Smithsonian_03_2020

March 2020 | SMITHSONIAN 41

MA

TT

HE

W^

TW

OM

BL

Y;^

SO

UR

CE

:^ M

IC

HA

EL
C

RIS

AF

UL

LI

breathing rate and the heart rate and expands all the blood

vessels, trying desperately to increase the amount of blood

being pumped past the lungs so they can process and elim-

inate the deadly gas. In the end stages of carbon dioxide ex-

posure, the acid in the veins begins to chemically break down

the myriad enzymes and proteins that control bodily func-

tions on a cellular level.

To do the math on the breathing gases, I would need the

boat’s interior volume, and to get that I would have to resort

to some scientifi c sleuthwork. Over the course of a month, I

downloaded every photo and diagram I could fi nd of the Hun-

ley and measured them meticulously to fi nd all the sub’s rel-

evant dimensions. After I used this information to create a

three-dimensional model, my computer could tell me the size.

Based on the interior volume of the boat, I calculated

how long it would take for painful levels of CO 2 to build up,

and determined the crew’s precise oxygen supply. The crew

would have had a 30- to 60-minute window of warning—de-

pending on their levels of physical exertion—between the

time the air fi rst reached a noticeable 5 percent CO 2 and

when it reached the low-oxygen level of 6.3 percent at which

they might pass out. Carbon di-

oxide causes pain; the headache

is sharp and profound, and the

ragged panting feels like the body

is struggling to catch up after a

panicky sprint. It was implausible

that the crew would have stayed

peaceful and quiet for this length

of time during such symptoms.

I had surpassed the threshold of

reasonable scientifi c evidence, and

therefore, for me, the theories of

suff ocation and asphyxiation were

eliminated. Once I ruled out those

theories, I turned back to examin-

ing my primary suspect: the blast.

THE AUTHOR KURT VONNEGUT once spoke in an interview

about his time in the military in Germany during World War

II, right after the fi rebombings that devastated Dresden. His

job had been to excavate the bomb shelters and basements

to remove the rotting corpses before the entire city started to

stink of human putrefaction. The people he found had usu-

ally died without moving, without any signs of struggle, and

were often still seated in their chairs. They were not outwardly

wounded; they were not blown wildly across the room.

There are multiple ways for victims to die in a fi rebombing,

and Vonnegut’s cases cannot be retroactively declared to have

all occurred solely because of one single cause. However, they

share the same key descriptors as the Hunley’s: undisturbed,

no external injuries, dead where they sat or stood. To a blast

researcher, this scenario sets off all the mental alarms. It starts

our heads screaming that we should at least suspect what is

called by our fi eld a “primary blast injury.”

Medically speaking, the injuries from an explosion are neatly

divided into one of four categories. A blast victim can receive

only one type of injury, or they can receive a grab bag of trauma

containing any mixture of the four. The injury types are num-

DISTANCE

FROM^ EXPLOSION

10 f

t

5 fe

et

20

ft

15

ft

30

ft

Hinged spar Torpedo

Trigger rope

Front hatch Captain Cross section

Bow

Snorkel

A PRIMARY

BLAST INJURY IS A

STRANGE AND

HORRIFYING FLUKE.