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When the United States entered World War One, inadequacies in research, manufacturing, and battlefield training left the military at a severe disadvantage in deploying poison gas while American soldiers suffered the highest rate of gas casualties among the belligerent nations. In Behind the Gas Mask , Thomas Faith offers an institutional history of the Chemical Warfare Service, the department tasked with improving the Army's ability to use and defend against chemical weapons. Taking the CWS's story from the trenches to peacetime, he explores how the CWS's work on chemical warfare continued through the 1920s despite deep opposition to the weapons in both military and civilian circles. As Faith shows, the believers in chemical weapons staffing the CWS allied with supporters in the military, government, and private industry to lobby to add chemical warfare to the country's permanent arsenal. Their argument: poison gas represented an advanced and even humane tool in modern war, while its applications for pest control and crowd control made a chemical capacity relevant in peacetime. But conflict with those aligned against chemical warfare forced the CWS to fight for its institutional life--and ultimately led to the U.S. military's rejection of battlefield chemical weapons. The only current book on the Chemical Warfare Service and its times, Behind the Gas Mask offers a thought-provoking view of the history and place of chemical weapons in American warmaking.

Holding Their Breath uncovers just how close Britain, the United States, and Canada came to crossing the red line that restrained chemical weapon use during World War II. Unlike in World War I, belligerents did not release poison gas regularly during the Second World War. Yet, the looming threat of chemical warfare significantly affected the actions and attitudes of these three nations as they prepared their populations for war, mediated their diplomatic and military alliances, and attempted to defend their national identities and sovereignty. The story of chemical weapons and World War II begins in the interwar period as politicians and citizens alike advocated to ban, to resist, and eventually to prepare for gas use in the next war. M. Girard Dorsey reveals, through extensive research in multinational archives and historical literature, that although poison gas was rarely released on the battlefield in World War II, experts as well as lay people dedicated significant time and energy to the weapon's potential use; they did not view chemical warfare as obsolete or taboo. Poison gas was an influential weapon in World War II, even if not deployed in a traditional way, and arms control, for various reasons, worked. Thus, what did not happen is just as important as what did. Holding Their Breath provides insight into these potentialities by untangling World War II diplomacy and chemical weapons use in a new way.

In their efforts to utilize their medical skills and training in the service of their country, women physicians fought not one but two male-dominated professional hierarchies: the medical and the military establishments. In the process, they also contended with powerful social pressures and constraints. Throughout Women Doctors in War, the authors focus on the medical careers, aspirations, and struggles of individual women, using personal stories to illustrate the unique professional and personal challenges female military physicians have faced. Military and medical historians and scholars in women’s studies will discover a wealth of new information in Women Doctors in War.

At the turn of the twenty-first century, the United States contended with a state-run biological warfare program, bioterrorism, and a pandemic. Together, these threats spurred large-scale government demand for new vaccines, but few have materialized. A new anthrax vaccine has been a priority since the first Gulf War, but twenty years and a billion dollars later, the United States still does not have one. This failure is startling. Historically, the United States has excelled at responding to national health emergencies. World War II era programs developed ten new or improved vaccines, often in time to meet the objectives of particular military missions. Probing the history of vaccine development for factors that foster timely innovation, Kendall Hoyt discovered that vaccine innovation has been falling, not rising, since World War II. This finding is at odds with prevailing theories of market-based innovation and suggests that a collection of nonmarket factors drove mid-century innovation. Ironically, many late-twentieth-century developments that have been celebrated as a boon for innovation—the birth of a biotechnology industry and the rise of specialization and outsourcing—undercut the collaborative networks and research practices that drove successful vaccine projects in the past. Hoyt's timely investigation teaches important lessons for our efforts to rebuild twenty-first-century biodefense capabilities, especially when the financial payback for a particular vaccine is low, but the social returns are high.

As the public increasingly questioned the war in Vietnam, a group of American scientists deeply concerned about the use of Agent Orange and other herbicides started a movement to ban what they called \"ecocide.\" David Zierler traces this movement, starting in the 1940s, when weed killer was developed in agricultural circles and theories of counterinsurgency were studied by the military. These two trajectories converged in 1961 with Operation Ranch Hand, the joint U.S.-South Vietnamese mission to use herbicidal warfare as a means to defoliate large areas of enemy territory. Driven by the idea that humans were altering the world's ecology for the worse, a group of scientists relentlessly challenged Pentagon assurances of safety, citing possible long-term environmental and health effects. It wasn't until 1970 that the scientists gained access to sprayed zones confirming that a major ecological disaster had occurred. Their findings convinced the U.S. government to renounce first use of herbicides in future wars and, Zierler argues, fundamentally reoriented thinking about warfare and environmental security in the next forty years. Incorporating in-depth interviews, unique archival collections, and recently declassified national security documents, Zierler examines the movement to ban ecocide as it played out amid the rise of a global environmental consciousness and growing disillusionment with the containment policies of the cold war era.

The U.S. Armed Forces started integrating its services in 1948, and with that push, more African Americans started rising through the ranks to become officers, although the number of black officers has always been much lower than African Americans’ total percentage in the military. Astonishingly, the experiences of these unknown reformers have largely gone unexamined and unreported, until now. The Black Officer Corps traces segments of the African American officers’ experience from 1946-1973. From generals who served in the Pentagon and Vietnam, to enlisted servicemen and officers' wives, Isaac Hampton has conducted over seventy-five oral history interviews with African American officers. Through their voices, this book illuminates what they dealt with on a day to day basis, including cultural differences, racist attitudes, unfair promotion standards, the civil rights movement, Black Power, and the experience of being in ROTC at Historically Black Colleges. Hampton provides a nuanced study of the people whose service reshaped race relations in the U.S. Armed Forces, ending with how the military attempted to control racism with the creation of the Defense Race Relations Institute of 1971. The Black Officer Corps gives us a much fuller picture of the experience of black officers, and a place to start asking further questions.

On the eve of America's entry into World War II, African American leaders pushed for inclusion in the war effort and, after the war, they mounted a concerted effort to integrate the armed services. Harry S. Truman's decision to issue Executive Order 9981 in 1948, which resulted in the integration of the armed forces, was an important event in twentieth century American history. In Freedom to Serve, Jon E. Taylor gives an account of the presidential order as an event which forever changed the U.S. armed forces, and set a political precedent for the burgeoning civil rights movement. Including press releases, newspaper articles, presidential speeches, and biographical sidebars, Freedom to Serve introduces students to an under-examined event while illuminating the period in a new way. For additional documents, images, and resources please visit the Freedom to Serve companion website at www.routledge.com/cw/criticalmoments

Military veterans may have higher rates of amyotrophic lateral sclerosis (ALS) mortality than non-veterans. Few studies, with sparse exposure information and mixed results, have studied relationships between military-related factors and ALS survival. We evaluated associations between military-related factors and ALS survival among U.S. military veteran cases. We followed 616 medical record-confirmed cases from enrollment (2005-2010) in the Genes and Environmental Exposures in Veterans with Amyotrophic Lateral Sclerosis study until death or July 25, 2013, whichever came first. We ascertained vital status information from several sources within the Department of Veterans Affairs. We obtained information regarding military service, deployments, and 39 related exposures via standardized telephone interviews. We used Cox proportional hazards regression models to estimate hazard ratios (HRs) and 95% confidence intervals. We adjusted for potential confounding and missing covariate data biases via inverse probability weights. We also used inverse probability weights to adjust for potential selection bias among a case group that included a disproportionate number of long-term survivors at enrollment. We observed 446 deaths during 24,267 person-months of follow-up (median follow-up: 28 months). Survival was shorter for cases who served before 1950, were deployed to World War II, or mixed and applied burning agents, with HRs between 1.58 and 2.57. Longer survival was associated with exposure to: paint, solvents, or petrochemical substances; local food not provided by the Armed Forces; or burning agents or Agent Orange in the field with HRs between 0.56 and 0.73. Although most military-related factors were not associated with survival, associations we observed with shorter survival are potentially important because of the large number of military veterans.

Historical research on pathology and laboratory medicine services in World War I has been limited. In the Spanish American War, these efforts were primarily focused on tropical diseases. World War I problems that could be addressed by pathology and laboratory medicine were strikingly different because of the new field of clinical pathology. Geographic differences, changing war tactics, and trench warfare created new issues. To describe the scope of pathology and laboratory medicine services in World War I and the value these services brought to the war effort. Available primary and secondary sources related to American Expeditionary Forces' laboratory services were analyzed and contrasted with the British and German approaches. The United States entered the war in April 1917. Colonel Joseph Siler, MD, a career medical officer, was the director, and Colonel Louis B. Wilson, MD, head of pathology at the Mayo Clinic, was appointed assistant director of the US Army Medical Corps Division of Laboratories and Infectious Disease, based in Dijon, France. During the next year, they organized 300 efficient laboratories to support the American Expeditionary Forces. Autopsies were performed to better understand treatment of battlefield injuries, effects of chemical warfare agents, and the influenza pandemic; autopsies also generated teaching specimens for the US Army Medical Museum. Bacteriology services focused on communicable diseases. Laboratory testing for social diseases was very aggressive. Significant advances in blood transfusion techniques, which allowed brief blood storage, occurred during the war but were not primarily overseen by laboratory services. Both Siler and Wilson received Distinguished Service Medals. Wilson's vision for military pathology services helped transform American civilian laboratory services in the 1920s.

Dr. Vilensky raises important concerns regarding the threats posed by lewisite and other weapons of mass destruction. As he describes, non-proliferation programs are a vital component in the War on Terror. -- Richard G. Lugar, United States Senator Joel Vilensky's book is a detailed and immensely useful account of the development and history of one of the major chemical weapons... We will always know how to make lewisite, the 'Dew of Death,' but that does not mean that we should, or be compelled to accept such weapons in our lives. -- from the Foreword by Richard Butler, former head of UN Special Commission to Disarm Iraq In 1919, when the Great War was over, the New York Times reported on a new chemical weapon with the fragrance of geranium blossoms, a poison gas that was the climax of this country's achievements in the lethal arts. The name of this substance was lewisite and this is its story -- the story of an American weapon of mass destruction. Discovered by accident by a graduate student and priest in a chemistry laboratory at the Catholic University of America in Washington, D.C., lewisite was developed into a weapon by Winford Lewis, who became its namesake, working with a team led by James Conant, later president of Harvard and head of government oversight for the U.S.'s atomic bomb program, the Manhattan Project. After a powerful German counterattack in the spring of 1918, the government began frantic production of lewisite in hopes of delivering 3,000 tons of the stuff to be ready for use in Europe the following year. The end of war came just as the first shipment was being prepared. It was dumped into the sea, but not forgotten. Joel A. Vilensky tells the intriguing story of the discovery and development of lewisite and its curious history. During World War II, the United States produced more than 20,000 tons of lewisite, testing it on soldiers and secretly dropping it from airplanes. In the end, the substance was abandoned as a weapon because it was too unstable under most combat conditions. But a weapon once discovered never disappears. It was used by Japan in Manchuria and by Iraq in its war with Iran. The Soviet Union was once a major manufacturer. Strangely enough, although it was developed for lethal purposes, lewisite led to an effective treatment for a rare neurological disease.