After World War One, new institutions and gadgets gave reality to a changing landscape of public culture. Therefore, in this chapter, we explore applied science in the inter-war public realm. Society’s usage interacted with officials’ language as public and bureaucratic discussions of applied science intertwined. Talk about applied science connected intimately with an intense discussion of ‘modern civilisation’ to make sense of science too. Amidst anxiety, the separation of pure and applied became important to science’s standing. To some, the process by which scientific research led to a multitude of new gadgets was frighteningly dangerous. To others, science was exploited too slowly due to the historical inadequacy of British industry. Both branch of government and a cathedral of applied science, the Science Museum displayed linkages between science and technical wonders. Debates were conducted over the new radio service and in newspapers, and were contested by bishops as well as politicians.

This chapter takes up a half-forgotten novel fragment of 1941-2 by André Malraux based on first-hand accounts from the 1914 War, as well as two, neglected photographs of targeted civilian casualties of poison gas made in a Macedonian town in 1917 by the German Jewish criminologist R. A. Reiss. It moves beyond conventional archives to uncover complex histories, interweaving cultural artifacts with archival material to represent at two distinct moments the experimental poison gas war on the eastern front. Prussic acid -- by 1917, the base for an early form of Zyklon – provides the constant in these episodes. Eastern Europe, an area historically associated with colonialism and post-colonialism, furnished the choice terrain in 1915-17 of poison gas warfare, and so, premonitions of a Nazi continental imperialism which relied on gas, a weapon designed for colonial use, to enforce racial hierarchies. These cultural artifacts –Malraux’s Bolimów/Bolgako and Reiss’s Monástir -- map the head of the “Zyklon trail,” in Lemkin’s phrase. The experimental poison gas war on the eastern front substitutes premonitory vistas for the classic, western battlescapes of Wilfred Owen’s poetry by redrawing the templates and boundaries of the developmental logic of Nazi “scientific violence” amidst occupation, subjugation, and ethnic/racial warfare.