Trinitrophenetole appeared during a time when chemists moved beyond curiosity, shaping materials that could change the world and sometimes threaten it. Known to many as 2,4,6-trinitrophenetole, the substance found itself among a new generation of nitrated aromatics. In the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, research into nitration blossomed as industry demanded explosives with greater power and stability. Chemists in European and American labs toyed with various substituted nitrobenzenes, hunting for compounds packing energy yet offering a margin for safer handling. Trinitrophenetole did not experience the widespread adoption its famous chemical cousins did—TNT, for instance, quickly overshadowed it. Still, it forced researchers to reckon with subtle structural shifts and their consequences. In my own studies, reading about early war-era chemists painstakingly hand-mixing nitric and sulfuric acid, weighing risks with steel nerves, I came to appreciate the grit required to turn theoretical chemistry into real tools or threats. Trinitrophenetole remains a historical marker for how small changes in molecular makeup lead to diverse outcomes.
Anyone who has spent time in the lab with nitroaromatic compounds knows that not all high-nitrogen substances behave in the same way. Trinitrophenetole is a classic example of this. Its molecular structure—basically an anisole ring decorated with three nitro groups—gives it strong electron-withdrawing character while also imparting some stability due to the presence of the ethoxy group. If you compare it directly to TNT or picric acid, the practical differences become clear: different melting points, shock sensitivities, solubilities, and energy releases on explosion. Most organic chemists, me included, got introduced to this family through textbooks or basic laboratory synthesis experiments, only to realize that the details behind each molecule’s behavior could be the difference between groundbreaking new materials and pure laboratory accident.
The compound appears as a yellow crystalline solid at room temperature, with a certain bitterness to its odor, and—once someone gets a feel for it via gloves and proper safety goggles—a consistency that hints at something both organic and volatile. It is denser than water, slow to dissolve in cold solvents, yet more amenable in hot alcohol or benzene. Sensible chemists track its melting point in the lab, since that number provides hints about purity and stability. Trinitrophenetole rarely gets top billing in explosive applications, precisely because its balance of brisance and safety never found the sweet spot: it’s less sensitive than some perchlorates, but still not something one mixes lightly. Its chemical backbone stands up to most bases, but strong acids or reducing environments will break it down, often violently. Anyone accustomed to handling picrates or nitrobenzenes will see kinship in these natural warning signs—yellow color, biting smell, and the strict instructions on keeping it in cool storage.
Those who have handled trinitrophenetole behind the bench know it is regulated for good reason. Globally accepted labeling codes mark it as hazardous, and hazard pictograms broadcast its toxicity and risk of use. Labels on any legitimate sample scream for personal protection, dust control, and explosive caution, not because regulations enjoy being overbearing, but because the line between experiment and calamity runs thin here. Shipping and storage specs mandate cool, dry, and shock-free environments; repeated tales of mishaps drilled this into chemists' minds long before modern GHS standards codified it. Having myself inspected old sample jars with faded skull-marked stickers, it becomes obvious that a few numbers and acronyms on the label capture the sweat and focus needed for safe work.
Nitration chemistry remains a craft requiring both patience and respect. To prepare trinitrophenetole, the basic principle reflects many nitroaromatic syntheses: mix phenetole with nitric acid under controlled coldness, protect the reaction against water, heat, and stray spark, then carefully neutralize and purify the yield. Chemists understand the subtle difference a single drop in temperature or a few minutes too long in reaction time can make. More than once, working with similar reactions on other molecules, I watched as clean crystals turned gummy or fizzed with unexpected heat—detail matters. The clean-up and separation steps are far from trivial, since separation sometimes means filtering detonatable intermediates or neutralizing acidic residues in glassware. Those with technician training in explosives labs carry tales of near misses, static discharge, and the eternal vigilance nitrations demand.
Tweaking trinitrophenetole through chemical routes sits at the core of much foundational organic chemistry. It undergoes further reduction, halogenation, or alkylation under the right set of lab conditions. Reduction can strip nitro groups for new derivatives, though each pathway has risks. I remember a mentor describing how a misjudged reduction experiment once filled a hood with noxious smoke—these molecules command respect. Modifications also enable attachment of new side groups for specialty dyes or research on reactivity patterns. Rarely these days does trinitrophenetole feature in commercial syntheses, but those that use it as a test substrate to probe electron transfer or aromatic substitution find it a reliable standard.
Even for seasoned chemists, chemical naming brings consternation. Trinitrophenetole appears in journals as 2,4,6-trinitrophenetole, sometimes called trinitroanisole or simply TNP. It pays to know these names, since hunting for information without them turns literature reviews into wild goose chases. Navigating databases in graduate school, I found that synonyms lead to patent filings, forgotten army technical documents, or Russian monographs. A quick glance at bottles in academic stockrooms reveals just how wide the naming net gets thrown, but the stories embedded in those faded labels often trace a field’s progress and setbacks.
Standards for handling trinitrophenetole emerge from the mistakes, successes, and collective memory of the chemical community. Fumes inflict headaches and nausea, and solid dust can be absorbed through skin and lungs. Full PPE—goggles, gloves, lab coat, and working fume hoods—are not negotiable, especially for compounds known for unpredictable exothermic reactions. Institutions with capacity to use trinitrophenetole embed strict SOPs, provide recurring training, and keep incident logs where every close call or spill becomes a lesson for the next chemist. I have written and revised these protocols and learned that complacency grows fastest as familiarity increases. Labs measure and track usage closely, aware of theft or accidental ignition risks. Disposal always falls under hazardous waste, never downthe-drain, and environmental controls now trace even nanogram releases. No corner can be cut; bruised knuckles and acid-scorched shelves keep the memory fresh.
Trinitrophenetole never enjoyed the breakout success of other explosives and dyes, but it carved a small niche in research and specialized applications. Early on, the hope lingered that it could provide an alternative to picric acid in munitions, but persistence in the military arsenal never quite materialized—the practicalities of production and storage kept it on the margins. Today, reference textbooks list it as a tool for exploring electron dynamics in aromatic compounds or as a minor ingredient in chemical analysis techniques. Its role as a test molecule for reaction mechanisms outstrips its use in commerce. Researchers hunting for new materials sometimes revisit known compounds like trinitrophenetole, searching for structures or insights skipped over by commercial chemists decades before.
The pace of R&D into trinitrophenetole never matched that of high-demand industrial chemicals, but ongoing curiosity always brought new eyes to bear. Academics continually probe the electronics, hoping for insights into aromatic substitution or new materials for electronics or energy storage. A few exploratory projects studied its potential in colorimetric detectors or as a model substrate for computational chemistry validations. From my own time spent leafing through the footnotes of chemical journals, I learned that many practical advances come from someone looking twice at small, overlooked molecules. Private-sector innovation dried up after safety and cost concerns won the day, but university groups and defense agencies continue to ask what can be learned from “old” nitroaromatics.
Few areas draw more scrutiny than toxicity when a substance hovers between research curiosity and practical use. Animal studies and human case reports detailed the risks of inhalation, skin contact, and ingestion—liver and kidney damage, nervous system effects, and rapid-onset toxicity underscore the need for robust ventilation and no-nonsense PPE. Present-day regulatory frameworks treat trinitrophenetole as high-risk, subject to storage and exposure restrictions, and disposal gets tracked with paperwork and audits. Looking at the longer toxicity studies, the broader message emerges: the closer a molecule comes to being a potent explosive, the more it threatens health and safety, especially outside controlled environments. Local environmental impacts—soil and groundwater contamination—mirror what’s seen with TNT and picric acid, prompting modern labs to push for cleaner syntheses and rigorous waste controls.
The story of trinitrophenetole keeps unfolding, shaped by the push for greener chemistry and the rediscovery of “obsolete” molecules as tools for basic research. Meanwhile, changing climate and regulatory landscapes push scientists to reevaluate legacy compounds for clues about environmental persistence, alternative synthesis routes, or new roles in materials science. Digital chemistry and AI-driven retrosynthesis models often flag classic nitroaromatics like trinitrophenetole as jumping-off points for new innovation. A few research teams now focus on breaking down legacy explosive residues, understanding long-term soil or water impacts, or using these structures as benchmarks for computational predictions. Regardless of whether trinitrophenetole finds a spot in industry, its lessons continue: radical chemistry belongs as much to the past as to the frontier, and old molecules still hold surprises for those who look close enough.
Trinitrophenetole usually turns up in conversations about explosives or military-grade chemicals, not something you encounter in school science kits or everyday life. I remember hearing about it during a college seminar on energetic materials. The tone in the room shifted: this isn’t a subject taught lightly, because this compound draws a clear line between lab curiosity and real-world force.
You probably won’t find trinitrophenetole in the same box as household pyrotechnics or road flares. The real action starts in research and defense labs, where chemists look for new explosives or try to refine what’s already out there. Trinitrophenetole serves a couple of main purposes: as an ingredient in detonators and as a booster in more powerful blends. In my own experience digging through safety reports and field manuals, this compound pops up as a way to trigger bigger reactions in tightly controlled environments.
Manufacturers sometimes blend it with other chemicals to make mixtures that don’t go off too easily, but will still pack the needed punch. Stability and sensitivity matter, especially in tough environments where every variable counts. Reports from munitions factories and military expert panels say this substance can help set off more stable—yet highly destructive—main charges. The aim is to deliver a reliable spark without the risk factors that come with older, more volatile formulas.
Anyone tempted to treat trinitrophenetole like a hobby chemical should think again. You won’t find it at hardware stores, and shipping restrictions keep it in the hands of vetted professionals. Security rules stay tight for a reason. Just like others in its class, this compound can do real damage if mishandled. The risks aren’t hypothetical—incidents in poorly supervised warehouses or factories have shown the destructive potential of mishaps involving materials like this one.
While some countries allow its controlled use in civilian blasting—a practice I learned about through interviews with mining engineers—most deploy trinitrophenetole in more strictly controlled government settings. The handful of experts who actually work with it get specific training, and their labs load up on containment, personal protective gear, and emergency protocols. Mistakes remain rare, but never impossible.
The downside of trinitrophenetole centers on both its safety profile and impact on health and environment. Over time, I’ve seen agencies warn about the health risks of handling materials in this family. The compound poses toxic hazards if inhaled, ingested, or even with skin contact, and any chemical that can shift from safe to catastrophic in seconds sparks a wave of caution—especially with storage and disposal.
As the world looks for less hazardous options, focus has shifted to greener, more stable explosive materials. Governments push for alternatives that deliver on performance without the same safety tradeoffs. Some progress shows up in the form of newer compounds and better handling protocols. Labs worldwide keep sharing insights, hoping to lower the danger for those who need powerful chemical tools without putting lives on the line.
Trinitrophenetole isn’t something people run into every day. Most folks hear the name and think “danger.” There’s good reason for that. It’s a compound with a history—used in explosives, researched in labs, and talked about among chemists for its powerful punch. I remember walking into the lab as a grad student and feeling that mix of curiosity and straight-out respect for anything labelled “trini-” anything. This stuff deserves careful handling, plain and simple.
The real risk lies in its sensitivity. Trinitrophenetole reacts strongly, sometimes unpredictably, to heat, friction, and shock. Years ago, a colleague accidentally dropped a test tube. It didn’t shatter, but the tension in the room shot through the ceiling. Any sudden force can turn routine work into a disaster, so I learned early: slow your steps, keep your focus, treat every motion around it like the stakes are high.
Lab coat, goggles, gloves—every time. I’ve seen some team members get lazy, skipping gloves “just for a second.” That’s a mistake with Trinitrophenetole. Direct skin contact carries health hazards; people can absorb toxic chemicals, leading to headaches and long-term problems. One careless moment can mean a trip to the medical center. Stick to thick, chemical-resistant gloves and goggles that really cover, not those cheap plastic varieties.
Fumes from nitro compounds build up fast. I learned the hard way not to trust “natural airflow.” Always run a proper chemical fume hood and keep the area uncluttered. Poor ventilation leaves everybody in the room exposed to toxic vapors. It’s worth taking five extra minutes to check exhaust systems. Some compounds, including Trinitrophenetole, irritate lungs and leave behind a metallic taste in your mouth for hours—nobody wants that.
A professor once compared storing chemicals to organizing a refrigerator: “Don’t put the milk next to the raw chicken.” He wasn’t joking. Trinitrophenetole needs isolation from flammable and reactive chemicals. Use containers built for explosive materials, label everything clearly, and double-check inventory on a regular schedule. One mistake in storage can trigger a chain of events you can’t reverse.
It’s not enough to just “know the plan.” We ran spill drills for good reason. Quick response gear—spill kits, neutralizers, absorbents—always sits within arm’s reach. Trinitrophenetole doesn’t leave much room for improvisation, so rehearsing procedures prepares everyone for real emergencies. Never sweep up shards or powder by hand. Use proper tools, and alert everyone before touching anything.
I saw firsthand how routine updates in lab protocols saved mistakes. Regulations change, and so does equipment. Take training seriously, encourage honest questions, and share near-miss stories. Culture around chemical safety isn’t just paperwork. It’s built out of experience and hard lessons, both yours and your coworkers'.
Minimize exposure at every turn. Don’t work alone with Trinitrophenetole. Reduce quantities to the smallest needed amount. Pay for the best safety equipment. Upgrade storage containers before they age out. Above all, listen when someone says, “this doesn’t feel safe.” That gut check speaks louder than any checklist. Proper respect, preparation, and culture make explosive accidents a lot less likely.
Trinitrophenetole doesn’t show up in chit-chat down at the local coffee shop. Its presence sticks to labs, safety protocols, and chemical conversations reserved for those who handle energetic compounds. The formula for Trinitrophenetole is C8H7N3O7. Just a collection of carbon, hydrogen, nitrogen, and oxygen, sure. But this combination forms a molecule with real-world impact in both research and manufacturing.
Chemical formulas aren’t just for tests in school; they serve as the math that keeps us safe and smart during experiments and production. This collection of atoms spells out reactivity, hazards, and even usefulness in commercial applications. I’ve seen chemists glance at a formula and immediately picture the risks and possibilities. For Trinitrophenetole, understanding its structure keeps both scientists and wider communities safer. Accidents avoid people who show respect for formulas, not just the names.
Behind the name, Trinitrophenetole is an ether, a cousin to the more notorious explosives. Structurally, it is the methyl ether of trinitrophenol (picric acid), which means it's related to a compound once used in old artillery shells. That association earns it a spot on hazardous material lists in chemical catalogs. Folks who handle it pay attention, as those three nitro groups (NO2) can bring volatility to the party, especially if not stored or mixed carefully. Safety glasses and gloves aren’t optional. Regulations follow these molecules because history taught hard lessons about what can go wrong without proper respect.
Each atom in that formula tells a story. Nitrogen (N) and oxygen (O) packed into a single molecule offer up a classic recipe for instability. Not every compound is destined for doom—but more nitro groups increase the likelihood of rapid energy release. Trinitrophenetole demonstrates why lab procedures and smart handling make all the difference. A researcher with a shaky grasp on basic chemistry could put lives at risk by misjudging storage temperature, or by mixing incompatible substances. That’s not just science; that’s experience speaking. I’ve seen ordinary chemicals become hazardous by simple mishandling. Following the formula teaches more than just what’s in the bottle—it maps out the path to staying safe.
Better chemical management starts with education. Labs need to go beyond labels by training everyone on why molecules like Trinitrophenetole pose unique threats. Real case studies leave a stronger impression than another round of paperwork. Digital inventory systems flag high-risk chemicals, blinking on computer screens as a daily reminder for caution. Storage protocols, linked to formulas like C8H7N3O7, do the heavy lifting in preventing accidents.
Setting up clear guidelines for storage, use, and disposal builds good habits. I still remember a training session where we learned to recognize the warning signs of crystal formation—a tip that ties directly to chemical structure. Clear communication between teams makes sure no one works in isolation. An everyday respect for chemistry bridges the gap between theory and safe, productive workspaces.
Understanding something as simple as C8H7N3O7 opens the door to safer practices, smarter science, and less risk. People who grasp the science behind the formula stand a better chance of making informed, responsible choices in the real world. That awareness, built on facts and experience, keeps the laboratory—and the world beyond—running just a bit smoother.
Trinitrophenetole comes with a bright orange hue, but behind that color is a strong warning. It's a nitroaromatic compound, used mainly in explosives research and specialty chemistry. Once in the wrong setting, it doesn't take much—a little heat, friction, or a careless spark—to trigger a dangerous reaction. My experience in university labs taught me that proximity to other reactive chemicals could create opportunities for disaster. Taking shortcuts on storage can turn an otherwise manageable risk into an accident story everyone relives for years.
Any shelf or cabinet holds risk when storing explosives. In practice, a locked, dedicated, well-ventilated storage cabinet rated for explosives offers the best safety. I remember a fire marshal questioning a colleague’s storage setup. The inspection ended with a warning: only use purpose-built storage, away from the day-to-day mess. Trying to cut corners on designated lockers almost always leads to trouble. If money’s tight, it’s still worth doubling down on certified containers with automatic fire suppression.
Temperature control cannot be ignored. Keeping trinitrophenetole below room temperature slows its decomposition, slashes vapor buildup, and lowers the odds of a pressure increase inside the container. A simple analog thermometer stuck on the cabinet can tell you quickly if things heat up. Moisture, meanwhile, encourages chemical breakdown and corrosion. Silica gel packs or low-humidity desiccants do more work than you’d guess. Never store it near sinks, windows, or places prone to temperature swings—the worst explosions often begin with a sticky, sweating bottle on a humid day.
Mixing trinitrophenetole with other chemicals or flammable materials pushes the odds. Never keep acids, alkalis, or anything else reactive in the same area. Put up a clear label, so anybody—including visiting health and safety officers—knows not to stack cardboard boxes or unknown reagents nearby. My mentor used to tape a bright red “no neighbors” sign to all the explosive bins. It might look awkward, but it saves you from domino disasters.
The old adage “don’t trust the bottle it came in” applies to hazardous chemicals. Glass containers with sealable, non-metallic lids cut down on static electricity and keep vapors in check. Metal lids sometimes corrode, especially if you see even low levels of moisture. Proper labeling matters just as much as the container. You want to know what’s inside within a second—and so does every emergency responder. I’ve seen more than one incident result from mystery containers and faded handwriting.
Local laws around explosives go beyond bureaucratic red tape. Authorities set storage regulations for a reason. Licensing, reporting inventory changes, and strict visitor logs help keep everybody honest. Many disasters happen when people “forget” or try to sneak around these requirements. It pays to call your local hazardous materials office and confirm your compliance. I once saw a permit expire by a week due to missing paperwork—and the lab spent a month shut down while investigators sorted out who stored what.
Preparation matters long before the worst happens. Stock the storage area with appropriate extinguishers, chemical spill kits, and backup lighting. Post simple emergency instructions. Everyone using the lab should review them regularly—no skipping. A dry run or two each year goes a long way. I once helped organize a practice drill; because of it, we avoided chaos during a small but serious incident.
Storing trinitrophenetole safely means combining the right tools with the right habits. Peer training, peer review of storage setups, and bonus incentives for safe practices can keep people vigilant. It’s not the most exciting part of lab life, but it’s a job nobody can afford to ignore.
Trinitrophenetole sounds like an obscure chemical, but turn the letters over and you’ll spot the word “nitro.” This usually points to a substance with energy—more than a whiff of instability—bringing risk both in manufacturing and handling. Labs see it as a specialized compound, popping up where energetic materials or research on explosives takes place. Curious folks outside chemistry circles probably won’t cross its path, but that doesn’t make it harmless.
Experience in chemistry taught me early to respect both the known and the unknown. Trinitrophenetole fits right in with other nitroaromatics like trinitrotoluene (TNT) or picric acid. Many of these substances have earned a reputation for being toxic. Working around them means wearing gloves and goggles, and knowing where your nearest eyewash station sits. Skin might turn yellow from exposure, and inhaling vapors brings headaches or much worse. The data tells the story—nitroaromatics damage blood, the liver, and put stress on kidneys. Studies connect skin contact or dust inhalation with methemoglobinemia, a condition where blood can’t carry oxygen well. This strips the body of its ability to breathe at a cellular level, leaving people dizzy or worse if they ignore safety rules.
Labs keep strict rules for a reason. Years ago, a friend made a mistake around nitro compounds and spent hours with puzzling symptoms—a headache, odd skin color, and later, a sense of breathlessness that sent them to the clinic. Bloodwork pointed to methemoglobinemia. Quick action and oxygen therapy helped, but the situation could’ve gone south if the warning signs got missed or brushed off.
Accidental exposure often springs from bad habits—unlabeled bottles, rushed work, ignoring spills, or broken fume hoods. Health and safety failures spark consequences, and trinitrophenetole isn’t an exception. This isn’t the kind of chemical to store in a warm office or anywhere near food and drink breaks.
On top of its toxicity, trinitrophenetole brings fire and explosion hazards. Energetic nitrate compounds deserve a double layer of caution. I’ve walked through enough labs—seeing fume hoods cluttered or fire extinguishers missing—to know that one moment of carelessness can wreck a day and ruin careers. Folks handling trinitrophenetole keep it isolated, stored cool and dry, and away from sources of sparks. Exposed to fire or heavy impact, it can go from a plain-looking powder to an emergency siren in seconds.
Knowledge and training stand as the best safety net. I’ve watched chemists double-check labels, measure out small amounts, and use protective barriers without complaint. Nothing in a research lab moves faster than word spreading about an accident. That spreads caution better than posters or handouts ever could. Standard choices—protective gloves, lab coats, eye screens, and dedicated exhaust—cut risk dramatically. Clear communication helps, especially when new staff or students join.
Industrial users already work under guidelines from OSHA or similar authorities. Keeping those standards—regular air monitoring, locked cabinets, strict records for use—pins down the risks. If exposure does happen, rapid medical action can save lives. The catch lies in never assuming old protocols are good enough—today’s training means tomorrow’s safety.
Trinitrophenetole doesn’t belong on a shelf at home or a casual workshop table. It sits among chemicals that require real respect—the kind that comes from direct experience with poorly handled risks. In any setting outside a tightly controlled workspace, the dangers outweigh curiosity or convenience. If a bottle shows up unexpectedly, best to call in experts who know how to safely remove and dispose, rather than taking a chance with personal health.
| Names | |
| Preferred IUPAC name | 1-Methoxy-2,4,6-trinitrobenzene |
| Other names |
2,4,6-Trinitrophenetole TNE |
| Pronunciation | /traɪˌnaɪtroʊˈfiːnɪˌtoʊl/ |
| Identifiers | |
| CAS Number | 606-47-7 |
| Beilstein Reference | 136923 |
| ChEBI | CHEBI:75834 |
| ChEMBL | CHEMBL258142 |
| ChemSpider | 21218647 |
| DrugBank | DB13328 |
| ECHA InfoCard | ECHA InfoCard: 100.004.278 |
| EC Number | 208-779-2 |
| Gmelin Reference | 1056 |
| KEGG | C18929 |
| MeSH | D014281 |
| PubChem CID | 12254 |
| RTECS number | SN6125000 |
| UNII | Y72H1408P1 |
| UN number | UN3444 |
| Properties | |
| Chemical formula | C7H5N3O7 |
| Molar mass | 229.13 g/mol |
| Appearance | Yellow crystalline powder |
| Odor | Odorless |
| Density | 1.61 g/cm³ |
| Solubility in water | Slightly soluble |
| log P | 1.89 |
| Vapor pressure | 0.000327 mmHg (25°C) |
| Acidity (pKa) | 6.7 |
| Basicity (pKb) | 8.66 |
| Magnetic susceptibility (χ) | -65.0·10⁻⁶ cm³/mol |
| Refractive index (nD) | 1.595 |
| Dipole moment | 5.70 D |
| Thermochemistry | |
| Std molar entropy (S⦵298) | 210.3 J K⁻¹ mol⁻¹ |
| Std enthalpy of formation (ΔfH⦵298) | -46.7 kJ/mol |
| Std enthalpy of combustion (ΔcH⦵298) | -1566.0 kJ·mol⁻¹ |
| Hazards | |
| GHS labelling | GHS02, GHS06 |
| Pictograms | GHS02,GHS07 |
| Signal word | Danger |
| Hazard statements | H302, H315, H319, H335 |
| Precautionary statements | P280, P305+P351+P338, P337+P313 |
| NFPA 704 (fire diamond) | 2-4-2-X |
| Flash point | 79 °C |
| Autoignition temperature | > 427 °C (801 °F; 700 K) |
| Lethal dose or concentration | LD50 oral rat 391 mg/kg |
| LD50 (median dose) | 330 mg/kg (oral, rat) |
| NIOSH | TTQ21200 |
| PEL (Permissible) | PEL (Permissible Exposure Limit) for Trinitrophenetole: 5 mg/m3 |
| REL (Recommended) | 0.1 ppm |
| IDLH (Immediate danger) | IDLH: 100 mg/m3 |
| Related compounds | |
| Related compounds |
Nitroanisole Trinitrophenol Trinitroresorcinol |