Ellis Dee – I’d guess that the Times article you cite was referring to poison gas, as well as strategic aerial bombing. The 1936 movie version of H.G. Wells’ novel The Shape of Things to Come gives a pretty good picture of what people expected the next war to look like, with both the aforementioned weapons figuring prominently.
It’s also something of a misconception, as it was in the case of the neutron bomb, that the purpose of chemical and biological weapons is to kill enemies while leaving material assets intact. Chemical and biological weapons are means of killing large numbers of the enemy with disproportionately small effort, particularly when that enemy is heavily fortified against conventional weapons. The disadvantage of both is that they are unwieldy and difficult to control. The application of both is subject to the whims of wind and weather, and both carry “friendly fire” hazards well in excess of conventional weapons. Biologicals have the further disadvantages of being slow to act, and uncertain in effect. As such, biologicals are almost always considered strategic, rather than tactical, weapons. Gas wasn’t used in World War I because either side particularly wanted to seize trenches and lifeless no-man’s land “intact”. Rather, gas had the potential to sink into dugouts and heavy fortifications that would have been resistant to heavy bombardment.
ralph124c – Building on the above in answer to your revised question, I think a large part of the reason chemical weapons weren’t used in World War II is that they were recognized to not be worth the effort. Against prepared defenders, gas doesn’t really do much more harm than heavy artillery bombardment would. The only time gas really could have won a battle in World War I was when it was first used by the Germans at Ypres, but German cautiousness in employing a touchy weapon with such ghastly effects kept them from gaining much anyway.
Against a prepared defense, gas ends up being counterproductive, in that it requires one’s own attacking forces to don protective gear, thus slowing the pace of their advance. That might make it sound like it has value on the defense, but on the modern battlefield, mobility is important on the defense too. Moreover, an attacker at least has the advantage of choosing the time and place of his attack, and can bend such things to accommodate the use of gas, while a defender has no such luxury.
I doubt, then, that gas would have made Stalingrad a “piece of cake”. The Russians carried gas masks too, and both sides were in such close proximity that gas would have made the job of the attacking Germans as difficult as that of the defenders. In fact, the Russians made a point of trying to infiltrate and entangle themselves with the Germans to complicate the Germans’ employment of artillery. It would only have been worse with gas.
In a true surprise attack, or against an enemy with no defensive or retaliatory capability to speak of, chemical weapons can indeed be devastating, which is why the Italians used it in Ethiopia, and the Japanese against the Chinese. And Saddam against the Kurds, for that matter. In a “self-immolation” scenario, like an invasion of Japan, a defender might choose to use gas just to maximize the attacker’s casualties without regard to its own, but history has not yet seen such circumstances happen. Alternatively, the attacker might encounter controlled circumstances, such as caves filled with ill-equipped but fanatical defenders, where the benefits of gas would stand out. Public opinion might weigh against this today, but might not have in an alternative 1946.
Hitler’s personal aversion may have counted for something, but I’d be hesitant to attribute any action to an altruistic spirit on his part. I think that his experience mainly helped drive home the idea that gas just “wasn’t worth it” as a weapon.
The doctrine of Mutual Assured Destruction is indeed a manifestation of this dynamic, though at an intensified level. It might be better described in the case of chemical weapons as Mutually Assured Inconvenience and Suffering.