When the Going Gets Tough, They Stick It Out : Marine Volunteers Test Limits of Fatigue, Drug

They looked otherworldly, like bit characters from some late-night science fiction thriller.

They wore eerie-looking masks and sucked air through charcoal filters as they staggered repeatedly around a gravel track with backpacks full of lead weights, the long miles leaving blisters on their feet.

In all, they would stay awake for more than 40 hours straight, much of the time injected with a drug that rendered them even more groggy and irritable.

When they weren’t walking, they memorized Marine training manuals or reeled from computer response-time tests. A shrill alarm sounded the moment they dozed off.

Life-Saving Test

Sound like a waking nightmare? For 2 dozen Marines volunteering for a chemical defense study at Camp Pendleton, the experience was a little bit of heaven.

It was a chance to go where no Marine had gone before, to show their mettle by completing a physical and emotional obstacle course dreamed up by the scientists who stood by with clipboards and raised eyebrows.

“No other Marine has ever done this,” said Lance Cpl. Carl Toomer of Ft. Worth, Tex., during a moment of relaxation inside a Marine tent.

“That’s one of the reasons I volunteered, to be first at something. I may never get the chance again.”

This summer, 96 gung-ho Marines are participating in a military study to determine the effects of atropine, an antidote that just might save their lives during a chemical war. The military wants to discover whether the drug , which causes such side effects as drowsiness, quickened heart rate and a reduced ability to sweat, inhibits a soldier’s performance when combined with the stress of battle.

“Once a soldier has been exposed to a chemical agent and then uses atropine as an antidote, we want to see if he’s still fit for combat, to fly a plane or man a ship,” said Dr. Carl Englund, a research psychologist at the Naval Health Research Center, known for its sleep deprivation studies during the 1950s.

“We want to find out when they’ll start making mistakes, how many times they can walk around a track or take a computer quiz without giving up.

“Here, they might just be failing a test. But in battle, they might be shooting fellow soldiers or mis-setting critical dials.”

Before they walked their first mile, Camp Pendleton Marine volunteers signed consent forms that include their option to drop out at any time.

The procedures demonstrate the military’s progress since the days when the Army tested mind-altering drugs such as LSD on unknowing volunteers, including mental patients, in secret experiments during the 1950s, according to congressional hearings.

More Tests Than Ever

A military panel that reviews testing methods, called the Committee for Protection of Human Subjects--made up of scientists, a physician, chaplain and an attorney--held up the start of the Pendleton study for nine months as it reviewed the tests involved.

These days, the military is conducting more tests than ever involving human subjects, according to Capt. Robert D. Chaney, commanding officer of the Naval Health Research Center on Point Loma, who oversaw Camp Pendleton’s chemical defense study.

Some of the research involves coping with adverse climates, including testing ice vests as heat protectors on Navy ships in the Persian Gulf and developing ways to better deal with Arctic temperatures.

Scientists are also exploring the types of diseases that military men can contract while wandering in jungle environments in Africa and the South Pacific, as well as looking at the attention spans of soldiers manning tedious but critical jobs such as sonar operators and air traffic controllers.

The Camp Pendleton tests, which have taken five years and $1.6 million to complete and will be finished early next month, are part of a government study on chemical defense readiness that has involved all branches of the military, Chaney said.

“The people who gave those patients LSD without telling them deserved to be crucified,” he said. “But you can be sure that none of that’s happening today.

“The boys who volunteered for this study were briefed in plain English about the pros and cons of what was going to happen to them. Nobody came in here blind.”

On a recent Monday afternoon, a bus containing some of the 96 volunteers arrived at Camp Pendleton after a day of tests in a Navy lab on Point Loma.

“The study simulates a reconnaissance mission, with volunteers doing computer tests acting as mission command, and the ones on the track playing the part of soldiers in the field,” Englund said.

To simulate battle fatigue, the Marines stayed awake for almost two days. Near the end of the test, they would don the

chemical defense suits known as MOPP (mission-oriented protective posture) gear.

In place of atropine, scientists injected some Marines with Benadryl, a commonly prescribed antihistamine that has many of the same side effects.

“Not all the Marines got the drug; some got placebos,” Englund said. “And not all of them were required to wear the MOPP gear. Some just worked on the computer test part of the study. Others walked on the track but didn’t wear the extra gear.”

Only the “lucky” ones got the entire treatment.

“The ones who didn’t get to wear the suits and hit the track acted like they were left out,” Englund said. “These guys are all pretty young, so I guess it was a macho thing. But they were really disappointed, like they weren’t given a chance to show us what they could really do.”

Under a hot sun, some Marines circled the track carrying backpacks filled with lead weights equaling half their weight. Sensors to record their body temperatures were attached to their heads and chests. Probes jutted from their bodies. Gauges to track their heart rates were fastened to their arms.

After four trips around the track, the Marines paused to take a battery of exams. They either studied the camouflage-colored Marine basic information manual or tried their hand at several computer response-time tests.

All the while, they answered written questions to gauge how they were feeling, how hard they were working.

“Am I feeling cynical?” was one of the questions asked. “Do I have thoughts of killing myself?” “Am I losing interest in other people?”

The next hour, they repeated the ritual.

‘Pretty Tough Cookies’

“Before this thing started, every one of us had an idea that Marines were some pretty tough cookies, but seeing this in person makes you appreciate just how tough these guys really are,” said Jay Heaney, an NHRC research physiologist, as he watched the Marines round the track.

“By the time our last group finished, all of them had these horrible blisters on their feet from the walk. They were staggering, waddling--anything to get around that track. One of the physicians told one of the guys that if it were him, he’d drop out of the study.

“But the guy just kept going. I guess their philosophy is that if they were stranded out in some battlefield, blisters or no blisters, they’d have to walk back in.”

During a break, one winded Marine described the best way to beat mental fatigue.

“You don’t think about nothin’ when you’re out there,” he said. “Because if you think too much, it starts to hurt. And so you just walk.”

Some Marines involved in the study scoffed at the idea of showing their machismo with hours of brute labor.

“I’d rather be the brains than the brawn any day,” observed 23-year-old Cpl. Ramon Luna, a volunteer who sat in front of a computer. “I’m a grunt. So I’ve done all that before. This time, I’ll let some other fool do it for me.”

By Wednesday, those Marines fortunate enough to be selected for the most grueling tests were ready to don the MOPP gear. They would wear the suits during the final 12 hours of the test, just when their weariness had begun to take its ugliest toll.

“Being inside those suits is a nightmare, let me tell you. I’ve been there,” said Tony Sucec, an NHRC research physiologist and director of San Diego State University’s exercise physiology lab.

“They were made to keep chemicals out, so they keep things inside, too. You sweat to death. When you get thirsty, you have to suck water from a tube attached to a bag you carry.

“The suit is a heavy parka thing with a mask and rain suit. You breathe through a charcoal filter. Your vision is restricted. You look like an inflated frogman. And with the plastic boots and gloves you wear, just try scratching an itch.”

Along with Sucec, several other university scientists assisted with the study, trading their expertise for hard data they can use in their own research.

Testing Limits of Fatigue

“We’re testing the limits of fatigue with these Marines, but there are sports applications to the tests as well,” said Ron Bulbulian, director of sports physiology at the University of Kentucky.

“This is the era of the ultra-marathon. Athletes are pushing themselves to new levels. And Benadryl is used frequently by athletes and all kinds of people for hay fever, so we can look at the results of that.”

By 8 p.m. Wednesday, the torture had finally stopped. The next morning, after a few more tests, the Marines would be free to leave.

But not before some Marines admitted having some regrets about volunteering a week for the study.

“They asked for volunteers three months ago, and I stuck my hand in the air like some blamed fool,” said one. “I’m crazy. I mean, I got a girlfriend waiting at home a half-mile away, and I’m out here sweating bullets on this track. Why would anyone come out here and do this?”

Added another, after what seemed like his millionth trip around the oval:

“If you ever see me raise my hand again, cut my arm off.”