate in war. The Soviet Army might start a war with chemical defensive measures in place. But a few days of war would disrupt these. Unless chemicals were used from the outset, chemical defense preparations might begin to dissolve. Soldiers would lose or misplace their chemical protective gear. Chemical defense companies would be stripped of their personnel to serve as replacements in more critical combat functions. Decontamination trucks would be given less priority for fuel or rail transport in favor of ammunition and other essentials.

Some of these problems could be avoided by the use of chemical weapons right from the outset of the fighting. In such a case, the carefully prepared chemical defense equipment would be in place and ready to go. However, this would come at an enormous cost.

That cost would not be borne by the troops of either NATO or the Warsaw Pact, but by the civilian populations near the battlefield. Modern chemical agents are so lethal that full protective equipment is essential. It would be impossibly expensive to equip the population along the German border with this type of equipment. As a result, any chemical attack would cause massive civilian losses of a magnitude that might prompt the NATO countries to respond in kind against East German or other Warsaw Pact cities, and could very well lead to a cycle of escalation eventually culminating in a nuclear exchange. The basic premise of any Soviet attack on NATO would be to limit it to the conventional level. Any action that might eventually trigger the use of nuclear weapons would have to be avoided.

For this reason, it seems likely that the use of chemical weapons would be curtailed until their effects would fall mainly on military targets. Chemical weapons are too indiscriminate to use when military and civilian targets are mingled, as they would be at the outset of a war. Once the war broke out, however, it is likely that the civilian population would soon flee, which would remove a major constraint in the Soviet use of chemical weapons.

Another major constraint on Soviet use of chemical weapons would be concern about the performance of Soviet troops in a chemical environment. It is one thing to practice chemical warfare in peacetime; it is quite a different matter to actually use it in wartime.

Soviet peacetime training is notoriously contrived. Their war maneuvers smack more of military choreography than military training. Simple drills, like donning a chemical suit or scrubbing down a vehicle, are realistically rehearsed, and rehearsed quite often. But more elaborate exercises are needed to simulate the real pressures of war. Such exercises would include an attack under simulated chemical conditions, followed by prolonged exercises while still in chemical gear, culminating in the decontamination of the men and equipment some hours later. Full-blown exercises of this kind do take place. But the results often give Soviet officers reason to pause before using chemical weapons.

Soviet protective gear is so uncomfortable that troops have discovered ways to circumvent it during peacetime practice. According to former Soviet soldiers, it is common for them to detach the air hose leading to the filter can. This would render the mask useless in wartime, but in a peacetime exercise where no real gas is present, it makes it easier to breathe. Decontamination exercises are similarly unrealistic. The drill is often practiced on old worn-out vehicles. Usually only the outside is scrubbed down, ignoring the difficulties and dangers involved in cleaning out the interior of a contaminated vehicle. Soviet officers are undoubtedly aware of the problems with these staged exercises. The more professional officers must have doubts about how these procedures would be carried out in a real war.

As unrealistic as these peacetime war games may be, they do impress the average Soviet officer with the exhausting and time-consuming nature of chemical defense. This could be a major disincentive to the Soviet use of chemical weapons. Any Soviet attack against NATO must be based on the idea of a rapid offensive across the German plains before NATO could adequately mobilize. The use of chemical weapons would slow the pace of the Soviet advance by obligating the use of protective gear. After an attack was made, the vehicles and troops would have to be arduously decontaminated before another attack would be possible. This would disrupt the momentum of the attack and slow the pace of the advance, which is extremely undesirable from the Soviet perspective.

The Achilles' heel of the Soviet Army is its rear areas. The troops at the front may be well provided with chemical protection gear, but many of the rear area troops are not. Support troops who bring forward critical supplies, ammunition, and food are not as well prepared for chemical warfere as the fighting branches. The Soviets do not appear to have developed protective shelters that would enable command facilities to function if NATO retaliated with chemicals. Soviet command vans are usually provided with filtration systems. But the vans cannot sustain the command elements in the presence of persistent chemical agents like certain nerve gases. They have no beds, toilet facilities, or decontamination features. Chemical attack of their rear support areas would be a nightmare for Soviet military leaders. Tanks without frequent resupplies of gas and ammunition are useless scrap metal. Infantry without food and ammunition has no attacking power.

An essential element in any Soviet plans to use chemical weapons is an assessment of NATO's reaction. In the 1970s, NATO was ill prepared to handle a Soviet attack. By the 1980s, NATO had managed to make important strides in chemical defense. The permeable suit developed by Britain is one of the best examples. But there are a host of other examples as well. The U.S.

Army has developed and fielded a number of protective shelters for command centers that could be used in a chemical environment. This shows a much more realistic appreciation for the difficulties of operating in chemical contamination than the Warsaw Pact has demonstrated. NATO planning for chemical warfare in many ways has concentrated on its more mundane aspects, such as logistics and command and control. This must force the Soviets to wonder whether NATO is better prepared to fight a protracted war in chemical conditions. The Soviets might do pretty well in a short war in which chemicals are used primarily against fighting troops, but in prolonged warfare, chemical weapons could threaten many of their support troops and their logistics network.

Soviet military leaders are not unaware of the many problems associated with chemical warfare. In the mid-1980s, these anxieties became more manifest. The Soviets again began to talk seriously about arms controls to limit chemical weapons. In an unprecedented move in 1987, they permitted NATO observers to tour a portion of their main Chemical Weapons Proving Grounds at Shikany. The officials were permitted to see a selection of Soviet chemical weapons and were given limited details of the types of weapons the Soviet Army possesses.

Some NATO hard-liners have argued that this was nothing more than a small concession by the Soviets in hopes of putting NATO off guard. The NATO democracies are subject to public pressures. If there is a popular consensus that chemical weapons should be banned, then there will be little incentive to continue funding NATO chemical defense modernization. The Soviets used this type of maneuver to influence American efforts to deploy a new generation of chemical weapons in the early 1980s, with considerable success. Nevertheless, the Soviets may have come to realize that chemical weapons are more trouble than they are worth. It is questionable whether they could have a significant effect on a conventional battlefield so long as both sides are prepared.

Arms control agreements on chemical weapons, however, are extremely unlikely at the present. Verification would be next to impossible, short of a radical change in Soviet attitudes toward secrecy. Unlike nuclear weapons or missiles, chemicals are easy to conceal. Chemical projectiles look no different from other projectiles. They differ only in their contents. For NATO to verify that all chemical weapons had been destroyed, it would be necessary to allow inspection of virtually every Soviet military facility and every artillery and bomb stockpile. Important strides have been made in getting the USSR to accept intrusive verification, notably the 1987 INF Treaty. This is the first treaty to contain significant verification provisions, allowing American officials to inspect Soviet facilities for treaty violations. It allows the U.S. to visit several dozen facilities in the USSR and other Warsaw Pact countries. But a chemical arms control treaty would require inspections at virtually all Soviet military bases. It seems doubtful that the Kremlin or the KGB would stomach that, at least for now.

Although the fictional scenario presented here depicts the use of chemical weapons, other shock weapons might appear on the battlefield in the not-too-distant future. One of the more likely is laser weapons. They have received a lot of attention in the context of strategic defense and "Star Wars." But whereas the technology for Star Wars is probably a decade in the future, tactical laser weapons are practical today.

Lasers emit a beam of intense, coherent light. At the moment, they are used mainly for range finders and weapons designators. Current laser range finders and designators can blind a person if they happen to hit him in the eyes while the laser is operating. Armies are very careful with lasers during peacetime training.

It does not take a lot of imagination to calculate that lasers could be turned into weapons capable of blinding enemy troops. The existing lasers use very modest power sources. More powerful lasers could be expected to cause considerably more optical damage, and could be powerful enough to damage optical sights like the FLIR and passive night vision sights on tanks.

No army presently talks about developing weapons to blind enemy troops. The outcry from the public would be intense. But such weapons have been under development for at least fifteen years. Although the U.S. Army refuses to talk about laser weapons in any detail, some information on laser protective measures is available. The U.S. Army obviously expects the Soviet Union to be developing laser weapons, and has already begun developing countermeasures. The U.S. Army has spent about $30 million on research and $120 million on laser defensive systems, according to public testimony to the U.S. Congress in 1988. For example, the Stingray program is developing optical filtration and other systems to protect the M2 Bradley infantry fighting vehicle from enemy lasers. For individual protection, filtered eyeglasses are being developed. Special laser hardening techniques are being developed for optical sights.

There may be the same inhibitions against using laser blinding weapons as against using chemical weapons. Both the NATO and the Warsaw Pact countries may be unwilling to be the first to use such systems, since they will inevitably result in the other side retaliating. But there are also the same attractions in using laser weapons as there are in using chemical weapons. Lasers, like chemicals, are shock weapons. The first combat use of such a weapon would probably cause considerable panic among the troops. The affected troops would be defenseless. Lasers are likely to add a new horror to the already lethal modern battlefield.