Albuquerque Journal January 25, 2003
Glory to the Gas Mask: Troops Learn To Love the Uncomfortable Lifesaving Equipment
By Miguel Navrot
KIRTLAND AIR FORCE BASE Hot. Restrictive. A claustrophobe's nightmare. And that's just the head gear.
In both peacetime and war, the U.S. military regularly drills hundreds of thousands of service members on getting into and wearing the gas mask. The testing involves having each service member correctly strap on the mask within seconds, creating an airtight seal against the face. It is a normal preparation for chemical and biological warfare, taught alongside first aid and service weapon proficiency.
Wearing one is neither pleasant nor comfortable, but that isn't the point. Combined with gloves, galoshes and an additional layer of clothing worn over fatigues, the gas mask may be a lifesaver for troops facing chemical weapon attack.
"It's not fun, but you have to go through with it," Air Force Staff Sgt. Markus Maier said of the suit.
While comfort is secondary to staying alive, it is a concern. Donning this modern armor inhibits movement for those inside. Wearing it for hours can leave troops drenched in their own sweat.
Those temperatures become dangerously hot when combined with the Middle East's stifling summer heat.
"Anyone wearing (this) is basically looking at being slowly roasted as time goes by," said Francois Boo, an associate research analyst of the Washington think tank Globalsecurity.org.
At Kirtland Air Force Base, contractors conduct classes for airmen on the masks and suits, teaching about the threats service members face when deployed. The training is also intended to instill faith that the gas mask will work when needed.
The Air Force's modern mask is strapped onto the face with three adjustable straps in the back. Attached to the mask is a rubber hood with a draw string that closes around the service member's neck.
Inside one, vision is distorted slightly by the plastic eye shield's curvature. Breathing is a respiratory tug-of-war, pulling and pushing air through the cylindrical filter.
While not designed for those who prefer their spaces open and wide, the mask does its job.
Lessons at Kirtland involve walking masked airmen inside an old munition bunker brimming with riot-control gas. Inside the chamber for a few minutes, airmen take off the masks, standing exposed.
The burn is stronger than any sort of bottled hot sauce, Chinese mustard or wasabi on the grocery shelf. Airmen react with closed eyelids and oozing mucus. When the unfiltered gas becomes unbearable, they are free to leave.
Outside, wind cleanses gas within minutes from tearing eyes and running noses.
The military often says it trains as it fights. If chemical warfare training is any indication, hot-weather work will be done in spurts.
Maier, who works in Kirtland's Public Affairs Office, was once trained one summer years ago in Saudi Arabia. There, crews wearing the full-body suit spent two hours working and one off, trying to recuperate.
Staff Sgt. Patricia Castro, who works in Kirtland's protocol office, said doing administrative duties in mask, suit and gloves is much slower. Typing in the heavy gloves, for example, usually requires using anything available to peck the keyboard keys.
"The back of a pencil usually works," Castro said.
GRAPHIC:
PHOTO BY: 1ST LT. KELLEY JETER KIRTLAND AIR FORCE BASE
PHOTO: b/w
IT BURNS: An Air Force officer, reeling from riot control glass, exits a Kirtland gas chamber during recent gas mask training.
PHOTO BY: RICHARD PIPES/JOURNAL
PHOTO: Color
FULL GEAR: Journal staff writer Miguel Navrot smiles underneath an Air Force gas mask minutes before heading into a Kirtland Air Force Base munitions igloo brimming with riot gas.
Copyright © 2003 Albuquerque Journal
