path: root/62881-0.txt

*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 62881 ***

Transcriber’s Note

This book uses footnote anchors at the beginning of some quoted text to
refer to footnotes crediting the sources of those quotes. It also uses
mid-paragraph footnote anchors to refer to other kinds of footnotes.




THE TANK CORPS

[Illustration: MAJOR-GENERAL HUGH ELLES, C. B., D. S. O.

FROM A PORTRAIT BY SIR WILLIAM ORPEN, A. R. A.]




  THE TANK CORPS

  BY
  MAJOR CLOUGH WILLIAMS-ELLIS, M.C.

  AND
  A. WILLIAMS-ELLIS

  WITH AN INTRODUCTION BY
  MAJOR-GENERAL H. J. ELLES, C.B., D.S.O.
  COMMANDER OF THE TANK CORPS

  ILLUSTRATED

  [Illustration: (publisher’s logo)]

  NEW YORK
  GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY




  COPYRIGHT, 1919,
  BY GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY


  PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA




INTRODUCTION


MY DEAR WILLIAMS-ELLIS,

You ask me for a foreword to your history, and invite me, too, to agree
to, criticise, or even refute the conclusions of your Epilogue.

The first task I undertake with pleasure, though I feel it would be
more justly and more skilfully done either by one of the pioneers who
sowed that we might reap, or by the rare thinker who in our own time
has contributed so much to keep us on the lines of clear understanding
and progress.

As to the second task I must decline a direct reply, and for many
reasons I can no more than touch generally upon the questions you have
dealt with in so interesting a way. I find them, however, not yet
sufficiently remote in time, either to be clear themselves, or to be
distinctly placed in a picture itself still obscure.

       *       *       *       *       *

Of the early days of the Tanks, and of the early struggles,
difficulties and hopes of the pioneers, I have no first-hand
knowledge--to comment at any length upon them would be out of place.
They do, however, represent a remarkable effort of persistent
and courageous faith, of determination to succeed in the face of
lukewarmness and even scepticism, of the overcoming of many practical
difficulties. Above all, they present a great clearness of vision on
the part of three men in particular--Swinton, Stern and d’Eyncourt.

It is remarkable that one of the first official papers on the tactical
use of Tanks, written by General Swinton early in 1915, should have
been almost literally translated into action on August 8, 1918.

To General Swinton, too, is due the implanting, into all ranks, of
the fundamental idea of the Tank as a weapon for saving the lives of
infantry. This idea was indeed the foundation of the moral of the Tank
Corps, for it spread from the fighting personnel to the depots and
workshops, and even to the factories.

More than anything else, it was this sentiment which kept men ploughing
through the mud of 1917, in the dark days when often the chance of
reaching an objective had fallen to ten per cent.; which kept workshops
in full swing all round the clock on ten and eleven hour shifts for
weeks and, once, for months on end; which, finally, secured from the
factories an intensive and remarkable output.

Sir Albert Stern brought to his labours a whole-hearted energy and
enthusiasm unsurpassed. But more practical than this alone, he ensured
initial production by a contempt for routine and material difficulties
and a resilience to rebuff as fortunate as they were courageous.

To Sir Eustace d’Eyncourt, the only member of the original Committee
still officially connected with us, a great debt is due. We have been
fortunate to have had at our disposal an engineer of his wide practical
experience, who devoted much of his scanty leisure to our guidance both
in policy and in detail, whose sagacious counsels have more than once
checked the impetuosity of some of his associates.

       *       *       *       *       *

Before passing to the aspects of Tank history with which I have been
directly concerned, I wish to make reference to two organisations vital
to the Tank Corps in the field. For if that represented the point of
the spear, they combined to form a most solid and dependable shaft.

The first of these two was the Training Organisations set up in England
to produce the men; second, the manufactories which produced the
machines.

The task of the Training Centre and the cadet schools was particularly
onerous. The organisation of any new instructional centre in the
haste and pressure of the time was no easy task--its work was often
thankless and subject to much ill-informed and light-hearted criticism.

The Training Centre of the Tank Corps had additional difficulties.
There was no guidance as to training--the entire system had to be
thought out from the beginning, and continually modified by the
experience of the battlefield--instructors had not only to be found but
trained--esprit de corps and discipline had to be built up; and all
this against time.

It may perhaps be a compensation to the many officers and men who lived
laborious days, and were not rewarded by seeing the results of their
work in the field, to know that “France” has never been under any
illusion as to the great thoroughness of their work.

       *       *       *       *       *

The work carried through in the munitions factories, and the ingenuity
and solid labour that backed the efforts of the soldier in the field,
are perhaps not yet fully appreciated by the fighting men. In France
one might hear of sporadic unrest, but till one met with it, one
realised nothing of the genuine faithful grind at production of objects
of whose destination the worker often knew nothing, of the blind
patience under duress of shortage, and of crowded accommodation; of
hope deferred.

The Tank Corps was fortunate indeed in having established at an early
date close relations with its workers, and more fortunate still at a
critical time in being able to declare a substantial dividend on the
capital of wealth, labour and brains entrusted to it by its section of
industrial Britain.

Once touch was obtained with the worker himself, the interest taken by
J. Bull in the factory, in T. Atkins in the field, was more than fully
proved, not only by the demand for copies of accounts of Tank actions,
but by the steadily increased output that was maintained.

The thing is only natural. Put a man or a woman to turn out bolts
from a machine for eight hours a day, and you will get a certain
result. Tell her or him that the bolts will go into a Tank that will
fight probably in six weeks’ time; that the Tank will save lives and
slay Huns; that yesterday Tanks did so-and-so; that last week No.
10567, made in Birmingham, and commanded by Sergeant Jones of Cardiff,
rounded up five machine-guns ... you will get quite a different result;
moreover, it is John Bull’s right and due to be told these things.

We had not got quite a complete result in this direction, but we were
getting near it, and perhaps our co-operation of the back and the front
was as nearly a microcosm of an ideal national co-operation in war as
has been achieved. We aimed at Team Work.

       *       *       *       *       *

You who have coped in a short compass with the whole story of Tanks
can well realise the difficulties of dealing concisely, even by
comment, with the kaleidoscopic events of two and a half crowded
years--with the questions of organisation, training, personnel, design,
supply, fighting, reorganisation, workshops, experiments, salvage,
transportation, maintenance.

I shall attempt no more than to supplement your admirably drawn
narrative as to one or two points which appear to me to be of major
importance or interest.

       *       *       *       *       *

The employment of Tanks in the field was one long conflict between
policy and expediency. Policy seemed always to demand that we should
wait until all was prepared, until sufficient masses of machines
should be ready to use in one great attack that would break the German
defensive system. Expediency necessitated the employment of all
available forces at dates predetermined, and in localities fixed for
reasons other than their suitability as Tank country. Battles are not
won with Tanks alone, and in early 1917, for example, the Tank was
still a comparatively untested machine. Indeed, the later issues of
the Mark I. developed weaknesses in detail so alarming as to preclude
anything more than a short-lived effort in battle.

Not until the Mark IV. machine was well into delivery could a guarantee
as to its degree of mechanical reliability be given, and by that time
the trend of the year’s campaigning was unalterably fixed.

And so it was that it was our fate up to the first Cambrai battle to
“chip in when we could” in conditions entirely unfavourable.

The employment of Tanks in Flanders has often been criticised, without
intelligent appreciation of the fact that had they not fought in
Flanders they would have probably fought nowhere. Better, therefore,
that they should fight and pull less than half their weight, and still
save lives, than that they should stand idle while tremendous issues
were at stake.

       *       *       *       *       *

If employment in the field was a struggle between policy and
expediency, the principles of production and design represented a
direct conflict of opposing policies, resulting happily in compromise.
The fighting man, conscious of the weaknesses of the earlier weapons,
and visualising development which he believed to be obtainable, and
knew to be necessary, and the soldier-engineer overburdened with
difficulties of maintenance and cursed with the nightmare of Spares and
Spares and more Spares--both cried aloud from France for rapid progress
in design.

In England the other side of the picture was presented with equal
force. The process of bulk production necessitates orders placed long
in advance, materials were difficult to obtain, plans of track work
and workshop organisation are not susceptible of change without delay,
change, too, entailing irritation of factory staffs and workmen.
Production once agreed to and embarked upon, a very complicated
machinery is with difficulty set in motion. To stop or change this
machinery results often in a loss of output which is in no way
compensated by the improvements ultimately obtained.

The same problem must have occurred in many branches of war production.
The best, however, is only the enemy of the good, if the good is good
enough.

You have portrayed the difficulties arising from these conditions in
Chapter V. The picture you draw belongs to the earlier stages, when
the two sides worked rather upon regulation than upon formula. The
later stages of the war saw a very full appreciation of each other’s
point of view and the growth of a very sturdy spirit of co-operation,
which carried us over more than one difficulty to meet which special
appliances or special construction were necessary.

       *       *       *       *       *

The Tank, as a weapon, has been threatened with several crises. Some
have been averted by intelligent forecast in specification. Some have
been dealt with by the improvisations of the engineers both in France
and in England. Some have disappeared before a general improvement in
design. You, I think, have touched on one crisis only--the mud crisis.
The mud crisis was defeated at long last, but the swamp crisis, never.
Although none of the other troubles was of long duration, any one of
them, unless cured, would have caused a permanent disappearance of the
arm.

Failure of rollers was succeeded by failure of sprockets. Sprockets and
rollers were hardly cured when the Germans produced a very reliable
armour-piercing bullet. This after a very short innings was defeated by
the arrival of the Mark IV. Tank. The Mark IV. Tank was barely rescued
from the mud of Flanders by the invention of the unditching beam, when
we discovered that the Hindenburg trenches were about one foot too wide
to cross without some form of help to the Tank. This difficulty was
overcome, but about this time the effect of concentrated machine-gun
fire upon Mark IV. Tanks must have become known to the Germans, as
also their vulnerability to the ordinary field gun. The position
with regard to both splash and casualties from guns firing over the
sights, was becoming serious when the arrival of Mark V. Tank, with its
increased handiness and speed, put an end to the splash difficulty for
ever, and defeated the field gun for a good long time.

So on to the last days of the war, when we were able to look forward
to 1919 with a certain knowledge that we had much in hand against any
measure of opposition--short of a superior Tank--that the enemy could
produce.

The idea undoubtedly exists still in the minds of certain people
that the particular form of Tank which they have seen or fought with
represents the latest word in design. It does not. The latest Tank
produced in any bulk was the type that marched through London on July
19. It has never fought, and it represents the last word only of the
elementary series of Tanks of which Mark I. was the original.

       *       *       *       *       *

If finality in design has by no means been approached in the war,
the same may be said as regards the employment of the then existing
types. This depended, after due consideration of their limitations
and powers, on the training of personnel, not only of the Tank Corps,
but essentially of infantry too. Lack of time, lack of opportunity,
and wastage of trained personnel were the great difficulties which
confronted commanders of every arm and formation in their efforts to
reach even average standards of skill in only a few of the commoner
phases of warfare. With the Tank Corps the additional difficulties of
mechanical training were no more than balanced by freedom from the
trench routine of troops employed for defence. For the infantry Tank,
the training of Tank personnel alone is not sufficient. In the assault,
Tanks are no more than a part of infantry, an integral part of the
_troupes d’assaut_. For real success, i.e., cheap success, not only
must the two arms train and re-train together, but they should live
together, feed together, and drink together.

Much was attempted and much was done to supplement the lack of
opportunity by demonstration, lectures, attachments. But by reason of
the incomplete military education of our hastily-trained troops it
was necessary to limit manœuvre and tactics on the battlefield to the
simplest elements. Anything in the nature of finesse had to be avoided.
Skilful use of ground and mutual fire support were things hoped for
more often than achieved.

It was a question of bulk production against time, but the results
obtained only prove how much more could be achieved with the same
material had conditions of training been those of peace time with its
long service and rigorous and plentiful supervision.

       *       *       *       *       *

The preceding paragraph may seem ungracious from one who has had the
privilege of commanding a great force of citizen soldiers. It is
nevertheless true that soldiering, like any other trade, takes time
and experience to learn--that though there may be many who, being
engineers, or advocates, or business men, or farmers, learn soldiering
with great aptitude, the great bulk of any body of men, call them
regular soldiers or citizen soldiers, require a deal of training under
the best instructors, if they are to draw the full advantage from the
ever varying conditions of the battlefield.

       *       *       *       *       *

I have alluded above to the Tank Corps as a citizen force. It was,
indeed, peculiarly so, for of the 20,000 odd souls that went to compose
it, perhaps not more than two or three per cent. were professional
soldiers; and, while the General Staff officers on H.Qs. were almost
without exception regulars, the whole of the Administrative and
Engineering staffs with one solitary exception were drawn from various
civil vocations.

Moreover, units as they came into being were built up, not on any
old-time tradition of a parent regiment, but each one very much around
the personality of its own commanding officer. And it has indeed been
interesting to watch the development of particular idiosyncrasies of
whole battalions and companies from the characters of their leaders.

Your record has faithfully set forth what has been accomplished by
these troops. They are well able to sustain criticism in the light of
their achievements.

       *       *       *       *       *

I have alluded before to the esprit de corps, founded as it was upon
the sentiment of saving of life--a sentiment to which appeal has never
failed. Other factors went to strengthen it. It was braced by a high
standard of results demanded, by the determination to make good in
spite of partial first successes. But the strongest element in it was
the faith in our weapon--the machine necessary to supplement the other
machines of war, in order to break the stalemate produced by the great
German weapon, the machine-gun--our mobile offensive answer to the
immobile defensive man-killer.

       *       *       *       *       *

It is indeed a curious reflection that the Germans before committing
themselves to their great final offensive, should not have followed
to their logical conclusion the preparations which they made for the
preceding phases of the war with such meticulous forethought. In 1914,
they removed from the path of their attacking infantry the prepared
obstacles of permanent fortification by means of specially-constructed
machines--siege cannon of unprecedented size. Later, they developed
the machine-gun in bulk, and so modified the preconceived course of
warfare to their own advantage for defence. It is astonishing that for
their final offensive effort, they should not have equipped their men
with armament for overcoming the very defence in depth supported by the
very machine-guns from which they had reaped so much advantage in the
previous years.

And yet we see them in March, 1918, reverting after an initial attack,
powerfully covered by artillery fire, to the same attempt to break
through with men that had failed in 1914. Although machine-gun support
was stronger, there was little help from the other arms beyond scanty
artillery support and considerable frightfulness of day and night
bombing and long-range bombardment. The German infantry was well, often
magnificently, led, whether in Picardy or Flanders; and one could
not watch the work of the strong offensive patrols without intense
admiration of their skill and courage.

The Germans failed against defence in depth. The elements that were
wanting were those of continuous mobility necessary to overcome such
defence, against which infantry without powerful support and plentiful
supply sooner or later become powerless. The Germans lacked the means
to move and to supply their guns rapidly. They lacked Tanks to produce
surprise or to carry forward the battle as an alternative to guns. They
lacked lorries, they lacked cross-country vehicles.

With us, when the tide turned, the converse was the case, and it was at
least a part reason of success against an enemy who fought bravely and
often bitterly almost to the end.

       *       *       *       *       *

Whether you justly appraise the contribution of the Tank Corps towards
the final victory is for history to declare--at some interval yet--but
I am hardy enough to give you a parable in the terms of a great
national pastime.

Rugby football of all games affords the closest analogy to war--to
warfare on the Western Front the parallel, without labouring the
detail, is remarkable.

In the early nineties the accepted tactics of the game demanded a
distribution of the team into nine forwards and six backs. The orthodox
believed in forward play, and in emergency sometimes even a tenth
forward would be added at the expense of one back.

At this time there occurred in the annual matches between two
countries an uninterrupted series of defeats for one. As a measure of
resource or despair, I do not know which, a new distribution was made
in its forces. Instead of nine, eight forwards were played, one back
was added--the fourth three-quarter.

The tactics were for the forwards to hold the opposing attack and for
the backs to play offensively. The game is historic. For three-quarters
of the match the nine forwards pressed the eight heavily, and these
were very hard put to it to maintain their lines. In the last phase of
the game one of the four three-quarters got away unmarked, the game was
won and lost.

That was twenty-five years ago. The rules of the game remain unchanged,
but the distribution of the players has been modified and the tactics
of teams have developed on the lines of that historic match and beyond.

Whether the parallel of the Tank Corps to the extra three-quarter is a
completely true one history will record in due season. What, however,
we may claim is that the fourth three-quarter after a nervous start, in
which perhaps he was sometimes out of his place, nevertheless on more
than one occasion got away unmarked; that he ran straight even when he
was being heavily tackled and drew the opposition for his side; that he
went down well to the rushes of the German forwards; and that, finally,
he more than once handled the ball in the great combined run which took
his team from within its own twenty-five over the opponents’ goal line.

                              Yours sincerely,

[Illustration: Hugh Ellis (signature)]

  _United Service Club,
    July 28, 1919._




CONTENTS


  CHAPTER                                                           PAGE
         INTRODUCTION                                                  v

      I  A BRIEF ACCOUNT OF THE TANK, ITS CREW AND ITS TACTICAL
            FUNCTIONS, AS THEY WERE AT THE DATE OF THE ARMISTICE      25

     II  THE EARLIEST TANKS, GENERAL SWINTON, ADMIRAL BACON,--THE
            HOLT TRACTOR AND THE EVOLUTION OF THE “LAND CRUISER”      31

    III  THE TANK CORPS IN EMBRYO                                     46

     IV  THE FIRST TANK BATTLES--THE ATTACK ON MORVAL, FLERS, THE
            QUADRILATERAL, THIEPVAL, AND BEAUMONT-HAMEL               57

      V  WINTER TRAINING, EXPANSION AND READJUSTMENTS                 77

     VI  THE BATTLES OF ARRAS AND BULLECOURT                          89

    VII  THE BATTLE OF MESSINES AND THE “HUSH” OPERATION             110

   VIII  THE FLANDERS CAMPAIGN--PREPARATIONS FOR THE THIRD BATTLE
            OF YPRES                                                 124

     IX  THE THIRD BATTLE OF YPRES                                   138

      X  THE FIRST BATTLE OF CAMBRAI                                 160

     XI  THREE NEW TYPES OF TANK--THE DEPOT--CENTRAL WORKSHOPS       190

    XII  THE FRENCH TANK CORPS--AMERICAN TANKS AND BRITISH TANKS
            IN EGYPT                                                 209

   XIII  SUSPENSE--THE “SAVAGE RABBITS” EPISODE--THE ENEMY’S
            INTENTIONS                                               235

    XIV  THE MARCH RETREAT                                           243

     XV  THE EQUILIBRIUM--MINOR ACTIONS--HAMEL--THE BALLON
            D’ESSAI                                                  265

    XVI  WITH THE FRENCH--THE BATTLE OF MOREUIL                      280

   XVII  THE BATTLE OF AMIENS, OR BATTLE OF AUGUST 8                 288

  XVIII  THE GERMAN ATTITUDE--“MAN-TRAPS AND GINS”--THE BATTLE
            OF BAPAUME                                               323

    XIX  BREAKING THE DROCOURT-QUÉANT LINE--THE BATTLE OF EPEHY      341

     XX  THE SECOND BATTLE OF CAMBRAI, OR THE BATTLE OF
            CAMBRAI-ST. QUENTIN                                      361

    XXI  THE SECOND BATTLE OF LE CATEAU--THE RUNNING FIGHT           380

   XXII  THE ROUT--MORMAL FOREST--THE BATTLE OF THE SAMBRE--THE
            ARMISTICE                                                392

         EPILOGUE                                                    402

         INDEX                                                       417




ILLUSTRATIONS


  MAJOR-GENERAL HUGH ELLES, C.B., D.S.O. From a portrait by Sir
      William Orpen, A.R.A.                               _Frontispiece_

                                                                  FACING
                                                                    PAGE

  GENERAL ARRANGEMENTS OF MARK V. TANK--FRONT VIEW                    28

  GENERAL ARRANGEMENT OF MARK V. TANK--SECTIONAL ELEVATION            28

  GENERAL ARRANGEMENT OF MARK V. TANK--SECTIONAL PLAN                 29

  DIAGRAM SHOWING ADAPTATION TO THE “LARGE-WHEELED TRACTOR” IDEA      29

  THE ORIGINAL THIEPVAL MARK I. TANK WITH ANTI-BOMB ROOF AND
      “TAIL”                                                          64

  FIELD CAMOUFLAGE                                                    64

  A DERELICT. VALLEY OF THE SCARPE                                    96

  A BURNING TANK                                                      96

  “DIRECT HITS”                                                       97

  BELLIED ON A TREE-STUMP AND SUBSEQUENTLY HIT                        97

  A FLANDERS PILL-BOX                                                132

  THE UNDITCHING BEAM IN ACTION                                      132

  THE STEENBEEK VALLEY BEFORE THE BATTLE                             133

  THE STEENBEEK VALLEY AFTER BOMBARDMENT                             133

  A DEADLY SWAMP (THE WRECKS OF SIX TANKS MAY BE COUNTED)            144

  “CLAPHAM JUNCTION” NEAR SANCTUARY WOOD                             145

  “THE SALIENT”                                                      145

  PREPARING FOR CAMBRAI. A TRAIN OF TANKS WITH FASCINES IN
      POSITION                                                       176

  THE BAPAUME-CAMBRAI ROAD                                           177

  A TANK CRUSHING DOWN THE ENEMY’S WIRE                              177

  SLEDGE TOWING TANK TAKING UP SUPPLIES                              200

  BERMICOURT CHATEAU NEAR ST. POL. TANK CORPS MAIN HEADQUARTERS      200

  GUN-CARRYING TANK TAKING UP A HOWITZER                             201

  A WHIPPET GOING IN                                                 201

  SMOKE SCREEN AND SEMAPHORE                                         304

  A TANKADROME                                                       304

  MOVING UP. BATTLE OF AMIENS                                        305

  THE ARMOURED CARS GOING UP                                         305

  GERMAN ANTI-TANK GUNNERS. (From a photograph found on a
      prisoner)                                                      336

  AN ANTI-TANK GUN IN A STEEL CUPOLA (YPRES)                         336

  A CAPTURED GERMAN TANK                                             337

  A GERMAN ANTI-TANK RIFLE                                           337

  INFANTRY ADVANCING BEHIND TANKS. A PRACTICE ATTACK AT
      BERMICOURT                                                     368

  THE ST. QUENTIN CANAL TUNNEL, BELLICOURT                           369

  CARRIER PIGEON BEING RELEASED                                      369

  HIS MAJESTY THE COLONEL-IN-CHIEF AND GENERAL ELLES                 384

  MANUFACTURE                                                        385

  THE WESTERN EDGE OF MORMAL FOREST                                  396

  A “WIRELESS” TANK                                                  397

  MAP OF TANK OPERATIONS, AUGUST–NOVEMBER, 1918                      416




THE TANK CORPS




CHAPTER I

A BRIEF ACCOUNT OF THE TANK, ITS CREW AND ITS TACTICAL FUNCTIONS, AS
THEY WERE AT THE DATE OF THE ARMISTICE


I

The secrets of the Tank Corps have been so well kept that there are few
civilians who even now know anything of Tanks or their crews beyond
what might be learned from photographs, or a distant view of “Egbert”
or some other War Bond or Olympian Tank.

The Censorship has seen to it that the civilian has had no opportunity
of making himself familiar with the tactical opportunities and problems
that the use of Tanks has introduced or with the conditions under which
Tank crews fight.

It is for the civilian reader that the present chapter is intended.
He is to be given some idea of the oak tree before he is invited to
dissect the acorn.

If he has no idea of the appearance and habits of the Tanks that fought
at the Canal du Nord or that pushed back the enemy at Mormal, he cannot
be expected to thrill as he should over the vicissitudes of the first
converted Holt Tractor. For to one who had never seen the engine of a
through express the history of “Puffing Billy” would almost certainly
prove insufferably tedious.

The authors, therefore, propose to deal, very briefly, with the modern
Tank before plunging the reader into the dark ages of 1914, where, to
pursue our analogy, Watt’s kettle-lid and the “Rocket” dwell obscurely.


II

Every detail of Tank Corps’ training, equipment, and tactics has
been modified in view of some limitation or opportunity arising from
the structure of the Tank itself. Therefore, though this book is
principally concerned with the development of the Tank Corps rather
than with the intricate evolution of the Tanks themselves, the reader
will find it necessary to have a general idea of the construction and
workings of the different types of machine.

It would indeed be as idle to describe the anatomy of a snail or a
lobster without mention of its shell, as to endeavour to separate the
story of the Tank Corps from that of its Tanks.

When the War ended in November, 1918, there were, besides obsolete
types which were still used for such work as carrying and the towing of
supply sledges, three main types of Tank. First, the Mark V., which was
26 ft. long, 8 ft. 4 in. wide, weighed 27 tons, and had a horse-power
of 150. The Male Tanks carried two 6-pounder guns, and one Hotchkiss
gun. The Female carried five Hotchkiss machine-guns and no 6-pounder
guns.

_The Mark V. Star._--This Tank resembled the Mark V., except that it
had a length of 32 ft. 6 in., and was designed for the transport of
infantry and for the traversing of trenches too wide for the Mark V.
Each had a normal speed of about five miles an hour, and was protected
by armour up to five-eights of an inch thick.

They were both so designed as to turn easily at their maximum speed,
and carried attachments for use on soft ground, which increased the
grip of the tracks.

Each was fought by a crew consisting of a subaltern and seven men,
three drivers (two of whom normally fought the Hotchkiss guns), and
three gunners.

The third type was the Whippet. The tracks were nearly as long as those
of a heavy Tank, but the body had been reduced to a small cab perched
at the back, rather as an urchin rides a donkey. It was armed with two
machine-guns, managed by a crew of three men, and developed a speed of
seven miles an hour. Whippets were designed for use as raiders and in
conjunction with cavalry. In practice, however, the cavalry was seldom
able to act with them. Partly in consequence of this, partly owing to
the state of open warfare being of such short duration, the Whippets,
though having brilliant feats to their credit (see the exploits of
“Musical Box,” Chapter XIII), remained creatures of promise rather than
of achievement.


III

As a rule Male Mark V. Tanks were used against Pill-Boxes and other
“strong points,” while the special work of Female Tanks was to
deal with hostile infantry (for example, by sitting astride and
thus enfilading their trenches), and then to finish the process of
flattening the enemy’s wire which the Male Tanks had begun.

All three types of Tank were capable of going across country. That
is to say they could, for example, follow a pack of hounds anywhere,
except perhaps in the Fens.

Ditches, heavy plough, banks, walls, hedges, or fences could all be
negotiated.

Tanks could also go over many obstacles--notably over wire--where the
Field, even were they willing “to take a windmill in the harbour of the
chase,” must go round.

But as a moment’s reflection will show, there must remain in every
country certain features which will prove absolute barriers to the
progress of Tanks.

Chief among these are canals and deep rivers (unless spanned by strong
bridges), very steep railway cuttings, railway embankments, marsh, or
woods in which the trees are too strong to be pushed over, and too
dense-set to be steered through.

Besides these natural, or at least civilian, obstacles, there will be
inevitable military obstacles in any country that has been fought over.

For example, old half-blown-in trench systems make ground “awkward,”
and Tanks operate at extreme disadvantage in country like that round
Ypres, which was by 1917 a continuous network of water-logged shell and
mine craters, with no original ground left at all.

Again, by the close of hostilities the number of anti-Tank devices
employed by the Germans was very considerable. They paid the new arm
the compliment of an intricate system of defence and counter-offence
which included concealed Tank traps made on the model of elephant-pits,
formidable double-traversed trenches, a branch of special anti-Tank
artillery, heavily reinforced concrete stockades, and an elaborate
system of land mines.

With so many obstacles to avoid or to negotiate, with their fate often
hanging upon a prompt and accurate use of their guns, the crew inside
the Tank were doomed by the conditions under which they fought to an
almost incredibly limited view of the surrounding world.

[Illustration: GENERAL ARRANGEMENT OF MARK V. TANK--FRONT VIEW]

[Illustration: GENERAL ARRANGEMENT OF MARK V. TANK--SECTIONAL ELEVATION]

When the flaps were closed (see diagram showing interior of a Mark
V. Tank), as they had to be directly the Tank came under close fire,
the crew were in almost complete darkness, and had to rely upon their
periscope or, alternatively, upon minute eye-holes (about the size of
the capital O’s used in this text) bored through the armour-plating. If
the fire was at all heavy the periscope was usually quickly put out of
action, and the officer and gunners had only the extremely limited view
afforded by these holes.

[Illustration: GENERAL ARRANGEMENT OF MARK V. TANK--SECTIONAL PLAN]

[Illustration: DIAGRAM SHOWING HOW THE CATERPILLAR METHOD OF TRACTION
CARRIED OUT THE PRINCIPLE OF THE “LARGE-WHEELED TRACTOR.” SEE NOTE AT
END OF CHAPTER II.]

They were thus almost entirely dependent upon their maps, the
special Tank compass, and upon the information which a preliminary
reconnaissance of the ground had given them.

This circumstance not only profoundly modified the training of the
officers and crews, but also necessitated the organisation of what was
almost a new service. This service was the “Reconnaissance” branch of
the Intelligence. When the Tank Corps was ordered to take part in an
attack, the Reconnaissance Staff was responsible for the preliminary
survey of the proposed battle site for a report as to where and how
Tanks could best operate, and finally for a series of detailed maps
and sketches. In these maps and sketches the route of every individual
Tank was set forth from landmark to landmark, together with the
assigned objectives of each machine and the obstacles which it was
likely to encounter. These maps and sketches were compiled from aerial
surveys, captured German maps and documents, information gained from
local inhabitants, accounts given by prisoners, the original Ordnance
survey, and from personal reconnaissance. By 1918 this system had been
so developed that the infantry came to rely almost entirely upon their
accompanying Tanks for direction.

This added greatly to the importance and responsibility of the work
both of Tank Reconnaissance officers and of commanders.


IV

Topographical information can only be adequately conveyed to a more
or less trained receiver, and it was therefore found necessary to add
an elementary course on Reconnaissance to the already long list of
subjects in which the members of every Tank crew must train. The crew
were an assemblage of experts.

An average of about a month was spent by every soldier at the training
depots and battle-practice grounds. Here each man did about ten days’
course as a driver or gunner, learned revolver-shooting, signalling,
and the management of carrier pigeons, and went through a gas course.
In view of the probability of casualties, each man was also given a
working knowledge of every other man’s job. But most vital of all--the
conditions under which Tank crews fought being out of the common trying
and arduous--the scheme of training aimed at creating a high sense of
discipline; that _esprit de corps_ and that tradition of valour which
teaches men to endure the unendurable.

This supreme end it achieved, as a perusal of the Tank Corps Honours
List will show.

Such, then, were the Tanks and their crews in the autumn of 1918.

In the pages which follow, the reader will see from how crude an embryo
the Tank sprang, and through what hair-breadth escapes alike from
official overlaying and annihilation by the enemy, it passed in the
four years of which we are about to relate the history.




CHAPTER II

THE EARLIEST TANKS--GENERAL SWINTON--ADMIRAL BACON--THE HOLT TRACTOR
AND THE EVOLUTION OF THE “LAND CRUISER”


I

The War had only been in progress for a few weeks when the first idea
of the first Tank was born almost simultaneously in the minds of
General E. D. Swinton, Major Tulloch, Captain Hetherington and Mr.
Diplock, and--if we are to believe rumour and their own account of the
affair--of several hundreds of other gentlemen.

“Born” is perhaps not quite the appropriate word. At any rate it is to
be understood, if not in a Pickwickian, at least in a Pythagorean sense.

For by 1914 the Tank had successively passed through several tentative
and inconclusive incarnations.

In 1482 Leonardo da Vinci invented a kind of Tank;[1] a wooden “War
Cart” was used by the Scottish in the fifteenth century.[2]

There were designs for a Tank for the Crimea, but the project of this
weapon was abandoned as being barbarous. Lastly, a really practical
design for a kind of “Caterpillar” to be driven by steam was made in
1888. A trial machine was even constructed. But Fate decreed that all
trace of design and model should be instantly lost, only apparently to
be rediscovered after the modern Tank had been thought out afresh.

Why, if the Tank was constantly being invented, did it as constantly
disappear? The reason appears to have been that, like the early
aeroplanes, all these abortive machines had failed in one particular.

The engine was not powerful enough. The steam Tank had not in the least
answered the riddle. The horse-power could, it is true, be almost
indefinitely increased, but, like a kind of Old Man of the Sea, the
engine weight would have increased proportionately and the “free” power
have been no more.

Indeed till the invention of the petrol engine the Tank was doomed to
be unpractical. Its three essentials--armour-plating, guns, and ability
to surmount obstacles and traverse open country--demanded a large
amount of this “free” power.

Only, therefore, when an engine was produced whose proportion of power
to weight was about 100 H.P. to every ten hundredweight, did the Tank
become a possible and effective engine of war.

Thus, till the time was ripe the Tank had been doomed to enjoy very
brief excursions into the actual, and to sojourn, long forgotten,
beyond the waters of Lethe.

Does memory survive transmigration? Were General Swinton and his
co-inventors aware of the Crimea Tank and the 1888 Tractor? In any
case the matter is not one of great importance, for--to put it
briefly--ultimately their Tank went, and the others did not.

By October, 1914, Colonel Swinton and Captain Tulloch had independently
worked out the details of an engine of war. Like the other early
inventors, they imagined a machine that was to “arise” out of a cross
between an armoured car and an agricultural tractor. It was to be
slower, more formidable and far heavier than any armoured car that had
yet been seen, a kind of “Land Cruiser” capable of plodding on its
caterpillar feet across country right up to the enemy’s gun positions.
Like the other early “mobile machine-gun destroyers,” it was to be
strongly armed with guns and machine-guns, and so heavily steel-plated
as to be impervious to shrapnel, H.-E. fragments and rifle bullets.
It was to cross trenches with ease, and was to be capable either of
cutting or of flattening the enemy’s wire in the mere act of its
progress.

By November Colonel Swinton and Captain Tulloch were in close touch
with one another, and the child of their fancy descended from the clear
regions of pure thought to battle its slow way forward amid the fogs
and thornbrakes of actual experiment and official memoranda.

Well-informed readers will perhaps wonder why the present authors have
singled out Captain Tulloch and Colonel Swinton from amid “the press of
knights.” Do they intend to lay the laurel on their brows? To declare
that they alone invented the Tank?

The chroniclers pretend to no such judicial powers. Be theirs rather
the genial rôle of the Dodo in _Alice in Wonderland_, who at the end
of the Caucus-race allotted one of Alice’s comfits to each of the
competitors.

As far, however, as they can disentangle the complexities of the
evidence, it does appear to have been through these two enthusiasts
that the Tank idea first took tangible shape. The notion was in the
air, perhaps it took unsubstantial form in other minds before October,
1914,--it seems probable that it did in Mr. Diplock’s and Mr. McFee’s,
for example. Perhaps, too, in other minds it was later to take clearer
and more practical shape.

But it does seem to have been Colonel Swinton and Captain Tulloch who,
first of the band of pioneers, had the courage and the practical energy
to forward a somewhat startling notion in official quarters.

For Mr. Diplock’s first “Pedrail” machine, whose plans he laid before
Lord Kitchener and Mr. Winston Churchill in November, 1914, was a Gun
Tractor, not a fighting machine. It was not till February 1915 that Mr.
Diplock (in conjunction with a Committee appointed by Mr. Churchill)
officially so much as contemplated the building of a “Land Cruiser.”

Fortunately one of the first of the Swinton memoranda was submitted
through Colonel Sir Maurice Hankey, Secretary to the Committee of
Imperial Defence, who was an early and active friend to the idea of the
new arm.

Difficulties, however, abounded. Many were actual, some were imaginary.

For example, it was urged that to design and build such machines would
take over a year. Surely the war would be over!

Then when the counsels of those kill-joys prevailed who believed that
the war would “hold,” and it was decided to experiment with the “mobile
machine-gun destroyers,” various technical difficulties arose.

It was difficult to procure some of the essentials without elaborate
manufacture and the making of special tools, and makeshift parts were,
therefore, substituted. Fitted with these makeshifts, the Land Cruisers
were a disappointment.

The first tests were carried out in February 1915, when Captain
Tulloch’s adaptation of the Holt Tractor was given a trial. It did not
prove a complete failure, and much was learned from the experiment. For
example, the machine was unexpectedly effective in rolling in the wire
which it had been originally intended that its automatic “lobster-claw”
wire-cutters should alone deal with.

In June Admiral Bacon’s Forster-Daimler Tractor of 155 H.P., fitted
with a self-bridging apparatus, was experimented with.

This, too, proved disappointing, in so far as the device was to fulfil
the proposed functions of a Land Cruiser. It refused to cross trenches,
though it proved a practical Tractor, and it was later used in “trams”
of eight machines for the transport of 15-in. guns.

The position, therefore, in June 1915, as far as the War Office was
concerned, was as follows: Proposals had been put forward by Colonel
Swinton, Admiral Bacon, and Captain Tulloch, and submitted to the War
Office; certain trials had been made, the result of which was, in
the view of the authorities, to emphasise the engineering and other
difficulties. It was only in June that the War Office ascertained that
investigations on similar lines were being carried out by the Admiralty.

For the Admiralty, with a large land force at its disposal, had been
for some time casting about for means whereby the men of that force
might go into battle more in Navy fashion, that is (to misquote the
“heroic Spanish gunners”) with something better than serge, “joined to
their own invincible courage,” between them and the enemy’s bullets.

Mr. Churchill had, as early as January 1915, written a letter to the
Prime Minister expressing his entire agreement with Colonel Hankey’s
remarks “on the subject of special mechanical devices for taking
trenches.”

The idea of employing a large armoured shield on wheels, or of using
ordinary steam tractors on which a small bullet-proof shelter had
been fitted, had been considered. Mr. Churchill interested himself
personally in the scheme, and he and his expert, Major Hetherington of
the R.N.A.S.--the third independent inventor--worked hard to evolve and
then “push” a practical machine.

In the early spring of 1915 a Committee, called the Land Ship
Committee, was appointed,[3] and many designs of wheel and caterpillar
tractors were submitted to it. One of these designs was especially
interesting not only for its astonishing appearance, but for the
influence which it exerted upon the “profile” of the future Tank. The
curious will find a brief account of it in the Note at the end of the
chapter. It was Mr. Churchill’s Committee who called in Major Wilson,
Mr. Tritton, and Mr. Tennyson d’Eyncourt as consultants, “when a design
was evolved which embodied the form finally adopted for Tanks.”

Thus, while the honour of the first designs and experiments belongs to
the War Office, it was to the enterprise of this Admiralty Committee
that most of the credit of the evolution of the Mark I. Tank was due.

It was, as we have said, apparently not until the Admiralty Committee
had been at work for some time that the Director of Fortifications and
Works, on behalf of the War Office, ascertained that the Admiralty had
designs for a “Land Cruiser” in hand.

The two Departments met at Wormwood Scrubs to witness the Admiralty’s
trials of a Killen-Straight tractor. It was a remarkable occasion, for
a number of men who were destined profoundly to influence the history
of the Tanks now saw a foreshadowing of such an engine for the first
time.

Among them were Lord Kitchener, Mr. Lloyd George, Mr. Balfour, and Mr.
McKenna. Mr. Winston Churchill was also there, but to him an armoured
tractor was no novelty.

After this gathering the Tank enthusiasts of the two Departments fell
upon each other’s necks, swore eternal friendship, and in the middle of
June formed a Joint Committee, of which Lieutenant Stern was Secretary.

Tanks--when any existed which would work--were to be a military service
in the Department of the Master-General of Ordnance.

The Admiralty was to continue its work of designing, was to provide
cash for experiments, and Mr. Churchill, its late First Lord, was to
continue his invaluable work as a propellant. All seemed prosperous,
for the representatives of the two Services appear to have worked
pretty harmoniously, and the better informed and more progressive heads
of Departments on both sides showed an interested benevolence.

But unfortunately--especially at the War Office--there appear to have
been a certain number of obstructionists.

One senior Officer, fearing, one supposes, to be diverted from his
ideal of the official attitude by the sight of these ungodly engines,
refused so much as to attend the trials. The Adjutant-General (then
no doubt, poor man, sufficiently harassed) rigidly refused a single
man for the new arm. Fortunately, the Joint Committee was resourceful,
and, after a preliminary appeal to Mrs. Pankhurst for militant
suffragists,[4] they induced the Admiralty to turn over to them the
20th Squadron of the Armoured Car Reserve, and to increase the strength
of this unit from 50 to 600 men.

By July Colonel Swinton--another of the Tank’s best sources of
power--had returned to France. G.H.Q. was later to be more propitious,
but now the taste of those inconclusive experiments was still in its
mouth, and their chief technical adviser had begun to have horrid
doubts about the whole affair. “Caterpillars,” he remarked, that he had
lately seen “could only go at the rate of 1½ miles an hour on roads,
were very slow in turning, and nearly every bridge in the country would
require strengthening to carry them.” “It was necessary to descend from
the realms of imagination to solid fact.”

Colonel Swinton explained and exhorted and expostulated.


II

Meanwhile the Joint War Office and Admiralty Committee system was too
simple to last.

From August 1915 to August 1917, when the “New” Tank Committee was
formed, the control and administration of Tank manufacture and design
were extraordinarily tentative and shifting. Necessarily so. The home
organisation had to expand very rapidly, and constantly to adapt itself
to changed conditions of Tank tactics abroad and Tank manufacture at
home.

Even the multiplicity of the authorities concerned seems to have been
to a great extent inevitable. The Tank had, of course, initially
complicated its early history by starting life in Infantry puttees and
a south-wester.

At the point we have reached, its story plunges into a whirling
quicksand of departments, branches, committees, and conferences,
which were reorganised and rearranged--changed hats and functions
with bewildering frequency. This tangle of activity Colonel Swinton
throughout made it his hobby to understand and his business to
co-ordinate.

The present historians, on the contrary, feel tempted to adopt the
simple method of their Hebrew predecessor, who, having picked out one
plum, so often blandly continues: “And the rest of the acts of the
Trench Warfare Department and all that they did, are they not written
in the book of the archives of the War Office?”

However, it is possible that the Hebrew historian honestly believed
that the lost books of the Chronicles were really available to the
inquiring reader. The present authors have no such illusion about War
Office papers, and therefore propose to give at least an outline of the
vicissitudes and fluctuations of early Tank control.

The chief persons of the Drama remain throughout:

_The War Office_: (1) In its capacity as Ordnance, and (2) in its
capacity as General Staff. Later (3) as the Tank Department, War Office.

_G.H.Q._: (1) In its main capacity, and as (2) The Experiments
Committee.

Later, the _H.B.M.G.C._

Finally, the Tank Corps.

_The Admiralty_: (1) In its capacity as the Land Ship Committee, and
(2) as Squadron 20 of the R.N.A.S.

_The Ministry of Munitions_: (1) In its capacity as the Trench Warfare
Department; (2) in its capacity as the Inventions Department. (3)
Later, as the Mechanical Warfare Supply Department (really another Tank
Committee). (4) Later still, as the Tank Supply Department.

_The successive Main Tank Committees_: (1) The Joint Naval and
Military Committee (which did not survive Act I.). (2) The Tank Supply
Committee, afterwards called the Advisory Committee of the Tank Supply
Department, and divided into a main committee and a sub-committee.
(It was this sub-committee which afterwards formed the backbone of
the very active and occasionally criticised M.W.S.D., before referred
to). Later, (3) after a gap, the First Tank Committee; (4) the Second
reconstructed Tank Committee.

_Grand Chorus of Directors General, Interdepartmental Conferences,
Manufacturers, and Workshop Personnel._


III

We find that the period from August 1915 to February 1916 constitutes a
kind of Act I. in the history of Tank administration and manufacture,
for the 1914 and early 1915 period is too dim and legendary to serve as
anything but prologue.

During the whole of the Act I. period it was the Admiralty and the
Joint Land Ship Committee which played the “leads.”

It was the Admiralty which defrayed the whole cost of the extensive
experimental work and provided the necessary personnel, and it was by
members of the Joint Committee in consultation that the Mark I. Tank,
“Mother,” was ultimately designed.

On September 11, two months after Colonel Swinton’s visit, the
Experiments Committee, G.H.Q., laid down in an excellent and
far-sighted memorandum what were the qualities which they desired
should be aimed at in designs for the caterpillar cruiser and what were
the tactical purposes which it must serve.

By September 28 the Joint Committee had so far perfected the design
of “Mother” as to have had a wooden dummy (officially described as
a “mock-up”) made, and on that day her counterfeit was inspected at
Wembley by an Interdepartmental Conference, and approved.

Some weeks elapsed while the Joint Committee worked out the further
details of their machine, and about December 3 Mr. Churchill
wrote a Memorandum entitled “Variants of the Offensive,” in which
he paradoxically accentuated the value of defensive armour as a
preservative of mobility. There was to be a new form of attack. It was
to be launched at night under the guidance of searchlights. Caterpillar
Tractors were to breach the enemy’s line, and then turn right and left.
The Infantry were to follow them closely under cover of bullet-proof
shields.

On Christmas Day Sir Douglas Haig (who had lately taken over from Sir
John French, and who as yet “knew not Joseph”) read the paper with
interest, and pinned a pencil slip upon it, “Is anything known about
the Caterpillar referred to in para. 4, page 3?”

No time was lost in finding out, and a few days later G.H.Q. sent
an officer to England to inquire into the matter. This officer was
Lieutenant-Colonel Hugh Elles, who was afterwards to be the first Tank
General.

By the end of January 1916 the experimental machine--no pasteboard
simulation, but “Mother” herself--was complete, and on February 2 the
official trial was held at Hatfield, before the Army Council and a
representative of G.H.Q.

“Mother” made good, and G.H.Q. asked to be supplied with a certain
number of the Land Cruisers. A small Executive Tank Supply Committee
with much fuller powers than the old Joint Committee, was formed under
the Presidency of Lieutenant (now Colonel Sir Albert) Stern, and orders
were at once given to begin manufacture.

So ended Act I.


IV

The first scene of Act II. (March to mid-August) was occupied with one
of the most dramatic achievements of the War.

This was the manufacture at Lincoln of the first 150 “Land Ships”
ordered by the Government, in the space of six months, and in absolute
secrecy.

The public discussed the phantom Russians who travelled through England
by night. It discussed the Germans who nightly signalled to each other
throughout the inland counties. But it did not discuss the large
water-tanks or cisterns that were being made for Petrograd, Egypt, or
Mesopotamia, or some such place.

That this vital secrecy was kept for months by hundreds of people was
chiefly due to the happy effect of copious and imaginative lying.

There was no mystery about these grotesque armour-plated creatures!
They were not really for Mesopotamia at all. Every one knew that.

The Russian Government had ordered them. They were ridiculous things?
Of course they were. It was a Russian design. Was there not even
an inscription in Russian characters on them? At least they might
frighten the Germans if they served no other useful purpose.

Tradition relates that when the first drawings were brought to the
manager’s office of the factory which had been selected for the
manufacture of the “water-carriers,” the manager and his staff
expressed themselves as being seriously concerned for the sanity of the
designers, and of those who submitted such drawings to practical men
like themselves.

They were, however, let into the secret of the real part which Tanks
were to play, and though still profoundly incredulous, decided, like
good citizens, to carry out whatever work was asked of them. The
vital necessity of secrecy having been impressed upon them, they were
asked--tradition continues--what arrangements they would like made
about sentries and the isolation of their workpeople. After a little
consideration they answered that they would only guarantee that the
secret should be kept on condition that they were given a completely
free hand and not interfered with.

They proposed to have no sentries, no “isolated area” to proclaim
trumpet-tongued, “Here is a secret!”

They desired merely to propound a satisfactory system of lies, to give
an “alternative explanation”--to put it more delicately--and to carry
out their work with a disarming publicity.

After some hesitation the authorities consented to this strange system.
We shall see how, on September 15, “wisdom was justified of her
children.”

The factory where these curious interviews are reported to have
taken place was that of Messrs. Forsters, Agricultural Implement
Manufacturers of Lincoln. We almost literally beat our ploughshares
into swords.

In London, changes in Tank administration were going on as usual. The
trend as far as supply and manufacture were concerned was towards
centralisation.

A Tank Supply Department was created at the Ministry of Munitions, and
the Tank Supply Committee changed its name to “Advisory Committee of
the Tank Supply Department.” In August this Committee--gradually, as
it were--turned into the Mechanical Warfare Supply Department before
alluded to. Lieutenant (by now Colonel Stern was at its head.)

In the M.W.S.D. were now concentrated three separate functions:

They were Tank designers; they were responsible for supply; they were
responsible for the final inspection of machines. The future was to
show that such concentration had some drawbacks as well as many obvious
advantages.

_Note._--The genesis of the “large-wheeled tractor” was as follows:
Trenches with a parados and parapet about 4 ft. high were being
constructed by the enemy in Flanders.

The engineers consulted by the Land Ship Committee gave it as their
considered opinion that if these obstacles were to be crossed, a wheel
of not less than 15 ft. diameter would be necessary.

Machines with these gigantic wheels were actually ordered, but the
wooden model that was knocked together as a preliminary at once
convinced even its best friends that the design was fantastic, and that
any machine of the kind would be little better than useless on account
of its conspicuousness and vulnerability.

However, the “big wheel” idea did not utterly die, for in the upturned
snout of the Mark I. Tank we have, as it were, its “toe” preserved,
the track turning sharply back at about axle level, instead of mounting
uselessly skyward, as would have been the case had not the old wheel
idea been supplanted by that of the sliding track.




CHAPTER III

THE TANK CORPS IN EMBRYO


PART I


I

Not till Act III. do we get the opening of the main plot of our drama.
For it was only at the end of March, 1916 that recruiting for the new
arm began, and therefore that “The Fighting Side” first appeared.

  [5]“At the end of March certain officer cadets with engineering
  experience and drawn from the 18th, 19th, and 21st Royal Fusiliers,
  were asked to volunteer their services for what they were given to
  understand was an experimental armoured car unit. (The Armoured Car
  Section of the Motor Machine Gun Corps.)

  “Those who decided to throw in their lot with the new Service
  were interviewed by Colonel Swinton and Colonel Bradley, who, in
  the course of their examination, threw out no hints as to further
  details relative to the new unit. Results of these interviews were
  communicated on the Thursday before Easter Friday, when successful
  volunteers were informed that they were to be granted temporary
  commissions in the M.M.G.C., and were despatched the same morning
  to report to the M.M.G.C. Headquarters at Bisley. Upon arrival
  further information was received from the Adjutant that short
  leave would be granted for the purpose of obtaining kit, and that
  all officers would report their return with kit, on the following
  Tuesday evening.

  “During the week that followed Easter the two first selected
  Companies, _i.e._, ‘K’ and ‘L,’ were formed, officers being posted
  to one or other of the Companies.”

Specially selected officers and men of the original M.M.G.C. formed
the nucleus of these Companies, and the Companies were formed into a
Battalion as further reinforcements arrived. On the Monday after Easter
Bank Holiday training began, instructions being given in the use of
the Vickers and Hotchkiss .303 Machine Guns and later in the Hotchkiss
6-pounder Naval gun.

An officer who arrived in about the second batch tells how he and
another man from the same regiment were sent down to Bisley after the
usual brief but formidable interview with Colonel Swinton. They arrived
at Brookwood Station only to be told that the ever mysterious Motor
Machine Gun Corps had left two days before for Siberia.

Tableau!

“Siberia” proved, however, to be a camp not so far from Bisley as to be
beyond the radius of the station cab in which they both presently set
off.

No Tanks were, of course, yet available for training, and therefore
instruction was concentrated upon the use of the three guns, “each
officer, N.C.O. and man being required to pass out at the examination.”

  [6]“With the above exception, physical drill and an occasional
  route march, no further training of military character was imposed;
  thus in the early summer of 1916 practically all the personnel of
  the new branch of the service were efficient in the manipulation
  of the three guns in question. During the whole of the foregoing
  period no further information other than widely different rumours
  could be obtained by the junior personnel of the Unit as to the
  purposes for which they, or the experimental armoured car, would be
  used.”

About June it became increasingly evident that if the Land Cruisers
were to be fought that year, production must be accelerated.

  “A very limited number of officers, N.C.O.’s and men, totalling
  about one dozen, were despatched to Lincoln and other centres,
  where they were employed in connection with what they later
  understood to be Tank production.”

Meanwhile, a very carefully chosen and elaborately prepared training
area had been organised on Lord Iveagh’s estate near Thetford, and
as soon as information came that the first machines would soon be
available for training, the Battalion was again moved.

This time the still mystified companies found themselves in a camp
more ringed about than was the palace of the Sleeping Beauty, and
more zealously guarded than the Paradise of a Shah. Three rows of
plantations and shelter belts guarded them from the eyes of the
profane, and the intruder or the breaker of camp must pass six lines of
sentries assisted by cavalry patrols.

A highroad which ran through the training ground was closed, and all
inhabited farms within the area were evacuated. No civilians were
allowed under any pretext to pass the guard, nor were troops allowed to
leave the area except on production of special passes which were very
difficult to get.

Once an aeroplane from a neighbouring aerodrome flew over, moved by a
friendly spirit of inquiry. It was immediately greeted with a hail of
machine-gun bullets and was obliged to depart in some haste.

For now the Tanks had to appear in their true character as fighting
machines, and needed a better screen than Russian Fairy Tales. The
machines had been long expected. Almost daily some one in the camp had
“heard” an unfamiliar engine throb, and when this happened the entire
camp would rush out to see if “they” had come.

The wildest rumours were afoot.

The car could climb trees! It could swim! It could jump like a flea!

Any one who has lived in an ordinary camp where there were no secrets
and remembers what rumours flourished on the most ethereal food, can
imagine their growth in a camp where there was a real mystery.

But at last, towards the beginning of June, a limited number of Mark I.
machines were detrained at a special railhead within the area.[7] The
training of the Battalion now began in earnest. Machines and men were
destined to be launched in little over six weeks’ time into the then
newly begun Somme offensive.

Two types of Tank were detrained, “Big Willie” and “Little Willie.”
The Mark I. (Big Willie) was very different from the Mark V. machine
described in Chapter I.

It took four men to drive it. It had an unwieldly two-wheeled tail, or
to give this appendage its official name, a “Hydraulic Stabiliser.” By
this device it could let itself down gently over a drop of over 5 ft.,
and partly with the aid of it, the machine was steered.

In practice, compared with the handy Mark V., the whole steering
arrangement of the Mark I. was extraordinarily clumsy and laborious.
She would not turn sharply at all on rough ground, and had to be coaxed
to any change of direction. Her engine and tracks also needed constant
adjustment, the rollers being an everlasting source of trouble. Drivers
and mechanics who have handled both machines, seem to regard the
running of a Mark V. as child’s-play after struggling with the caprices
of “Mother.”

“Little Willie” was used only as a training Tank, as in practice he was
found to have a defective balance. His centre of gravity was misplaced,
and he was, besides, too short for the work of crossing trenches.


II

But there were other than technical problems awaiting solution.

It would be difficult to over-estimate the difficulties which
confronted those officers who were responsible for the preliminary
training of the Heavy Section of the Machine Gun Corps; no one had
ever actually fought inside a Tank, and it was, therefore, upon the
spirit of prophecy alone that they must rely in their preparations.
There was no manual to help them. They had, however, one very excellent
official document, the secret _Notes on the Employment of Tanks_, which
was issued in February 1916 (signed “E. D. S.”[8]), which gave an
extraordinarily good forecast of what the rôle of Tanks would probably
be when in action.

But the paper was very short and very objective, and was more concerned
with an analysis of the place of the Tanks in the orchestra of battle
than with the difficulties presented by their individual score.

This was where the training of the first Tank crew fell short--almost
inevitably. Their teachers had a rather hazy mental picture of the
actuality of battle. They did not squarely face the essential question
upon whose answer all specific training and all specific preparation
depend, the question, that is, “What is it going to be like?”

Thus, though they did teach most of the essentials, they left out half
a dozen subjects of which an accurate knowledge was, as we shall see,
ever afterwards held to be absolutely necessary.

One of their difficulties was the shortness of the time. What must the
crews know? Would physical fitness or map reading prove more important
when the day came? Signalling or _esprit de corps_? Visual training or
revolver drill? There was no time for everything. There were, however,
obviously three or four essentials. Most of the officers and men were
already first-rate engineers or mechanics, but they must be trained
exactly in the strange machine they were to use. They must understand
the peculiarities of Tanks, and, if possible, of their individual Tank,
the monster which they had to render animate.

They must be thoroughly at home with their Vickers guns, be accurate
shots with them, be able to remedy all stoppages, and to strip their
weapons with speed and accuracy. Above all, crews must train together,
be accustomed to work under their officer, each with his special work
as brakeman, gearsman, driver or gunner, but each still part of an
organic whole. They must also attain to a certain physical level, must
undergo some visual training, and must know how to fire a revolver.

All this and more was achieved, for the men were picked individuals of
more than ordinary intelligence, and soon became extraordinarily keen
on their work.

  [9]“If anything went wrong with the Tank, they used to look upon
  it not as a bore but as a pleasure to put it right.... We felt a
  terrific pride in our Company and Section, and also as a Tank crew
  against other crews. There was always healthy competition, and this
  competition carried us right out to France.... Besides that, Tank
  Commanders had the very great advantage of training their crews
  themselves.... We knew our men thoroughly.”

But, as another Tank Commander wrote afterwards:

  “The first Company to go out had to work at tremendous speed. The
  Tanks did not arrive till the last minute, and I and my crew did
  not have a Tank of our own the whole time we were in England ...
  as our Tank went wrong the day it arrived.... Again we had no
  reconnaissance or map reading ... no practices or lectures on the
  compass.... We had no signalling ... and no practice in considering
  orders. This was a thing I very much missed when I got out to
  France. When you work with a Division you get very long orders,
  and you have to analyse these orders to discover what concerns you
  and what does not.... We had no knowledge of where to look for
  information that would be necessary for us as Tank Commanders, nor
  did we know what information we should be likely to require.”

No one, in short, had sat down to imagine a Tank in action from within.

We had official painters in France, but alas! we had no official
writers of prophetic fiction.

The history of the attack on Morval shows that this probably inevitable
lack of, say, an official clairvoyant, this dependence upon methods
of trial and error, though it ultimately did little to hurt the
development of Tanks, did very much to prevent the Tank personnel from
feeling satisfied by their début.


PART II


I

It must have been with some sense of having taken a momentous step
that the authorities sanctioned the manufacture of 150 Tanks after
witnessing the trials at Hatfield.

We were short of men and short of steel, and to divert steel from
shells and men from the infantry was a grave decision. Our rulers were
for a moment, perhaps, granted the gift of prevision. They saw that the
new weapon might prove the sword that was ultimately to tip the level
balance, and to break the intolerable equilibrium which had settled on
the line from the Alps to the sea.

This prophetic mood did fitfully visit the authorities.

For a few months they would, as it were, have faith, and personnel
would be granted and machines would be ordered.

Then perhaps for half a precious year they would relapse and backslide
and revert, till Colonel Swinton, the Fighting Side, and all the other
missionaries and preachers of the Tank Corps almost despaired.

But in February 1916 there was much to uphold them. The situation
demanded some desperate remedy.

The balance hung deadly level. We could hold the Germans _now_, but for
how long? The race for the coast had been a draw, and the First Battle
of Ypres had ended open warfare on the Western Front.

  [10]“Quick-firing field guns and the machine-guns used defensively,
  proved too strong for the endurance of the attackers, who were
  forced to seek safety by means of their spades rather than through
  their rifles. Whole fronts were entrenched, and, except for a few
  small breaks, a man could have walked by trench, had he wished to,
  from Nieuport almost into Switzerland.”

The Germans were dug in.

  [11]“And with the trench came wire entanglements--the horror of the
  attack--and the trinity of trench, machine-gun, and wire made the
  defence so strong that each offensive operation was brought to a
  standstill.

  “The problem which then confronted us was a two-fold one:

  “Firstly, how could the soldier in the attack be protected against
  shrapnel, shell-splinters and bullets? Helmets were reintroduced,
  armour was tried, shields were invented, but all to no great
  purpose.

  “Secondly, even if bullet-proof armour could be invented, which
  it certainly could, how were men laden down with it going to get
  through the wire entanglements which protected every position?”

It was, in fact, impossible for infantry alone to attack such positions
without the most extensive artillery preparation. The enemy and his
trenches and his wire must be blown out of the ground. This was the
accepted answer to the problem of the deadlock. But as yet we had not
got the shells. We were straining every nerve to reach the solution
by bombardment, but in February 1916 we had not got the necessary
ammunition. Was there no other answer to the problem? Nothing that
could be done meanwhile?

This was the mood in which the missionaries of the “mobile machine-gun
destroyer” found the High Command. Had we had shells in February 1916
we should not have had the Tank. We must have waited another year
for it, till, in fact, we had found out the defects of the hoped-for
solution by bombardment.

The German, who was full fed with ammunition, felt at this early date
no urging to go out and seek any such fantastic remedy. His High
Command would have laughed at the idea of Tanks as Dives may have
laughed at hungry Lazarus’ antics over broken victuals.


II

So, while our shells were making, we built Tanks. And Fate, whose taste
in humour is not ours, and who knew what we did not, namely, that the
Tank and prolonged artillery preparation are alternative weapons,
decreed that both shells and Tanks should be ready for the Somme
offensive.

It was thus upon a “substructure” of the new artillery preparation that
we gaily imposed the Tank. We were to take fourteen months in working
out the proposition that they could never be effectively used together.

The Tanks had been designed for the sort of conditions which had
prevailed at Loos. Their training grounds had been carefully modelled
on the “Loos” pattern. By the time Tanks could be put into the field, a
year later, our artillery superiority had completely changed the nature
of the fighting.

At Beaumont-Hamel in November 1916, for example, we fired off as much
ammunition as was expended in three weeks at the Battle of Loos.

On the Somme--owing to our having advanced--four miles of churned-up,
shell-pitted ground had to be crossed before the front line could be
reached. It had also--to state the case after the manner of the author
of _Erewhon_--become the fashion, just before the day of battle, for
the attacking side to blast the ground which they were about to cross
to the condition of plum pudding on stir-up Sunday. This blasting
process, moreover, necessarily gave the enemy several days’ warning of
any proposed attack.

It had also incidentally had another effect upon the industrious
German. When we were bombarded our chief idea was retaliation; when the
German was shelled he dug.

So it had come about that on the Somme, everywhere behind the German
lines, were great electrically-lit and comfortably warmed dug-outs,
where a company or so could lie secure thirty or forty feet below
ground and there wait for the bombardment to “blow over.” Then they
would emerge ready to welcome our infantry. Thus the system of the,
say, six days’ artillery preparation, though it did very much to
raise our _moral_ and depress that of the enemy in time resulted in
an almost complete system of enemy counter-measures, and in a state
of the battle-ground which caused attackers and attacked to be almost
immobile. The system, necessary as had been our adoption of it, had not
solved the problem of the deadlock.

The Tank, as we have said, had been intended for use on reasonably
sound ground. It was also to be a surprise weapon. Not once for the
next fourteen months did we omit to give the enemy at least five days’
notice of our proposed attacks, nor did we decline to co-operate with
his artillery in reducing the intended battle-ground to a morass. It
was, therefore, not till the First Battle of Cambrai, when we did adopt
other tactics, that Tanks came by their own.




CHAPTER IV

THE FIRST TANK BATTLES--THE ATTACK ON MORVAL, FLERS, THE QUADRILATERAL,
THIEPVAL AND BEAUMONT-HAMEL


I

It was not till the Somme offensive, which was launched on July 1,
1916, had been in progress for two months and a half, that it was found
possible for the new arm to take its place in the fighting. We have
seen how, secretly, urgently, behind a rich curtain of ingenious and
circumstantial lies, the manufacture of the Tanks had been going on.
How, secretly, urgently, the crews had been training for their unknown
job.

Of the fifty Tanks which were destined to take part in the battle of
September 15, about thirteen left England on August 15, and the rest
followed at intervals and in driblets as the limited transport allowed.
The last batch arrived on August 30 and, like its fellows, proceeded
to the training centre at Yvrench. Here trenches had been dug and wire
entanglements erected, and machine-gun and 6-pounder practice could be
carried out after a fashion. But there was no staff of instructors, the
ranges were too short, and the conditions for battle practice quite
unlike those which prevailed on the Somme. But it had to suffice. The
Tanks were wanted at once, and by September 10 “C” and “D” Companies
had arrived in the forward area, their H.Q. being established at the
Loop. It was thus within a week of their arrival forward that Tanks
were called upon to take part in the attack.

The battle had now been in progress for nearly ten weeks. We had
advanced and occupied a depth of four miles of devastated country.

Most of the men and many of the officers had not been to France before.
They found themselves in a strange world. Endless lines of transport
crawled over incredibly bad roads bordered by gaunt stumps of trees and
by a sordid and tragic litter of dead men and horses, rags, tin cans,
rotting equipment, and derelict transport.

The enemy was counter-attacking over the whole of the thirty-mile
front, and the sound of our guns was everywhere. At night the stream of
lorries never ceased, and at some point or other in our line, far away,
a star shell could always be seen sailing up from behind a rise of
ground, giving some fringe of shattered wood, or ruined sugar factory,
a fleeting silhouette against its cold white light.

All ranks were desperately busy, from the mechanics who had new spare
engine parts to adjust, to those in command who had their own minds
and those of several Major-Generals to make up. Colonel Brough had
commanded when the Tanks disembarked, but had now handed over to
Colonel Bradley, and he and the Army Corps, and Divisional Commanders
with whom he conferred on the 13th seem, perhaps inevitably, to
have been as uncertain how to wield the new weapon as were the Tank
Commanders of such details as how to fit their new camouflage covers or
anti-bombing nets.

In an advance when ought a Tank to start? If it started too soon it
would draw the enemy barrage; if it started too late the infantry would
reach the first objective before it, and it would be of no use.

This and other similar dilemmas darkened their counsels, and it was
finally decided that the Tanks’ start should be so timed that they
reached the first objective five minutes before the infantry, and,
further that Tanks should be used in twos and threes against strong
points. No special or detailed reconnaissance work had been done, and a
somewhat indigestible mass of aerial photographs was presented by the
Divisional Staff to the bewildered Tank Commanders, many of whom had
never seen such things before.[12]

Much more useful were a series of maps with routes marked out and
annotated with the necessary compass bearings, and a detailed
time-table with full barrage and other particulars. At least they would
have been more useful had not all orders been changed in such a way at
the last moment as to invalidate almost every route and hour which they
showed.

Meanwhile the Tank crews and commanders had been enjoying three or four
days of almost comically complete nightmare. In the first place, they
had all manner of mechanical preoccupations--newly arrived spare engine
parts to test, new guns to adjust, box respirators to struggle with,
and an astounding amount of “battle luggage” to stow away. But worst
of all, they found themselves regarded as the star variety-turn of the
Western Front.

Already, before leaving Thetford, they had given a demonstration before
the King and several members of the Cabinet. At Yvrench they had
performed before General Joffre, Sir Douglas Haig, and the greater part
of the G.H.Q. Staffs,[13] but on reaching the Loop they found to their
horror that it was to be “Roses, roses, all the way.” A Tank Commander
wrote bitterly:

  “It rather reminded me of Hampstead Heath. When we got there we
  found that the Infantry Brigades had been notified that the Tanks
  were to perform daily from 9 to 10 and from 2 to 3, and every
  officer within a large radius and an enormous number of the Staff
  came to inspect us. We were an object of interest to every one.
  This did not help on one’s work.”

On the 13th they were to move the Loop to the point of assembly, and
the problems of “housekeeping” became acute.

  [14]“The officer and each man carried two gas helmets and one pair
  of goggles, and in addition to their ordinary service caps, a
  leather ‘anti-bruise’ helmet; we also had a large field dressing
  as well as an ordinary first-aid dressing. The usual equipment
  consisted of revolver, haversack, water-bottles and iron rations.
  There are eight people in a Tank, and as soon as they get in they
  naturally take off all these things, which lie about on the floor,
  unless you devise some method of packing all your equipment....
  We carried, in addition to iron rations, sixteen loaves and about
  thirty tins of food, cheese, tea, sugar and milk. These took up
  a lot of room. We also had one spare drum of engine oil and one
  of gear oil, two small drums of grease, three water-cans and two
  boxes of revolver ammunition ... four spare Vickers barrels,
  one spare Vickers gun, a spare barrel for the Hotchkiss and two
  wire-cutters. We also had three flags for signalling purposes,
  which unfortunately proved to have been lost when they were really
  wanted.”

But Captain Henriques’ list was, even so, not complete. Many Tanks also
carried two carrier pigeons, 33,000 rounds of S.A. ammunition for
their machine-guns, a lamp-signalling set, and a telephonic contrivance
consisting of an instrument and one hundred yards of cable wound upon a
drum. The second instrument was to be left at the “jumping-off place,”
and the Tank was to unwind the cable as it advanced, relating its
experiences the while to the telephone operator or other interested
person in the rear. What was to happen when the Tank began to traverse
the hundred and first yard we do not know. In practice the device was
not used.

But that was not all. The orders, time-tables and maps upon which the
Tank Commanders depended, proved to have been issued in insufficient
quantities.

  “For every three Tanks only one set of orders had been issued, and
  only one map supplied: consequently we had to grasp these orders
  before we passed them on to the other two officers.”

However, at 5 p.m. on the day before the battle, these written orders
were cancelled and new verbal instructions substituted. Roughly, the
Tanks were to operate as follows:--

_On the right_ with the 14th Corps, ten Tanks were to work with the
Guards Division, and seven with the 6th and 56th Divisions, their
objectives being Ginchy and the Quadrilateral.

_On the left_ eight Tanks were allotted to the 3rd Corps, operating
through High Wood and East of Martinpuich. The 15th Corps had seventeen
Tanks attached, and the Reserve (5th) Army--fighting between Pozières
and Martinpuich--had six tanks.

With all these groups of Tanks the preliminary moving up into the
first-line positions--in the pitch dark, through the mud and in and out
of the shell-holes of badly crumped ground--proved most arduous, and
a good many Tanks broke down in the process. One Tank Commander who
struck a narrow sunken road remarks:

  “It was full of the bodies of dead Boches, and my driver did not
  like going along it.”

For the Tanks’ crews the remainder of the night passed in a final
tightening of loose tracks and adjustment of the engines, and in
listening to the steadily increasing crash and roar of the British
bombardment.

The strain on men and officers had been tremendous. Most of them seem
to have started the battle having had no sleep for over twenty-four
hours.

They were desperately anxious, too, that Tanks should prove their
worth, and the Mark I. machine was too capricious to give them much
assurance.

To this list of discomforts must be added that most of the men had
never heard guns before, and that the lying-up places were close to our
batteries.


II

The morning of the 15th was fine with a thin ground mist, and at six
o’clock the thunder of the British artillery rose to a final hurricane.
The barrage crept forward, and our Tanks and infantry crossed the
parapets.

The Germans seemed to have heard no breath of the nature of the new arm
which was to be used against them, and the light haze added greatly to
the looming mystery of the approaching Tanks.

Official documents that were later on captured from the enemy revealed
something of the deep psychological effect that our Tanks had had on
the German infantry. These significant admissions might have done more
to convince our own High Command of the great potentialities of the
new weapon than they actually did.

One of the best known individual Tank exploits was that of the machine
belonging to “C” Company, which helped a New Zealand and an English
division in their assault upon Flers.

This was the furthest penetration achieved by any Tank that day.

This machine led its infantry, and these had their first taste of
entering a village which they knew bristled with enemy machine-guns
without suffering a single casualty.

The adventure had all the exhilaration of surprise, and the men, who
had nerved themselves for the usual ordeal of house-to-house fighting,
laughed at the astonishing anticlimax presented by their own and the
Tanks’ stately progress down an almost empty street.

“All dressed up and no one to fight.”

It was on this occasion that the airmen’s now famous message was sent
back, a message whose repetition rather galled the Tank Corps in the
days of ill-rewarded effort that still lay between it and its final
triumphs:

  “A Tank is walking up the High Street of Flers with the British
  Army cheering behind.”

Of two other Tanks which did particularly well, the first, a male,
entered Gueudecourt, where it attacked a German Battery and destroyed a
field gun; the other gave great assistance to attacking infantry which
was held up by wire and machine-guns. The Tank Commander placed his
machine astride the trench and enfiladed it; the Tank then travelled
along behind the trench and 300 Germans surrendered and were taken
prisoners.

The following is a short summary of the returns of Tanks engaged.

The casualties among Tank personnel were insignificant, though one
officer of great promise was lost:

    49 Tanks were employed.

    32 reached their starting-points.

     9 pushed ahead of the infantry and caused considerable loss
          to the enemy.

     9 others did not catch up the infantry but did good work in
          “clearing up.”

     5 became ditched.

     9 broke down from mechanical trouble.

Of these last fourteen, some served as useful rallying-points for the
infantry after they had become immobile, and several could have been
extricated in time to render some service if they had not been knocked
out by indirect hits.

Crews who had been obliged to abandon their Tanks either got out their
machine-guns and continued fighting or helped the wounded.


III

The battle had been essentially experimental. What opinion had been
formed of the Tanks?

We now know what was the opinion of the German infantry. The German
High Command seems in public to have ignored the new arm.

In a secret “Instruction” the Chief of the Staff of the 3rd Army Group,
however, reminds units that they must “hold ground at whatever cost”
and “defend every inch of ground to the last man.”

“The enemy in the latest fighting have employed new engines of war as
cruel as effective.”

[Illustration: THE ORIGINAL THIEPVAL MARK I. TANK WITH ANTI-BOMB ROOF
AND “TAIL”]

[Illustration: FIELD CAMOUFLAGE]

Every possible counter-measure is to be used against these “monstrous
engines,” which will probably be adopted on an extensive scale by the
British.

To our own infantry the Tank appeared as a lusty friend, who had
at last found a convenient way of dealing with the hitherto deadly
partnership of wire and machine-gun--a friend, too, who had a
grotesqueness of gait and appearance which was intrinsically endearing.

A wounded London Territorial said:

  “‘Old Mother Hubbard’ they called her and lots of other funny names
  as well. She looked like a pantomime animal or a walking ship with
  iron sides moving along, very slow, apparently all on her own, and
  with none of her crew visible. There she was, groanin’ and gruntin’
  along, pokin’ her nose here and there, stopping now and then as if
  she was not sure of the road, and then going on--very slow, but
  over everything.

  “It was her slowness that scared us as much as anything, and the
  way she shook her wicked old head and stopped to cough. It _was_
  a circus--my word! I only saw her for about ten minutes. She came
  humping out of the fog at one end of the line and humped into it
  again at the other. The last I saw of her was when she was nosing
  down a shell crater like a great big hippopotamus with a crowd of
  Tommies cheering behind.”

To the British High Command the Tanks appeared as engines of war
which showed considerable promise. They must overcome certain
mechanical weaknesses, and tactics must be further modified to suit
their peculiarities. The G.H.Q. attitude was, in short, that of men
satisfied, though not enthusiastic, and was well expressed by Sir
Douglas Haig in his Somme Despatch:

  “Our new heavily armoured cars, known as ‘Tanks,’ now brought into
  action for the first time, successfully co-operated with the
  infantry, and coming as a surprise to the enemy rank and file, gave
  valuable help in breaking down their resistance.”

The despatch goes on to mention the taking of Flers.

The delight of the British and French Press knew no bounds. The
correspondents threw up their hats and set to ransack their
dictionaries for octosyllables in which to describe the new “All
British” destroyer of Germans.

It was “Diplodocus Galumphant,” it was a “Polychromatic Toad.” It was
a “flat-footed monster” which “performed the most astonishing feats of
agility as it advanced, spouting flames from every side.”

“It ‘leant’ against a wall until it fell and then crawled over the
fallen débris.

“It went irresistibly through High Wood, the trees smashing like
matchwood before it.

“It went up to machine-gun emplacements, ‘crushed the gun under its
ribs,’ and passed on, spitting death at the demoralised Germans.

“It ‘stamped’ down a dug-out as though it were a wasps’ nest.

“It crashed through broken barns and houses, ‘straddled’ a dug-out and
fired enfilading shot down German trenches.

“It put a battery and a half of guns out of action at Flers.”

Reuter added a cow-catcher to its equipment.

The French Press was enthusiastic:

  “At the precise moment when the bombardment stopped, the Germans
  had the surprise of seeing advance in front of the waves of
  assaulting troops, enormous steel monsters from which spurted a
  continuous fire of great violence. One would have described them
  as gigantic infernal machines. Their front, which was shaped like
  a ram, smashed down every obstacle. The heavy automobiles bounded
  across the overturned and uneven ground, breaking through the
  barbed wire and jumping the trenches. In the German ranks there was
  a really mad terror. A prey to panic, the soldiers of the German
  Emperor fell back in haste, abandoning their arms, ammunition and
  equipment.”

And how did the Tank personnel itself view the events of the day?

Half choked with the engine fumes, boxed up for many hours without
respite in the intolerable clamour and shaking of their machines,
or, worse, having wrestled for hours under heavy shelling with a
broken-down Tank, they were inclined to see the exasperations of the
battle rather than its successes. It is indeed curious to note the
difference in tone between the accounts of those who saw the Tanks
dispassionately from without and those who had weltered within, between
those who saw what the Tanks did and those whose view of achievement
was obscured by a knowledge of what might have been.

The Tank Corps was too keen to be in the least satisfied by the measure
of success which it had achieved.

Only the Press and the Germans perceived that a new “Excalibur” had
been forged in England. “Out of the mouths....”


IV

After the battle, such of the Tanks as could go under their own power
rallied, and steps were at once taken to salve as many as possible of
those which had become incapacitated.

From this point, till all available Tanks had been used up and till
the ground became finally impossible in mid-November, Tanks were to
be constantly employed in insignificant numbers in a series of small
experimental actions.

This method of fighting by twos and threes against special strong
points was afterwards discarded, as it proved unsatisfactory. Several
of these small actions were nevertheless very successful, and showed in
miniature some special purpose which Tanks could serve, or illustrated
the importance of some special Tank organisation.

For example, Thiepval showed how Tanks could be used without artillery
preparation, and Beaumont-Hamel showed the importance of a good
Reconnaissance Branch. These small actions were therefore important,
not in themselves, but because they were microcosms. In one or two
unsuccessful actions it was rather the state of the ground which
spoiled the battle than mistaken tactics.

For as the campaign drew on conditions became worse and worse. By the
beginning of October the Army in general, and particularly the Tanks,
had a foretaste of the miseries of Flanders. The general conditions of
this part of the campaign are admirably described by Colonel Buchan in
his _History of the War_:

  “October was one long succession of tempestuous gales and drenching
  rains.

  “To understand the difficulties which untoward weather imposed on
  the Allied advance, it is necessary to grasp the nature of the
  fifty square miles of tortured ground which three months’ fighting
  had given them, and over which lay the communications between their
  fighting line and the rear.... Not the biggest mining camp or
  the vastest engineering undertaking had ever produced one tithe
  of the activity which existed behind each section of the battle
  line. There were places like Crewe, places like the outskirts of
  Birmingham, places like Aldershot or Salisbury Plain....

  “There were now two No Man’s Lands. One was between the front
  lines; the other lay between the old enemy front and the front we
  had won. The second was the bigger problem, for across it must be
  brought the supplies of a great army....

  “The problem was hard enough in fine weather; but let the rain come
  and soak the churned-up soil, and the whole land became a morass.
  There was no _pavé_, as in Flanders, to make a firm causeway. Every
  road became a water-course, and in the hollows the mud was as deep
  as a man’s thighs....

  “The expected fine weather of October did not come. On the
  contrary, the month provided a record in wet, spells of drenching
  rain being varied by dull, misty days, so that the sodden land
  had no chance of drying. The carrying of the lower spurs--meant
  as a preliminary step to a general attack--proved an operation so
  full of difficulties that it occupied all our efforts during the
  month, and with it all was not completed. The story of these weeks
  is one of minor operations, local actions with strictly limited
  objectives undertaken by only a few battalions. In the face of
  every conceivable difficulty we moved gradually up the intervening
  slopes.”

Such was the setting of this batch of experimental actions. The
first of them took place on September 25, when two small parties of
Tanks were employed in two distinct actions; the first with the 3rd
Corps, and the second on September 25 and 26 with the 15th Corps near
Gueudecourt.

The first was a failure. Only two Tanks had been allotted; one was
ditched on the way to the starting-point, and the other machine was
caught in the enemy barrage and knocked out.

Very different is the story of the Tanks operating with the 15th Corps
at Gird Trench near Gueudecourt, when with the help of a low-flying
aeroplane 1500 yards of trench and 370 prisoners were taken by one Tank
at a cost to us of five casualties.

The story is told in the Somme Despatch:

  “In the early morning a Tank started down the portion of the trench
  held by the enemy from the north-west, firing its machine-guns and
  followed by bombers. The enemy could not escape, as we held the
  trench at its southern end. At the same time an aeroplane flew
  down the length of the trench, also firing a machine-gun at the
  enemy holding it. These then waved white handkerchiefs in token
  of surrender, and when this was reported by the aeroplane the
  infantry accepted the surrender of the garrison. By 8.30 a.m. the
  whole trench had been cleared, great numbers of the enemy had been
  killed, and eight officers and 362 other ranks made prisoners. Our
  total casualties amounted to five.”

At noon on September 26 an attack was launched by General Gough’s
reserve army on Thiepval. Eight Tanks co-operated.

It was the second attack that we had made on Thiepval, of which
the Germans had made a most formidable fortress. The ground had
been blasted into the familiar alternation of crumbling mounds
and water-logged holes, and the shattered houses and splintered
trees--particularly a certain row of apple trees--stood up forlornly
amid the general desolation.

From the point of view of the Tanks, however, the action was important,
because here for the first time Tanks were employed in a surprise
attack.

No artillery preparation was used, and

  “our men were over the German parapets and into the dug-outs before
  machine-guns could be got up to repel them.”

A large number of prisoners were taken, and in the Somme Despatch the
attack was noted as “highly successful,” and the Tanks as having given
“valuable assistance.”

By the middle of October 1916 when Tanks were next in action, the
ground was hopelessly sodden, and the story of the month which ensued
might, with an alteration of place names, be taken for a narrative of
the campaign in Flanders. Than this there is no greater condemnation.

It would be tedious to particularise the five or six minor actions in
which Tanks played, or more often endeavoured to play, a part between
October 17 and November 18. Excepting in the interesting little action
which took place at Beaumont-Hamel, to which we have alluded before, no
further light was to be thrown upon the uses and capabilities of the
new arm.

The following account of the Beaumont-Hamel fighting was given to the
authors by a Tank Officer who was present:

  “At the end of September it became clear that the Somme battle was
  fizzling out. The ratio of ‘cost’ to ‘results’ became more and more
  unsatisfactory; every advance, too, made the devastated and almost
  roadless area an ever greater problem.

  “It was decided that an attack, if possible a surprise attack,
  should be launched on the flank of the Somme battle. The position
  selected was roughly from about Serre to the high ground some half
  a mile south of the river Ancre. This sector had, of course, been
  attacked at the beginning of the Somme battle in July, but the
  attack had been a complete failure, and this front had relapsed
  into comparative quiet.

  “Tanks were collected and again entrained, the new detraining
  station being Acheux. This was the first of the many flank moves
  carried out with Tanks in order that a fresh front might be engaged.

  “On arrival at Acheux, however, at the beginning of October,
  very bad weather set in and the preparations for the attack were
  delayed. Day after day the rain continued, and the ground in the
  battle zone became steadily worse and worse. It was a trying time
  for the officers and men of ‘C’ and ‘D’ Companies, as they were
  not in very good accommodation just outside Acheux, expecting
  daily to move up to battle. It was not until the beginning of
  November, however, that a move was made by night via Beausart to
  Auchonvillers and La Signy Farm. The Tanks having reached these
  lying-up places, the rain came down even faster than before, and a
  study of aeroplane photographs of the proposed battle sector showed
  that all the old shell-holes and many of the old trenches had
  filled up with water, and that the greater part of the front was in
  a hopeless condition for that type of Tank (_i.e._, Mark I.).

  “Just before the day of the Battle, November 13, it was decided
  to send back nearly all the Tanks from La Signy Farm, and some of
  those from Auchonvillers, only a few being held in readiness in
  case the infantry advance should give scope for their use further
  ahead on better ground.

  “Three Tanks of ‘A’ Company were due to attack with the main
  assault on November 13; and one of them succeeded in penetrating
  into the enemy’s position and advancing for some distance along the
  enemy’s support line and nearly reaching the Ancre before it became
  ‘ditched.’

  “Further north the attack had met with considerable success,
  except that the village of Beaumont-Hamel had held out for some
  hours. Tanks had been called upon to assist, and two of them
  had advanced along the road to Beaumont-Hamel; just about the
  time that they reached the village the remainder of the German
  garrison capitulated. Between Beaumont-Hamel and the river Ancre a
  considerable body of Germans were holding out in the enemy front
  and support trenches; although troops of the 63rd Division had
  reached the outskirts of Beaucourt well in the rear of this body
  of men, they continued to hold out throughout the day. Tanks were
  again called upon to deal with this situation. They reached the
  position the next morning, being led up by a trench mortar officer
  of the Division concerned. One Tank succeeded in crossing the very
  large German front trench, but, unfortunately, became stuck soon
  afterwards; the second Tank came to grief just before it reached
  the enemy front trench. It appeared that a deadlock had again been
  reached, and the crews of the Tanks were in a precarious position.
  On examining the ground about them the Officer Commanding the
  leading Tank (which incidentally was leading no longer, since it
  was stuck and all too stationary) noticed that the whole area
  appeared to be shimmering with white. On opening the front flap
  of the Tank and obtaining a better view, it was seen that all
  the German garrison, some 400 in number, appeared to have found
  something white to wave in token of surrender; those who could not
  produce anything better were waving lumps of chalk about or bits
  of board or rifle-stocks which they had rapidly chalked white. The
  situation was rather an embarrassing one for so small a number as
  the crew of Two Tanks to deal with; fortunately, however, it was
  possible by signs, and with the assistance of the infantry, to ‘mop
  up’ these 400 prisoners before they realised that both the Tanks
  were stuck and out of action.

  “Some of the worst of the ground was now in our line, and an effort
  was made to get the Tanks through this bad zone in order that
  they might continue to attack in the neighbourhood of Beaucourt.
  Efforts were made to prepare a track for the Tanks by means of a
  considerable digging party, but when the Tanks reached the very
  broken ground just north of the Ancre, they became one after
  another firmly stuck; with enormous efforts they were dug out, and
  succeeded in getting a few yards further, only to stick again. It
  was heart-breaking work, which would undoubtedly have been rendered
  far easier if the Tanks had then had the unditching beams which
  were only introduced some time later.

  “Finally, on the evening of the 17th, only one Tank had succeeded
  in getting through this bad zone and reaching the comparatively
  good ground beyond. The crew, to whom great credit is due, had
  already been working continuously for some days and night, and
  were not only exhausted, but had had no time to carry out any
  reconnaissance of the position which was to be attacked at dawn the
  next day. There being, however, only one Tank, made it of greater
  importance than ever that it should be made the most of. It was
  decided that it should be used against the very strong position
  known as the Triangle, which was a redoubt on the high ground,
  roughly midway between Beaumont-Hamel and Beaucourt. The ground
  about this redoubt was, unfortunately, also very heavily shelled,
  and a frontal approach with the infantry was impossible, and it was
  necessary for the Tank to go in on the flank while the infantry
  attacked the position frontally. It was realised that the first
  necessity was that the Tank should reach this redoubt as rapidly as
  possible, and during the night a route was taped slightly beyond
  our front line and directing the Tank straight for the Triangle.
  The weather was now much colder, and the frost rendered the ground
  less hopelessly outside the capacity of the Tank.

  “Just before dawn, however, a fresh difficulty arose, and tried
  still further the already severely tried expedition. It began
  to snow, and the white tape which was to guide the Tank was
  obliterated.”

Captain Hotblack (now Major, D.S.O., M.C.), the Reconnaissance Officer
who had done the taping, was the only man who had reconnoitred this
piece of ground, and he immediately volunteered to lead the Tank upon
which so much depended.

Taking what little cover he could in shell-holes full of ice and water,
he walked in front of the Tank past our front line close up to the
Triangle. Marvellously enough, not one among the hail of bullets which
greeted him and the Tank found its mark. Having succeeded in this
arduous enterprise and having guided the machine to its position, he
returned to report on the progress of the action. The light was now
improving, and the Tank started its “rolling up” movement along the
German trenches.

The machine was now so much in the midst of the enemy that the German
artillery did not dare to open upon it, and the Tank poured in a
devastating fire from its machine-guns not only upon the men in the
trenches, but also upon some horse transport behind the enemy lines.

But, meanwhile, the infantry was hung up in another part of the field,
and the Tank was urgently needed.

At that time signal communication to the Tanks was very imperfect,
and there seemed no way of letting the Tank Commander know of the new
development.

Again Major Hotblack came forward and again he crossed the fire-swept
zone undeterred. He reached the Tank and piloted it back behind our
lines, where a renewed attack was planned.

But before the tired crew could be sent out again, the wind changed
and it began to thaw. The ground over which the Tank had passed with
difficulty when it was hard became impassable, and the project was
abandoned.

It was for this remarkable piece of work that Major Hotblack was
awarded his D.S.O.

The incident naturally had far-reaching results. An inspiring deed,
especially if it be one demanding skill as well as courage, will
influence and “set the tone” of a new unit or a new branch of an old
service. It is far more effectual than the most convincing arguments as
to the necessity for a high standard of conduct and of competence. Much
of the subsequent efficiency of the Reconnaissance Branch of the Tank
Corps may be traced to this incident.

Reconnaissance took its proper place, it was recognised as a fighting
service, and its work was seen to be a necessary preliminary to every
action.

Of the total of about ten Tanks engaged in other small actions which
took place at this period, hardly one machine had satisfactory records
to look back upon.

On November 18 ended the Tanks’ first short campaign. If it did not
close in a blaze of glory, at least it had been sufficiently successful
for the authorities to decided not upon doubling but on quadrupling
their establishment.




CHAPTER V

WINTER TRAINING, EXPANSION AND READJUSTMENTS


I

Though plans for expansion and the complete reorganisation of the
unit on a large scale had been begun directly after the results of
the action of September 15 were known, little of the actual work of
training could be started till the end of November, when the “veteran”
Tank personnel were at last available as instructors. They were, as we
have said, withdrawn on November 19 and moved to the Bermicourt area,
which had been already prepared for them.

They were the leaven--less than one “old” Company to each new
Battalion--who must impart their knowledge and experience to the new
men.

A subaltern who had seen any fighting with the Tanks would suddenly
find himself regarded as the greatest living expert on some obscure
technical point, and the newly joined who had never seen a Tank “looked
with awe upon these battle-tried warriors.”

Men and officers were allowed to volunteer for the Tank Corps from
other units either in France or at home. The notion of fighting in a
Tank was popular, for on many of the men of the old arms--especially
the infantry--the ordinary battle routine had--to put it
conservatively--begun to pall.

Therefore, there was no difficulty as to supplies of men whenever the
authorities turned the tap.

  [15]“We came from the infantry, from the cavalry, from the
  artillery, from the Machine Gun Corps, the Motor Machine Gun Corps,
  the Flying Corps, the Army Service Corps, and even from the Navy.”

At first each individual wore the dress of his original unit, so that
there was a strange collection of uniforms at Bermicourt--Scottish
bonnets and kilts, riding breeches, and bandoleers, every conceivable
dress, even to naval blue.

  [15]“The spirit of adventure called us to the Tanks ... and so the
  call for volunteers found us ready, and when the word of acceptance
  came, our hearts beat quickly and our hopes were high ... some
  of us were selected because we were machine-gunners, and others
  because we were motor drivers. But there were many of us to whom
  the machine-gun and the motor were incomprehensible things. But
  in the end we did not find this lack of knowledge any handicap;
  for the Army authorities, who were wiser than we, knew that to
  men of average intelligence these things were easy to learn; and
  to our very great amazement we found that a week was all that was
  necessary thoroughly to master any machine-gun ... and that it only
  took us two weeks to grasp the principle of the internal combustion
  engine and the mechanism of the Tank.”

At Bermicourt and at Wool the deficiencies of the old Thetford training
were realised. The experience gained on the Somme had been assimilated.
Instructors now knew exactly what they must teach, and this time the
spirit of the course of training was definite and businesslike.

The whole scheme was most carefully planned to ensure a proper
balance, and the right amount of time was allotted to the different
courses.

At first the work consisted chiefly in the training of more
instructors, for the expansion of the Corps was to be rapid. The
“settings” of all the courses showed great advances on the Thetford
model, for at last the practice grounds could be made to resemble the
actuality. There were old trenches and shell and mine craters, and the
men were at once taken over bad ground, until the conditions of this
curious progress became things of custom.

  [16]“There is not one of us who will ever forget his first
  ride--the crawling in at the sides, the discovery that the height
  did not permit a man of medium stature to stand erect, the sudden
  starting of the engine, the roar of it all when the throttle
  opened, the jolt forward, and the sliding through the mud that
  followed, until at last we came to the ‘jump’ which had been
  prepared. Then came the downward motion, which suddenly threw us
  off our feet and caused us to stretch trusting hands toward the
  nearest object--usually, at first, a hot pipe through which the
  water from the cylinder jackets flowed to the radiator. So, down
  and down and down, the throttle almost closed, the engine just
  ‘ticking over,’ until at last the bottom was reached, and as the
  power was turned full on, the Tank raised herself to the incline,
  like a ship rising on a wave, and we were all jolted the other way,
  only to clutch again frantically for things which were hot and
  burned, until at last, with a swing over the top, we gained level
  ground. And in that moment we discovered that the trenches and the
  mud and the rain and the shells and the daily curse of bully beef
  had not killed everything within, for there came to us a thrill of
  happiness in that we were to sail over stranger seas than man had
  ever crossed, and set out on a great adventure.”

The necessity of regularising and systematising the Reconnaissance
Branch had not been forgotten, and a separate Reconnaissance
Service--really a specially adapted branch of “Intelligence”--was set
up, under Major Hotblack.

The first organised work of the Branch was to be done in the
preparations for the Battle of Arras, and it is at that period that we
shall see the tentative beginnings of the very special system which was
later on developed.

For the present “Reconnaissance” spent its time lecturing and being
lectured, and in preparing maps or training areas for theoretical or
practical exercises in the new art of Tank warfare.


II

By February 1917, when individual courses came to an end and unit
training began, the H.B.M.G.C. was about 9000 strong.

Warmed by the sun of official approval, and watered with a kindly dew
of Memoranda and official “definitions,” Companies had budded into
Battalions and later Battalions were to burgeon into Brigades.

Even by this early date the authorities had decided that ultimately
three Brigades of three Battalions each should be formed.

Each Battalion was to be equipped with seventy-two machines and to
consist of four fighting sections, a Headquarters Section and a
Battalion Workshop, besides that curious collection of miscellaneous
individuals, tailors, barbers, shoemakers and clerks, which is
necessary in every unit. General Elles was to command in France, and
took over on September 29 with the rank of Colonel. His “charter” was
as follows:

  “The Headquarters in France is to command the Heavy Branch M.G.C.
  in the field, to be responsible for the advanced training and for
  the Tactical employment of the Corps under the command of the
  C.-in-C.”

He was also to have a large Central Depot and Repairing Shop in his
charge.

In England there was to be a Headquarters directly under the War Office
and which was to administer the Corps as a whole. The home Headquarters
was to be responsible for the provision of men, for supplies of
“technical material,” the preliminary training of units, and the
maintenance of units in France as regards men, machines, material and
spare parts.

The experienced reader will perceive in this system of dual control a
very promising sowing of dragon’s teeth.

No one who has had an inside knowledge of the growth of any unit or of
any institution whatsoever during the War will be surprised at the fact
that the Tank Corps did not escape the common lot. It suffered from
growing pains.

Is there a new Ministry, a new Hospital, a new Factory, a new
Battalion, nay, a single new Committee, the tiniest Association of
Allotment Holders, the smallest Village Ladies’ Work Depot, that did
not?

Among such organisations there are but two categories--those who have
the candour to acknowledge that they went through such a period, and
those who still dare not trust themselves to allude to it. Perhaps if
we consider the examples that come within our own experience, we shall
find that the stronger and more vital the new unit, the more capable
and full of character the men who moved it, the more marked was that
initial stage of uncomfortable adolescence.

The settling down, before responsibilities and prerogatives had been
properly paired and allotted to the right individuals. The time
when one department was still irritable from overwork and another
exasperated by not being given enough responsibility. We have all of
us known such a time, and most of us now look back upon its very real
miseries with a kind of mingled wonder and amusement. Not otherwise do
the pioneers of the Tanks look back upon their awkward age.

As soon as the programme of expansion had been decided upon[17]
the question of how Tank production could be increased became an
exceedingly important one. Owing to the inevitable loss in battle, and
still more to the unfortunate defects of the type of the track roller
then supplied, there were not enough Tanks even for the training scheme
proposed for France, where there were in December 1916 only sixteen
machines in working order. The needs of the big training centre which
was setting up at Wool could not at present be met at all, and the
accumulation of any adequate reserve of fighting Tanks was, for the
moment, impossible.

The Mechanical Warfare Supply Department was now responsible for Tank
production, and they had the task of arranging for the building of the
1000 Tanks which had been sanctioned on September 29.

In November the M.W.S. Department made an unofficial forecast of the
probable rate of production. This forecast they confirmed officially on
February 1.

The total output of Tanks was to be roughly as follows:

      1917
    January             50
    February            50
    March              120
    April              120
    May                140
    June               200
    July               240
    August             260
    September          280

Of these, after March at least eighty per month were to be of the Mark
IV. type, of which, with the Mark IV._a_, there was to be a total of
over 1000.

In August or September, a proportion of the output was to be of the
greatly improved Mark V. type. Actually at the end of March only sixty
Tanks could be scraped together for the Battle of Arras, and most of
these were machines that had been repaired after the Somme.

Not a single Mark IV. machine arrived in France until April 22, after
the Battle of Arras had been fought and won, and no Mark V. machines
until March 23, 1918. The entire programme was, in short, many months
late.

The M.W.S.D. were, however, not altogether blameable for the
occasionally somewhat astonishing discrepancy between their promises
and performance.

It is, in fact, related for the defence that even the airy promises
had their purpose--that the very discrepancies which the Fighting
Side viewed aghast were deliberately created by the wily M.W.S.D. as
bogies with which to scare supine manufacturers or reluctant Government
Departments.

“What!” the M.W.S.D. would say. “You can’t do better than that! But
look what we’ve actually promised! And just see what sort of names
our partners the Fighting Side are calling us already! You _must_ do
better.” A duly enraged Fighting Side must have made an unsurpassable
Jorkins.

In any case, however, it was usually only the M.W.S.D.’s promises
which could even be called in question. Considering the means at their
disposal and the difficulties which surrounded them, their practical
efforts were praiseworthy.

Their troubles came chiefly from three sources. Some of the
difficulties from each were inevitable, and some were not.

First there were the physical difficulties of manufacture. The shortage
both of labour and material was acute, and at the period with which
we are now concerned, Tanks came low in the Ministry of Munitions’
priority list. Shells, guns, aeroplanes and even transport lorries all
took precedence of Tanks.

A second difficulty was the habit which the Authorities had of blowing
alternately hot and cold, according as Tanks momentarily did well or
ill in the field. This resulted in a tendency towards a see-saw of
alternate periods of slackness and overwhelming hurry in the factories.

Tradition relates that Sir Albert Stern (the Director-General of the
M.W.S.D.) here played a most useful part. He used his whole influence
to maintain a steady output, acting, in fact, as a kind of stabiliser.

The third set of difficulties came from the M.W.S.D.’s own Tank
designers, and from technical experts of the Fighting Side in France.
Both constantly asked for small alterations in design. Often these
alterations were necessary; frequently they were more or less frivolous
even when they came from what might be considered the best source,
that is, from those who fought the Tanks.

If the M.W.S.D. was sometimes accused of adopting an academic attitude
towards the results of the “acid test” of battle, it may as truly be
said of the Fighting Side that they often underrated the difficulties
and problems of manufacture and failed to appreciate how often quality
could only be obtained by a disproportionate sacrifice of quantity.


III

About the end of December 1916, when the dual control of Tank affairs
had been working for nearly three months, it became obvious that
the system was not one that would easily stand the strain of active
operations. The Tank Corps had outgrown it, and the shoe would soon
begin to pinch. General Elles thus summarised the position in his
report of December 31:

  “_In France._ The fighting organisation is under a junior officer
  who _faute de mieux_ has become responsible for initiating all
  important questions of policy, design, organisation and personnel
  through G.H.Q., France, and thence through five different branches
  at the War Office.

  “_In England._ Administrative and training organisation are under
  a senior officer, located 130 miles from the War Office, with a
  junior Staff Officer (Staff-Captain) in London to deal with the
  five branches above mentioned.

  “The system is working now because Headquarters in France have been
  free from the questions of operations for most of the last six
  weeks, and have, therefore, been in a position to deal imperfectly
  and at a distance with the larger aspects of the whole matter.

  “This will not be possible when operations become a more pressing
  obligation, as they are now doing.

  “Then, this duty must devolve either on the five War Office
  branches, not one of which, I submit with all respect, can have any
  comprehensive grip of the subject, or on the G.O.C., Administrative
  Centre, who is out of continued personal touch either with the
  War Office or the requirements in this country, and is, moreover,
  debarred by his charter from really having any control or direction
  except at the instance of his Junior.

  “In actual fact, the Director-General of Mechanical Warfare Supply,
  an official of the Ministry of Munitions, at the head of a very
  energetic body, becomes the head of the whole organisation. This
  officer, owing to his lack of military knowledge, requires and
  desires guidance, which none of the five departments at the War
  Office can, and which the G.O.C., Administrative Centre, is not in
  a position to, give him.

  “In effect the tail in France is trying to wag a very distant and
  headless dog in England. We have had one check already in the
  matter of the increased weight of Mark IV. which it is possible may
  have serious results as regards transportation.

  “In view of the inevitable expansion and great possibilities
  of this arm of the Service, I wish to urge most strongly that
  a Directorate (however small to begin with) be formed at the
  War Office on the lines of the Directorate of Aeronautics. Its
  functions to be to study possibilities of development, to watch
  design and supply, to co-ordinate training and administer the Corps
  as a whole. The officer in charge to be a senior officer, free to
  travel and empowered to issue definite instructions and decisions
  as to requirements to the Ministry of Munitions.”

As a result of this remonstrance, General Capper was appointed to the
War Office, and the first Tank Committee was set up in the following
May.

This Committee was commissioned “to systematise and strengthen liaison
between the Army and the Ministry of Munitions.”

But when we consider the list of its members we do not find a single
representative of the still drooping “tail.”[18]

However, the appointment of the Committee proved to be a step in the
right direction, and an improvement began to be felt immediately.

Officers of the Tank Corps now took charge of the final running trials
of all Tanks. The M.W.S.D. submitted their designs to the Committee,
and in several other small particulars the control exercised by the
Military side was increased.

But in August the Committee was rent asunder.

A Memorandum was submitted by the two military members, calling
attention to the long and serious delays that were still occurring
in the preparation of new kinds of Tanks, after the execution of the
designs had been approved by the Tank Committee.

The delays, it stated, were largely due to the absence of direct
intercourse between the Committee as a body and the actual designer,
and they recommended that the designer should be _ex officio_ a member
of the Committee.

Sir Albert Stern and Sir Eustace Tennyson d’Eyncourt dissented strongly
from this Memorandum--we are not told upon what grounds--and in October
a new Tank Committee was formed.

At last--upon this new Committee--the “tail” was fully represented, and
the Committee met fortnightly alternately in France and in England,
so keeping in touch with both factors in its work. A satisfactory
organisation seems, in fact, to have been found, and the interests
of all the departments involved in manufacturing and fighting these
complex machines seem at last to have been adequately represented.
After October difficulties appear to have been halved.

But this happier era did not dawn till after the Battle of Arras had
been won, and the long misery of the Flemish campaign had somehow been
endured. Meanwhile, as far as Tank control was concerned, things went
on much as before.

The reader is to imagine that just such “growing pains” and just such
difficulties, correspondences and memoranda filled in the background
for the next six months, while the fighting at Arras, at Messines and
in Flanders, whose story we are about to relate, was in progress.




CHAPTER VI

THE BATTLES OF ARRAS AND BULLECOURT


I

The Reconnaissance Officers were the first of the Junior personnel to
learn that operations were contemplated for early April, and that the
new battle was to be fought before the town of Arras on the banks of
the river Scarpe. By the beginning of March, the first small parties
of Battalion and Company Reconnaissance Officers had begun to leave
Bermicourt.

It was rumoured that this offensive was going to be the blooding of the
1st Brigade; it was to be on a much larger scale than any the Tanks had
taken part in on the Somme. It was said that sixty machines would be
thrown in in one action. The Tanks were going to have an opportunity of
making a name for themselves, and of justifying all the embarrassingly
pleasant things that the newspapers had said of them in the previous
September. For this lavish praise had spread a gloom over the Tank
Corps; they had been unmercifully twitted by unfeeling gunners and
infantrymen who knew the real facts.

The newspapers had succeeded in making their intercourse with any
but battalions fresh from England one unbearable round of facile
jest. Never had any unit, save, perhaps, the London Scottish, been so
unmercifully hailed as “Mother’s blue-eyed boy.”

By March they lusted for blood, and the first whispers of battle were
listened to with a satisfied expectancy.

The new 1st Brigade of the Heavy Branch Machine Gun Corps was a very
much more assured body than the little band of pioneers who had waited
so anxiously for the dawn on September 15, 1916.

Owing to delays in manufacture, they were still only equipped with 60
Mark I. Tanks instead of about 120 Mark I.’s and Mark IV.’s, as had
been hoped. Still, the March 1917 Mark I. was very different from the
September 1916 Mark I. The most striking improvement was the shedding
of the cumbersome and ineffectual “Tail” or hydraulic stabiliser.

Most of the machines had also undergone a most careful overhauling at
the hands of the indefatigable vulcan, at the Battalion workshops, and
those innumerable tiny adjustments, repairs and improvements which
constitute “tuning up” had been made.

The machine-gun armament, too, had been modified, the Hotchkiss
being replaced by the Lewis gun. A new contrivance for use on soft
ground had also been fitted, consisting of stout little cigar-shaped
splinter-bars, a yard or so in length, attached to the track by means
of chains.

But more particularly crews had had proper time to train and they
knew that they knew their work. Their officers, too, were sure that
they would this time be properly supplied with maps and detailed
orders. Therefore, officers and crews got on with their own battle
preparations, or, later, rehearsed the coming action with the infantry,
with a good heart.


II

In the front line active preparations had begun. The Reconnaissance
Officers, several of whom took up their quarters in the half-deserted
town of Arras, had each had his area allotted to him, and they were
busy helping “Q” side to find suitable positions for the supply dumps,
for at this time there was no system of supply Tanks. Every tin of
petrol, every round of ammunition, had, therefore, to be carried by
hand from the railhead, and the task was one which took weeks to
complete.

It was calculated that had supply Tanks been available each machine
would have saved a carrying party of 300 men. The real work of the
Reconnaissance Officers, however, was to observe the enemy’s lines and
the country which lay beyond them.

Much of this country, even within our own lines, was practically
unknown to us, as the greater part of the sector selected for attack
had only just been “uncovered” by the sudden and unforeseen German
retirement. On this portion of the line the retirement had occurred
about a month before the battle was due. As in other parts of the line,
and as the enemy had intended, the retirement had proved extremely
embarrassing. We had carefully selected a site for our battle, and the
chosen ground had been thoroughly studied.

The sudden change to a piece of imperfectly known country involved
an enormous amount of extra photographing, map-making, sketching
and reconnaissance generally. This was merely troublesome; more
uncomfortable was the element of uncertainty which the retirement
introduced.

Would the enemy stand? And, if so, where? Was there some trap being
prepared for us? It was uncanny, for it was contrary to the tradition
of more than two years of trench warfare.

The final scheme of the attack was, however, planned on the assumption
that the enemy would give battle. For he now held a line of great
natural strength which he had improved with extraordinary skill and
energy. The scheme, as it affected the Tanks, was shortly this.

The general object of the action was to achieve a rapid success. That
is, to inflict a wound in the first twenty-four hours, severe enough
to force the enemy to bring up his reserves, thus depleting his line
near Soissons and Reims, where the French offensive was to be launched
immediately afterwards.

A proportion of Tanks was allotted to each of the Armies taking part.

  1. _With the First Army_ (“D” Battalion) to the North:

  Eight Tanks were to operate against Vimy Heights and the village
  and heights of Thélus, considered amongst the most formidable enemy
  positions in France. Tanks were to play a subsidiary part, as the
  soil here was a soft heavy loam, highly unfavourable to Tanks.

  2. _With the Third Army_ (“C” Battalion):

  Forty Tanks were to operate, some north, some south of the river
  Scarpe. This sector contained several notorious strong points, such
  as the Harp and Telegraph Hill. The ground here was hard and chalky
  and afforded good going for Tanks, though it was intersected by old
  trench lines and had been heavily crumped.

  3. _With the Fifth Army_ (“D” Battalion):

  Twelve Tanks were to operate in the region of Lagnicourt. Here
  the ground conditions were bad. The roads especially had been
  destroyed, and it was found impossible to bring up sufficient
  artillery for a preliminary bombardment. Therefore, on this sector
  Tanks were to play a leading part, preceding the infantry and
  largely replacing the barrage. This action was not to be launched
  till about forty-eight hours after that on the other two sectors.
  Zero day was to be April 9, and the attack was to be made at dawn.


III

Till the night before the battle the work of preparation had gone
smoothly.

Maps had been issued, stores stood ready, pack animals and limbers were
at hand to form advanced dumps.

The Reconnaissance Officers had taken little parties of Tank Commanders
to the best observation posts in their sectors, and had there shown
them the ground they must cross and expounded their maps to them. All
the Tanks had been brought safely to their railheads and successfully
detrained, and now they lay waiting in their tankodromes. “C”
(afterwards No. 3) Battalion lay in Arras itself. The town had been
most carefully prepared for troops to assemble and wait in.

Great chalk quarries underlay it, and these had been linked up and
lit with electricity, and here two divisions could lie thirty feet
underground secure from the heaviest shelling.

The Tanks had chosen the Citadel as their assembly place. There in the
great grassy ditch of the old Vauban Fort they lay, nosing for cover
into the re-entrant angles of the tall cliff of mellow brickwork that
towered above them.

As soon as it was dark, on the night of April 8–9, the Tanks set off on
their journey up the line.

There had been a question as to the route which these Tanks were to
follow.

The alternatives were a long detour round the head of a shallow valley
or a short cut over ground of questionable soundness.

The short cut had finally been decided upon, and, on the Reconnaissance
Officer’s report, the Battalion had applied for enough brushwood and
sleepers to build a rough causeway.

Owing to transport misunderstandings and difficulties, only a very
small proportion of this material arrived in time. It was, however,
decided still to chance the short cut. Brushwood had been laid in some
of the worst places and the ground had a firm top. It was thought
probable that this would, after all, bear the weight of the Tanks.

Alas, the hope was vain! The smooth turf proved to be no more than a
crust, covering a veritable bog, and it broke through when the column
was about halfway across. In the darkness six Tanks floundered one
after another into the morass.

The scene which followed is described by an officer who was present:

  “Never shall I forget the scene at Achicourt on the eve of the
  battle. It was round about midnight when I got there and pitch dark
  save for the fitful light from the still burning village[19] near
  by and the flashes of the guns.

  “We had got word of ‘trouble near the railway crossing,’ and
  trouble indeed there was.

  “There, sunk and wallowing in a bog of black mud, were some
  half-dozen Tanks--Tanks that should by then have been miles ahead
  and getting into their battle position for the attack at dawn.

  “Instead, here were the machines on which so much depended, lying
  helpless and silent at all sorts of ominous angles, and turned this
  way and that in their vain struggles to churn their way out of the
  morass.

  “About them were great weals and hummocks of mud and ragged holes
  brimming with black slime. The crews, sweating and filthy, were
  staggering about and trying to help their machines out by digging
  away the soil from under their bellies and by thrusting planks
  and brushwood under their tracks. Now and again an engine would be
  started up and some half-submerged Tank would heave its bulk up
  and out in unsteady floundering fashion, little by little and in
  wrenching jerks as the engine was raced and the clutch released.

  “Then the tracks of a sudden would cease biting and would rattle
  round ineffectively, the ground would give way afresh on one side,
  and the Tank would slowly heave over and settle down again with
  a perilous list, the black water awash in her lower sponson. No
  lights could be shown on account of enemy observation, and at any
  time he might reopen with his heavy artillery, which had already
  been blasting the immediate neighbourhood earlier in the night.

  “Altogether it was a desperate and discouraging business for those
  of us who knew that there were infantry already assembled for the
  morning’s assault who had practised with us, who looked to us for a
  lead across the German wire, and who must now do as best they might
  without us.”

In the event, however, it did not turn out as blackly as those at the
Achicourt slough had feared.

Had the approach march of the Tanks been run to time, the column would
almost certainly have come in for the blowing up of the ammunition dump
at Achicourt, which was hit and exploded by a German shell soon after
nightfall.

Also, the half-dozen Tanks that were extricated from the bog too late
to join in that morning’s attack, provided a small local reserve that
later proved of the utmost value and had an appreciable effect on the
course and ultimate issue of the battle.

The ruins of Achicourt continued to smoulder through the night.

  [20]“It had just been very badly shelled by the enemy. Two sides
  of the square were burned and blasted away (it had been all right,
  nearly, when I passed through it a few days before). The ruins
  still smoked and glowed, and shadowy working parties shovelled
  rubbish into shell craters to make them passable for transport and
  cleared a way through the sorry wreck. Smashed limbers, strings
  of dead mules, burnt-out and buckled motor lorries, transport
  wagons, and the like, all rather weird and depressing, the red
  glow of some other conflagration as a background, and this
  stabbed with the flicker of white light from our guns, little
  and great--thousands of them (actually), a throbbing roar in the
  distance, and fit to deafen you anywhere near. The great thing
  is to go about with an open mouth. It equalises the pressure on
  your ear-drums. I am acquiring a permanent droop of the lower
  jaw. Anyway, a discouraged, shell-shaken sentry told me that one
  could not go through for the shells, mostly our own, exploding in
  the fire, and refused to let me take the car in. It did not look
  anything like as bad as he tried to make out--from the danger point
  of view--and indeed when I walked through there were the working
  parties stolidly filling up the craters by the light of the glowing
  ruins. Having fulfilled my mission, I got back to report at Brigade
  Headquarters about 4 a.m., and then set out again at 4.30 to follow
  the battle and note and report the doings of our Willies.”

[Illustration: A DERELICT. VALLEY OF THE SCARPE]

[Illustration: A BURNING TANK]

[Illustration: “DIRECT HITS”]

[Illustration: BELLIED ON A TREE-STUMP AND SUBSEQUENTLY HIT]


IV

At about 3.30 a.m. heavy rain had begun to fall, and all day the armies
fought amid intermittent storms of sleet and drenching rain.

  [21]“Our bombardment was quite unimaginable--all that could
  possibly be desired, I should think, for accuracy, evenness and
  intensity. The final barrage was a really wonderful sight; just at
  dawn the grey sky ablaze with star shells and coloured rockets all
  along the line, nothing else to be seen.

  “Then when it got a little lighter and the barrage had crept on,
  we could see thousands of our men popping up from their barely
  visible ‘assembly slits’ in the ground and pouring up the slope in
  a slow-moving, loose sort of crowd with no discernible formation,
  and with and among them, the Tanks.

  “They had previously come up across an apparently deserted valley
  over the heads of our waiting infantry in their shelter trenches.
  They appeared breasting the hill and disappeared over the brow
  together with the attacking waves of troops. The enemy’s shrapnel
  and high explosives that came back were almost laughable in
  comparison with what we put over them, and our casualties were, on
  the whole, unusually light. Where I was watching was reported to be
  the hardest nut on the whole line.[22]

  “What with the barrage and the Tanks the defence appears to have
  just collapsed, and a few minutes and a few casualties gave us
  possession of a wonderful redoubt that the enemy had lavished
  extraordinary ingenuity and industry in preparing for many months
  past.

  “I saw it all from a hedge in a hillside about 1000 yards away. I
  had determined on the spot, and, as luck would have it, I found
  when I got there that there was a half-finished observation post
  with a lovely little pit to jump down into if things got hot.
  However, there was no need to use it. It was only getting into
  it that was rather exciting. I got spattered with débris time
  and again, but by tacking, waiting, and using the country, I got
  through without any real unpleasantness.

  “It’s been a real thoroughgoing victory so far as we can see and
  hear--or rather hear, for I only saw the first phase. Good old
  Willies, it’s partly their victory, too, as all can see. Wonderful
  messages come in, a dozen or more to the hour, reports, telegrams,
  telephone messages, kite balloons, aeroplanes, pigeon letters,
  etc., and nearly all good, _awfully_ good.

  “‘We have reached Z.22.B.64 and are going strong.’

  “‘Have taken Tilloy Village.’

  “‘Over 2000 prisoners in our Corps cages already, including thirty
  officers and a Battalion Commander.’

  “‘Nine hundred prisoners, scared and starved, _moral_ rotten.’

  “‘Have reached the Blue Line,’ _Signed_ Daphne, ‘Consolidated at
  Y.13.C.68 to 15.D. Central,’ only we don’t consolidate, we just
  hammer on line after line exactly to programme and as never before.

  “‘Tanks seen zero plus 5 hours 15 minutes in the “Howitzer Valley”
  accompanied by infantry. Guns still in position, gunners not.’

  “And so on; and our blue cardboard slips representing infantry and
  little red flags, denoting Tanks, march on and on and on.”

Partly owing to the weather conditions and partly because the sixty
Tanks were strung out along so wide a front, Tank Commanders had been
told to act more or less independently against the strong points which
had been allotted to them. Once zero had struck, therefore, the history
of the battle becomes, from the Tank point of view, chiefly that of the
exploits of individual machines.

The only exception is the history of the eight Tanks operating with the
Canadians at Vimy. Alas! their story is easily summarised.

It had been originally decided that if the weather was wet no Tanks
were to operate on this sector at all, as the condition of the ground
was already exceptionally bad. The eight were to be sent down to
reinforce the 5th Army where the going was good.

As luck would have it, April 7 and 8 were fine, and it was determined
that the Tanks should not be sent down, but should go in on the ridge.
When a drenching rain set in two hours before zero it was too late to
alter the plan of attack. The result was as had been expected.

Every Tank without exception ditched or got stuck in No Man’s Land or
in the enemy front line.

Therefore, the Tanks claim no share in the Canadians’ brilliant and
historic taking of the ridge.

So great was the Canadians’ _élan_, and so successful was our barrage,
that by the time the Tanks were extricated there was happily no rôle
for them to play. They were, therefore, withdrawn as quickly as
possible, and were, after all, sent down to reinforce the 5th Army.

With the 3rd Army, several Tanks performed interesting exploits.

Second Lieutenant Weber’s Tank, “Lusitania,” for example, spent an
exciting and profitable two days. This machine was some three hours
late in starting owing to trouble with the secondary gear. Just as it
was getting off, word was brought that the infantry was held up. The
arrival of the Tank effected an entire change in the situation, and a
machine-gun placed in a wood north of the railway having been silenced
by the Tank’s 6-pounder fire, it proceeded towards the Blue Line. The
infantry advanced at the same time, and both reached the next enemy
trench together.

The movement was carried out in such close alignment that the Tank was
prevented from making use of its guns and enfilading the trench, but
the Germans, unable to face the combined attack, held up their hands
and surrendered. The Tank then cruised along the railway towards Fleury
Redoubt, firing as it went with its 6-pounder and Lewis guns. The
Germans made haste to evacuate the Redoubt, and could be seen to take
refuge in a dug-out close to a railway arch.

The Tank drew on towards the arch, firing in its progress at any
object suggesting a machine-gun emplacement. Near the arch it found
itself under our own barrage and also shelled by an anti-Tank gun. It
accordingly wheeled about, reclimbed the slope it had just descended,
and signalled to the infantry to come on. Then, returning to the arch,
it mounted guard while the infantry unearthed the Germans who had
taken refuge in the dug-out. This point disposed of and a steep bank
hindering further advance, it was found necessary to take a southerly
course to find a more possible place for climbing, the engine having
become badly overheated. Indeed, so hot was it that the machine now
jibbed at the easiest exit from the valley that could be found, and
there was nothing for it but to wait until the engine should cool down.

On the instant that the Tank Commander announced his decision to
lie-up, down dropped each man of the crew where he sat or stood,
overcome by heat and the cumulative exhaustion of days and nights of
almost ceaseless preparation.

Shells whined and droned overhead, and would now and again pitch in the
valley on this or that side of the Tank, throwing up a brown cascade of
earth with a reverberating crash.

Along the western bank of the valley were the excavated and concreted
pits that had sheltered the enemy’s guns for two and a half years.
From some the pieces had been withdrawn, in others our fire had caught
the gunners and their teams in the very act, and the valley bottom
was strewn with tragic heaps--guns, limbers, men and horses, huddled
together in shapeless tangles of brown and grey, or tossed apart to
lie singed and torn amongst the short grass and the shell-holes.

Down near the railway arch through which the valley track led to the
river Scarpe, one diminutive Highlander had paraded a drove of some 200
prisoners who had somehow come under his sole charge.

They were neatly lined up in fours, each man with his hands above his
head, and as they drooped from weariness or fidgeted from fear of the
shells that continued to fall haphazardly about them, their small and
solitary escort would flourish, and more than flourish his bayonet. Up
would go the 400 hands once more and the parade be restored to order.

Not for nothing had one young Scotsman been taught the value of
discipline.

By the time the engine had cooled down, the crew been roused, and the
far bank surmounted, the infantry were well on their way to their
objective. Dropping into third gear the Tank gradually gained on them,
and its commander, observing that they had entered the German trench,
swung half right and took a course through the barbed wire parallel to
it. On the flank of the 15th Division, the trench was seen to be still
in German hands. The Tank opened fire accordingly with 6-pounders and
machine-guns, doing what damage it could. It caused a redoubt to be
evacuated, it searched out and caused two snipers to surrender, and
later in the evening, in answer to an urgent request from a Colonel of
infantry, it approached within fifty yards of a trench and silenced two
out of four machine-guns. Then, the already defective magneto giving
out altogether and the Tank being brought to a standstill, it opened a
heavy fire along the trench with Lewis and 6-pounder guns. Having thus
killed many Germans, and the engine refusing to restart, the commander
at 9.30 p.m. decided to abandon the Tank, after a full twelve hours in
action.

It had then been dark for some time, and the Germans had kept up a
lively fire on the stranded Tank with rifles and machine-guns, taking
aim at the chinks and loopholes through which the lights shone out in
tell-tale beams.

For hour after hour, those within had striven laboriously yet vainly
to set their engines going, and so to bring their Tank safely back out
of its gallant maiden action. But nothing availed, and, the enemy fire
becoming more intense and accurate, the lights were switched off and
the preparations for evacuation made in total darkness.

It was first necessary to find out where our own line lay and to warn
our infantry that the crew would be coming in.

Sergeant Latham at once volunteered for this reconnaissance, and
crawled out of the Tank into the lesser blackness of the night. Rifles
spat and stray bullets cracked and whined impartially around, and
British and German rifles and bullets sound very much alike. However,
partly by judgment and partly by luck, Sergeant Latham stumbled into
our own lines and warned the garrison of the trench to fire high as the
crew from the derelict Tank would soon be coming in.

It was as well that the sergeant succeeded in delivering his message,
as a relief had taken place under cover of the night, and the new
garrison had been told nothing of the Tank out in front, and would
certainly have greeted the returning crew as enemy raiders.

Next day, having procured a new magneto, the Tank Commander and some
of his crew set out for their machine with better hope of salving her.

They were approaching the battle front when an agitated battery
commander hailed them and sought information as to the Tank out to his
front. Hearing that it was a derelict that they were on their way to
try to bring in, he exclaimed, “Thank God for that! I’ve been blasting
that part this morning. I didn’t know about the Tank, and I’ve just got
a direct hit on it that’s crumpled it up. I feared it might have been
manned.”

So ended the short but valiant career of the avenging “Lusitania.” For
his very gallant command, Second Lieutenant Weber received an immediate
award of the Military Cross, and Sergeant Latham the Military Medal.
The specific action for which the latter was decorated is officially
described as follows:

  “76441 _Sgt. F. Latham, ‘C’ Batt., awarded M.M._ for conspicuous
  gallantry and devotion to duty. During the Battle of Arras on April
  9, 1917, whilst passing through a severe enemy barrage, lengths
  of barbed wire were caught up by the tracks of his Tank which
  pulled the camouflage cover over the exhaust openings, and caused
  the whole mass to catch fire. Without waiting for orders Sergeant
  Latham climbed on top of the Tank and removed the burning material.
  Later on this N.C.O. displayed the greatest courage whilst
  attempting to dig out his Tank under heavy fire.”

Another Tank, commanded by Second Lieutenant S. S. Ching, in this
sector was late in starting, and had barely caught up its infantry when
it became ditched. It held out, however, for no less than three days
while the fighting eddied about it.

It made most active use of its 6-pounders, thereby effectively
protecting the right flank of its infantry.

Another Tank fell bodily into an old gun emplacement near
Neuville-Vitasse which had been carefully turfed over.


V

BULLECOURT

By the night of the 9th the force of the first wave was spent, and
though, as we have seen, many units were continuously in action for the
next three days, for the bulk both of Tanks and infantry April 10 was
spent in consolidating positions or digging out and repairing Tanks.

On April 11 the attack on Bullecourt and two other lesser actions were
fought. One of the two minor attacks was that on Monchy, in which six
Tanks took part.

It was highly successful owing chiefly to the extremely gallant way in
which the machines were fought. The Tanks took the village practically
unassisted and held it for two hours till the infantry came up.

Unfortunately, there were no further supplies of Tanks to exploit the
success or more might have been achieved. The second attack was made
from Neuville-Vitasse down the Siegfried Line. Four Tanks took part and
did great execution, all the machines returning safely.

The stars in their courses seem to have fought against the success of
the attack against Bullecourt in which eleven Tanks co-operated with
the Australians.

It will be remembered that the 5th Army attack was not to be launched
till some time after that in the other sectors. Also that the state of
the roads was such that it was impossible to bring up enough artillery
for a preliminary bombardment. Therefore the Battle of Bullecourt was
to have been a first wave attack in which a small number of Tanks were
to play the lead.

The eleven Tanks were to have advanced in line upon the Siegfried
defences east of Bullecourt. Some were then to have wheeled west to
attack Bullecourt itself, while others were to move east down the
German trench system, a third party pushing straight ahead to Riencourt
and Hedecourt.

The attack was to have been made at dawn on April 10, and at nightfall
on the 9th the Tanks began their move up to their battle positions
behind the railway embankment. All day the weather had been cold and
stormy, and the Tanks had not gone half a mile before a violent snow
blizzard came on, blotting out every landmark. Most of the troops who
had moves to make that night were confounded in the swirling darkness,
and though the eleven Tanks did not stray far, their pace had to be
reduced to a crawl and at dawn they were still far from their battle
stations. The Australian infantry, who had already assembled at the
railway embankment, had to be withdrawn under heavy shelling, the whole
attack postponed, and the manner of it much modified. All next night
the snow fell. When the attack did take place on the 11th, it proved,
both for Tanks and infantry, a costly little failure. The day dawned
clear and against the whiteness of the snow every advancing Tank and
its broad double track, stood out sharply. Further, the Australian
infantry wading through the snow, found the path made by the Tanks
irresistible and followed in long lines strung out along their tracks.
Thus Tanks and infantry provided the Germans with the most perfect
artillery targets imaginable.

Of the eleven Tanks, nine were knocked out by direct hits before
their work was half accomplished. Worst of all, two Tanks which, with
about 200 Australians, pressed on nearly five miles to Riencourt and
Hedecourt, found their right unprotected owing to our failure to
advance the other part of our line. The Germans organised a sweeping
counter-attack, and the two villages, the infantry and the Tanks, were
surrounded and taken. [23] “The First Battle of Bullecourt was a minor
disaster--the three brigades of infantry lost very heavily indeed--and
the company of Tanks had been apparently nothing but a broken reed.

“For many months after, the Australians distrusted Tanks--‘the Tanks
had failed them’--‘the Tanks had let them down.’” We shall see that
it was not till after the Battle of Hamel that their confidence was
restored.

Not a single Tank survived to rally after the battle. But our
worst loss was that of the two Tanks which were “taken alive,” for
examination of the captured machines revealed to the enemy how
effective a weapon was their armour-piercing bullet against the Mark I.

After this action a German Order was issued that every man should be
provided with five rounds of the “K” (armour-piercing) ammunition, and
every machine-gun with several hundred. As long as the Mark I. was
used, these bullets were to cause heavy casualties among Tanks and
their crews.

For the next ten days Tanks were busy refitting. By the 20th thirty of
the original sixty Tanks were fit again for action, and on April 23
eleven Tanks were employed in two and threes to help on the infantry
advance on the line of Monchy-Rœux-Gavrelle.

Again the feature of the day was the fine individual work.

The story of a Tank which worked opposite Rœux is told in the Honours
and Awards List in the note on Sergeant J. Noel’s D.C.M.:

  “During the battle of Arras on April 23 this N.C.O. took command
  of his Tank after his officer had been wounded. He fought his Tank
  with the greatest gallantry and skill, putting out of action many
  machine-guns and killing numbers of the enemy, besides taking fifty
  prisoners. His action enabled the infantry to gain possession
  of the Chemical Works. He brought his Tank back safely to its
  starting-point. His skill and gallantry were beyond all praise. He
  was continuously in action for nine hours.”

This was the first time a Tank was commanded in action by an N.C.O.

Another pause followed the actions of the 23rd. Of the sixty Tanks
which had gone in on the 9th, not many machines remained that could
soon be repaired.

However, twelve Tanks were somehow made “battle-worthy,” and on May 3
were sent in for the last time before the Brigade was withdrawn to rest
and to be re-equipped at Wailly, their new training ground.

A party of four operated between Croisilles and St. Léger and became
heavily engaged in a fight at close quarters against bombs and trench
mortars.

The second group of eight Tanks made another assault upon Bullecourt.

Though individuals did extremely well, the attack was once more
unsuccessful, as, though Tanks reached their objective, they were
obliged to retire again.

No less than ten Military Medals and a D.C.M. were awarded to men and
N.C.O.’s of the Tanks who took part in this little action.

The Germans had learnt their lesson, and Tanks and crews suffered
heavily from armour-piercing bullets. Several of the decorations were
given to drivers who had brought their Tanks safely out of action when
themselves severely wounded.

With this second attack on Bullecourt ended, as far as the Tanks were
concerned, the Battle of Arras. There were not many 1st Brigade Tanks
to withdraw to Wailly nor many unwounded men to man them. It was,
however, with feelings very different from those of the “veterans” of
the Somme that officers and men left the battle.

The careful training at Bermicourt with its well-planned courses,
its boxing, and its games was justified. Men and officers could not
have displayed a finer fighting spirit. The value of their work was
recognised by all the units with whom they fought.

Major-General Williams, commanding the 37th division, wrote of “C”
Battalion’s work in the attack on Monchy:

  “It was a great achievement, and in itself more than justifies the
  existence of the Tanks. Officers and men concerned deserve the
  highest credit.”

Lieut.-General Aylmer Haldane, commanding the 6th Corps, wrote to
Colonel Baker-Carr, commanding the 1st Brigade, on April 13:

  “... I am really most grateful for all the Tanks and their
  commanders have done, and the great success of this Corps is only
  attributable to the help you have given us. This has been my first
  experience of the co-operation of Tanks, and I certainly never
  again want to be without them, when so well commanded and led.”

Not only had the personnel done extraordinarily well, their conduct
being “a triumph of _moral_ over technical difficulties,” but on the
whole the general work of the Tanks had been a success.

These were briefly the technical lessons of the battle:

  Tanks should be used in masses.

  They should be concentrated.

  A large reserve should always be kept in hand.

  Mark I. machines are not suitable for use on very wet or very
  heavily shelled ground.

  Signal and supply Tanks are essential.

In fine, the chief obstacle to a still fuller measure of success had
been that there were 60, and not 260, Tanks available.




CHAPTER VII

THE BATTLE OF MESSINES AND THE “HUSH” OPERATION

    “And little would’st thou grudge them
      Their greater depth of soul.
    Thy partners in the torch race,
      Though nearer to the goal.”--IONICA.


I

In many battles in which Tanks later took part, two or more Tank
Brigades would be associated. But the Battles of Arras and Messines
belong, the former to the 1st and the latter to the 2nd Brigade
exclusively.

The 2nd Brigade had been formed exactly like the 1st.

That is to say, a nucleus of Somme “Tank Veterans” had been reinforced
by picked volunteers from the other branches of the Service. Like the
1st Brigade they trained in France, in the Bermicourt area. The unknown
author of the 2nd Battalion history gives an amusing account of this
training in which sports of all kinds, rugger, soccer, snow fights,
boxing and swimming, helped in the “edification” as well as the more
serious courses.

One feature of the period was, as usual, a shortage of instructional
machines.

Dummy Tanks were therefore used for several practice attacks. The
dummies were made of wood and canvas and were carried from within by
their crew of seven.

  “They looked for all the world like some drab-coloured prehistoric
  monster with as many legs as a centipede. A high wind blew during
  a certain ‘action’ in March, and made things most difficult. By
  the time the final objective was reached many of the Tanks were
  in a state of collapse, the torn canvas revealing the perspiring
  machinery to the amused gaze of the onlookers. The remains of the
  Tanks were, however, most useful for firewood and the renovation of
  beds.”

The account goes on to relate the delightful keenness of the men, and
how their interest in their training was so great that such serious
_contretemps_ as getting in late for tea “were regarded as nothing.”

The 2nd Brigade was to be equipped with Mark IV. Tanks as soon as a
supply was available.

The first batch of machines arrived in France towards the end of April.

The Mark IV. Tank was an improved Mark I., and did not differ very
materially from its predecessor in design.

These were, briefly, the principal improvements:

First, its armour was of a special steel which was impervious to the
German armour-piercing bullet.

Secondly, the sponsons were of a better pattern. In the Mark I. they
had to be completely unshipped whenever the Tank was moved by rail; in
the Mark IV. they were so constructed that they could be “pushed in”
sufficiently for railway transport.

Thirdly, a new and heavier design of track rollers and links was
introduced.

Fourthly, danger from fire was reduced by the petrol tank (protected,
of course, by special armour-plates) being outside and at the back of
the machine.

There were also other minor improvements in armament, and the total
weight of the Tank was slightly reduced.

Such was the weapon which was to be first tried at Messines, and such
was the unit which was at the same time to make its début.


II

The Battle of Messines did not prove one in which Tanks were able
to show to any particular advantage; this not because of adverse
conditions, but because of the battle’s very success. It was throughout
an extremely well-planned little action, and would probably have been
perfectly successful even without the co-operation of Tanks.

An expert military critic has said of it:

  “The Battle of Messines, one of the shortest and best mounted
  limited operations of the War, was in no sense a Tank battle.”

It was perhaps a little hard on the 2nd Brigade, who fought throughout
with particular gallantry, that more of the laurel could not fall to
them.

For not only was the 2nd Brigade’s maiden battle notable for gallantry
in the field, but also for the very high standard of the Staff
work--the administrative arrangements indeed long remaining the model
for subsequent Tank operations.

So inspiring a little action was it, so well planned and executed in
every stage, that the 2nd Brigade themselves felt that they had been
privileged in playing even a relatively minor part in such an assault.

Though Tanks proved useful in several phases of the battle, Tank
Commanders are the first to attribute the successes of the day to the
artillery, the tunnelling companies and the infantry.

They had early established particularly cordial relations with the
infantry, and it is said that a Maori Unit of the 2nd Anzac Corps gave
expert help to the 2nd Tank Battalion in camouflaging its machines.

Messines was to be a prelude to a more considerable attack in the Ypres
Salient. The village of Messines itself and the Wytschaete Ridge were
to be taken, thus securing the British Right for the Ypres attack, and
depriving the enemy of dominating ground.

The advance was to be a very short one, and the rôle of the Tanks was
to be subsidiary to that of gunners, sappers and infantry.

Land Mines were to be a special feature of the action. The explosion of
twenty of these containing over a million pounds of ammonal was to be
the signal for attack on the morning of June 7.

Some of the mines had been ready for more than a year, and we had
constructed nearly five miles of galleries. The Germans too had not
been idle.

At the time of our attack we knew that the enemy was driving a gallery
leading to our Hill 60 mine. By careful listening we judged that if our
offensive were launched on the date arranged the enemy’s counter-mine
would just fail to reach us. He was, therefore, allowed to proceed.

Altogether seventy-two Mark IV. Tanks were to be employed, and, the
lesson of Arras having been learnt, twelve Mark I. and Mark II. Tanks
had been converted into supply machines. Each of these was able to
bring up sufficient petrol, ammunition and other stores to replenish
five fighting Tanks.

Forty Tanks were to cross the parapet at zero hour and the rest of the
Tanks were to be held in reserve.

They were to be distributed as follows:--

_To the North_: twelve Tanks were to work with the 10th Corps, whose
objective was the Oosttaverne line.

_In the Centre_: sixteen Tanks were attached to the 9th Corps, who were
to capture Wytschaete.

_To the South_: twenty Tanks were to fight with the 2nd Corps, who were
to take Messines and a strong point named Fanny’s Farm, the reserves
pushing on to capture the Oosttaverne line in the second phase of the
attack.

The weather had been fine and hot for nearly three weeks before the
battle, and a heavy thunder shower which fell on June 6 hardly laid the
dust which had hung for weeks in a hazy curtain over the approach roads.

The Tanks were as usual moved up during the night before the action. It
was very dark, with heavy thunder clouds hiding the moon.

  [24]“The last part of the approach march will never be forgotten by
  those who took part in it.

  “The enemy took it into his head to bombard with lachrymatory and
  other gas shells, and the night was so black that it was impossible
  to keep gas-masks on the whole time.

  “So with streaming eyes, with no sort of light, with Tank
  Commanders and drivers coughing and spluttering, the Tanks
  forged ahead over this area of unseen trenches, barbed wire and
  shell-holes, the men buoyed up by the knowledge of the shock the
  Hun would receive in an hour or so.”

Zero hour was to be at dawn.

Somewhere north of Wytschaete a German dump had caught fire, and the
red flames streamed up against the pale summer sky.

It grew lighter, and our aeroplanes and balloons began to go up, dark
against the dawn.

Our unusual activity in the air did not escape the watchful enemy, and
his suspicions were soon thoroughly aroused.

He began to send up rockets calling for barrage fire, and soon his guns
were responding with growing emphasis.

At seven minutes past three our artillery stopped, and the rattle of
machine-guns stood out in the comparative silence.

There was a pause. A low rumbling was heard. The earth rocked and
quivered until with a prolonged and rending crash a screen of fire rose
where the German front lines had been.

Masses of earth were hurled skywards, and as they rose gleamed for a
moment purple and gold in the first rays of the sun. They writhed and
shifted, fantastically swaying, and shot through with flames. Balls of
fire were hurled in every direction, and the air quivered and vibrated
with the shock. Before the tortured earth could fall again, down came
the stunning roar and crash of the British barrage; and Tanks and
infantry were over the parapet.

By 7 a.m. the Anzacs were in Messines, and both Tanks and infantry had
reached Fanny’s Farm by noon, their day’s objective gained.

One Tank working with the 2nd Corps reached its final objective (at a
distance of about two miles) in an hour and forty minutes.

A Tank led the Ulstermen and the Southern Irish of the 9th Division
into Wytschaete.

By about three o’clock three Tanks had reached Oosttaverne, and they
patrolled the ground beyond the village till their accompanying Welsh
and West Country troops came up.

By nightfall we held our final objective everywhere, and had besides
captured 7300 prisoners and 67 guns, 94 trench mortars and a very large
number of machine-guns.

All through the night of the 7th-8th the Germans launched small hastily
organised counter-attacks, and in repelling one of these, chance
enabled three Tanks to play a curious and useful part.

Three of the Tanks, which had helped in the capture of Oosttaverne, had
ultimately got ditched near a place named Joye Farm.

It was impossible to extricate them in the darkness, and the crews
stood by, hoping to get them out as soon as it was light again.

Meanwhile towards morning word came that the Germans were going to
counter-attack.

In the position in which the Tanks lay, the crews were able to train
their 6-pounders against the enemy, who had been seen massing in
the Wanbeke Valley. As the Lewis guns could not be brought to bear,
they were dismounted, and the rest of the crews operated them from
neighbouring shell-holes.

  [25]“Word was sent to the infantry to warn them of the coming
  attack, and to ask for co-operation. They replied that they had run
  short of ammunition for their Lewis gun, and some was supplied to
  them from the Tanks.”

The attack did not develop as early as had been expected, but when it
came it was in force.

From about 6.30 onwards the enemy repeatedly attempted to advance,
raking the Tanks with a hail of armour-piercing bullets, which,
however, failed to penetrate.

They were driven off every time with heavy loss, until at 11.30 a.m.
our artillery opened and dispersed them with barrage fire.


III

The failure of their armour-piercing bullets against the Mark IV. must
have proved something of a disappointment to the enemy.

It is curious to trace the effort which the Germans made to keep up
with our development of the Tank.

For once, we had moved first, and the enemy was always to be a lap
behind.

No sooner had he discovered how effective was his “K” bullet against
the Mark I. Tank, than we confronted him with the Mark IV., against
which it was powerless.

The Germans always had rather hazy ideas as to the capabilities and
habits of our current Tank. They had had ample opportunity of examining
two Tanks which lay derelict in their lines on the Somme, yet until the
Battle of Arras they believed that Tanks were largely dependent on the
use of roads, and that therefore pits and other obstacles in roads must
form a useful anti-Tank defence.

  [26]“It was also not till the later stages of the Battle of Arras
  that the enemy realised from some captured Tanks near Bullecourt
  that the ‘K’ bullet was effective against the type of Tank that had
  been in use against them since September 1916.

  “By the time the enemy had fully realised this, however, the old
  Tanks were used up, and at Messines the Mark IV. had made its
  appearance and the chance of the armour-piercing bullet was over....

  “After Messines the Germans began to realise the importance of
  artillery as a defence against Tanks, and ‘the chief rôle allotted
  to the infantry was to keep its head’ and leave the rest to the
  guns....

  “Prominence was given to indirect fire[27] of guns of both heavy
  and light calibres on approaching Tanks. In spite of several dawn
  attacks the enemy laid great stress on what he called ‘Distant
  Defence,’ and a few special anti-Tank guns, about two per
  divisional front, were placed in specially covered positions.”

It was not till the Battle of Cambrai in November 1917 that he was to
discover by chance the one effective weapon against Tanks. That is to
say, Direct Fire by field guns.


THE “HUSH” OPERATION

I

Before it was decided to fight the enemy at Messines there had been an
idea of an attack near Lens, and most of the reconnaissance for such a
battle had been carried out.

Like many another battle of the War, it was never fought, and remained
only the shadow of an operation.

Of all these shadows and projected attacks, the one which had attracted
more interest than any other was in active preparation while the 2nd
Brigade was fighting at Messines.

This was the revised and abridged version of the famous “Hush”
operation, that is, of the projected attack on the Belgian coast.

The first time such a notion had been suggested was in the spring of
1916, and elaborate plans were then made for a surprise landing in and
near Ostend.

But we were obliged to co-operate with the French, and to fight instead
on the Somme. The First Battle of the Somme, however, developed into a
“slogging match” and lasted through the rest of that campaigning season.

Next year the idea was again brought up. This time Tanks were to take
part. The scheme was a less ambitious one, and the landing was to be
effected between Ostend and the Allied line about Nieuport. A special
detachment of Tanks was located at Erin, and started training for the
difficult manœuvre of climbing the sea wall which here protects the
coast. This training was carried out as secretly as possible, and it
was given out that its object was the surmounting of some of the Lille
fortifications, a figment which for long satisfied the minds of the
curious.

The problem to be solved was an exceedingly complex one.

The mere landing of Tanks on an open beach is no light matter. When
that beach is heavily defended by an alert and resourceful enemy, when
it is commanded and enfiladed by a concentration of artillery of all
calibres concealed amongst the dunes, and when in addition the shelving
beach is crowned by a steep sea wall of concrete, a landing would seem
to have but small chance of success. Still, there was a chance, and the
stake at hazard being a big one, big risks might be cheerfully accepted.

The general plans for the enterprise having been approved in the
highest quarters, were then very carefully worked out down to the
smallest details by a little band of experts, prominent amongst whom
were Admiral Bacon, Lieut.-Colonel Philip Johnson, and Major Hotblack.

The whole of the projected landing was elaborately staged, and long
and patiently rehearsed--the Tanks playing the lead in what the whole
various cast hoped was to be a really notable success.

Immense pontoons 600 ft. in length were specially built to carry the
landing parties--armies in little with representatives almost of every
arm and branch except the cavalry.

These strange craft were to be lashed between a couple of monitors,
and so pushed across the channel and up the beach at certain selected
points, points that exhaustive air reconnaissance and photography at
all states of the tide had indicated as most suitable.

Actual trials of the pontoons and their monitor escorts were made in
the secret waters of the Thames, and officers of the Tank Corps would
suddenly disappear on unknown missions, to reappear as suddenly with no
memory as to where they had been or what they had seen in the interval.

The sea wall itself might well have been designed as a special defence
against sea-borne hostile Tanks, its smooth concave face and projecting
coping making it absolutely unscalable by an honest Tank.

The wall was of recent construction, and by a fortunate chance the
Belgian architect who had designed it had escaped to France with all
his drawings.

From his plans an exact reproduction of a length of the wall was made.

There in the experimental ground it stood, perfectly smooth, and worst
of all, ending at the top in a curl-over coping.

At least, however, the engineers now knew the extent of their problem.

In the first place, the Tanks had to get up somehow, and in the second
place, when they were up they had to help haul up guns and transport
lorries.

After “trying on” various devices, the Tanks at last adopted what was
practically a portable ramp for the occasion.

The Tank, until it reached the sea wall, carried it well in the air on
a long spar supported by wire hawsers.

Then the ramp was lowered on to the pair of little wheels with which
it was fitted. On these the Tank pushed it up the incline, wheelbarrow
fashion, until further progress was stopped by the coping.

The two wheels were then immediately shed, and steel spikes on the
under side of the work were driven into the concrete by the weight of
the Tank, which now, disengaging itself, proceeded to climb up its own
scaling ladder which it had thus placed in position. But the lorries
and guns had still to be provided for.

The angle formed by the inclined plane and the level ground above the
retaining wall was a sharp one.

Besides, it must be understood that the inclined plane used by the
Tanks fitted in under the concrete lip. At the point of junction
between the ground and the inclined plane there was, therefore, a
considerable bump. Both the acuteness of the angle and this “bump”
made it necessary to adopt some less back-breaking device for the
four-wheeled vehicles. A strong gangway, like a see-saw, was therefore
employed, and up this they were hauled, the weight of the gun or lorry
gently tipping the board down when it passed the balancing point.

But the landing was never made, and for this many elaborate
explanations have been put forward.

Two circumstances seem, however, sufficient to explain the apparent
withdrawal of our hands from the plough.

The first was what seemed a trivial attack which the Germans made on
July 10.

It will be remembered that the Belgian inundations stretched inland
opposite Nieuport, almost from the mile-wide belt of dry ground next
the sea which was formed by the sand dunes. Through these dunes cut the
river Yser, and near the coast we held both banks of the river. When
the time came, General Rawlinson could have moved his troops forward
freely over the numerous bridges which had been made, to join hands
with the landing party for whom he had so long been waiting.

In the dune and polder country trenches were impossible, and our
defence here consisted of breastworks built in the sand.

Now it had been abundantly and constantly proved throughout 1915 and
1916 that any advanced trench system could be taken at any time by the
side which was prepared to mass sufficient troops and guns for the
purpose.

The Germans could have stretched out their hands at any moment for this
bit of coast.

They chose not to grasp it until they imagined that our plans, whatever
they might be, were complete, and when their attack would probably
cause us the maximum of inconvenience. Therefore, it was on July 10
that, after a tremendous bombardment, they attacked the position in
overwhelming force. Our defence was gallant but vain, and by the
evening the Germans had captured the northern part of our bridgeheads.

It is true that we succeeded in holding Nieuport itself, but the
loss of even the small strip of ground to the north of it rendered
the assembly of troops in that area for our own attack, which was to
co-operate with the coast landing, almost impossible.

The second and more weighty circumstance was the fatal slowness of our
main advance at Ypres.

In the next chapters we shall consider these tragic months, whose slow
passage swept away so many schemes and hopes, and made unfruitful so
much thought and labour.

Enough that the “Hush” operation was swept silently away with the rest.
As late as the beginning of October, however, the men who had planned
so cunningly, whose minds had surmounted so many difficulties, still
hoped that their work might not prove barren.

But by the middle of the month it had become clear that the landing
could not take place, and the end of October the special Tank
detachment was finally disbanded.




CHAPTER VIII

THE FLANDERS CAMPAIGN--PREPARATIONS FOR THE THIRD BATTLE OF YPRES


The Third Battle of Ypres represented the remaining fragment of what
was to have been a great and extensive campaign. It was the stump of a
tree shorn down to shoulder height and bare of leaves and branches.

One circumstance after another had postponed the execution of the large
design. Troops which had been earmarked for it had had to be diverted
to other parts of the front.

We had had to put it off to co-operate more closely with the French,
and certain other obstacles had arisen, the full story of which has not
even yet been told.

The Battle of Messines was over by June 12, but it was considered that
if an attack in the strongly fortified Ypres Salient was to have a real
chance of success, it must be an attack in force, a regular full-dress
battle, for which the preparations were then held to be necessarily
extremely elaborate.

About six weeks were therefore to elapse before the attack was
launched. Once launched, however, the attackers must gain their
objectives rapidly. That was essential to the plan.

The Russian front was crumbling. Germany was bringing troops and guns
westward. We should soon be face to face with an enemy so strongly
reinforced that our chance of victory in an attack would be slight.

  [28]“It was in some degree a race against time. If a true strategic
  purpose was to be effected before winter, the first stages must be
  quickly passed. The high ground east of the Salient must be won in
  a fortnight, to enable the British to move against the German bases
  in West Flanders and clear the coastline.”

Not only must we hasten because we faced an enemy whose strength would
be increasing daily, but because we were to attack in Flanders, and the
summer would be far spent before we could complete our preparations.

The enemy’s lines lay on the slopes of the semicircle of low hills that
overlook Ypres. Behind him lay another swampy valley, which rose again
to another slightly higher crescent of hills.

In the inner arena lay the ruins of Ypres, and, set in the marshy
levels and immediately overlooked by the first semicircle of hillocks
and more distantly by the second, lay our lines.

  [29]“The territory lying within the crescent was practically all
  reclaimed swamp land including Ypres and as far back as to St.
  Omer, both of which, a few hundred years ago, were seaports. All
  agriculture in this area depended on careful drainage, the water
  being carried away in innumerable dykes. So important was the
  maintenance of this drainage system considered, that in normal
  times a Belgian farmer who allowed his dykes to fall into disrepair
  was heavily fined.”

Across this terrain two great armies had faced each other for nearly
three years.

The Salient was, after Verdun, the most tortured of the Western
battlefields. Constant shelling of the low ground west of the ridges
had blocked or diverted the streams and the natural drainage, and
turned it into a sodden wilderness.

If August was a wet month, as it had been the year before for the
Battle of the Somme, our chance of success was scanty.

  [30]“Much rain would make a morass of the Salient where Tanks could
  not be used, transport could scarcely move, and troops would be
  exposed to the last degree of misery.”

However, the previous shelling of the ground was as nothing compared
with the bombardment which we now intended to inflict.

Every corner of the enemy’s ground was to be drenched with our fire.

  [31]“The present battle was to be preceded by the longest
  bombardment ever carried out by the British Army, eight days’
  counter-battery work (begun on July 7) being followed by sixteen
  days’ intense bombardment. The effect of this cannonade was to
  destroy the drainage system and to produce water in the shell-holes
  formed, even before the rain fell.”


II

The enemy had for long been in no doubt of our intentions. The coming
battle was much discussed in Germany.

General von Armin (Commander of the German 4th Army) was to remain
strictly on the defensive.

He was to “put in time,” to “poke,” in fact, until the big movement of
troops from the East should have thoroughly reconstituted the Western
Front.

We were to be allowed to waste our time and our forces in petty gains
of unimportant territory, and to eat our hearts out in the slough.

To this end, and because the waterlogged soil of Flanders did not allow
of the making of another Siegfried Line, the enemy had devised a new
tactical method.

Directly the theory of this method is understood, many of the once
puzzling circumstances of this battle become comprehensible.

It involved the use of but one comparatively new contrivance, the
“pill-box.” The “pill-box,” first seen at Messines, was a small
concrete fort. Sometimes it only stood up a yard or two above the
ground. More often it stood well up, concealed within the ruins of a
derelict farm.

It held a garrison of anything up to thirty or forty men, and bristled
with machine-guns.

The tactics themselves in which the pill-boxes figured are admirably
described by Mr. Buchan:

  “The enemy’s plan was to hold his first line--which was often a
  mere string of shell-craters linked by a trench--with a few men,
  who would fall back before an assault. He had his guns well behind,
  so that they should not be captured in the first rush, and would
  be available for a barrage when his opponents were entangled in
  the ‘pill-box’ zone. Finally, he had his reserves in the second
  line, ready for the counterstroke before the assault could secure
  the ground won.... Any attack would be allowed to make some
  advance; but if the German plan worked well, this advance would be
  short-lived, and would be dearly paid for. Instead of the cast-iron
  front of the Siegfried area, the Flanders line would be highly
  elastic, but would spring back into position after pressure with a
  deadly rebound.”

The thoroughness and success with which this plan was carried out may
be read in the story of Glencorse Wood, of St. Julien, and of many
another bitterly fought “Minor Action.”

In the meantime, the enemy watched us from his vantage ground, and day
and night harassed us with his shelling, his aerial bombing, and his
gas.


III

On our side the preparations for a formidable attack continued steadily.

  [32]“The various problems inseparable from the mounting of a great
  offensive, the improvement and construction of roads and railways,
  the provision of an adequate water supply and of accommodation for
  troops, the formation of dumps, the digging of dug-outs, subways
  and trenches, and the assembling and registering of guns, had
  all to be met and overcome in the new theatre of battle, under
  conditions of more than ordinary disadvantage.

  “On no previous occasion, not excepting the attack on the
  Messines-Wytschaete Ridge, had the whole of the ground from
  which we had to attack been so completely exposed to the enemy’s
  observation. Even after the enemy had been driven from the
  Messines-Wytschaete Ridge, he still possessed excellent direct
  observations over the Salient from the east and south-east, as well
  as from the Pilckem Ridge to the north. Nothing existed at Ypres
  to correspond with the vast caves and cellars which proved of such
  value in the days prior to the Arras battle, and the provision of
  shelter for the troops presented a very serious problem.”

It was a problem which in some sectors proved insoluble, and troops and
working parties had to come up night by night into the forward area,
going back far behind the lines at dawn.

Like their fellows of every other arm, members of the Tank Corps
carried out their battle preparations under conditions of peculiar
difficulty.

But the 1st Brigade of Tanks had something more than indiscriminate
harassing fire and “area shoots” to trouble them.

The enemy had obtained information of our tankodrome in Oosthoek Wood
from a British prisoner, who was either a garrulous fool or a very
treacherous knave.

A soldier belonging to a certain infantry regiment, had betrayed every
detail of the whereabouts of the Tanks of the 1st Brigade, and of the
programme of their movements. A German document was captured setting
forth the whole of this creature’s evidence and explaining its value
and significance. The official account of this murderous piece of
treachery was periodically read out on parade to all Tank units, and
formed the text of many discourses on the vital importance of strict
secrecy and high _moral_. The name of this man will for ever have a
sinister sound for all who served in the Tank Corps.

Fortunately for us, the Germans seem to have but half believed his
story--at any rate, the shelling to which they thereafter periodically
subjected the secret tankodrome was, though accurate, never so heavy
as such an important target would have seemed to warrant. Perhaps the
Germans, having no illusions as to what fighting in Flanders meant, and
being reasonably alive to the natural limitations of Tanks, scouted
the idea of a Tank attack being possible or being even seriously
contemplated. Be that as it may, they certainly failed to act on the
very valuable information given them in anything like an adequate way.

Still, after some days of well-directed shelling and bombing, it was
decided to withdraw the whole of the personnel from Oosthoek Wood, and
to lodge them in camps in the plantations just north of Château Lovie,
where the Headquarters of the 1st Brigade was already established.

Hither, too, had come the Advanced Headquarters of the Tank Corps,
the original intention of occupying a most eligible house in the town
of Poperinghe being given up, in view of the inconvenience caused by
the periodic shelling of the place and the consequent interruption of
communications.

The advance Reconnaissance party had spent some weeks in the town, and
had been considerably annoyed by frequent and accurate high-velocity
shelling.

The concentration of personnel which thus came about seemed
inconvenient enough at first, but turned out most usefully, and liaison
between the Brigade and its battalions had never been so good.

There were forward dumps to be established with the aid of the supply
Tanks.[33]

Very special preparations had to be made in order to bring the Tanks
within striking distance of the enemy. The roads were reserved for
lighter traffic. The enemy shelling was too heavy for railway making to
be possible beyond the detraining camps at Oosthoek Wood.

Tentative attempts to push the line further on were constantly made,
and as constantly detected and discouraged by the enemy.

The Tanks must have some sort of independent routes of their own over
the innumerable small waterways that must be crossed.

The Kemmelbeke, the Lambardtheke, and in some places the Yser Canal,
all lay in the way. Miles of rough causeways over the marshes had to be
built; splinter-proof shelters for the various advanced Headquarters,
and, further back, camps, Tank “stables,” storage sheds, kitchens and
so forth, had all to be constructed.

Such a programme of work was beyond the unaided power of the Tank
Corps, and therefore the 184th Tunnelling Company was allotted to the
Corps, one section to each Brigade.

Much of the canal bridging and of the track making was done under fire,
shrapnel, gas and H.E.

Often a series of shells, bursting on the newly laid causeway would
undo a day’s work in a few minutes. Half the time the men had to wear
gas-masks, and almost always they worked knee-deep in liquid mud or in
the oozy bed of some little “beke.”

Yet in no instance did the 184th Tunnelling Company fail to carry out
the work allotted to it.

One very ingenious piece of mechanism for use on the Tank itself had
been evolved at Central Workshops in view of the Flanders mud. This was
the “Unditching Beam.” It was a massive baulk of teak, iron shod at the
ends, and having heavy chains whereby it might be secured to the tracks
when it was needed.

Its length was somewhat greater than the width of the Tank over its
tracks, and therefore ordinarily it was carried lengthwise along the
back of the machine.

Its battle position was across the Tank, where it rested on the raised
guide-rails which served to lift it clear of the conning-tower, the
silencer and the other excrescences above the armoured back.

To these guide-rails it was secured by special holdfasts to prevent
it from breaking adrift when the Tank pitched or rolled amongst the
shell-holes.

When the Tank got “bellied,” these holdfasts had to be released and
the drag-chains attached to the tracks by one of the crew climbing out
on to the roof--the feat being one of some danger when in the near
presence of the enemy.

The beam having been duly attached, the differential gear would be
locked and the clutch released, when the revolving tracks would carry
the beam over the nose of the Tank, from which it would dangle by its
two track-chains until dragged beneath the Tank itself.

If the ground proved loose and boggy beyond a certain point, the beam
would merely be dragged under the Tank to come up again behind, clogged
and dripping with mud and leaving the “ditched” Tank still wallowing on
its belly.

Sometimes Tanks would thrash away with their unditching beams until
their vain efforts to struggle out of some quaking quagmire on to
better ground overheated the engines or caused the machine to settle
down so hopelessly in the oozing mud as to be flooded out.

Save on the very worst ground, however, the unditching beam proved a
most effective contrivance, and but little could have been done in the
Ypres fighting without it.

[Illustration: A FLANDERS PILL-BOX]

[Illustration: THE UNDITCHING BEAM IN ACTION]

[Illustration: THE STEENBECK VALLEY BEFORE THE BATTLE]

[Illustration: THE STEENBECK VALLEY AFTER BOMBARDMENT]


IV

The Reconnaissance Side had also been busy during the weeks of
preparation.

To facilitate the movement of Tanks over the battlefield a new system
was made use of, by which a list of compass bearings from well-defined
points to a number of features in the enemy’s territory was prepared,
thus enabling direction to be picked up.

This system was to prove invaluable when, later, the tides of battle
had obliterated all the nearer landmarks, and men wandered hopelessly
lost in the increasing desolation.

The Reconnaissance Officers’ methods of observation did not differ from
those they had employed at Arras.

They used artillery O.P.’s, they flew over the enemy lines, a “supply
of prisoners” for special examination was allotted to them, they talked
to refugees, they observed, made and annotated maps, and drew many
panoramas, and made detailed raised maps in plasticine.

By early July they had collected a great mass of information that was
not only vitally important to the Tank Corps, but also of great use to
the other arms.

Very carefully constructed from information collected from all sources,
a huge sand model was laid out by the 19th Corps in Oosthoek Wood.
Every hillock or depression, every road, railway, trench, stream, ruin,
spinney, or other landmark, was faithfully reproduced to scale. The
miniature trenches were formed in lengths of cast concrete, the trees
were represented by little evergreen bushes, and real water lay in the
pools and shallows of the Lilliputian Steenbeek.

The model covered nearly an acre--a man to the same scale would have
been about the size of a normal mouse.

At one side of the model was a high wooden platform raised on a
scaffolding and reached by a ladder, and from this point of vantage
this Ypres Salient in little could be overlooked and memorised as from
a kite balloon.

For several weeks before the day appointed for the battle, the platform
was almost constantly occupied by groups of officers. Indeed, it was
seldom unoccupied during daylight from the time it was erected to the
eve of the great attack, and round and across the model perpetually
wandered little groups of officers and N.C.O.’s with maps and notebooks
and orders--discussing, pointing, explaining. Generals personally
conducted their immediate subordinates over the mimic battlefield,
whilst N.C.O.’s were coached by their Company Commanders.

From a liaison point of view the model was invaluable. Individual Tank
Commanders there met the infantry officers with whom they were actually
to fight, and would walk and talk over “the ground” together, until
they were perfectly clear about their own and each other’s rôles,
routes, objectives and time-tables, after which mutual esteem and
confidence would be cemented and reinforced at the dinner table.

In this and similar ways a close and cordial _entente_ was established
between the Tanks and their partners the infantry, and there were many
battlefield incidents that showed vividly how much success depended on
this personal liaison and good fellowship.


V

There was to be nothing novel in our general plan of assault.

  [34] “The 5th Army attack was to be carried out on well-recognised
  lines; namely, a lengthy artillery preparation followed by an
  infantry attack on a large scale and infantry exploitation until
  resistance became severe, when the advance would be halted and
  a further organised attack prepared on the same scale. This
  methodical progression was to be continued until the exhaustion of
  the German reserves and _moral_ created a situation which would
  enable a complete break through to be effected.”

Tanks were everywhere to be auxiliary, and were to be employed to deal
with strong points and for “mopping up” behind the infantry.

There was, however, one great improvement in the method of using them.

They were to be used in definite “waves.” That is to say, supposing
thirty-six Tanks were to be employed on a sector where the Germans had
established the usual three lines of defence, twelve Tanks would start
at zero and be used to take the first objective. Meanwhile, the second
wave would have been advancing, and as soon as the first objective had
been taken by the first wave, the second wave would pass through them
and on to the second objective. The third party of twelve would advance
in the same way--a wave to each objective.

The method did not, as a matter of fact, have a good trial on this
occasion, for, in the first place, the Tanks’ first objective was only
the infantry second objective; and as we have seen, the enemy did not
this time employ his usual method of three set lines at all.

Altogether three Brigades of Tanks were to be employed with the 5th
Army.

Tank Brigade Commanders were to keep in touch with Corps Commanders,
Tank Battalions were to act with Divisions, Tank Companies (twelve
fighting Tanks) with Brigades, and individual Tanks with Battalions.

The three Brigades were to be distributed as follows:--

    A. _2nd Corps_ (consisting of the 24th, 30th, 18th, 8th and
          25th Divisions).

       _2nd Tank Brigade_ (“A” and “B” Battalions).

       72 Tanks to be allotted as follows:--

        1st Objective        16
        2nd    ”             24
        3rd    ”             24
        The remainder to be held in reserve.

The main objective was to be the Broodseinde Ridge.

The ground in this area was broken by swamps and woods; only three
approaches were possible for Tanks, and these formed dangerous defiles.

    B. _19th Corps_ (consisting of the 15th, 55th, 16th and 36th
          Divisions).

       _3rd Tank Brigade_ (“C” and “F” Battalions).

       72 Tanks to be arranged as follows:--

        1st Objective        24
        2nd    ”             24
        Reserve              24

The main objective was to be a section of the Gheluvelt-Langemarck line.

On the 19th Corps front the valley of the Steenbeek was in a terrible
condition, innumerable shell-holes and pools of water existed, the
drainage of the Steenbeek having been seriously affected by the
shelling.

    C. _18th Corps_ (consisting of the 39th, 51st, 11th and 48th
          Divisions).

       _1st Tank Brigade_ (“D” and “G” Battalions).

       36 Tanks to be allotted thus:--

        1st Objective        12
        2nd    ”             12
        Corps Reserve        12

They were to seize the crossings of the Steenbeek and establish posts
beyond it.

On the 18th Corps front the ground between our front line and Steenbeek
was cut up and sodden. The Steenbeek itself was a difficult obstacle,
and the only good crossing was at St. Julien, thus forming a dangerous
defile.

Thirty-six Tanks belonging to the 1st Brigade were held in Army Reserve.

Such was the battle order of the Tanks.

Zero was fixed for 3.30 a.m. on July 31. By the last week in July misty
weather with often a drizzle of rain at night had set in.

Our preparations were complete, but it was perhaps not without
a certain anxiety that our commanders awaited the issues of the
engagement.

By none might such an uneasiness have been felt with better reason than
by General Elles.

The Army had staked much upon a gamble, but at least it had not been
forced to stake its prestige. General Elles must have been conscious
that the very existence of the Tank Corps might hang upon the fortunes
of the coming attack.




CHAPTER IX

THE THIRD BATTLE OF YPRES

    “Quenched in a boggy Syrtis, neither sea
    Nor good dry land--nigh foundered, on he fares,
    Treading the crude consistence; half on foot.”

                                        _Paradise Lost._


The night of July 30 was dark and wet, and towards morning a fine
mizzling rain blurred the outlines of the star shells that lit up the
lines. Along fifteen miles of front the English and German guns had
roared against each other all night.

The waiting men shivered in their wet assembly trenches.

About three o’clock on the morning of the 31st there was a lull in
the firing. A low soaking blanket of Scotch mist had crept up and lay
heavily enfolding the opposing armies. Zero hour was drawing near. All
along the front, men were feeling for the little footholds above the
fire-step.

At 3.50 the streaming darkness was rent along the seven miles of
attack. Thermite and blazing oil flared out, and such a barrage as had
not yet been crashed upon the enemy’s line, and infantry and Tanks
scrambled and lurched in the darkness in and out of shell-holes over
the torn and slimy ground.

The German front line fell at once along the whole seven miles. Until
nearly eight o’clock men and Tanks could hardly get through the mud
fast enough to come to grips with the enemy. On each Corps front there
were many machines that got ditched on the enemy front line as they
nosed about here and there, seeking to mop up lurking machine-gun nests
and snipers.

There some of them remained stuck fast, not having seen the main body
of the enemy at all, so immediate had been his retreat.

His artillery was, however, active enough, and as the Tanks floundered
or stuck utterly in the mud, his guns and his low-flying aeroplanes
took steady toll.

All morning we pressed on, the enemy Command patiently conserving the
power of its armies.

The doings of a group of Tanks belonging to the 3rd Brigade give
an extraordinarily good idea of this part of the action. They were
fighting on the 19th Corps front.

  [35]“At 11.30 a.m. message was received that a Battalion of Argyll
  and Sutherland Highlanders were held up on the right. Tank ‘Canada’
  moved in this direction and silenced enemy machine-guns in the
  Railway Embankment, assisted by the Tank ‘Cuidich’n Rich.’ When
  patrolling in front of the infantry whilst they were consolidating,
  Tank bellied.

  “At the same time enemy barrage came down, and both Tank ‘Canada’
  and Tank ‘Cuidich’n Rich’ received direct hits. Five of the
  crew remained with the infantry, and assisted in repelling a
  counter-attack, two of the men being wounded.

  “... Tank ‘Cape Colony’ arrived at Low Farm and proceeded in front
  of the infantry. Came under heavy shell-fire and bellied. Whilst
  unditching, Tanks ‘Cyprus’ and ‘Culloden’ were observed under heavy
  fire from anti-Tank guns, which were in position on the high ground
  beyond. Both ‘Cyprus’ and ‘Culloden’ were seen to be hit.

  “‘Cape Colony’ then came under heavy M.G. fire from both flanks.
  On request of infantry ‘Cape Colony’ proceeded to a wood on right
  flank, where they were held up.

  “Although not fired upon from the Tank, several enemy
  machine-gunners surrendered to the infantry, on seeing the Tank
  approach. ‘Cape Colony’ now turned N.E. towards Beck House, where a
  good view of anti-Tank guns, which had been shelling ‘Cyprus’ and
  ‘Culloden,’ was obtained. Whilst manœuvring to take these guns in
  flank or rear, the Tank sank in a swamp, water rising to the engine
  cover. Boche aeroplanes circled low overhead whilst unsuccessful
  attempts were made to unditch. Enemy shelling then became very
  heavy, so Lewis guns were taken out and Tank locked up.

  “... Flag Tank ‘Cumbrae’ was delayed half an hour by bellying in
  a trench near Bill Cottage, went in front of the infantry towards
  second objective. Opened fire on enemy who were disappearing in
  direction of Delva Farm. Ground was quite water-logged, and Tank
  bellied in a borrow pit. Whilst digging out was fired at by a
  sniper, and by an aeroplane flying low overhead. Time was then zero
  plus 9 hours (_i.e._, 12.50 p.m.).

  “... Tank ‘Caithness’ came under sniper and machine-gun fire near
  Beck House. No bullets penetrated armour-plating. Proceeded in
  company with Tank ‘Carstairs,’ which silenced enemy M.G. fire.
  Cameron Highlanders then advanced, and Tank followed, bellied near
  Zonnebeke Stream. Mud was up to floor level and door of sponson was
  pushed off its hinges. Enemy aeroplane circled overhead, and fired
  on them whilst attempting to unditch. Eventually Tank ‘Carstairs’
  came to the rescue, and Tank was got clear.

  “... Tank ‘Culloden’ had her unditching gear carried away by barbed
  wire near Hill Cottage. Unditching beam was recovered, but again
  broke lose, until secured with rope. Just west of Frost House
  shell burst under front of Tank. Whilst crossing light railway
  half-way between Frost House and Square Farm, a second shell hit
  roof door and killed one gunner. Tank stopped, and it was found
  petrol pressure pipe was cut. Time 9.15 a.m. A third shell struck
  behind right sponson. Crew were withdrawn from Tank, and took up
  a position in shell-holes near Square Farm. Tank was still being
  shelled, undoubtedly by an anti-Tank gun, about ten shells being
  fired at it in five minutes, six of which hit the Tank.

  “Tank ‘Cyprus’ was then seen to be hit by the same anti-Tank gun.
  At 10.15 a.m. survivors of Tanks ‘Culloden’ and ‘Cyprus,’ together
  with undamaged Lewis guns, withdrew to Battalion Rallying Point,
  after pigeon messages had been despatched reporting the situation.

  “... Tank ‘Carstairs’ arrived at Black Line near Beck House, but
  infantry had not then arrived.

  “Tank soon bellied in boggy ground, but was unditched successfully.
  Just west of Borry Farm Tank ‘Caithness’ was found badly bellied,
  and with unditching gear lost.

  “Having been informed by 6th Cameron Highlanders that the second
  objective had been captured, Tank ‘Carstairs’ hitched on to Tank
  ‘Caithness’ and towed it out. Enemy shell-fire was extremely heavy,
  and an aeroplane flew over, firing at crew with machine-guns during
  the operation.

  “Instructions were then received to return to Battalion Rallying
  Point.”

Another very gallant action was fought by a Tank crew also belonging to
this Battalion.

They started the battle in a Tank named “Ca’ Canny” under command of
Lieutenant H. P. M. Jones, who was killed near Wilde Wood. The crew
carried on under command of Corporal Jenkins until about 11 p.m., when
the Tank “bellied” hopelessly. Corporal Jenkins withdrew his Lewis guns
and crew, and, placing some of them on the top of the Tank and some
on the ground, kept up an effective fire on the enemy, who were then
attempting a small counter-attack.

He then transferred his men to another Tank, “Clyde,” whose crew
had all been wounded. They fought this Tank for a further two hours,
but at about three o’clock “Clyde,” too, stuck in the mud and proved
inextricable. He and his crew then returned on foot to their Battalion
Rallying Point.

With the 18th Corps, the 1st Brigade Tanks were on several occasions
signalled for by fairly distant parties of infantry, who proceeded
to “set” them at strong points that were giving trouble. This system
worked extremely well, and had a particularly impressive moral effect
on the enemy. Several occasions are recorded on which enemy garrisons
did not wait for the Tank which had been thus “whistled up” to get near
enough to fire, but surrendered as soon as they saw it coming.

Our advance had continued for about ten hours, that is, till nearly
three in the afternoon, when our enterprise seemed to have succeeded.

As early as nine in the morning we held the whole of our second
objective north of Westhoek.

By the afternoon we had entered St. Julien, Frezenberg and the Pommern
Redoubt, and had taken the crossings of the Steenbeek and Stirling
Castle.

Glencorse Wood and Inverness Copse had proved more difficult, but even
here we held a footing on the ridge.

We had “riven the oak,” we were now to feel the force of the rebound.

That afternoon in a downpour of rain the enemy counter-attacked along
the fronts of all three Corps. There was a fierce struggle, in which in
many instances Tanks were able to do a good deal of execution.

We were shelled out of St. Julien. North of it we withdrew to the line
of the Steenbeek, and we were obliged to fall back from all but the
western outskirts of Westhoek.

All afternoon we slowly lost ground, yet when night fell we could still
boast a battle well begun. It was, after all, never meant to be a
one-day attack, and to-morrow we should start well. We had everywhere
taken and held our first objective, that is, the low muddy ridge from
which the enemy had so closely threatened the original Ypres arena.

The second flat valley and the higher ridge from Passchendaele to
Staden now lay before us.

At least we were in a good position for to-morrow’s attack. Mr. Buchan
thus in effect analyses our gains:

Along two-thirds of our line of attack we held our first objectives. On
half of the remaining third we had only fallen just short of our final
objective. On the remaining sixth we had even slightly exceeded our
final objective. We had besides taken 6000 prisoners and a quantity of
machine-guns.


II

All that night the enemy counter-attacked us doggedly, resolved upon
driving us down again. All night we fought to keep what we had won, and
prepared the redoubled blow that we meant to deliver next day.

That blow was destined never to be struck. The wind that brought the
rain blew out our hopes of victory.

  [36] “The weather had been threatening throughout the [first] day,
  and had rendered the work of our aeroplanes very difficult from the
  commencement of the battle. During the afternoon, while fighting
  was still in progress, rain began, and fell steadily all night.

  “Thereafter, for four days, the rain continued without
  cessation.... The low-lying, clayey soil, torn by shells and sodden
  with rain, turned to a succession of vast muddy pools. The valleys
  of the choked and overflowing streams were speedily transformed
  into long stretches of bog, impassable except by a few well-defined
  tracks, which became marks for the enemy’s artillery. To leave
  these tracks was to risk death by drowning, and in the course of
  the subsequent fighting on several occasions both men and pack
  animals were lost in this way. In these conditions operations
  of any magnitude became impossible, and the resumption of our
  offensive was necessarily postponed until a period of fine weather
  should allow the ground to recover. As had been the case in the
  Arras battle, this unavoidable delay in the development of our
  offensive was of the greatest service to the enemy. Valuable time
  was lost, the troops opposed to us were able to recover from the
  disorganisation produced by our first attack, and the enemy was
  given the opportunity to bring up reinforcements.”

It was nearly a fortnight before the 5th Army could again attack.

The disappointment of the Higher Command was acute; acute, too, were
the physical and mental miseries suffered during that fortnight by the
Tank Corps and all the other arms engaged.

Their magnificent efforts, their sacrifices, were of no avail. There
they lay day after day, drenched by the inexorable rain, those in the
forward area half choked in the rising streams of liquid mud.

It was in no sunny frame of mind that the 5th Army Headquarters Staff
read the verdict of the three Corps upon the day’s work done by the
Tanks.

The three Summaries were agreed that the courage and perseverance shown
by Tank personnel had been admirable.

[Illustration: A DEADLY SWAMP (THE WRECKS OF SIX TANKS MAY BE COUNTED)]

[Illustration: “CLAPHAM JUNCTION” NEAR SANCTUARY WOOD]

[Illustration: “THE SALIENT”]

One Corps, however, had given way thoroughly to the spirit of the
time. They practically reported that Tanks had been of no use to
any one, and moreover that they were never likely to be. With the
30th Division they had been unable to deal with certain machine-gun
emplacement; with the 24th they had been late, they always drew enemy
shell-fire; and with the 8th Division one Tank had even lost direction
and been reported as firing on our own men.

Another Corps had found Tanks helpful, and said all they could for them.

Tanks had greatly assisted the Gordons and Black Watch at Frezenberg,
they had dealt effectively with concrete dug-outs; with the 55th
Division they had broken the wave of an enemy counter-attack at
Winnipeg, and everywhere their moral effect on the enemy had been of
great assistance. Twenty-four Tanks had been put out of action by bad
going or shell-fire.

A third Corps with fewer machines had in many cases reached their
objective without being held up. The Tanks had in these cases merely
followed the infantry, but they reported that without Tanks the capture
of the strongly wired position of Alberta would have cost the 39th
Division dear, and that on the Steenbeek near Ferdinand Farm the enemy,
who had bolted at the mere sight of a Tank, had been “dealt with” at
ease with a machine-gun by infantry of the 51st Division.

Upon these Summaries and upon later failures the Commander of the 5th
Army was subsequently to base a generally unfavourable report upon
Tanks.

The report may be condensed into a simple syllogism:--

  1. Tanks were unable to negotiate bad ground.

  2. The ground on a battlefield will always be bad.

  3. Therefore Tanks are no good on a battlefield.

He added to this, that being no longer a surprise to the enemy, he
considered that Tanks had lost their moral effect, and had no value
used in masses.

This report was not officially presented for some weeks, but the Higher
Tank Command must early have perceived the drift of affairs. The events
of the first day and the manner in which those events were interpreted
gave only too much data to the prophetic spirit. The junior Tank
personnel knew little of what was going on. Like Burns’s mouse, they
were only touched by the present, the throwing away of what had cost
them so many weeks of toil. To the Higher Tank Command was reserved
Burns’s own fate:

    “But, och! I backward cast my ee
                  On prospects drear!
    And forward, tho’ I canna see,
                  I guess and fear.”

What would be the results of the initial ill-success of the battle,
and of the further Tank failures which seemed only too probable when
an advance which had begun so ill was continued, after perhaps two or
three inches more rain?

How were the final arbiters, G.H.Q. and the War Cabinet, going
to regard such failures? Tanks had been employed under grotesque
conditions, and after all, they had failed in common with every other
arm. Were the events of the next few weeks to be disastrous enough to
consign them irrevocably to Bottomless Perdition?

At best their hopes of expansion would most probably be nipped. Their
establishment would be reduced, and Tanks would be used in _petits
paquets_ again, by ones and twos as they had been in the past, because,
once more, there would never be enough machines for an effective
action.

As the days wore on, and the rain continued (at the rate often of an
inch a day), one of these alternative fates seemed inevitable.

The gloomy surmises of the Tank Headquarters Staff were only too well
founded. The authorities were in fact suffering from one of the worst
cold fits which the pilots of the Tank Corps at home and abroad ever
endured.

Tank Corps Headquarters heard it all. They knew well enough that in
well-informed but irresponsible London circles the remark, “I hear the
Tanks are going to be abolished,” was a common one; that often in such
gossip circumstances of person and date would be added.

For all this they had no certain refutation. If only Tanks could
even now do something that would catch the eye of authority. Some
little “show” exploit. Something that would at least make a summary
condemnation unlikely. The battle would have to be continued some
day. Tanks would have to play their part, but in that intolerable
swamp was it likely that they would do anything except engulf
themselves--literally and metaphorically--yet deeper than before?

There, however, lay the Tanks’ best hope. Chance and their own
exertions might bring them a success even in Flanders.


III

Thirty-six Tanks belonging to the 1st Brigade had remained in Army
Reserve. On August 16, the weather having been less wet for a day or
two, the first and most considerable of a series of renewed attacks was
to be made.

Twelve Tanks were to co-operate with the infantry on the Langemarck-St.
Julien front.

On the night of the 13th the Tanks began to move up. The roads were
already congested with other traffic, and the Tanks were not to be
allowed to make use of them.

  [37]“The country they had to traverse was all very deep in mud,
  and the Tanks wallowed on their bellies in ground too soft for the
  tracks to hold. The approach was continued during the following
  night, but in spite of the repeated use of unditching beams,
  the mutual help of Tanks in towing each other, and the valuable
  assistance of a Tunnelling Company, it was recognised on the 15th
  that none but the four leading Tanks could hope to reach the line
  in time to take part in the battle. These four made strenuous
  efforts to complete the journey the next night, but without
  success. None of them could overcome the difficulties of the
  ground, and the infantry had to go into attack without them.”

The infantry attacked, and after the action a nest of pill-box
strongholds north-east of St. Julien still remained untaken.

Like most of these little fortresses, they had been extremely skilfully
placed. An unwary advance would be trapped in their wire just within
convenient range of their machine-guns.

They were so small, scattered, and well concealed as to be almost
impossible targets for heavy guns, and as they were built of reinforced
concrete at least three feet thick, the ordinary high-explosive shell
thrown by a field gun had no effect upon them.

This particular nest consisted of four pill-boxes of more than average
size.

Three of them were hidden in the ruins of farmsteads. That in the
Mont du Hibou was manned by a garrison of about eighty men, and the
Cockcroft was still more strongly held. Triangle Farm and Hillock Farm
were slightly smaller. It was essential that they should be taken, and
General Sir Ivor Maxse, commanding the 18th Corps, was informed by the
Brigadiers concerned that their capture would probably cost us 600 to
1000 casualties. He and Colonel Baker-Carr (commanding 1st Brigade of
Tanks) then considered the possibility of a Tank attack.

Colonel Baker-Carr, admirably undismayed by the dismal events of the
16th, optimistically guaranteed the fortresses at half the estimated
cost to the infantry, and the attack was arranged. One innovation he
specially asked for. There was to be no shelling, but he was to be
granted the concealment of a smoke barrage. Having once decided to
entrust the affair to the Tanks, General Maxse was zealous to give them
every possible chance of success and did not hesitate to modify his
orders to suit their considered demands. Only twelve Tanks were to be
employed, and they and their infantry were to use the roads for as far
as these served them. Colonel Baker-Carr decided to form a composite
Company from “G” (7th) Battalion under the command of Major Broome.

The resulting action, small as were the numbers engaged, will ever find
a place in the annals of the Tank Corps.

  [38]“In spite of the appalling condition of the ground, for it had
  now been raining steadily for three weeks, a very memorable feat of
  arms was achieved.”

The four strong points were triumphantly captured.

  [39]“Phenomenal results were obtained at very little cost, for
  instead of 600 to 1000 casualties, the infantry following the Tanks
  only sustained fifteen!”

At 4.45 a.m. on the morning of August 19, the artillery isolated the
doomed strongholds in clouds of dense smoke.

The action had been carefully rehearsed. Two Tanks were to be used
against each pill-box, and they were to take them in rear, so striking
where the forts were most vulnerable, and at the same time cutting off
the garrison’s retreat.

Just before six o’clock the enveloping manœuvre was complete, and the
first pill-box--Hillock Farm--fell, nearly all its garrison having fled.

At 6.15 two Tanks reached the Mont du Hibou, and fired forty rounds
from their 6-pounder guns into the back door of the stronghold. Sixty
of the garrison fled, of whom about half escaped or were shot down, and
the rest surrendered to the infantry as soon as it came up.

Triangle Farm fell ten minutes afterwards. The garrison had put up a
fight against the Tanks and our infantry killed them all, mostly with
the bayonet.

At the Cockcroft the attacking Tank[40] got ditched within fifty yards
of its victim. But at sight of it the garrison of over 100 “withdrew.”
The Tank and its infantry immediately opened fire with their Lewis
guns, and more than half the fugitives fell.

  [41]“Our infantry then consolidated the Cockcroft. This completed
  the capture of all objectives.

  “The Tanks waited till consolidation was well forward before
  returning.

  “_Casualties_--Infantry: no killed, 15 wounded.

  “Tank Personnel--Killed: Officers, none; other Ranks, 2. Wounded:
  Officers, 2; other Ranks, 10.”

In one of the strong points we found a German officer who had been
hanged by his men.

The St. Julien attack, as it was afterwards called, proved a sufficient
counterblast to the 5th Army report.

The friends of the Tank Corps made the most of it. It was a brilliant
little exploit, and once brought to notice, the casualty figures
pleaded too loudly to be ignored.

It is probably no exaggeration to say that it was in some measure to
the Tanks which won the little Battle of St. Julien that the Tank Corps
owed the opportunity of winning the Battle of Cambrai.


IV

From August 22 till October 9, by which time hope of British success
at Ypres had been more or less abandoned, the Tanks fought in about
a dozen minor actions. They made almost as many more unavailing
attempts to fight. Like the rest of the Army, they spent much vain
labour and knew the weariness of much frustrated effort. They made
elaborate and toilsome movements in preparation for attacks which were
never launched. They struggled night after night to get up to some
battle which eventually had to take place without them. Tanks had now
invariably to move upon the roads, as the ground between had finally
and definitely been reduced to impassable swamp. The roads naturally
formed standing targets for the German gunners. We lost heavily in men
and machines. General Elles had originally estimated that one machine
in two would get into effective action. Now, in view of the appalling
ground conditions, he revised this, only reckoning on one machine in
ten getting into effective contact with the enemy. This modest estimate
was as a matter of fact seldom exceeded.

Whenever Tanks did get into action, however, they usually did well,
though rarely decisively, in spite of the standard of extraordinary
courage which was steadfastly maintained by the crews.

The briefest review of most of these depressing little engagements
is all that need be given. They were remarkable for nothing except
the heroic patience shown day after day by every arm of our attacking
forces.

On August 22 a minor attack was launched by all three Corps. Small
parties of Tanks fought with each.

With the _2nd Corps_ in Glencorse Wood four Tanks of the 2nd Brigade
were of some service, and did considerable execution.

With the _19th Corps_ eighteen Tanks of the 3rd Brigade were used
on the off-chance of their being able to reach the objectives.
The going was more than ordinarily atrocious, the whole of the
Frezenberg-Zonnebeke road having been shot away. One Tank fought a very
remarkable action, engaging the enemy near “Gallipoli” for sixty-eight
hours.

With the _18th Corps_ twelve Tanks of the 1st Brigade headed an attack
on Bülow Farm, Vancouver, Winnipeg, and other strong points. They
proved useful, and several Tanks were in action for longish periods.

Two things are remarkable about this operation: first, that every Tank
which ventured to leave the road instantly bellied. One was “drowned”
in six or seven feet of water.

Secondly, the remarkable way in which they affected enemy _moral_. In
several instances parties of the enemy surrendered at the sight of
them. Prisoners in their examination said that they could have held up
infantry, but “felt helpless against Tanks.”

Next day, on August 23, four 2nd Brigade Tanks went into action near
Inverness Copse. The operation had had to be undertaken in a hurry,
liaison was bad, and the attack a failure.

On August 26 four Tanks fought with the 33rd Division in the
neighbourhood of Jerk House (near Glencorse Wood). The morning was
misty, and an enemy shell unfortunately exploded a dump of smoke bombs
just behind our lines. The attack was a failure. That night an inch of
rain fell, and four Tanks which were to have operated with the 14th
Division next day, August 27th, never reached their starting-point.
Thirteen men were wounded and an officer killed on the way up.

Nearly three weeks elapsed before Tanks were again in action, and
several battalions from the 2nd and 3rd Brigades were moved back to a
new training area near Arras. A certain number of “Replacement Tanks”
were issued to remaining battalions. The 1st Brigade stood ready in
case they should be wanted at short notice, but no attacks of any
sort were launched, probably partly on account of weather, and partly
because a section of the 5th Army front was in process of transfer to
the 2nd Army.

By the middle of September the relief had been completed, and again we
endeavoured to press on.

On September 20 a fairly successful assault was made along the whole
line. 2nd Brigade Tanks took part near Inverness Copse, and 1st Brigade
Tanks near Triangle and Wurst Farms. But the ground being known to be
unusually appalling in both areas, they had been given minor parts.
These parts they played with fair success, and they undoubtedly scared
the enemy a good deal. On the 18th Corps front 3rd Battalion Tanks had
rather better luck.

The efforts made by the crews to get to the battle at all were
superhuman.

Trees had been felled across the road by the enemy, resting breast
high on their branches and the tall stumps from which they were not
completely severed. At Wurst Farm also this kind of obstacle had been
opposed to the Tanks--the butts of the trees lying obliquely and at a
slope, forming a barrier very difficult to surmount.

If one leading machine got into difficulties struggling in the dark
through or over these obstacles, the whole string of Tanks behind would
be hung up, the deep swamps on either hand making it impossible to
leave the road.

The Tanks, however, arrived, and are reported to have “inflicted many
casualties.”

On September 26 fifteen Tanks operated near Zonnebeke Village. The
attack was not a success, though the Tanks did a great deal of good
work.

On October 4 took place the last two actions of this battle in which
Tanks succeeded in playing a part. The first was fought by twelve Tanks
of the 1st Brigade, who had the honour of taking part in the capture of
Poelcapelle. It was a most successful little attack, and after reducing
three strong points which guarded the outskirts, the Tanks hunted
through the main street and out beyond the village.

In the other action four Tanks of the 1st Battalion were to take part
in an attack upon Juniper Cottage on the line of the Reutelbeek.

Not only was this, like the other, a successful little action, it was
ennobled by affording the background to one of the most patiently
courageous actions of the War.

It was on October 4 that Captain Robertson fell upon completing a
service for which he was posthumously awarded the V.C.

Tanks and infantry were to endeavour to cross the Reutelbeek and drive
the enemy from the positions which they held on the further bank.

There was only one bridge over the marshy stream. If, in the half-light
of the early morning and in the confusion of battle, they missed this
crossing-place, their one chance of success was gone.

Captain Robertson, the officer commanding the section of Tanks,
early realised that here lay the crux of the little operation for
whose success he was responsible. For three days and nights he and
his servant, Private Allen (subsequently awarded the D.C.M.), went
carefully backwards and forwards over the ground under heavy fire,
taping the routes for the Tanks.

Working without a break, this task took him until half-past nine on the
night before the action.

It was time to get the machines up.

He started out at once again with his Tanks. The weather was dark and
misty, and from inside a Tank it was impossible to see the way over the
heavily shelled ground. Captain Robertson therefore walked ahead; they
reached the assembly point in good time, and at 6 a.m. on October 4 he
led them into action.

In imagining the rest of the story we are to remember that Captain
Robertson had already been continuously under fire and without sleep
for three days and nights.

The roads and every other landmark had all been wiped out by the
shelling, but the bridge still stood. Captain Robertson still led
his Tanks on foot, facing besides the shells an intense close-range
machine-gun and rifle fire. He must have known that to go forward on
foot means certain death.

He and his convoy were by now well ahead of the infantry. Still he led
his Tanks on, carefully and patiently guiding them at a foot’s pace
towards their objective.

They reached the bridge, and one by one the Tanks crossed over. He led
them on towards a road that would take them straight up to the enemy
positions, the machine-gun fire growing more and more intense as they
advanced.

They reached the road, and as they reached it, Captain Robertson at
last fell, shot through the head.

But the Tanks went on, and succeeded in their mission. The object for
which Captain Robertson had so deliberately sacrificed his life was
achieved.

The 2nd and 3rd Brigades had by now gone back to Arras to refit their
machines, and to replenish their ranks. The 1st Brigade, however, made
two more efforts to take part in the fighting. The battle was by now
recognised as a serious British check. The Germans’ “elastic tactics”
and the weather had together delayed us for so long that they had
defeated us.

We had inflicted heavy losses on the enemy, and had in the act suffered
still more severely ourselves.

Our hopes of clearing the coast were gone.

At the end of ten weeks we had achieved gains which had been on the
programme for the first fortnight.

The whole plan of campaign had to be reconsidered, and to take
Passchendaele must now be our ultimate ambition.

On October 7 two Tanks were to operate ahead of their infantry and
endeavour to capture two fortified farms. Halfway to their objective a
derelict Tank blocked the way, and the two advancing machines became
ditched on trying to make a détour. By the time they had been unditched
it was too late to go on.

On the 9th eight Tanks were to have attacked strong points on the
Poelcapelle Road. At midnight on the night of the 8th-9th they started
for their objectives.

The road was everywhere encumbered with blown-up limbers and the bodies
of dead teams.

Large shell-holes had been blown in it.

The Tanks managed to get on as far as the Poelcapelle cross-roads,
but the enemy then began to shell the road heavily. The leading Tank
ditched in a new shell-hole, the second Tank as it waited to pass was
set on fire by a direct hit.

These two wrecks formed a complete barrier to the advance of the rest
of the column.

No way being found by which the surviving Tanks could circumvent the
obstacle, and the shelling having grown hotter, it was decided to
return.

But they had not gone far on the return journey when they discovered
that on the way up the last machine of the column had somehow fouled
an old derelict Tank. The remaining machines were trapped, and could
neither go forward nor back.

The efforts of their crews proved vain, and they were all five lost,
some being hit by enemy shells and the crews killed or wounded, and
some ditched in vain efforts to make their escape across country.

The enemy continued to shell the road, which was one we were obliged to
use, and it was a work of extreme hazard and difficulty to clear it of
the wrecks by which it was completely blocked.

The work was, however, performed. Every night for a week Major G. L.
Wilkes,[42] the 1st Brigade Engineer, used to go up the road as far as
he could in a Tank. Then he would get out and work till morning. Most
of the wrecks he blew up, some he and his small party of men were able
to tip over into the swamp.

The scene on the first of these expeditions is thus described by an
engineer officer who accompanied him:

  “I left St. Julien in the dark, having been informed that our guns
  were not going to fire. I waded up the road, which was swimming
  in a foot or two of slush; frequently I would stumble into a
  shell-hole hidden by the mud. The road was a complete shambles and
  strewn with débris, broken vehicles, dead and dying horses and
  men; I must have passed hundreds of them as well as bits of men
  and animals littered everywhere. As I neared Poelcapelle our guns
  started to fire; at once the Germans replied, pouring shells on and
  around the road; the flashes of the bursting shells were all round
  me. I cannot describe what it felt like; the nearest approach to
  a picture I can give is that it was like standing in the centre
  of the flame of a gigantic Primus stove. As I neared the derelict
  Tanks, the scene became truly appalling: wounded men lay drowned
  in the mud, others were stumbling and falling through exhaustion,
  others crawled and rested themselves up against the dead to raise
  themselves a little above the mud. On reaching the Tanks I found
  them surrounded by the dead and dying; men had crawled to them for
  what shelter they would afford. The nearest Tank was a Female. Her
  left sponson doors were open. Out of these protruded four pairs of
  legs; exhausted and wounded men had sought refuge in this machine
  and dead and dying lay in a jumbled heap inside.”

So ended the tragedy of October 9, the last of a series of hopeless
adventures.

A few Tanks were later moved up to a new railhead, with the hope that
better weather might enable them to take part in the final attack on
Passchendaele, the attack which was to end the Flanders offensive. But
the weather did not mend, and it was without the help of Tanks that
by a final effort the heights of Passchendaele were stormed and taken
in the first week of November. We held our gains. The high ground was
ours, the weary armies might rest, and the tragic nightmare of the
Third Battle of Ypres was over at last.

When time brought the verdict of the Official Despatch upon the work of
the Tanks, it was neither an unjust nor an unkindly one:--

  [43]“Although throughout the major part of the Ypres battle,
  and especially in its later stages, the condition of the ground
  made the use of Tanks difficult or impossible, yet whenever
  circumstances were in any way favourable, and even when they were
  not, very gallant and valuable work has been accomplished by Tank
  Commanders and crews on a great number of occasions. Long before
  the conclusion of the Flanders offensive these new instruments had
  proved their worth, and amply justified the labour, material and
  personnel diverted to their construction and development.”

It was not to be long before the Corps had an opportunity of proving
their worth indeed.




CHAPTER X

THE FIRST BATTLE OF CAMBRAI

                                      “On they move
    Indissolubly firm; nor obvious hill
    Nor straightening vale, nor wood nor stream divides
    Their perfect ranks.”

                                        _Paradise Lost._


PART I


I

All through the later part of the Ypres struggle the Tank Corps had
turned their eyes towards certain other parts of the line with a
longing as for The Delectable Mountains.

They imagined places in dry rolling chalk country where a Tank could
travel on the surface of the ground. They dreamed of battles in which
the artillery had neither given the enemy weeks of warning nor helped
him to reduce the ground to a swamp or the likeness of an ash heap.

A starving man does not picture every circumstance of a meal, a
drowning man the sensations of warmth and solidity, more vividly than
did the Tank Corps call up their dream battle.

General Elles and his Staff had several places in mind in which such a
battle might be fought. Perhaps they dwelt most affectionately on the
thoughts of some sector of the Hindenburg line, some high rolling chalk
plateau anywhere south of Arras.

Several such delightful spots lay in the domain of General Sir Julian
Byng’s 3rd Army. Perhaps he had some sort of operation in view
already! In September General Elles hopefully paid him a visit as he
lay at Albert. They conferred.

The Army Commander had, indeed, an idea of attacking.

More, he had already independently worked out the place, and many of
the details, of just such an attack as the Tank Corps had been sighing
for.

Together the two Generals worked at the scheme and a draft plan was
forwarded to G.H.Q.

G.H.Q., however, could not allow the attack for the present. The Ypres
affair must first be thrashed out, but when that was ended, say by
early November, then such an attack would have their blessing.

Meanwhile the two conspirators waited eagerly, all the while working
out and perfecting their plans.

At last, on October 20, the scheme was finally sanctioned, and Z day
was fixed for November 20. Still only four members of the Tank Corps
Staff knew of the project, and these four immediately stole off to our
lines near Havrincourt to make a preliminary survey of the new site.


II

The First Battle of Cambrai was to be a single-minded battle. It was
to fulfil in the simplest way the prime function of war, that is, to
destroy the forces of the enemy.

To attain this end it was to rely upon surprise, audacity, and rapidity
of movement.

Its main action was to be completed in about twenty-four hours, during
which time it was proposed to penetrate the Hindenburg Line, which
here consisted of four systems of trenches. Territorial gains were
not to be so much considered as were the destruction and capture of
enemy personnel and material. In other words, we were out to kill and
chivvy Germans. The system of attack was to be one completely new for a
full-dress battle. There was to be no artillery preparation whatever.
To all appearance the front line was to be perfectly normal up to the
very moment of attack, when two Army Corps and three Brigades of Tanks
were suddenly to hurl their whole weight against the enemy.

Such tactics demanded that the most complete secrecy should be
maintained up to zero hour itself, and for the second time in the
history of the Tanks a vital secret was successfully kept.

The area to be raided lay just south of Cambrai. It was an open rolling
chalk plateau, which had lain uncultivated for two years, and was now
covered with a thin growth of wan grey grass.

From north-west to south-east the low ridges ran, save where the
dominating hump of Bourlon’s wood-crowned Hill ran across the grain of
the country.

On either flank of this area, sometimes at right angles to the curve
of our lines, sometimes running parallel to the German lines, ran the
Canal du Nord and the Canal de l’Escaut.

The slopes were nowhere very steep, but the levels were everywhere
varied by spurs and--so-called--“ravines.” One of these, which lay
just within the German lines, and parallel to our front, for some time
gave grave concern both to the Tanks and to other arms, who apparently
coupled it in their minds with the Grand Cañon of Colorado. Its name
sounded so formidable, and it was marked so large on the map! It might
well prove a serious obstacle to the progress of Tanks. A series of
exhaustive reconnaissances carried out by the Tank Corps, however,
dispelled this alarming legend and the “Grand Ravine” stood revealed as
being no more than a shallow dry field ditch which could be jumped by
any rabbit of reasonable activity.

The German defences, the famous Hindenburg Line, lay wide and strong
across the spurs. The main line of resistance had been everywhere well
placed on the reverse slopes of the main ridges, and was invisible from
our lines. Only from the air and from rare posts of vantage could we
see a length of it. There were three lines of trenches, each trench
anything up to 15 ft. wide, with an outpost line thrown forward to
screen these main defences. In front of the main line lay band upon
band and acre upon acre of dense wire; nowhere was it less than 50
yards deep, and here and there it jutted out in great salients flanked
by batteries of machine-guns. Never had we before been faced with such
a wilderness of wire.

It was calculated that to cut it with artillery would have taken five
weeks and cost twenty millions of money.

Not only was the actual “ditch” of the trench believed to be in most
places some 12 ft. wide and 18 ft. deep, but at either side, the
parados and parapet (each about 2 ft. 6 in. high) were, we had reason
to believe, so sloped as to increase the effective width to about 16 to
18 ft.

These were the dimensions of some trenches captured by us at Arras, and
for such trenches we had to be prepared.

The space to be cleared was too wide for a Tank. A special means of
crossing was, however, devised by the Staff of the Central Workshops at
Erin.

This was a special huge fascine made of about seventy-five ordinary
bundles of brushwood, strongly compressed and bound by heavy chains.

It was carried on the nose of the machine, and could be released by a
touch from inside the Tank by a specially ingenious releasing gear, and
dropped neatly into the trench.

The manufacture of the 350 fascines and the fitting of the Tanks with
the releasing gear was a piece of work of which the Central Workshops
have reason to be proud. They received the order for 350 fascines and
110 Tank sledges on October 24, when they had already for some months
been working at high pressure, chiefly upon Tanks salved from the
Salient.

To fulfil the new order the shops worked day and night for three weeks.

To make the fascines, 21,000 ordinary stout bundles of brushwood, such
as are used for road repairing, were unloaded at the Central Workshops.

Here eighteen Tanks had been specially fitted up, for binding and
fastening these into bundles of sixty or seventy.

The Tanks acted in pairs, pulling in opposite directions at steel
chains which had been previously wound round and round the bundles.

So great was the pressure thus exerted that, months afterwards, an
infantryman in search of firewood, who found one of these fascines
and gaily filed through its binding chain, was killed by the sudden
springing open of the bundle.

When they were ready, each bundle weighed a ton and a half, and it
took twenty of the Chinese coolies employed at the Central Workshops
to roll one of them through the mud. On one occasion 144 fascines had
to be loaded on to trucks within twenty-four hours. Concurrently with
the fascines the Central Workshops achieved the making of the 110 Tank
sledges. The whole of the timber needed for this work had to be sawn
out of logs. Besides this they repaired and issued 127 Tanks.


III

Each Tank could only carry one fascine, and once it had dropped it into
a trench had no means of picking it up again. There were, however,
three broad trenches to be crossed.

This circumstance had to be taken into account in the general scheme of
attack. Every detail of this plan had been most ably worked out either
by Lieut-Colonel Fuller himself (G.S.O.I. to the Tank Corps), or by
the Staff whom he inspired. Every movement and formation which we are
going to describe had been reduced to an exact drill, several special
exercises being evolved for the occasion. One of them, a simple platoon
drill for the infantry, was, we are told by an official historian,
based upon a drill described by Xenophon in the _Cyropædia_, and
attributed by him to Cyrus of Persia (_circa_ 500 B.C.).

Very briefly the main plan was as follows:--

The whole line of attack was divided into areas for three Tanks who
formed a section and worked together.

Of these one was an “Advance Guard Tank,” and the other two were
“Infantry Tanks.”

The advance guard Tank was to go straight forward through the enemy’s
wire, and, turning to the left without crossing it, to shoot along the
fire trench which lay in front of it.

Its object was to keep down the enemy and protect the two infantry
Tanks. These the while both made for one selected spot in the trench;
the left-hand one cast in its fascine, crossed the trench on it, turned
to the left and worked down the fire trench; the right-hand Tank
crossed the fire trench on the first Tank’s fascine, and made for the
second trench, dropped in its fascine, and crossing, worked down this
second trench. Meanwhile the advance guard Tank had swung round and
crossed over the first and second trenches on the fascines of the two
infantry Tanks, and it therefore moved forward with its own fascine
still in position for the third line.

The infantry were also divided into three forces and worked in single
file. The first force were “Trench Clearers.” They worked with the
Tanks, and helped to clear up trenches and dug-outs. They carried small
red flags with which they marked the paths which the Tanks had made
through the wire. The second were the “Trench Stops,” who, as it were,
played the net over the rabbit hole to the Tank’s ferret. The third
force were the “Trench Garrisons,” who took over the trenches as they
were captured.

One feature of the combined Tank and infantry training for this battle
was particularly interesting.

They had not very long to work together, yet it was essential that the
infantry should have confidence in the trench-spanning and wire-cutting
power of the Tanks.

Infantry units were therefore invited by the Tank Corps to build their
own defences and entanglements, the Tanks guaranteeing to cross the
trenches and chew up the wire of their best efforts.

Some very formidable and ingenious defences were made.

The Tanks, however, everywhere carried out their guarantee, to the
great edification of the infantry.

The following table gives briefly the allocation of Tanks and infantry
to the various objectives:

  ALLOCATION OF FIGHTING TANKS

  _1st Brigade Battalions._   _Tanks (No.)_     _3rd Corps Divisions._
  D (4)                            42               On Right: 51st.
  E (5)                            42               51st and 62nd.
  G (7)                            42               On Left: 62nd.

    _Objectives_: Havrincourt, Flesquières.

    Of each battalion: thirty-six Tanks for 1st, 12 (plus survivors)
    for 2nd Objective.

    _Exploitation towards_ Fontaine, Bourlon Wood, the Bapaume-Cambrai
    Road, Bourlon Village and Graincourt. Bridges over Canal du Nord.

  _2nd Brigade Battalions._   _Tanks (No.)_     _4th Corps Divisions._
  B (2)                        42 on Right.         6th.
  H (8)                        42 on Left.          6th.

    _Objectives_: Beaucamp, Villers, Plouich Road.

    _Exploitation towards_ Marcoing, Preny Chapel, and Nine Wood.

  _3rd Brigade Battalions._   _Tanks (No.)_     _4th Corps Divisions._
  C (3)                            42               12th.
  F (6)                            42                 ”
  I (9)                            42               20th.
  A[44] (1)                        42                 ”

  _Objective_: La Vacquerie.

  _Exploitation towards_ Crèvecœur, Masnières, and Marcoing.

The part to be played by the artillery was carefully worked out. There
was to be no preliminary bombardment, but as soon as the attack was
launched the heavy guns were to begin counter-battery work and were to
shrapnel the bridges along the Canal.

At the same time a jumping barrage of smoke shells and H.E. was to
cover the advance of the Tanks and infantry.

The secrecy of the attack made it impossible for any registering shots
to be fired, and the ranges could be worked out in theory only.

Several squadrons of the R.A.F. were to co-operate, flying low; their
especial work being to bomb enemy Headquarters.

The cavalry were also billed to co-operate.

Special wire-pulling Tanks fitted with grapnels were employed to clear
convenient broad lanes through the wire for them, and their needs were
throughout carefully considered.

For one reason and another, however, the cavalry did not, after all,
find it possible to take much part in the fighting.

The preparations for the battle were of the thorough and laborious kind
always requisite for a “full-dress” attack.

An immense amount of railway movement was necessary in order to bring
up the three Tank Brigades, whose component parts were a good deal
scattered. Thirty-six trainloads of twelve Tanks each had to be dealt
with, and their stores besides.

For the sake of secrecy all this movement was done after dark. There
were only two minor accidents, otherwise the whole scheme was worked
out exactly to programme.

The usual huge dumps of petrol and grease and special stores had to be
formed. Most of them were made in neighbouring woods, where the Tanks
also lay up. Havrincourt Wood and Desert Wood were, for instance, used
for main dumps, and as lying-up places for the 1st and 2nd Brigades,
for in these woods the hornbeam undergrowth had not yet shed its leaves
and the Tanks and their stores could lie in perfect secrecy.

For the 3rd Brigade, however, there was no wood conveniently near, and
the Tanks lay out in a village with camouflage clothes thrown over
them, painted to represent bricks and tiles.

For the forward dumps splendid work was done by the 3rd Army’s light
railways, who handled astonishing masses of stores; for example,
165,000 gallons of petrol, 541,000 rounds of 6-pounder ammunition, and
5,000,000 rounds of S.A.A.

Beyond the light railways the Tank fills were transported by supply
Tanks.

All these preparations had to be carried out as secretly as possible.
Moves were made after dark.

No new wheel tracks must be made. There must be no reference to the
battle over the telephone. There must be no extra horse or mechanical
transport seen about in daylight.

The concentration of Tanks in the background was explained by the
establishment of an alleged new training area. Tank Corps Headquarters
established with the army at Albert was disguised under the plausible
alias of “The Tank Corps Training Office.”

There must be no increase in aeroplane activity for reconnaissance
purposes.

The same troops were to continue to hold the line, the attacking forces
passing through them, and those in the line were as far as possible to
be kept in the dark as to the new operations. There was always a danger
of men in the trenches being taken prisoner in some raid, and the less
they knew the better. Oosthoek Wood had not been forgotten.

All the Reconnaissance Officers and the Tank Staff who had to frequent
the line wore non-committal burberries and discreet tin hats; one
well-known Staff Officer even went to the length of affecting blue
glasses; in fact, in the matter of disguise the line was only drawn at
ginger whiskers. The cars they came in had their distinguishing badges
taken off, and their drivers were carefully primed with cock-and-bull
stories with which to explain their presence. Staff and Reconnaissance
Officers slunk about, above all avoiding Headquarters and those other
social centres which etiquette enjoins must be first called upon by all
who visit other people’s trenches. Friends were stealthily avoided, and
a curious jumble of assorted and obvious lies was gradually put into
circulation.

At the Lyceum the villain conducts his affairs in this sort of way
without arousing the least suspicion in any one, but in real life, and
particularly in the line where a look-out must constantly be kept for
spies, such conduct is apt to cause remark.

Before Cambrai embarrassing situations frequently arose which could
be elucidated only by the drawing aside of some justly indignant
Commanding Officer for a few minutes’ whispered conversation.

At the 1st Brigade Headquarters in Arras there was a locked room with
“No admittance” written large upon the door. Here were ostentatiously
hung spoof maps of other topical districts and a profusion of plans lay
spread about.

The Reconnaissance Officer always hoped that this room was duly
ransacked by the “unauthorised person,” for whose visit he had taken
such pains to prepare.

One more precaution was most carefully observed in the line itself.
Exactly the amount of artillery fire to which the enemy was accustomed
must be continued, and from guns of the calibre which he expected. It
was considered that more or less shooting, or the use of guns to which
he was not accustomed, would be sure to alarm him.

For more than a week before the battle there was no rain. Low, creeping
mists screened our movements and made it almost impossible that the
enemy should have seen us from the air.

But the time was, nevertheless, an anxious one.

On the night of the 18th-19th the enemy raided our line and captured
some of our men.

We were uncertain how much these men knew, and how much information
they would give under examination.

If under prompt examination they gave away the gist of our plans the
enemy would have twenty-four hours in which to bring up reserves. There
was, however, nothing to be done except to await the event.

There was yet one other particular in which the Battle of Cambrai was
to differ from other battles.

In modern warfare the place of the General commanding any considerable
body of troops is almost invariably in the rear at some point where
communications are good and whence he can effectively control his
reserves.

His leadership is more a matter of the spirit and _moral_ which he can
infuse into his troops, than of his actual presence in the forefront
of the battle. But General Elles had determined to lead his Tanks in
person. All the available machines were to be used, there would be no
reserves for him to handle. He would be best placed, he argued, in his
Flag Tank where he could keep his hand on the pulse of the battle. It
must have been with great satisfaction that he perceived that he would
here once more be able to indulge his remarkable penchant for battles,
a penchant from whose gratification his responsibilities as a commander
had now long (officially) debarred him.

On the evening before the attack he issued his Special Order to the
Tank Corps. It was not the incitement to “do their damnedest” which the
contemporary Press fathered upon him. That spurious fosterling he hated
the worse, the more he perceived its popularity.

His authentic Order was as follows:--

  “_Special Order, No. 6_

  “1. To-morrow the Tank Corps will have the chance for which it has
  been waiting for many months, to operate on good going in the van
  of the battle.

  “2. All that hard work and ingenuity can achieve has been done in
  the way of preparation.

  “3. It remains for unit commanders and for Tank crews to complete
  the work by judgment and pluck in the battle itself.

  “4. In the light of past experience I leave the good name of the
  Corps with great confidence in your hands.

  “5. I propose leading the attack of the Centre Division.

  November 19, 1917.

                              (_Signed_) HUGH ELLES,
                                “B.-G. Commanding Tank Corps.”

The statement that the G.O.C. was to lead the attack came as a great
surprise to every one; it was probably a greater surprise to some of
the authorities than it was even to the Tank Corps themselves. This
decision was generally accepted with pleasure by the fighting troops,
but many of the more thoughtful were filled with very great anxiety.
It was clear that the General’s Tank, the “Hilda,” was going to be
thrust close behind the barrage in a conspicuous position flying the
flag; the dangers that it ran were, therefore, greater than those run
by any of the other Tanks. On the other hand, it was generally realised
that the Tank Corps had, in this action, a very great deal at stake; it
risked not merely machines and the lives of its officers and men, but
its very existence. If the Tanks failed to make good this time there
is little doubt that this type of mechanical warfare would have been
abandoned for some time at least. On November 20, therefore, the Tank
Corps was “all in” in every sense of the word.


IV

At 4.30 on the morning of the 20th a heavy burst of firing from the
enemy made us fear for the integrity of our secret, but to our great
relief it died away, and for an hour before zero (6 a.m.) quiet reigned
along almost the whole front of attack.

From documents captured during the battle we found that up to the 18th
the Germans had issued such reports as “The enemy’s work is confined to
the improvement of his trenches and wire.” But the prisoners whom the
Germans had taken on the night of the 18th had yielded more interesting
information. On the strength only of their preliminary examination the
Germans moved reserve machine-guns up to Flesquières.

At the last moment a higher enemy authority seems to have again
examined the prisoners, and, too late, an urgent warning was sent down
to all units in the line to maintain a sharp lookout and to issue
armour-piercing bullets immediately.

This message we found half transcribed in a front-line signal dug-out.

Six o’clock had struck.

Under cover of the mist the whole line of 350 Tanks moved forward, led
by General Elles’ Flag Tank, the “Hilda.” As they moved a thousand
concealed guns hailed down their fire upon the German line. Even
through the din of the barrage and the clamour of their own engines the
Tank crews could hear, as they advanced, the tearing and snapping of
the German wire as they trampled it under them. The bewildered enemy
was overwhelmed. He had only one last hope. Perhaps the wide trenches
themselves would hold back this inexorable company!

But when each of the second line of Tanks stopped, ducked its head,
laid its “stepping stone” in the trench and crawled easily over it, the
enemy completely lost his balance.

All along the line men fled in panic. Only at a few tactical points
did our onrush meet with any real opposition. The surprise, the novel
tactics, the crushing onrush of the Tanks proved too much in those
first confounding minutes for one of the best fighting armies the world
had ever seen.

The “Hilda” reached the outposts line in the van of the battle; the
resistance here was only slight, but General Elles succeeded in picking
up a few targets which he pointed out to the gunners. It is reported
that he did most of his observing with his head thrust up through the
hatch in the roof of the Tank, using his feet in the gunner’s ribs to
indicate targets.

Once the Tanks were astride the enormous Hindenburg ditch, the enemy
only offered resistance in a few places. The “Hilda,” still carrying
the flag which had been several times hit but not brought down, went
on to her first objective line, which included the main Hindenburg
front, and support lines.

But the General’s holiday was over. The great problem had been
triumphantly solved.

The next most pressing need would be for reorganisation.

If any of the Tanks were required to operate again the next day, that
reorganisation must be begun at once. So reluctantly leaving the
“Hilda” to carry on to further objectives, the General came back on
foot, somewhat impeded by various parties of “unmopped up” Germans who
insisted on surrendering to him. By the afternoon, General Elles was
back at his Headquarters, functioning by telephone and shorthand-typist
in the manner usual to Generals.

Here and there, after the first rush, a desperate handful of the enemy
would be rallied by their officers to defend some point of vantage.

At Lateau Wood on the right of the attack heavy fighting took place,
including a duel between a Tank and a 5.9 in. howitzer. Turning on
the Tank the howitzer fired, shattering and tearing off most of the
right-hand sponson of the approaching machine, but fortunately not
injuring its vitals; before the German gunners could reload, the Tank
was upon them, and in a few seconds the great gun was crushed in a
jumbled mass amongst the brushwood surrounding it.

A little to the west of this wood the Tanks of “F” (the 6th) Battalion,
which had topped the ridge, were speeding down on Masnières. One
approached the bridge, the key to the Rumilly-Seranvillers ridge, upon
the capture of which so much depended. The bridge had, as the Tank
Commander knew, been damaged either by shell-fire or by the German
sappers. It was, however, most important that he should cross, and he
very pluckily, therefore, went for it. As the Tank neared the centre
of the bridge, there was a rending of steel girders--the bridge had
broken, and as it collapsed the Tank disappeared into the waters of the
canal. Other Tanks arriving, and not being able to cross, assisted the
infantry to do so by opening a heavy covering fire.

The Tank that had fallen into the canal had been let down quite
gradually into the water as the bridge slowly subsided.

There was but one loss. The wig of one of the crew got knocked off as
his head emerged from the manhole, and it floated away down the canal
and was never seen again. Lost to view, its memory was kept green for
many months by its injured owner’s claims for compensation.

The dilemma which most cruelly racked the official mind was the
question whether a wig came under the heading of “Field Equipment,”
“Loss of a Limb,” “Medical Comfort,” “Clothing,” “Personal Effects,” or
“Special Tank Stores.” Finally, however, its owner did receive monetary
compensation for his loss.

But the genius of Comedy had not done with the Tanks.

  [45]“The town had been evacuated so suddenly by the enemy that some
  civilian population still remained.

  “Two cows belonging to the German Town Major were solemnly
  presented by their French civilian keeper to Major Hammond as a
  token of the joy that the inhabitants felt at their liberation.”

These absurd camp followers remained for long the most cherished
possessions of the Battalion, and accompanied them wherever they went.

[Illustration: PREPARING FOR THE CAMBRAL. A TRAIN OF TANKS WITH
FASCINES IN POSITION]

[Illustration: THE BAPAUME-CAMBRAI ROAD]

[Illustration: A TANK CRUSHING DOWN THE ENEMY’S WIRE]

At Flesquières the 51st Highland Division, which was using an
attack formation of its own, was held up; it appears that the Tanks
outdistanced the infantry, or that the tactics adopted did not permit
of the infantry keeping close enough up to the Tanks. As the Tanks
topped the crest, they came under direct artillery fire at short range
and suffered heavy casualties.

No less than sixteen Tanks were knocked out by a single field gun.

This gun was at the west end of the village, and from its position the
Tanks were each outlined against the sky as they topped the ridge.
Its story is told in Sir Douglas Haig’s Despatch, with a generosity
which might well have encouraged what the Tank crews considered a most
undesirable spirit in enemy gunners:

  “Many of the hits upon our tanks at Flesquières were obtained by
  a German artillery officer who, remaining alone at his battery,
  served a field gun single-handed until killed at his gun. The great
  bravery of this officer aroused the admiration of all ranks.”

There was stiff fighting at Havrincourt, and before nightfall the 62nd
Division and its Tanks had captured Graincourt. Several Tanks even
pushed on beyond towards Bourlon Wood and the Cambrai road, but by this
time the infantry were too exhausted to follow.

By 4 p.m. on November 20 one of the most astonishing battles in all
history had been won, and as far as the Tank Corps was concerned,
tactically finished.

There were no reserves of Tanks, and the crews that had fought all day
were now very spent and weary.

The infantry were still more exhausted and a further advance was
impossible. The night was spent by Tank crews and infantry in resting,
and by the Staff in planning a renewed attack for the next day.

A letter home from a Tank officer describes a typical scene:

  “We had captured the village of Havrincourt that morning, or
  rather its ruins, and it was in the one remaining room of the once
  magnificent Château that General John Ponsonby, commanding the 40th
  Division, established his Headquarters and convened a conference
  for ten o’clock in the evening.

  “The road thither had already been sufficiently restored to permit
  of cars getting through, granted skilful driving and good luck.

  “Felled trees, wire, breastworks, and other barriers had been
  cleared aside, trenches and craters on both sides of No Man’s Land
  had been roughly filled in, whilst the notorious ‘Grand Ravine’ had
  been made passable for carriage folk by the judicious placing of a
  few fascines.

  “There were a round dozen of us at the conference, a muddy, rather
  blear-eyed party, some in tin hats and trench coats, revolver
  girt--some in honorific red and gold--all with slung gas-masks.

  “General Ponsonby and his G.S.O.I. sat on an old packing-case with
  a map spread out before them on another, lit by the dancing flicker
  of two guttering candles stuck into German beer bottles. General
  Elles and Colonel Baker-Carr were there with a chorus of Commanding
  Officers, Company Commanders and Reconnaissance Officers from the
  1st Tank Brigade.

  “An armed sentry stood at the breach in the wall that served for
  doorway--signallers and orderlies entered and left the little
  circle of yellow light, stirring up the dust from the fallen débris
  on the broken floor.

  “One felt uneasily conscious of forming part of a Graphic picture
  entitled ‘Advanced Headquarters,’ or ‘Planning the Battle.’

  “Anyway, the battle _was_ eventually planned and to the
  satisfaction of all parties present. The G.S.O.I. finished writing
  his operation orders for the morning’s attack, the conference
  dissolved, and we stumbled out once more into the night, each of us
  with some job to get done before the dawn.

  “To me it fell to push on to the advanced Headquarters of the
  Infantry Brigades concerned to explain the plans for the morrow’s
  battles and to deliver certain necessary maps to the Tank
  Commanders who would be co-operating.

  “I slung the maps for easier porterage along a pole that I and my
  orderly shouldered and from which they dangled in swaying white
  packages to the great interest and mystification of passing troops,
  to whom the bearers and the pole were invisible in the inky dark.

  “It was a weary way up to Graincourt with nothing but gun flashes
  and infrequent star-shells to light the way, but at last we reached
  it.

  “Two of the Infantry Brigades had, we found, established their
  Headquarters in a sort of catacomb underneath the ruined church--a
  wonderful place, part mediæval and part the work of the industrious
  Hun.

  “Down and down you went--the old vaulted brickwork giving place
  to stout German timbering--until at the very bottom, some hundred
  feet below the floor of the church, the steep stairway ended in a
  gallery off which opened a whole street of little chambers.

  “The place was insufferably hot and stuffy to one fresh in from the
  cold of the outer night; there was haze and reek of tobacco smoke
  and cooking, half drowning the stale dank smell, inseparable from a
  deep dug-out that has been long occupied--especially by Germans.

  “Graincourt had been taken by surprise and had changed hands so
  quickly that we had taken over these very eligible Headquarters as
  a going concern ‘ready furnished for immediate occupation.’

  “So sudden, indeed, had been the change of tenancy that the two
  Boche engineers whose job it was to run the electric lighting
  plant had been captured in their own subterranean engine-room and
  were even now stolidly carrying on their old duties, seemingly but
  little concerned by the fact that they were now ‘under entirely new
  management.’

  “As it turned out, it was very well for us that we did capture and
  retain this precious pair, for when they found that they were going
  to be kept on to run the lighting as before, they quite shamelessly
  said:

  “‘Well, if that’s the case, there’s just one little point we ought
  to warn you about, and that is, if any one moves what looks like
  the main switch--as any one would who didn’t know, when starting up
  the plant--the demolition charges would be blown. If you would like
  these removed in case of accidents, we can show you where to dig
  for them--we know exactly where to find them, as it was our job to
  lay them.’

  “Even whilst I was there, I saw these ruffians superintending
  the removal of case after case of high-explosive from cunningly
  concealed chambers behind the timber linings and under floors.

  “The cramped stairways, galleries and cubby-holes were crowded with
  odd specimens of all ranks and arms, some eating or talking, others
  huddled uneasily asleep, with the constant tide of traffic pouring
  over their sprawling limbs.

  “Electric lights burned brilliantly, and the engine sent a steady
  shiver through the timbered walls like the vibrations of a steamer.

  “Like a ship breasting the waves, too, were the intermittent thud
  and tremor of bursting shells in the village high overhead, or the
  replies of our own artillery.

  “Telephones buzzed, a typewriter rattled away, and the clatter of
  plates being washed in a bucket made one wonder wistfully whether
  it would occur to any one to suggest that you might be hungry.

  “One Brigadier, presumably the first come, sat in the utmost pomp
  and luxury in a sumptuous arm-chair of crimson plush, a ci-devant
  drawing-room table before him, on which was spread a large-scale
  detailed map of Bourlon Wood--a very valuable legacy left behind by
  the over-hasty Boches.

  “On the walls were framed oleographs of Hindenburg and the Kaiser,
  whilst a gilt clock still kept German time as it ticked above the
  door.

  “Two tiers of wire rabbit-net bunks lined one side of the little
  chamber, and a smart little stove surmounted by a fine old mirror
  adorned the other.

  “They are pretty sound on Home Comforts are the Boches, and they
  don’t think twice about pinching anything they fancy from the
  unfortunate natives.

  “Like another much advertised system of furnishing, ‘It’s so
  simple’! ‘Deferred Payment,’ if they will have it so--deferred, but
  payment at the last--payment good and plenty or I’ll eat my tin
  hat--including visor and lining.”


V

The next day (November 21) saw composite companies of Tanks fighting in
co-operation with new infantry.

But though the infantry was new, it was unfortunately not fresh. Sir
Julian Byng had no rested troops at all at his disposal. It may be
said that the whole of the subsequent history of the battle and its
sequel hinges upon these two points. All our infantry was weary in the
extreme, and most of it had never co-operated with Tanks before.

Consequently many strong points, though they were finally captured,
gave us more trouble than they should.

On the 21st, Tanks attacked several villages and strong points with
success.

Thirteen Tanks of “B” (2nd) Battalion surrounded the village of
Cantaing. They met with a stubborn resistance as they closed in upon
it. To this they replied vigorously with machine-gun and 6-pounder
fire, and by noon the enemy had been driven out.

Two Tanks also, of “B” Battalion, were sent for by the infantry, who
were held up by heavy machine-gun fire outside Noyelles. In half an
hour they succeeded in crushing all resistance, setting fire to an
ammunition dump and patrolling the village till the infantry took over.

Neither Tank was in the least hurt, and there were no casualties among
the crews.

Twelve Tanks of “H” (8th) Battalion received orders soon after 8 a.m.
to attack Fontaine-Notre-Dame.

The village was six miles distant, and the Tanks came in for severe
fighting on the way there.

They reached their objective at about 4.30. By 5.30 they had captured
it and were withdrawn after handing it over to the infantry.

But next day a furious German counter-attack dislodged our garrison.

We were determined to possess it, and on the 23rd attacked again in
force.

The enemy was prepared, and a desperate battle ensued among the houses.
Twenty-four Tanks from “B” and “H” Battalions had entered the village
first, whereupon the enemy retired to the tops of the houses and rained
down bombs and bullets upon the roofs of the machines.

The Germans were in force, and in the narrow streets it was difficult
for the Tanks to bring an effective fire to bear upon them.

The infantry was too weary to clear the place, and after patrolling the
streets the Tanks withdrew, as soon as darkness covered their retreat.

On the same day thirty-four Tanks of the 1st Brigade supported a
brilliant attack made by the 40th Division upon Bourlon Wood. The wood
was captured after a sharp struggle. The Tanks then pressed on towards
the village, but as at Fontaine, the infantry, who had suffered severe
casualties in the taking of the wood, was too exhausted to follow up.

On November 25 and 26 we renewed our attack upon Fontaine-Notre-Dame
and again tried to capture Bourlon Village.

In the end, however, both these important points remained in enemy
hands.

A week had now elapsed since the launching of the battle.

According to the original scheme, the action should not have been
continued for more than three days, but in spite of our original
“Self-Denying Ordinance” as to ground, when desirable posts of vantage
were actually in our hands, we had fallen a prey to “land hunger,” and
had still fought on and continued to advance in order to consolidate
these new and delightful possessions.

But now we held the extremely important tactical point formed by the
heights of Bourlon Wood, and it was plain that to take Fontaine and
Bourlon Village would cost us more than they were worth to us.

We had done all and more than all we set out to do. The troops urgently
needed resting. They had had no proper rest before the battle, and now
despite their sense of victory they were extraordinarily spent.

The Tanks’ crews, too, were almost fought to a standstill, and
owing to the constant daily necessity there had been for hurrying
composite companies into action, their units had become inconveniently
disorganised.

So on November 27 we rested from our labours and counted the spoil.

  [46]“Whatever may be the future historian’s dictum as to its value,
  the First Battle of Cambrai must always rank as one of the most
  remarkable battles ever fought. On November 20, from a base of
  some 13,000 yards in width, a penetration of no less than 10,000
  yards was effected in twelve hours (at the Third Battle of Ypres a
  similar penetration took three months), 8000 prisoners and 100 guns
  were captured, and these prisoners alone were nearly double the
  casualties suffered by the 3rd and 4th Armies during the first day
  of the battle. It is an interesting point to remember that in this
  battle the attacking infantry were assisted by 690 officers and
  3500 other ranks of the Tank Corps, a little over 4000 men, or the
  strength of a strong brigade, and that these men replaced artillery
  for wire-cutting, and rendered unnecessary the old preliminary
  bombardment. More than this, by keeping close to the infantry,
  they effected a much higher co-operation than had ever before been
  attainable with artillery. When on November 21 the bells of London
  pealed forth in celebration of the victory of Cambrai, consciously
  or unconsciously to their listeners they tolled out an old tactics
  and rang in a new--Cambrai had become the Valmy of a new epoch in
  war, the epoch of the mechanical engineer.”

It was a weary but satisfied body of men that General Elles inspected
at Havrincourt on November 29 when the party broke up.

The 1st and 3rd Brigades were entraining immediately for Mult and Bray
respectively, and the 2nd was to follow them in a few days’ time.

Good-byes were exchanged, and, as every one thought, the curtain rung
down upon the First Battle of Cambrai.


Part II

(_November 30_)

In order to understand the events that followed, we have to imagine a
victorious but very weary British Army holding a newly consolidated
salient against an enemy whom they have just roused to a revengeful
fury by a sudden stinging slap in the face.

The enemy had been horribly frightened, and now that he had recovered
he realised how urgently his prestige demanded signal vindication.
We were, it would seem, half expecting in a tired unimaginative sort
of way that he might hit at us on the new Bourlon Wood flank of our
salient. On the Gouzeaucourt side were old-established defences. These
we held thinly--it never entering our heads apparently that he would
attack an old piece of the line.

But the German Army Commander, General von der Marwitz, had an
ambitious scheme in his mind. He meant to pinch off our salient and, if
possible, to capture the entire third and fourth Corps, who held it.
His right wing was to operate from Bourlon southward, and his left from
Masnières westwards, the two attacks converging on Havrincourt and Metz.

The attack was launched shortly after daylight on November 30, and
failed completely on the right against Bourlon Wood; here the enemy was
caught by our artillery and machine-guns and mown down by hundreds. On
the left, however, the attack succeeded; first, it came as a surprise;
secondly, the Germans heralded their assault by lines of low-flying
aeroplanes, which made our men keep down and so lose observation. Under
the protection of this aeroplane barrage and a very heavy trench
mortar bombardment the German infantry advanced and speedily captured
Villers Guislain and Gouzeaucourt.

It was not till nearly ten o’clock on November 30 that
Brigadier-General Courage of the 2nd Tank Brigade received a telephone
message warning him of the attack.

The Tanks had been definitely “dismissed,” and were busy refitting,
and at that moment every machine was in complete _déshabillé_. Many of
the engines were in process of being tinkered with, and not a single
Tank was filled up or contained its battle equipment. Those whom some
emergency has obliged to get out an ordinary car on a cold winter’s
morning when it has neither petrol, oil, nor water in it, and has half
its engine strewn about the garage, will understand the difficulties
that faced the Tank Corps. They will realise that when no less than
twenty-two Tanks of “B” (2nd) Battalion had started for the battle by
12.40, a very smart piece of work had been done. Very soon fourteen
Tanks of “A” (1st) Battalion followed them, and by two o’clock twenty
Tanks of “H” (8th) Battalion were able to move up in support.

In the words of Sir Douglas Haig’s Despatch, “Great credit is due to
the officers and men of the (2nd) Tank Brigade for the speed with which
they brought their Tanks into action.”

By the time the first twenty Tanks reached Gouzeaucourt, however, the
Guards, who had been hurried up with all speed, had managed to retake
it, and the Tanks were therefore pushed out as a screen to cover their
consolidation.

Here they remained all day, beating off enemy counter-attacks.

All day along both sides of the salient the enemy hammered fiercely
at our lines. Here and there he penetrated them. Cooks, servants, and
signallers, every available man, was given a rifle and put into the
line, and the Despatch tells of wonderful individual deeds that were
done as the battle surged and eddied confusedly. We did not propose to
allow the Germans to hold their new possessions, the points of vantage
out of which they had hustled us.

On December 1, Tanks, Guards, and dismounted Indian cavalry hit back
against Villers Guislain and Gauche Wood.

  “Tanks were,” the Despatch notes, “in great measure responsible
  for the capture of the wood. Heavy fighting took place for this
  position, which it is clear that the enemy had decided to hold at
  all costs. When the infantry and cavalry finally took possession
  of the wood, great numbers of German dead and smashed machine-guns
  were found. In one spot four German machine-guns, with dead crews
  lying round, were discovered within a radius of twenty yards. Three
  German field guns, complete with teams, were also captured in this
  wood.

  “Other Tanks proceeded to Villers Guislain, and in spite of heavy
  direct artillery fire three reached the outskirts of the village,
  but the fire of the enemy’s machine-guns prevented our troops
  advancing from the south from supporting them, and the Tanks
  ultimately withdrew.”

For two more days the enemy pressed on against us, and the battle raged
round Bourlon, Fontaine, Marcoing, and La Vacquerie.

Everywhere he dented in our line, and by December 4 the outline of our
front showed an impossible series of irregularities. We must either
renew the attack on a big scale, or make up our minds

  [47]“to withdraw to a more compact line on the Flesquières Ridge.

  “Although this decision involved giving up important positions
  most gallantly won, I had no doubt as to the correct course under
  the conditions. Accordingly, on the night of December 4–5 the
  evacuation of the positions held by us north of the Flesquières
  Ridge was commenced. On the morning of December 7 this withdrawal
  was completed successfully without interference from the enemy.”

It is as well that the enemy did not “interfere,” for through some
oversight the Tanks did not receive due notice of the intended
withdrawal, and certain salvage parties, busily at work on disabled
Tanks, in forward positions, knew nothing of the evacuation until, to
their astonishment, they found our infantry streaming back past them in
the darkness. There was then nothing for it but to abandon the wrecks
and to get back themselves with such gear as they could carry.

So ended the second phase of the battle.

It had been an exceedingly vexatious business.

Putting the best construction we could upon it, we had to admit to
having been caught napping. The German attack had thrown us into
complete, if momentary, confusion. But afterwards, when the situation
could be calmly reviewed, contemporary criticism was unanimously agreed
that we had, after all, suffered little but moral damage. And from
that sort of damage the British have the art of deriving wholesome
instruction in a unique degree. We braced ourselves up, and determined
that this sharp rap over the knuckles should do us good.

But to the Tank Corps the exploits of the 2nd Brigade were more
directly advantageous.

Amid the hubbub and confusion the Tank crews, like the Guards and the
2nd Cavalry Division, had known but one impulse--they had gone straight
east against the enemy. That was the pole to which their compass
pointed.

While everything had been doubt and hesitation they had had but one
thought, to fill and adjust their machines and hurry them forward. At
9 a.m. the Tank crews had been peacefully preparing to break camp and
leave for their training area. By four in the afternoon seventy-three
Tanks had been launched with decisive effect against the enemy.

To many High Commanders who had believed that Tanks could only be used
in a “full-dress” attack after weeks of preparation, the events of
November 30 came as a joyful revelation.

So for the Tanks ended the 1917 campaign.




CHAPTER XI

THREE NEW TYPES OF TANK--THE DEPOT--CENTRAL WORKSHOPS


I

The “Fighting Side” had now been for many months almost exclusively
engaged with “operations,” and having fought themselves nearly to a
standstill at the Battle of Cambrai, were now in as urgent need of
reorganisation as were their machines of overhaul and repair.

The present chronicle has also for long followed their fortunes, with
not a glance to spare for the activities of the manufacturing and other
organisations which played the supporting parts “Aaron and Hur” to the
Fighting Side’s “Moses.”

At the period we have reached it is high time to pick up the dropped
histories of the other persons of the drama. For while the Tank Corps
had been fighting, manufacturers had been busy, and a huge network of
auxiliary services and organisations had grown up, by means of which
the whole Corps was to rise rejuvenated from its ashes.

Before the Tanks fought their next pitched battle the Mark V. had
come into being, Whippet Tanks had been issued, a heavy type of
infantry-carrying Tank had been designed, and for fast work on good
roads a Battalion of Armoured Cars had grown up.

Besides this, a complete system of Supply Tanks and Field Maintenance
Companies for salvage and supplies had been gradually evolved during
the course of the last campaign.

The Tank Corps Depot had been enormously enlarged, and had moved to its
final “location” on the coast near Le Tréport.

The Home Depot at Wool had also increased, and there had been changes
and developments at the Ministry of Munitions and in the Tank
production side generally.

It is in fact impossible in a single chapter to give more than a brief
indication of this universal and increasing “back area” activity.

To begin with the changes in the home organisation and in the
production of Tanks.

The “New” Tank Committee was, as we have already related, a success.

In December 1917 and January 1918 it saw a rather interesting new
phase, when Majors Drain and Alden, of the U.S. Tank Corps, attended
certain of its meetings, and when the manufacture for the British and
American Armies of the Mark VIII. or “Allied Tank” was decided upon.
This Tank was never fought, but its projection is perhaps interesting
as an example of inter-Allied solidarity.

By January 1918 proposals for an expansion from nine to eighteen
Battalions and for a reorganisation of Tank control had been put
forward.

These proposals were eventually (in April 1918) discussed by the
Inter-Allied Tank Committee, a sort of sub-committee of the Versailles
Conference, on which the British, French and American Tank Corps were
represented.

But neither men nor really constructive thought could then be spared
from the immediate needs of meeting the German onrush, and nothing was
done to realise their proposals until that onrush was finally stemmed.

But in July 1918 the business was taken up again. It was decided to
expand the Tank Corps to thirty-four Battalions armed with about six
thousand machines.


II

In December 1917 the manufacturing situation was not particularly
satisfactory. As late as August 20 the Commander-in-Chief had, it will
be remembered, laid down, in an official letter, an order of priority
in which there were four categories preferred to Tanks.

  “The manufacture of Tanks should not be allowed to interfere in any
  way with:

  “(1) The output of aeroplanes.

  “(2) The output of guns and ammunition.

  “(3) The provision of mechanical transport, spare parts therefor,
  and petrol tractors up to the scale demanded.

  “(4) The provision of locomotives up to the scale demanded.

And though by December the views of the authorities had changed
considerably, the sudden expansion of the Tank building programme was
not easy.

In October 1917, 700 Mark IV. Tanks had already been delivered in
France, and a balance of about 500 was still due. But the Fighting Side
was anxious that these should not all be of the unimproved Mark IV.
pattern. For up to now no change in the design had been made since the
first Mark IV. had been delivered. It was decided, therefore, that some
of the 500 should be given Ricardo engines and Epicyclic gears, and
that others should be fitted as Supply Tanks.

The M.W.S.D. hoped to build about 1600 new Heavy Tanks, 800 of which
were to be of the Mark V. type and ready by May 1, and the others to
be of other heavy types, probably Mark V. star and Mark VI., while 385
Whippet (“Medium A”) Tanks were also to be ready by May 1918.

Further, there was to be a small cadre of Salvage Tanks and of special
infantry Supply Tanks, two of the latter being able to carry complete
supplies for an infantry Brigade for one day.

A large number of these Tanks were as before to be built by the
Metropolitan Carriage and Wagon Company.

A very brief account of most of these new types of Tank has already
been given in Chapter I., and it is not necessary to repeat here the
details of their speeds, armament, and so forth.

Salvage Tanks were usually Mark IV. Tanks on which special gear, such
as winches and small cranes, had been fitted for hoisting wrecks out of
the mud, or for towing.

The Supply Tank was a Mark IV. fitted with very capacious sponsons. In
order to save weight these carriers were not made as fully armoured as
the fighting Tanks.

The Gun Carrier Tank was a machine with an elongated tail which formed
a platform whence it was intended that a 60-pounder gun or a 6-in.
howitzer could be fired.

The Tank Corps Armoured Cars were of the usual turreted pattern, and
were armed with machine-guns.

But more important than any other new development was the improvement
in the main issue of heavy Tanks, an improvement which is very well
described by the historian of the 13th Battalion:

  “The old Mark IV. type had serious disadvantages. Its engine power
  on bad ground was insufficient, and the clumsy secondary gears made
  turning slow and difficult as well as requiring the services of at
  least two members of the crew in addition to the driver. This, in
  battle, became a heavy handicap upon the fighting powers of the
  Tank. The officer was hampered by the need to attend to brakes,
  and a gunner called upon suddenly to help alter gears would lose
  the fleeting chance of firing at favourable targets. In the new
  Mark V. Tank these troubles largely disappeared. An engine of new
  design gave both greater speed and greater turning power, while
  a system of epicyclic gears made turning easy and under the sole
  control of the driver. The officer was free to supervise his crew,
  the gunner was free to use his weapons to the best advantage. Add
  that a greatly increased field of view was obtained by the addition
  of an observer’s turret, and it will be understood that an immense
  advance in type had been secured.”

The Mark V. had, however, one serious drawback. Its ventilation was
extremely faulty. We shall see later how serious a disadvantage this
was to prove.


III

There were also to be changes in the technical and mechanical
engineering side of the Tank Corps itself, by which an economy of
man-power was to be effected.

When the Tank Corps was first formed each Company had its own
workshops, and this system lasted to the end of 1916. Then in the
course of the winter reorganisation, Company Workshops were abolished
and Battalion Workshops were substituted.

By the autumn of 1917 the experiment was tried of centralising still
further and merging Battalion into Brigade Workshops, and early in 1918
it was decided to take the last step and to concentrate all repairs in
the Central Workshops.

This system, which achieved a great economy of skilled men, was made
possible by a very clear line of demarcation being drawn between
Repairs and Maintenance, a principle which had been laid down by
Colonel F. Searle, D.S.O., the chief engineer of the Corps and the head
of the whole mechanical side of the Tanks.

No damaged part was ever to be repaired on the field; mechanical
efficiency was to be maintained by the broken bit of mechanism being
immediately replaced by a complete new part.

This replacement was carried out by the crew, whose efficiency as
mechanics was enormously increased by being thus made responsible for
their own machines.

One point had, of course, to be carefully attended to in carrying out
this system. There had to be a very efficient supply organisation by
which the necessary spares were quickly available in the field.

When the crew had removed the damaged part from the Tank, it was sent
back to the Central Workshops to be repaired.

Here a specially skilled man would be always employed upon damages to
one particular part.

  [48]“For example, broken unions of petrol pipes commonly occur
  in all petrol engines, and if a small unit workshop exists, the
  brazing out and repair of such broken unions can be carried out
  there. But in order to do this a coppersmith must be kept at the
  unit workshop, and only part of his time will be employed in this
  work of brazing petrol unions. If now, however, all broken unions,
  from every unit, are sent back to a Central Workshop for repair,
  there is a sufficient amount of work of this description to keep
  one man, or possibly two or three men fully employed all their time.

  “These men become absolute experts in brazing broken unions, and
  before very long can do in a few minutes a job which would take a
  coppersmith with the unit workshop an hour or two to carry out.”

It is interesting to trace what might have been the itinerary of a Tank
from the time it left the manufacturers in about Midsummer 1917, till
after going into action in, say, the Third Battle of Ypres.

On completion every Tank was first sent to testing grounds at Newbury,
where it was manned by No. 20 Squadron R.N.A.S. From here it was
forwarded to Richborough, whence it was shipped by the Channel ferry
and received at Le Havre by another detachment of Squadron 20. Thence
it went to Bermicourt, was again tested, this time by Tank Corps
personnel, and then handed on to the Central Stores at Erin. These
stores were first established in 1917, and eventually consisted of
over seven acres of railway siding and six acres of buildings. The
Central Workshops were at one time also installed here, but as more
accommodation became necessary they were moved to Teneur, about a mile
and a half away.

From the Central Stores the Tanks would be issued to Battalions as
needed.

For example, during the Third Battle of Ypres a large number of Tanks
were supplied to Companies actually in the line. We will suppose that
a particular Tank was so supplied, and received a bullet through its
carburettor during one of the small actions of the end of October.

The crew would immediately draw a new carburettor from the
neighbouring mobile advanced store, which was run by one of the two
Tank Salvage or Field Companies.

Thus re-equipped the Tank would again go into action, perhaps within a
day of being damaged.

This time we will suppose that the Tank got knocked out between the
first and second objective by a direct hit, the unwounded members of
the crew going forward with their Lewis guns and leaving the Tank
stranded and immovable.

The position of the derelict having been reported, men from a Tank
Salvage Company would go up that night, probably under shell-fire, and
possibly in full view of the enemy whenever a Véry light went up.

The experts would arrive at the wreck with their favourite set of
repairing tools, possibly consisting of the specially designed
Tank-repairing outfit, but more probably of a few pet spanners, some
odd lengths of tubing and a coil of copper wire. They would toil at the
Tank till dawn.

Sometimes after one or more nights spent like this they would induce
the Tank to go. In the Ypres area Tanks were sometimes salved that had
completely disappeared into the mud. Sometimes it was possible to tow a
machine away, particularly after the special salvage Tanks with their
hoisting gear came into use. Sometimes only _disjecta membra_, such as
engine parts, 6-pounders, or parts of the gears or transmissions, could
be saved.

During the two years of their existence the Field Companies, at the
lowest computation, saved two or three million pounds’ worth of stores,
a work which they did not accomplish without heavy cost to themselves.

We will suppose that the Tank whose history we have followed was salved
whole.

The next step would be that it would be entrained by the Field Company
and sent back to the Central Workshops at Teneur.

This was really a vast engineering works covering about twenty acres
of ground, where, besides a very large number of trained and expert
mechanics, more than a thousand Chinese coolies worked.

These coolies often became very dexterous artisans.

Here, in endless ranks down the long shops, they would toil
indefatigably, in the summer stripped to the waist, their brown bodies
gleaming in the white light of the arc lamps or in the glow of the
forges, or in the winter dressed in their loose blue quilted jackets
and close caps with curious rabbits’ fur ear-lappets.

Possibly the shattered or burnt-out Tank would have to be almost
entirely rebuilt, two wrecked Tanks providing, perhaps, parts enough
to make one good one. Here, finally, the reconstructed Tank would be
tested and sent back to the Central Stores.

Possibly it would have been reduced to a sort of “C. III.” category,
and made into a Supply Tank. Possibly it would have been fitted with
all the latest gadgets, and come out from its reforging a better weapon
than it was originally.

For the activities of the Central Workshops were not confined to mere
repair. It will be remembered how they distinguished themselves in
the matter of the lightning delivery of fascines, releasing gear, and
supply sledges for the Battle of Cambrai.

A large proportion, too, of the experiments which led to improvements
in the design of Tanks were carried out here; for example, the long
Tank and the unditching beam were of Central Workshops origin, and
here the officers who fought the Tanks could have their ideas for
gadgets sympathetically reviewed and put to practical proof by the
band of expert engineers that Lieut.-Colonel Brocklebank had brought
together. But they were more than mere experts; they were enthusiasts
whose unflagging zeal had created the marvel of Central Workshops where
there had been bare ploughland so short a time before.


IV

We have traced a Tank from its setting forth from home with unscratched
paint through the vicissitudes of battle to its remoulding as a greatly
improved machine or to its relegation to “Permanent Base.”

How would the military history run of a member of a Tank crew which had
fought, say, at the Battle of Cambrai?

We have already related how the Tank Corps was chiefly recruited
in early days, that is, either from among mechanical experts or
from volunteers from other branches of the Service. Later men with
no special qualifications were taken by direct enlistment. We will
suppose, however, that 1234 Pte. John Smith got his transfer from
the West Surreys when in the line in about June 1917, and that at
that moment the training schools in France had no vacancies. To their
great joy, therefore, Pte. Smith and his batch would be sent home for
training to the Tank Depot at Wool.

Here was a huge camp where men like themselves, who had seen fighting,
and also men fresh from the Recruiting Depots, were being formed into
the new Tank Battalions. By July about nine of these new Battalions
were in training. The men went through the usual recruits’ curriculum.
First of all, drill, discipline and physical training; then individual
courses in Tank Gunnery, Driving and Maintenance. Then they would go
through the Signalling, Revolver and Compass Schools, the Gas and
Reconnaissance Schools.

There was also here an Officer Cadet Preliminary Training Company where
the same sort of instruction was given. Gunners at this time did all
their firing practice with 6-pounders at the Naval School of Gunnery,
Chatham, or rather, to be exact, on “H.M.S. Excellent,” Whale Island.
All the other courses were gone through in and around the camp.

Practically, only individual instruction was given at Wool, and their
collective and tactical training was done by the men at Bermicourt,
after their arrival in France. At Wool it was reckoned that, with this
important omission, nearly four months would usually be occupied in
raising and training a Tank Battalion. It would, therefore, be towards
the end of September that Pte. Smith found himself in France.

He was, he found, to be detailed to one of the old Battalions, and was,
therefore, despatched to the Training and Reinforcement Depot, then
established at Erin, and later to be moved to Le Tréport.

Here he was attached to a Reception Company, put through a kind of
examination in the subjects he had studied at Wool, but passing
satisfactorily and his records being duly completed, he was issued
with his kit and equipment and posted to his Company. He was soon
sent to join it at an improvised training area where it was at this
moment “resting” from the Battle of Ypres. It was not actually having a
particularly restful time, as tactical training with the infantry was
in progress, and there was more than enough night work in the programme.

[Illustration: SLEDGE-TOWING TANK TAKING UP SUPPLIES]

[Illustration: BERMICOURT CHATEAU NEAR ST. POL.

TANK CORPS MAIN HEADQUARTERS]

[Illustration: GUN-CARRYING TANK TAKING UP A HOWITZER]

[Illustration: A WHIPPET GOING IN]

This phase did not last long, however, for the Company was soon sent
back to join its Battalion in the Salient, where they executed an
astonishing number of moves and were considerably shelled, but never
succeeded in getting into action.

After that they were hurried off to do intensive training for Cambrai.
Then came the battle, in the last three days of which a very much
exhausted 2nd Driver Smith was wounded in the face by a bullet splash.
The trouble was not serious enough to get him to England, and on
his return from an all too brief stay in a Hospital in France, he
again found himself at the Depot. This time, after only a day in the
Reception Company and after a medical examination, he was posted for
fourteen days to the Seaside Rest Camp at Merlimont.

This Rest Camp consisted of rows and rows of rather pretty bungalows
built among the sand dunes. Here both men and officers were given a
very pleasant time, though they were still under military discipline
and had a certain number of parades to keep. For the officers there was
a comfortable club, and for the men an exceedingly well-run Y.M.C.A.
hut, where there were concerts or pierrot shows almost nightly--either
home-grown or imported.

Games and, in summer, swimming and bathing were great features. There
is no doubt, first, that the Camp was immensely popular, and, secondly,
that the Tank Corps owed a good deal of its cheerful spirit and high
_moral_ to the refreshment which the Camp afforded to many a weary body
and mind.

After this fortnight by the sea Smith rejoined his Battalion, and was,
with the rest of the Tank world, plunged into winter training.


V

The general organisation of the 1917–18 training, though, of course, on
a much larger scale, was very much like that of the previous winter.
New training centres had been established and old centres extended.

But perhaps a chronicle of the numbers who passed through these courses
of instruction at Wailly, Le Tréport, Bermicourt and Merlimont, and of
the sequence in which the different Brigades took their turns at the
different areas, might prove less interesting than a brief account of
what was actually taught and of the sort of way a syllabus would be
carried out.

In the official “Instructions for the Training of the Tank Corps in
France” these are the sort of general principles we find laid down:

  “All work must be carried out at high pressure. Every exercise and
  movement should, if possible, be reduced to a precise drill.

  “Games will be organised as a definite part of training (see S.S.
  137, ‘Recreational Training’).

  “Order is best cultivated by carrying out all work on a fixed plan.
  Order is the foundation of discipline. Small things like marching
  men always at attention to and from work, making them stand to
  attention before dismissing them, assist in cultivating steadiness
  and discipline. Each day should commence with a careful inspection
  of the billets and the men, or some similar formal parade. Strict
  march discipline to and from the training grounds must be insisted
  upon.

  “It is an essential part of training for war that the men are
  taught to care for themselves, so as to maintain their physical
  fitness. To this end the necessity for taking the most scrupulous
  care of their clothing, equipment and accoutrements will be
  explained to them.”

The following is the syllabus (slightly condensed) of a Maintenance
Course for Tank Commanders:

  How to drive a Tank.

  How to set a magneto.

  When an engine is misfiring or overheating.

  When an engine is knocking too badly to continue working or is not
  pulling.

  When carburation is bad.

  When a Tank is at such an angle that it is dangerous to run the
  engine.

  The causes of engine failures and how to correct them.

  How the autovac works.

  The correct tension for fan belts.

  When an engine bed is loose.

  How much petrol, oil, grease, and water should be used during
  average hour’s run.

  When road chain sprocket wheels or pinions should be changed.

  How long it takes to change a set of sprocket wheels and pinions.

  When a track or the Coventry driving chains are too slack.

  When a clutch is too fierce, and how to correct it.

  When a clutch is slipping, and how to adjust it.

  When secondary gears are too much worn for further service, and
  what is the effect of their not being fully in mesh.

  How long it takes to change such gears.

  When tracks or secondary gears are over or under lubricated.

  When brakes are operative or not.

  How long it takes to prepare a Tank for a day’s run.

  How long it takes thoroughly to clean and adjust a Tank after a
  day’s work.

  How long it takes to detrain Tanks and adjust sponsons.

  How the equipment of a Tank should be stowed.

  The appliances which are necessary to dismantle various sections of
  a Tank, and how it should be done.

  That it is just as necessary for a Company Commander to inspect
  Tanks daily as it is for a Cavalry Squadron Commander to inspect
  his horses.

For an interesting “Immediate Action Course,” _i.e._, first aid to the
engine, the following directions are given to instructors:

  “In order to inspire confidence at the outset, particular stress
  should be laid upon the fact that in a Tank there are practically
  only three causes of engine failure--Valves--Ignition--Petrol.

  “If this is borne in mind, a very little experience in the simple
  operations connected with these three functions, coupled with a
  little training in diagnosis, will enable students to deal very
  easily with troubles as they occur.

  “Drivers should know by the ‘feel’ of their engine whether it is
  firing correctly or not, and any member of a crew ought to be able
  to detect and report at once any irregularity in the sound of an
  exhaust from outside the machine.

  “When the students have been through a course (using the book) of
  what to do when:

  “1. The Engine won’t start,

  “2. Engine starts and stops after a few Revs,

  “3. Irregular sound of exhaust--machine will not climb,

  “4. Popping back of Carburettor,

  “5. Overheating and knocking,

  the Instructor is to set up faults for the students to remedy.”

He is given ideas for nearly fifteen ways of producing the symptom
“Engine won’t start.”

  “It is suggested that the Instructor should insert a piece of
  paper between the platinum points in the little magneto, or fit a
  faulty contact breaker with a stiff rocker in the big magneto, or
  smear segments and outside of the distributor with a little dirty
  oil; if he desires to queer the plugs, he may insert one with its
  gap closed up or bridged with dirt or with a cracked insulation.
  To produce symptom No. 2, he may insert a punctured float in the
  Carburettor or insert a piece of rag in the passage between the
  float chamber and the jets, or block a cock under the Autovac. Or
  in order to produce an irregular sound in the exhaust and to make
  the machine refuse to climb, he may remove the roller and pin from
  one or more inlet valves; or place two faulty plugs in the engine.
  To make the engine overheat, he is to insert an extra link in the
  Radiator Fan Bolt, open the Air Slide, or start a leak in one or
  more of the water outlet elbows. He may make the engine tap and
  rattle by adjusting the valves with abnormal clearances, and so on
  with the number of other defects, which each student in turn is to
  be called upon to diagnose and remedy.”

For the conduct of a “Refresher” Battle Practice Course the following
points are suggested for the guidance of instructors:

  “The ammunition required for each man firing will be 20 rounds of
  shell, 5 rounds of case shot, and 250 rounds of S.A.A.

  “Before beginning a Battle Practice, the following points must be
  seen to:

  “That each practice or scheme is of a practical nature, _i.e._,
  that it should bring out certain lessons under as near battle
  conditions as possible.

  “All ports, etc., in the Tanks will be closed during the practice.
  Targets should represent as nearly as possible those met with in
  action. The practice must not be hurried and the Tank must never
  contain more than the normal crew. Students should be allowed to
  ride on the top of the Tanks, in order to observe the fire effect.
  In this way, by observing the faults of others, they should be able
  to avoid committing the same errors themselves, when their turn
  comes to fire.

  “Battle Practice exercises must be regarded by the Tank Crews as
  what the Field firing practices are to the Infantry.

  “Vizors and Gas-Masks must frequently be worn during a Battle
  Practice Course.

  “Before the Battle Practice begins, Crews and Gunners will form up
  outside the Tanks and the scheme of attack will be explained to
  them; also how it is intended to carry out the attack and what are
  their objectives. All drivers and gunners must fully understand the
  scheme of attack and what is expected of them; they must be told to
  ask their Tank Commander to explain any point that does not appear
  clear to them. Positions where Anti-Tank guns are expected must be
  pointed out to them on a map, and other information of this type
  may be given. This will add to the keenness and interest of the men.

  “Drivers must be reminded that the goodness or badness of the
  shooting will probably depend upon their driving.

  “The Gunnery Officer must see that the targets are sited properly;
  he should always go over the Course in a Tank previous to the
  practice to satisfy himself on these points.

  “If flashes are to be used, or moving targets employed, he must
  see that the fatigue men know their work, and the Gunnery Officer
  should always give these fatigue men one rehearsal before a Battle
  Practice Course, as it is most important for everything to go
  smoothly on the day.

  “N.C.O. Instructors must be told off, one to each gun in the Tank
  which is firing, and their duty will be to see that points taught
  in the elementary training are brought into play and that the
  necessary safety precautions are adhered to.

  “There will always be a conference at the end of each Battle
  Practice exercise. All members of the crews, students, instructors,
  etc., will attend. Constructive criticism and encouragement should
  be the tone of the conference. Faults brought to light should be
  carefully explained so that all can hear, learn and correct, in
  the future. The Gunner is as anxious to learn and to improve his
  shooting as is the Instructor to have a pupil who will do him
  credit.”

Very excellent courses were also arranged in the Reconnaissance
Schools. But almost the most interesting of the Reconnaissance Side’s
activities was the series of improvised courses--outdoor schemes,
indoor practices and lectures which they arranged during the weary time
while the Tank Corps “stood to quarters” through January, February and
early March 1918.

The events of this time we propose to chronicle in the next chapter but
one.

There had by this time been many other Tank activities which we have
not at present chronicled at all. The French had trained and equipped a
Tank Corps. The Americans were busy with Tanks, and a Detachment of our
own Corps had fought in two engagements in Palestine.


_Note to Chapter XI_

Stories of the early days of Wool are related in the 6th Battalion
History.

When the first few consignments of Tanks were sent to the Camp at
Bovington from Wool Station the most elaborate precautions were taken
to secure the machines from the eyes of the profane.

The route was guarded by military policemen marshalled by A.P.M.’s.
All civilian traffic was stopped, and--as if the Tanks had been so
many Lady Godivas--all the blinds in the front rooms of the farms
and cottages which bordered the roads had to be drawn, and all the
inhabitants were relegated to the back rooms.

This ritual was observed every time a batch of Tanks arrived.

One farmer remarked that he was delighted to help keep the secret in
any manner that seemed good to the authorities, but he thought they
might like to know that a day or two before a Tank had broken down and
that he and his horses had helped to tow it into his yard, where it had
remained for forty-eight hours.




CHAPTER XII

THE FRENCH TANK CORPS--AMERICAN TANKS AND BRITISH TANKS IN EGYPT


It is said that there is something in the Anglo-Saxon mind which has a
special affinity for committees.

“Enough,” said the logical Asiatic when the doctrine of the Trinity was
being explained to him by the English missionary, “I understand you
perfectly. It is a Committee of three.”

At least, there is no doubt that the British Tank sprang from
committees, and was matured and licked into shape entirely by a large
assortment of these excellent bodies.

So with the American Tank Corps. Three or four names are equally
illustrious in its early annals.

But with the French, one man, and one man only, stands out as the
Father and Mother of Tanks. He was the General Swinton, the Sir Albert
Stern, and the General Elles of the French Tanks. That is to say, he
was first the principal independent inventor, deriving his inspiration
(in early 1915) from Holt Tractors which he saw at work with the
British. Then he was for long the principal “propellant” of the Tank
idea in official quarters, and was the Commander-in-Chief’s delegate to
the Ministry of Munitions in the matter of Tanks. Finally, on September
30, 1916, he was gazetted “Commandant de l’Artillerie d’Assaut[49] aux
Armées.”

So much did the personality of this remarkable man permeate and
vitalise the French Tank Corps that we offer no apology to the
reader in setting forth the following delightful miniature biography
of General Estienne by the hand of Major Robert Spencer, the British
Liaison Officer to the French Tank Corps:

  “Jean Baptiste Eugène Estienne was born at Condé en Barrois
  (Lorraine) on November 7, 1860. Owing to the trend of events during
  the Franco-Prussian War of 1870–71 his school, the Lycée of Bar le
  Duc, was forced to shut, and it was whilst enjoying an enforced
  holiday at the age of ten years at Condé with his parents that
  his idea of embracing a military career was born. He was one day
  an interested spectator of the passage of a column of Prussian
  artillery through the paved streets of his native town, and was
  lost in youthful admiration of this display of military power. He
  hastened back to tell his parents of his decision one day to enter
  as a conqueror into a town with his guns clattering behind him.

  “From this hour he became wedded to an artillery-man’s life, and
  in due course passed in and out of the famous École Polytechnique,
  where his mathematical ability enjoyed full scope.

  “In due course, too, he passed through the artillery school of
  Fontainebleau, and in 1884 entered the garrison town of Vannes as a
  Second Lieutenant.

  “Promoted Captain in 1891, he completed his studies in the use
  of the _collimateur_[50] and became the apostle of the use of
  direct fire for field artillery, which he eventually succeeded
  in introducing in the French Army. In 1909 he was summoned to
  Vincennes with a view to determining if any use could be made of
  aeroplanes in conjunction with field artillery, and succeeded in
  establishing a part for F.A. aircraft service. This, however, was
  transferred to the R.E. and Lieut.-Colonel Estienne consequently
  asked to be returned to regimental duty.

  “In 1913 he was again summoned to Vincennes to continue his
  research, and was here at the outbreak of war, when he obtained
  command of the 22nd Regiment of Artillery. This he commanded in
  Belgium and throughout the retreat from Charleroi to the Seine.
  He had with him his two experimental aeroplanes, which rendered
  invaluable service during the Battle of the Marne, where he served
  under General Pétain.

  “It was during the retreat that Colonel Estienne first spoke to
  members of his Staff of the future which would attend a machine
  capable of crossing ploughed fields and trenches, transporting arms
  and men. With this thought in his mind he was wont to invite his
  casual visitors and members of his Staff to assume all manner of
  peculiar attitudes under tables, etc., with a view to determining
  how many human beings could conveniently be crammed in a certain
  cubic area.

  “His last command before being selected to father the future _Chars
  d’Assaut_ was at Verdun, when he did not hesitate to employ a
  barrage of his heavy guns to break up a threatening German attack.

  “As a man he appears to enjoy perpetual youth. He is short of
  stature, with no neck and a large round head. His hair is white,
  plentiful and worn _en brosse_, and he appears to be clean-shaven,
  so short is his clipped white moustache.

  “Two things strike one immediately, the charm of his perennial
  smile and the quick brilliance of his brown eyes.

  “As a raconteur he is inimitable, whilst as a lecturer his
  marvellous power of expression, his command of vocabulary and his
  convincing use of simile make it possible for him to communicate to
  his less erudite audiences a certain measure of his vast knowledge.
  This is by no means confined to military subjects, and his power of
  quotation from the classics is marked, whilst he has at least once
  published a lengthy poem in a volume dealing with the mathematics
  of gunnery.

  “As an ardent philologist, he bristles all over at the sound of
  the word ‘Tancque’ from French lips, and opens a violent crusade
  against the use of foreign words as a substitute for good French
  equivalents.

  “His voice is loud and resonant and his speech accompanied by
  frequent gestures, his favourite being the placing of his left hand
  flat upon his chest as if he implies that his utterances emanate
  from his heart.

  “He possesses many characteristic attitudes, and when in
  conversation is often to be seen tossing his _képi_ from one side
  of his head to the other. In fact it is scarcely ever to be seen
  except jauntily tilted over one ear.

  “His admiration for the cavalryman at the head of a triumphal entry
  into a town is reduced to nothingness by his conviction that he is
  useless in modern war. He would prefer to see a victorious General
  enter a town on foot, escorted by a section of _Chars d’Assaut_, as
  being more typical of the present-day battlefield.

  “He is himself a great walker, and may frequently be seen alone,
  wearing, as is his wont, a pair of pale blue spats or gaiters, a
  relic of the Empire uniform, and in summer no socks.

  “This latter habit was recommended to him by a friend, and its
  adoption by him is typical of the man in that he is always prepared
  to give careful thought and personal trial to any scheme laid
  before him.

  “To this quality, added to his immense personal charm and vast
  experience, is due his undoubted right to rank amongst the big men
  of this war, a successful issue to which has ever been the dream of
  his life.”

On December 1, 1915, Colonel Estienne wrote an official letter to the
Commander-in-Chief of the French Armies in which he outlined the idea
of a new engine of war exactly as Colonel Swinton had done earlier
in the year to our own War Office. A few days later he was given an
interview at French General Headquarters, when he was able to enlarge
upon his theories as to the new arm. Here he must, one conjectures,
have received some encouragement, for about a week afterwards he
visited the Schneider Engineering Works in Paris and discussed
mechanical details with the management.

But the good seed which Colonel Estienne had sown at Headquarters
would, he knew, take some time to germinate. He returned to his
command, now the artillery of the 3rd Corps, at that time before
Verdun. All the while he kept unofficially in touch with the Schneider
Works.

At last, about February 25, 1916, he learned that the Under-Secretary’s
Department for Artillery had decided to place an order for 400 armoured
vehicles with Schneider’s.

But about two months later, at the end of April, he heard a more
surprising piece of news.

The Under-Secretary’s Department had, without the approval of the
Commander-in-Chief or any notice to him, Estienne, placed an order for
a further 400 vehicles of a different and heavier type, driven by a
petrol-electric motor.

Curious as was their parentage, these 400 machines were actually made
and were known as the St. Chamond Tanks. It is said to have been upon
stolen drawings of this type that the Germans afterwards based their
still heavier, “Hagens” and “Schultzes.”

In the course of the summer, the new French Ministry of Munitions
formed an experimental and instructional area at Marly-le-Roi, and in
the early autumn, Colonel Estienne was gazetted to the command of the
French Tanks, and, as we have said, to be delegate, as far as this arm
was concerned, from the Commander-in-Chief to the Ministry of Munitions.

Like the British, the French were beginning to need a name for their
new engine of war.

But more logical than we, instead of an absurd, if pleasant, nickname,
they chose “Artillerie d’Assaut,” which they contracted into the
letters “A.S.,” as being more agreeable to the ear than “A.A.”

Apparently Colonel Estienne had no preliminary inkling of what our
activities had been in the “Land Cruiser” direction.

It is interesting to conjecture how eagerly he must have read of what
was happening on the Somme during the fortnight before he was finally
gazetted to his new post. His “heart” must, indeed, have been “at our
festival” when the British Tanks were everywhere acclaimed by the
public, and when even the most conservative soldiers had to admit that
the new weapon had at least earned a right to further trial.

In October 1916 a training centre for personnel was established at
Champlieu, on the southern edge of the Forest of Compiègne, and here in
December the first lot of sixteen Schneider Tanks were delivered, other
batches both of Schneiders and St. Chamonds following them during the
succeeding months, until, in April 1917, nine Schneider Companies and
one St. Chamond Company and their crews were ready for action.

On April 16, 1917, French Tanks took part in their first battle,
fighting with the 5th French Army in the attempted penetration of the
Chemin des Dames.

Of the eight Schneider Companies employed, five succeeded in reaching
their third and final objectives, but owing to lack of previous
training with the infantry, the attack as a whole was not very
successful, and the Tanks, though they played an exceedingly gallant
part, suffered severely.

A week or two later, one St. Chamond and two Schneider Companies took
part in a hurriedly prepared operation with the 6th Army.

The Schneiders did extremely well, but of sixteen St. Chamond machines,
only one managed to cross the German trenches. All through the summer
months, the 6th French Army was preparing another attack on the west
of the Chemin des Dames, and for this battle, warned by their previous
experiences, infantry and Tanks trained diligently together, special
detachments known as _troupes d’accompagnement_ being taught how to
help the Tanks over trenches.

But the agile mind of Colonel Estienne was not content. He had had
another idea. This time his mind had worked at the idea of the armoured
attacking force from a slightly different standpoint.

He envisaged waves of armoured skirmishers attacking in open order,
each man possessing besides his armour a quick-firing weapon with which
he could shoot as he advanced.

Now, armour which will protect from machine-gun and rifle fire is too
heavy for human legs. The armour must be independently propelled. More,
if its occupant is to fire as he advances, it must carry him as well
as itself. This postulates an engine, and if there is an engine, there
must be a second man to look after it. This set of propositions he laid
before the Rénault firm in July 1916, and the design of the famous
Rénault Tank was evolved.

But the Ministry would have none of it.

However, the designs were worked out in greater detail, and at the end
of November 1916 Colonel Estienne proposed to the Commander-in-Chief
that a number of such machines should be constructed. A few, he
explained, had already been ordered to act as “Command” Tanks for the
heavy Battalions. The Commander-in-Chief consented to a trial.

This, however, was not held until March 1917, and when it had been
held, the Ministry were still not convinced.

Therefore, still further demonstrations were arranged in May, when at
last they ceased to doubt, and finally, in June 1917, ordered 3500 of
the new machines.

In October the five Companies of heavy Tanks, which had been in
training all summer, were launched when the 6th Army delivered its blow
at Malmaison.

As before, the Schneider Companies were successful, and again the St.
Chamond Tanks were nearly all unable so much as to get into action.

Still, at the end of October the general verdict was that the French
heavies had justified themselves, though many soldiers of the old
school still doubted their utility.

But in November the British Tanks fought the Battle of Cambrai, and all
doubts were finally dispelled from the French mind.

It is to be imagined that Colonel Estienne did not fail to rub in the
facts proved by that engagement.

They were facts which it was impossible to deny or to overlook. The
Ministry removed its hold from the brakes, and from that moment life
behind the scenes of the French Tank Corps became happy. It was decided
to form thirty light Tank Battalions, each Battalion to consist of
seventy-five machines, and the firms of Schneider, Rénault and Berliet
were all set to work upon their manufacture, while over a thousand
machines were ordered in America.

All the winter of 1917–18, the French Tank Corps, like the British,
continued to train and to organise.

For the future of the French Tanks was to be a brilliant one.

Those matchless givers of “unsolicited testimonials,” the German
General Staff, attributed the great victories which the late summer of
1918 brought to the French arms, chiefly to the employment of “masses
of Tanks.”

Naturally the annals of the French Tank Corps are full of stories of
individual deeds of gallantry.

  _Chevrel, R. C., Brigadier, 505th Regt., Chars Légers._

  “In the course of an attack he refused to abandon his Tank, which
  remained isolated in the German lines. Protected by his turret, he
  ceaselessly opened machine-gun fire on the surrounding enemy, and
  shot down with his revolver those who succeeded in approaching the
  Tank and who called upon him to surrender. For thirty-six hours
  he never slackened. Finally rescued by our advancing troops, he
  immediately undertook the unditching of his Tank and volunteered to
  support the further advance of the infantry, and then brought his
  Tank to the rallying point.

  Médaille militaire and Croix de Guerre with Palm.”--Official
  Gazette, dated October 26, 1918.

  _Cellier, Pierre, Brigadier in 35th Co., 11th Heavy Battery._

  “This soldier, on July 18, when his Tank had been hit by a shell,
  placed himself at the head of fifteen American soldiers and stalked
  a position whence the Germans were using many machine-guns to
  resist the attack. These he engaged with an automatic rifle and
  forced the Germans to surrender after an hour’s struggle. This act
  resulted in the capture of fifteen officers, including one Colonel,
  guns and numerous machine-guns.

  Chevalier de la Légion d’Honneur and Croix de Guerre with
  Palm.”--Official Gazette.

  _Dr. Gilles, Raoul Jules Gustave, Cte. in the 506th Regt., Chars
  Légers._

  “Although blinded by wounds, brought his Tank back into French
  lines guided (by signals tapped on his shoulders) by the Tank
  Commander Maréchal de logis Joseph, who was himself wounded in the
  stomach.

  Médaille militaire and Croix de Guerre with Palm.”--Official
  Gazette, No. 2127 “D,” July 26, 1918.

Colonel Estienne was promoted to the rank of General of Division and
received the Cravat de la Légion d’Honneur, and the Commander-in-Chief
of the French Armies issued the following special Order of the Day to
the French Tank Corps:

          “Vous avez bien mérite (de) la Patrie.”


AMERICAN TANKS

By the time the United States of America declared War (April 1917) the
value of Tanks had already been demonstrated in battle by the British
in the Somme Offensive, and by the end of October 1916 the French were
already training with their first machines. It is not, therefore,
surprising that the Americans, with their great experience of Tractors
(it was, the reader will remember, an American Tractor that was the
chief ingredient in the make-up of the Mark I.) had a strong desire to
include this new arm in their Expeditionary Force.

Colonel Rockenbach, who was later to command the American Tank Corps in
the field, was detailed to initiate preliminaries. He arrived in France
in June 1917, and followed General Pershing to Chaumont, the United
States General Headquarters, where he immediately occupied himself with
the future organisation of the Corps.

By September 23, 1917, the provisional American Tank Corps
establishment had been approved. It was to be of a size to match
the original Expeditionary Force, which was to be limited to twenty
Divisions and ten replacement Divisions--that is to say, to one Army.
The American Tank Corps in France was to consist of five Heavy and
twenty Light Battalions, with the usual complement of Headquarters
Units, Depot Companies, instructors and Workshops; and, in the United
States, a Training Centre, accommodating two Heavy and two Light
Battalions, was to be maintained. When the American Expeditionary Force
was increased to three Armies, a new Tank Establishment was authorised
to match it. There were to be five Brigades per Army. These Brigades
were to consist of one Heavy and two Light Battalions. The Light Tanks
were to be of the French Rénault type, and the Heavy were to be of the
British pattern. The first Tanks with which the Americans were equipped
were, in fact, actually of French or British manufacture, but as soon
as an establishment was sanctioned, Tank manufacture was pushed forward
in America, and by the time the Armistice was signed, there were
several thousand American-made machines ready for shipment.

So keen on the Tanks were Americans, that private enterprise was not
idle, and early in October 1918 a three-and-a-half-ton Ford Tank
arrived in France. This tank, indeed, had the honour to be the first
American-made Tank to appear in France. But though it was extremely
agile and handy, its designers had not quite succeeded in producing a
genuine fighting machine. It could, however, be turned out quickly and
in great quantities, and in spite of its defects, it was thought in
America that it would be worth while to continue its construction, and
tradition has it that no less than 10,000 of these little Ford Tanks
were ordered.

In the autumn of 1917, a number of American officers who were later on
to have charge of the organising and training of the new Tank Corps
were sent on visits to the British and French Brigades, to learn as
much as they could, both from the mistakes and successes of the two
older Corps. By February 1918, there were a large number of volunteers
for the American Tank Corps, some in England at Wool, who were to form
the American Heavy Section, and others (about 500) at Burg in France,
where a Training Centre was being formed for instruction in the Light
French Rénault machines. At Burg were ten French Tanks which were
used for training purposes, and in the course of the summer, as the
personnel to be trained increased, this number was added to, and at the
end of August 124 Rénault Tanks were delivered to the Training Centre
for impending operations.

Two Light Battalions were formed into a Brigade under Colonel G. S.
Patton, Junr., and they proceeded to the St. Mihiel Salient. Here they
went into action with the First American Army on September 12, the
first occasion on which United States Forces fought independently.

But, alas, it was our First Battle of the Somme over again! Nobody
quite understood the habits of the new beasts, and unfortunately
both Battalions were called upon to trek over twenty kilometres to
their lying-up places from the railhead, and, the ground in the back
area being very difficult, they did not succeed in catching up the
infantry at all on the first day. The enemy resistance was, however,
very feeble, as they had already decided to give up the Salient, but
misfortune still dogged the unhappy Tanks. They had run out of petrol,
and no supplies being immediately available, they were not able to get
into action on the second day.

On the third day, however, they did get into the fight, but by this
time the enemy had been thoroughly demoralised by the American
infantry, and there was little more for them to do than to receive the
surrender of a number of prisoners. The two Battalions suffered hardly
at all in casualties and were withdrawn practically intact.

The American Light Tanks next appeared at the beginning of October in
the Argonne, in operations where they fought side by side with French
Tank Units. This time the two Battalions had much better luck, and
though they must have been a good deal handicapped by the fact that
they and the infantry with whom they were to co-operate had had no
opportunity of training together, the Tanks rendered good service. All
the machines were launched on the first day, although in the original
plan of the battle, it had been proposed to hold back a reserve for the
second day; but the infantry had been held up, and the reserve Tanks
had, instead, to go to the rescue in the afternoon of the first day.
From this time to October 13 these two Battalions were continuously
at the disposal of the infantry. But, as with us in the early days,
the infantry do not seem to have had a very clear idea of the uses
and limitations of the Tanks, and the Battalions were frequently
called upon to traverse many weary miles--much to the detriment of
their machines--without finally being ordered into action. On one or
two occasions they were used for independent reconnaissance and for
unsupported assaults upon positions which the infantry had failed
to capture. By the middle of October the long distance covered and
losses in battle had caused the numbers of the two Battalions to
dwindle exceedingly, and they were formed into a provisional Company,
which accompanied the advance of the American Forces right up to the
Armistice.

A Third Light Battalion had also been mobilised and supplied by the
French with seventy-two Tanks. Recruiting, too, had been continued and
there were no less than 7000 officers and men awaiting admission to the
Corps at Burg alone.

Meanwhile, on August 24, 1918, the 301st U. S. Heavy Battalion had left
Wool for France, and was almost immediately sent to the forward area,
where it was attached to begin with to the 1st and later to the 4th and
2nd British Tank Brigades. With the 4th Brigade and still later with
the 2nd Tank Brigade the 301st was, as we shall see in Chapters XX and
XXI, destined to take part in several successful actions.

The 301st had based its methods of training almost entirely upon
British lines, and though the American Tank Corps would undoubtedly
have struck out improvements and methods of its own had the war gone
on, the 301st, being throughout its active service brigaded with
British Tanks, very wisely adopted a battle organisation practically
uniform with the British. Only in minor details did their habits
vary. Their reconnaissance procedure, for instance, was almost
exactly like ours, except for one improvement. Special Reconnaissance
N.C.O.’s relieved Reconnaissance Officers, Tank Commanders and Section
Commanders from the work of guiding the machines on approach marches.
From the tankodromes to the lining-up points the Tanks were in charge
of these N.C.O.’s, who were directly under the orders of the Battalion
Reconnaissance Officer. This system worked out extremely well.

In later chapters we shall see how worthy a representative both of the
arms of the United States and of the best traditions of the British
Tank Corps the 301st Battalion proved themselves in the supreme test of
battle.

In February 1919, to the regret of their British colleagues, the men
of the 301st sailed for America, when General Elles expressed the
sentiments of all ranks of his Corps in a special order.

                              “_February 15, 1919._

  “1. On the departure of the 301st American Tank Battalion, I wish
  to place on record my appreciation of the services it has rendered.

  2. The Battalion has practically formed part of the British Tank
  Corps since April 1918, and while fully maintaining its national
  identity, has co-operated with British troops and adapted itself to
  British methods with a spirit that deserves fullest recognition.

  3. In the field the 301st Battalion, after experiencing heavy
  casualties in its first engagement at Bony, which might have
  deterred less determined troops, volunteered for the next action,
  in which, as in subsequent ones, it inflicted heavy casualties upon
  the enemy at Brancourt, the Selle and Catillon.

  4. I feel I am voicing the opinion of all commanders and troops who
  have been associated with them, in expressing sincere regret at the
  departure of our American comrades and in wishing them all good
  fortune in the future.

                                  (_Signed_) H. J. ELLES,
                                    Major-General,
                              Commanding Tank Corps in the Field.”


TANKS IN PALESTINE

_The Second and Third Battles of Gaza, April and November 1917_

    “Gaza yet stands, but all her sons are fallen,
    All in a moment overwhelmed and fallen.”

                                        _Samson Agonistes._

The Tanks that had fought in the Battle of the Somme, in the autumn of
1916, had proved successful enough for the authorities to consider that
a test ought to be made of their capabilities in some other theatre of
war.

Accordingly a small--a very small--detachment of Tanks was sent to
“assist our troops in the Sinai Peninsula.”

Unfortunately only eight Tanks were ultimately sent, and
further,[51]“through an unfortunate error, old experimental machines
were sent out instead of new ones as intended.”

The experiment was thus upon so extremely miniature a scale that
it cannot be said to have proved anything save what was already
clear, that is, the general proposition that with a few mechanical
modifications Tanks are perfectly suitable to desert warfare.

The Tanks were, of course, too few to exert any influence upon the
fortunes of war in Palestine, and the two actions in which they fought
amid palms and cactuses and lay up in groves of fig trees, form a
curious, rather than an important, little incident in their history.

The field on which they fought was like the plain of Flanders, one of
those ominous lands which seem predestined for ever to witness the
strife of men.

  [52]“The land from the Wadi el Arish--the ancient ‘River of
  Egypt’--to the Philistian plain had for twenty-six hundred years
  been a cockpit of war. Sometimes a conqueror from the north like
  Nebuchadnezzar, Napoleon and Mehemet Ali, or from the south like
  Ali Bey, met the enemy in Egypt or Syria, but more often the
  decisive fight was fought in the gates. Ascalon, Gaza, Rafa, El
  Arish, are all names famous in history. Up and down the strip of
  seaward levels marched the great armies of Egypt and Assyria, while
  the Jews looked fearfully on from their barren hills.... In this
  gate of ancient feuds it had now fallen to Turkey’s lot to speak
  with her enemy.”

In December 1916 a little company of 22 officers and 226 other ranks,
under Major Nutt, embarked with their eight Tanks at Devonport and
Avonmouth and landed in Egypt in January.

The first business was to show the Staffs of the various fighting
units, with whom they were to co-operate, exactly what Tanks could and
could not do.

Demonstrations were therefore given among the sand dunes near Kilban, a
village which lies between Port Said and El Kantara on the Suez Canal.

One day in February--the exact date seems uncertain[53]--the detachment
received orders to entrain immediately for the fighting zone, and
within three hours of receiving the message, the whole little force
with its Tanks and accessories was travelling towards the forward area.
A delay occurred half-way, at El Arish, which had only recently been
captured, but next morning the Tank Train arrived at its destination,
Khan Yunus, an old Crusaders’ stronghold, surrounded by fig groves and
lying inland about fifteen miles south-west of Gaza.

Here the detachment remained for about ten days.

During these ten days the First Battle of Gaza had come to an end.

Gaza had not been captured, as, though we had fought in its streets, we
had just not been able to keep up the attack long enough to keep what
we had gained owing to lack of water.

In his despatch, General Murray, the Commander-in-Chief of the Egyptian
Expeditionary Force, characterised it as a most successful operation
which only the waterless nature of the country had prevented from being
“a complete disaster to the enemy.”

We had been obliged to withdraw again to our water supplies, but we
immediately began to prepare a second attack in greater force.

This time great cisterns were set up forward, and filled with
rail-borne water. Three weeks of careful preparation were allowed for
what was to prove one of the most hotly contested actions fought in the
Eastern theatre.

We were to attack a Turkish force of about 30,000 men which lay upon a
front of some sixteen miles, between Gaza on the north and Hereira and
Sheria to the south-east.

Two ridges, Sheikh Abbas and Mansura, run almost at right angles to the
coast and command the town of Gaza from the south, and the capture of
these heights was allotted to the 52nd, 53rd, and 54th Divisions.

On their left flank was the sea, and their right, on the Hereira front,
was protected by the Desert Column, consisting of cavalry units and of
the Imperial Camel Corps which was manned by Australian, New Zealand,
and British personnel.

The eight Tanks were to be widely spaced along the crucial five miles
of attack. The 53rd Division nearest to the sea was to have two Tanks,
which were to be held in reserve until the infantry had taken their
first objective. Next to them the 52nd Division was to have four Tanks,
which were to support the infantry in the attack on the Mansura Ridge.
With the 54th Division, two Tanks were to support the attack on the
Sheikh Abbas Ridge. The battle was to be in two phases; the Turkish
outer defences were to be taken in the first phase, and in the second
his inner ring was to be broken through and Gaza itself taken.

It was a country of sand dunes, deep nullahs, and criss-cross ridges, a
labyrinth admirably adapted to defence and containing endless natural
machine-gun positions. Between Gaza and the sea the enemy had built a
double line of trenches and redoubts[54]“strongly held by infantry and
machine-guns well placed and concealed in impenetrable cactus hedges
built on high mud banks and enclosing orchards and gardens on the
outskirts of the town.”

The Tank Detachment had been able to do little or no reconnaissance;
routes had been arranged to the starting-places, and petrol and
ammunition dumps had been formed in convenient places, but no forward
preparations had been possible.

All eight Tanks reached their assembly places before daybreak on
April 17, and at zero hour, the dawn of what promised to be a day
of scorching heat, the first phase of the attack was successfully
launched.

The advance of the 53rd and 52nd Divisions came as a complete surprise
to the Turks, and the six Tanks did not come into action at all on
the first day, as the enemy fled from his trenches and strongholds in
complete confusion, and the slow Mark I.’s and Mark II.’s had no chance
of getting in at him. The outer defence line had fallen by seven that
morning. The two Tanks, however, on the 54th Division’s front saw a
good deal of fighting. One received a direct hit and was destroyed, but
the other did admirable work in clearing the enemy out of his trenches,
north-west of the Abbas Ridge. The Tank inflicted heavy casualties,
and our infantry had only to come up and occupy the defences which the
Turks had abandoned.

By the evening the three attacking Divisions found themselves in
satisfactory positions on high ground, and proceeded to entrench
themselves and to prepare for the second phase.

On the morning of April 19 we again attacked, this time upon a wider
front, a French man-of-war and two British monitors supporting on the
left, and the Australians on the right. The three original Divisions
were, however, once more to deliver the main blow.

A very stiff programme was outlined for the seven surviving Tanks.

The four with the 52nd in the centre had finally four lines of defence
to attack, and their orders were changed during the night before the
action.

With the 53rd Division two Tanks were to work separately, each having a
succession of objectives, while with the 54th the single Tank had only
one redoubt allotted to it.

This time the Turks were ready for us.

One of the Tanks with the 53rd Division, the “Tiger,” led the infantry
advance on its sector. The enemy was quickly driven from our first
objective, Samson Ridge. The Tank went on to the second objective,
the El Arish redoubt, but the infantry being unable to follow, after
being in action for six hours and having fired 27,000 rounds from its
machine-guns, the Tank withdrew, all its crew being wounded.

On the front of the 52nd Division, our advance was hotly contested.

The Turks had massed hundreds of machine-guns along their entire front,
but on this sector their fire was particularly intense. One tank was
able to do good service at Outpost Hill, which it helped to clear
before receiving a direct hit.

Of the other three Tanks, one fell into a gully, the sides of which
unexpectedly crumbled under its weight; another was put out of action
by a direct hit, while the third eventually rallied.

The objective of the Tank fighting with the 54th Division was a
particularly strong redoubt. The work was held in force, but the
garrison soon surrendered on the advance of the Tank. Our infantry
immediately took over the position, which the Turks forthwith proceeded
to shell.

It was not long before the Tank was hit and one of its tracks broken,
and the Turks, counter-attacking, eventually captured Tank, infantry
and redoubt.

By nightfall our position all along the line was unfavourable. The left
of the 54th Division was more or less in the air. We had, in several
parts of the line, been forced off the lately won main ridges. We had
lost 7000 men, and our troops were worn out by the dust and heat, and
were once more short of water. The battle had to be admitted as a
failure. The Tanks had been too few and of too old a type for the work
they had been given.

Their co-operation was, however, much appreciated, and they were
considered to have given a good deal of protection to the infantry.

It is interesting to note that by the time the battle was over these
antiquated machines are said, on an average, each to have covered forty
miles of country.


_The Third Battle of Gaza_

The Second Battle of Gaza had been so completely unsuccessful that
the troops who had been engaged in it had to be withdrawn from their
advanced positions.

The Tanks were concentrated in a fig grove to the rear. Here, no work
being found for them, they stayed till October, being reinforced by
three Mark IV. machines.

General Allenby had now succeeded to the command, and there was to be
another attack upon Gaza, for the town and its defences effectually
barred our further advance along the coast or towards Jerusalem.

We were this time to operate upon a still wider front. The usual shock
troops, the same three Divisions and their eight Tanks, were to attack
nearest the coast.

Next to them, a mixed force of French, Italian and West Indian troops
were to make feint raids near Outpost Hill.

Opposite Gaza itself several cavalry Divisions, mounted and dismounted,
were to attack, and from Hereira to Beersheba a synchronised assault
was to be made by the Australians. The position was, in fact, to be
turned by an extensive flanking movement.

On October 23, 1917, the Tanks moved up to a new station on the beach.

From here, on horseback and by boat, the new area was thoroughly
reconnoitred. This was the special country of cactus hedge and strong
mud bank, and in it had been dug a veritable labyrinth of trenches. It
had been a country of small fig groves and of little irrigated gardens,
and its close boundaries afforded unending cover to the enemy. However,
it was divided into Tank sectors, and by dint of patient toil, the
Tank Commanders at last formed a more or less coherent picture of the
intricacies. Tank Officers and N.C.O.’s were attached to each Brigade
with which they were to work, for ten days before the battle.

Most of the Tanks were detailed to bring up R.E. stores, such as wire,
pickets, shovels and sandbags for their infantry. These things they
were to carry on their roofs.

The first phase of the attack, timed in consideration of a full moon
for an hour before midnight, was to be independent of Tanks, and was
to consist of an infantry attack protected by a creeping barrage.
While this attack was going on, six of the Tanks were to move to their
starting-points, in order to be ready to advance at 3 a.m. Two Tanks
were held in reserve. It will be observed that the plans, preparations
and liaison were in general much more complete than for the Second
Battle of Gaza, but unfortunately one mistake of that battle was
repeated.

The six first-line Tanks were given among them no less than twenty-nine
objectives to attack.

At eleven o’clock on the night of November 1–2, the first phase of the
battle began.

The 156th Infantry Brigade attacked Umbrella Hill, the first
objective. The Turks were taken completely by surprise, there was
little resistance, and even their artillery seemed too startled to fire.

Unfortunately, however, the smoke of the battle and a dense haze made
so thick an atmosphere that not a ray of the expected moonlight reached
the combatants, and the infantry had to fight and the Tanks to manage
their approach march in profound darkness.

Also, when the enemy’s artillery at last woke up, it was to open a
heavy fire on our back areas, where the second wave was gathering. All
the Tanks, however, came safely through and were at their stations half
an hour before the second zero at 3 a.m.

The Turkish resistance had by now stiffened, and when the Tanks and
the fresh infantry advanced behind a heavy barrage it was to meet with
dogged opposition.

The two Tanks detailed to the El Arish redoubt were, after a stiff
fight, successful in driving the enemy out of the enclosed stronghold,
and were making their way through the maze of trenches, cactus hedges
and gardens beyond, when one received a direct hit and the other got
ditched in the darkness. Both crews at once joined the infantry.
Slowly, scrambling up the mud banks, often fighting hand to hand in the
darkness, we advanced. The Turks were fighting stubbornly, but inch by
inch we pushed them back. The remaining Tanks lumbered slowly on.

At last all along the coast all the objectives were taken. No. 6 Tank
captured Sea Post, and, followed by the infantry, moved along the
enemy’s trenches, crushing down the wire as far as Beach Post. It
successively attacked three other strong points and deposited its R.E.
stores at the appointed place. It was again moving forward to attack
a certain isolated Turkish trench when one track broke, so ending a
brilliant innings. The crew went on, but the Tank had to be temporarily
abandoned.

The two reserve Tanks both caught fire through the empty sandbags with
which their roofs were loaded being set ablaze by the heat of their
exhaust pipes.

The coastal attack had done its work, and the Turks’ hold upon Gaza had
been loosened.

The other attackers, the troops who had advanced from Beersheba, broke
through the enemy’s resistance completely, and drove them back for nine
miles on an eight-mile front.

The battle was decisive, and after about three days’ fighting our
troops at last entered Gaza. Our persistency in attack was well
rewarded. The _Spectator_, commenting on the battle, said, “Samson took
away the gates of Gaza, but General Allenby has secured the gates of
Palestine.”

On the whole the Tanks had been a success.

All machines except one reached their first objectives; four reached
their second, third, and fourth, and one Tank reached its fifth.

All five damaged machines were afterwards salved.

This was the last Tank action fought with the Army of Palestine, for,
for some reason or other, the repaired and renovated Tanks were never
used again.

Later, however, during the Turkish retreat, we had great trouble in
rounding up the tattered and wandering Turkish rearguard.

We felt the need of some sort of sheep-dog, so a mission was sent to
France to ask for a number of Whippet Tanks.

By an ironical chance, this mission reached Tank Headquarters in France
on March 21, the very day the German offensive was launched. It need
not be added that no Whippets were sent.

There seemed no work left for the heavies, and the Tank Detachment,
therefore, handed over their machines to the Ordnance Department at
Alexandria, and returned to England.




CHAPTER XIII

SUSPENSE--THE “SAVAGE RABBITS” EPISODE--THE ENEMY’S INTENTIONS


The story of the Tank Corps from the beginning of February to nearly
the end of March 1918 is one of waiting and expectancy, of strategic
moves to unexpected places, of diligent rehearsal for first nights upon
which the curtain never rose, of endless preparations for events which
never happened.

And through all the moves, in all the odd billets, or in the open
fields, when--in hourly expectation of the German attack--Tanks
and their crews lay ready under the hedges, run the Tank Corps’
Pinkerton-like efforts at self-improvement, its determination to finish
its winter training.

From before the middle of January we had been perfectly aware that the
enemy meant to strike and to strike hard. He held a wasting security.
We were waxing and he was waning. He was still our superior, still had
more men available, but by Midsummer he knew that the Allies would
outnumber him.

He had troubles, we knew, at home too, troubles for which the only
salve was victory.

We had besides long known that before the war ended, whenever and
however that end might come, we must expect a last desperate struggle.
It would be the last spring of the wounded beast in which he might
still find our throats, the last staggering blast of the hurricane by
which the ship might still be confounded and overwhelmed.

Every sign spoke of the coming storm, but none told from which quarter
we must expect it. The Germans were concentrating in such a way--at the
base of the great salient formed by their line--that they could plant
their blow wherever it might at the last moment seem good to them.

For better or worse, it was decided that our available forces were to
be impartially distributed all along the line. Not that we had very
much choice, as with our limited resources a concentration at any one
strategic point must imply virtual gaps in our defence elsewhere.

For we had in January taken over an additional forty miles of line, and
the men for whom the High Command in France had so frequently pleaded
had not been sent out to them.

We were in for a lean three months, and to hold the extended line was
as much as we could hope to accomplish.

The British and French Spring Campaign must be a defensive one. There
was no longer a Russian front, and till the Americans were ready--which
could not be till Midsummer at earliest--the Germans would have a
numerical preponderance of nearly a quarter of a million men. Besides
this, their position on interior lines and their superior lateral
railway communications could at any moment give them an overwhelming
local superiority.

However, we had faced worse odds before. We could form a strong line
and cunning schemes of defence against which the enemy would hammer in
vain. Our first defence was a deep forward zone. It consisted first of
an outpost line and second of a “line of resistance.”

The line of resistance was extremely carefully laid out. About every
mile redoubts of special strength were so arranged that on this sector
an attack would be entrapped into our wire and held exposed to a
cross-fire from our machine-guns.

The line was, in fact, to offer “patches” of resistance, and so break
up the ordered advance of the enemy, who was to arrive at the next
line, the “battle zone,” weakened and disorganised.

Here the main fight was to take place, and upon this zone we lavished
all our skill and industry, and, having faith, we prepared no serious
positions in rear of it.

The Tanks were spaced out all along a sixty-mile front.

Near Lens in the 1st Army area was the 1st Tank Brigade.

The 2nd Brigade was in 3rd Army Reserve at Haplincourt, near Bapaume.

The 3rd Brigade--which was in process of being equipped with Whippet
Tanks--was also in 3rd Army Reserve.

The 4th Brigade was attached to the 5th Army and established itself in
camps near Péronne.

The 5th Brigade was in process of forming, and therefore had no
definite task allotted to it, though, as we shall see, the 13th (its
nucleus) Battalion actually saw a considerable amount of fighting.

Each Tank Brigade got out a defence scheme in conjunction with the Army
to which it was attached. As a rule the Tanks--which had been moved up
as secretly as possible--were to lie in ambush till the last moment,
and then, emerging--as General Elles described it--“like Savage Rabbits
from their holes,” were to fall upon the Germans in flank or rear.

His phrase struck the fancy of the Tank Corps, and the whole of this
period is frequently referred to _tout court_ as “Savage Rabbits,”
somewhat to the bewilderment of the uninitiated.


II

Their schemes prepared, their Tanks in position, after an exhaustive
reconnaissance, the Tank Corps waited, a process which all troops find
both tedious and demoralising, unless some really profitable means can
be found of employing their time.

For the Tank Corps the need of the moment was further training. Several
of the Battalions had been dragged untimely from half-finished courses,
several were almost fresh from Wool, and had still most of their
tactical training to do. Everywhere there were units and individuals
who had lost “school attendances” to make up.

The great difficulty was that Battalions and even Companies were so
spread out and scattered that it was almost impossible to collect the
students for instruction.

The regular curriculums were out of the question, so the directors of
Tank training immediately set to work to evolve new courses that would
fit the altered circumstances.

In some ways the Reconnaissance Side fared best.

Their chief instructional material--the actual country to be fought
over--was there for their students to study, and even when the pupils
were so scattered that a sufficient audience could not be collected
for a formal lecture, many ingenious little practical schemes could be
carried out and written work could always be done.

They had a fairly definite standard to aim at. Had the battalions
remained in the training areas, every officer and man would have been
put through a five days’ course in Reconnaissance. Under normal
conditions such courses were arranged more or less as follows:

  _On the first day_, the students heard an introductory lecture,
  practised chalk layering, heard a short discourse on map reading,
  did a practical comparison of map and country upon which they had
  to answer questions.

  _On the second day_, visualising country from a map was taught, and
  practice indoors was gone through with a model. In the afternoon
  panorama sketching was practised, a short lecture heard, some
  visualising was done and the characterisation of landmarks was
  practised, the day being finished up by night guiding.

  _On the third morning_, close observation of a certain sector,
  involving sketches and notes, was undertaken, and visibility
  practices carried out. Later, the students were taken for an
  “observation march,” and having described the features of the
  country they had traversed, they had to write a report upon the new
  sector which they had observed in the morning, and upon this report
  they were later questioned.

  _On the fourth day_, a new sector was visited, upon which they had
  previously made notes from a map. These notes they had to compare
  with reality, and to notice whether their imagination had been
  faulty. A lecture on obstacles commonly found on approach marches
  followed, and one on aerial photographs with practical work. Night
  work followed, with special reference to the study of the stars.

  _On the fifth day_, oblique and other aerial photographs were
  compared with the actual ground, and a lecture was delivered
  summing up the special points of the course.

Sometimes, however, during the “Savage Rabbit” period, lectures were
possible, and for these occasions a rather new type of discourse was
evolved, in which the broader aspects of Reconnaissance and of the
study of country were dealt with.

Local history was recalled:--how men had lived and fought in the
villages and cornfields that lay immediately about them; how that great
abbey church that stood alone was erected by a group of pious merchants
as a thankoffering for their town’s escape from the plague; how to this
little town the Revolution had brought a Committee of Public Safety,
and how it had held its red assize in the coffee-room of the Hôtel de
l’Europe, or how Bonaparte had lain at this or that château on his way
to the Camp at Boulogne.

Or again, the lecture might be more strictly military and concern the
place of Reconnaissance amongst the arts of war, and the action and
reaction of one arm of the Service upon another--the ever-present
trilogy of wire, trench and machine-gun, new theories of artillery
work, the latest fashions in tactics or the effects of the latest
poison-gas.

Then, where some isolated Tank Company or even section lay ready day
and night by its machines and lectures were impossible, an itinerant
instructor would set the exiles little schemes to carry out.

The two following exercises are typical:--

  “Two small parties of officers go at different times to positions
  from which a good view is obtainable. They pick out landmarks,
  etc., and their peculiarities, taking notes or making sketches.
  From these notes or sketches each party writes out three or four
  questions on landmarks, general observation, routes taken, etc.
  On their return the two parties exchange their questions, answers
  are written, and these answers returned to the writers of the
  questioners to correct.

  “Catch questions, such as ‘How many windows had such and such a
  house?’ will, of course, be discountenanced, and only useful tests
  permitted.

  “Exercise II.--The student was asked to sketch the outline of a
  cottage from about 800 yards distant. He then had to consider from
  the position of the house on the map, and the contour lines of the
  ground, what the appearance of that cottage would be likely to be
  from a different point of view. Of this hypothetical elevation he
  had then to make an outline sketch, and finally to walk over the
  ground and compare his imaginings with actuality.”

Practices for approach marches were also given by means of an exercise
on tape laying and the taking of compass bearings.


III

And still the Germans stayed their hands, and still we waited and
speculated upon what the coming campaign might hold for us. For the
Tank Corps it seemed certainly to portend a new form of warfare--the
Tank duel.

All sorts of things were rumoured concerning the German preparations,
and the sheets of the Tank Corps Intelligence Summary for late February
are full of little items of information of a perfectly new kind.

Tanks of some sort were certainly being made at Krupp’s.

Prisoners had been caught who described them as larger and heavier than
the British machines. We had reason to believe that men were being
withdrawn from certain other units to form Tank crews.

Then, in the next day’s Summary, it would be reported that airmen had
found out that in certain Regimental, Brigade, and Divisional training
schemes which were being carried out by the enemy, horses and wagons
were being used, representing Tanks. Combined infantry and Tank attacks
of all sorts appeared to be being rehearsed. Again, some recently
captured prisoners said that a few derelict Tanks, which the Germans
had taken at Cambrai, were being put into order, they seemed to think,
as training rather than as fighting machines.

It is to be imagined that the notion of the new warfare, of meeting
their kind in combat for the first time, was exceedingly interesting to
all ranks of the Tank Corps; and there was not a single hut in a single
camp where wonderful new ideas for tactics and manœuvres wherewith to
annihilate the new enemy, were not really elaborated.

We did not know that the bitterness and anxiety of a long retreat
lay before us; a retreat whose gall and wormwood were to enter into
our very souls, and of whose confused events it is even now almost
impossible to write either with accuracy or impartiality.




CHAPTER XIV

THE MARCH RETREAT

    “A mile around the city,
      The throng stopped up the ways;
    A fearful sight it was to see
      Through two long nights and days.

    “For aged folks on crutches,
      And women great with child,
    And mothers sobbing over babes
      That clung to them and smiled,
    And sick men borne in litters
      High on the necks of slaves,
    And troops of sun-burned husbandmen
      With reaping-hooks and staves.

    “And droves of mules and asses
      Laden with skins of wine,
    And endless flocks of goats and sheep,
      And endless herds of kine,
    And endless trains of waggons
      That creaked beneath the weight
    Of corn-sacks and of household goods,
      Choked every roaring gate.

    “Now, from the rock Tarpeian,
      Could the wan burghers spy
    The line of blazing villages
      Red in the midnight sky.
    The Fathers of the City,
      They sat all night and day,
    For every hour some horseman came
      With tidings of dismay.”

                                        LORD MACAULAY.


I

About March 14 the 3rd and 5th Armies were warned by their aerial
reconnaissance that a new and ominous concentration was taking place
behind the enemy’s lines.

These two Armies, to which the 2nd, 3rd, and 4th Tank Brigades were,
it will be remembered, attached, held the line which lay between
Bullecourt to the north and St. Quentin to the south.

Behind them lay the old Somme battlefields, and about them was a dry,
rather bare, downland country with few woods and divided up by broad
valleys that ran east and west across it. It was a part of the line
upon which we had long considered the blow might probably fall.

The 3rd and 5th Armies, now on the alert, immediately set about raiding
the enemy and, having captured the desired prisoners and examined them,
were consistently told the same story.

Thursday, March 21, was to be the day of attack.

The weather, which had been clear and bright for a week or two, broke
on Tuesday, the 19th, and all day it rained heavily. On the night of
the 20th a thick mist came up and lay densely over the downs. Such
weather conditions only made an attack the more certain, and all along
the line Tanks were moved forward into their allotted positions.

At two o’clock in the morning of the 21st the British line was warned
to expect an attack. The forward zone was already fully manned, but at
4.30 an order was sent out to man the battle zone. Nor was the order
premature. The mist still lay heavily over the lines, and under its
cover the Germans had secretly pushed up their troops until all along
the front between Bullecourt and La Fère, they had massed thirty-seven
divisions on a line little more than a mile from our outposts.

The drama was about to begin. At a quarter to five every German battery
from the Marne to Dunkirk opened fire. Such a bombardment had never
been known before, and it reached its zenith on the fronts of the 3rd
and 5th Armies.

Torrents of gas shells and high explosives were poured out upon our
forward and battle lines, upon our Headquarters, upon our artillery
positions, and upon all our lines of communication.

The batteries of the 3rd and 5th Armies replied as best they could,
but owing to the mist our artillery observers were helpless. It was
impossible to see fifty yards ahead, and the German fire seemed to
crash upon us out of some alien planet.

By 8 or 9 o’clock the first parties of Germans had begun to advance, to
cut our wire here and there along the front of attack, and to filter
unobtrusively through our outpost line.

We began to perceive that the enemy was behaving in a most
unaccountable way. Even by 10 o’clock--as far as we could learn in
the confusion--he seemed in some places to have made no attempt at
an infantry attack at all. In others compact but apparently isolated
little parties of Guards or Cockchafers, or men from some other picked
regiment, had pushed right through our forward zone and were away
beyond the places where the cross-fire from our machine-guns was to
have checked them, before the men in the redoubts, half-blind amid the
clouds of gas, had realised that any Germans had crossed No Man’s Land.
Again and again the garrisons were overwhelmed from the rear before
they could send back any warning to the men behind in the battle zone.
When they did endeavour to signal, the S.O.S. would be blanketed in the
mist.

Only too often the first news of the attack to reach our batteries was
the appearance of German infantry on their flank and rear.

There would be nothing left but to mow down the enemy at point-blank
range, till finally the gun crews were overwhelmed by the in-flooding
tide.

As at Ypres, we had begun amazedly to feel that we were up against
a type of tactics against which we had never fought before. Our
conjecture was perfectly right. It was a system of surprise, and of the
theory of _Sturmtruppen_ carried to its extreme conclusion. Mr. Buchan
has likened the new method to the advance of a hand whose finger-tips
are shod with steel pushing its way into a soft substance.

In practice the assault was conducted as follows: The infantry attack
was preceded by a short but extremely intense bombardment in which a
large proportion of gas was used.

This was followed by the advance at irregular intervals of clusters
of highly trained assault troops, carrying light trench mortars or
machine-guns (each cluster really constituting a kind of human Tank.
It was well, indeed, for us that they were no more than mere flesh
and blood, and neither armoured nor engined.) These clusters, which
were closely followed and supported by the field batteries, made gaps
through which the line troops poured, guided by an elaborate system of
flares and rockets.

Each section of the defence might thus find itself caught between the
“fingers”--outflanked and encircled.

Each body of the advancing enemy was under the command of a specially
trained officer, whose leadership generally proved a model of skill and
initiative; each detachment was instructed to push on as far as its
strength allowed, and every man carried iron rations for several days.

When a regiment had advanced as far as it was able, another took its
place, the waves of the advance thus leapfrogging over each other in an
endless chain.

The dangers of such tactics are obvious, but on March 21 the system was
portentously successful.


II

As in all disasters, events seemed to move with a terrible rapidity.

A moment before the motor accident you are a free man; a moment after
and you are involved in an endless line of consequences which have
sprung up while you could hold your breath, and amid whose mushroom
growth you may wander for the rest of your life.

Five hours after the opening of the German cannonade the world seemed
to have changed for the two armies which had stood in the path of the
hurricane.

In the course of the next fourteen days the Germans were to sweep
forward for forty miles, and their advance was even then to be checked,
not by the British Army, but by the gradual attenuation of their supply
system.

The whole fourteen days of the retreat were completely confused. Units
were inextricably mixed, and communications were impossible.

Some sort of immediate action was always having to be taken by
junior Commanders on information which they justly believed to be
untrustworthy. There were often more Germans to the flank of any given
body than to its front. When we try to form any general conception
of the events of this period, we seem to see the actors moving in a
kind of mist from which they emerge for a moment, perform some action
which may or may not appear relevant, and then disappear again into
the confusion, leaving us to guess at the meaning of the play. As far
as the events of such a time can be chronicled, we propose for this
fortnight to follow separately the doings of the three Tank Battalions
chiefly involved, and to make no effort to present a coherent picture
of this return to the reign “of Chaos and old Night.”

The 4th and 5th Battalions (4th Brigade) lay near Cartigny (south of
Péronne).

On the morning of the 21st the two Battalions of Tanks were moved up
into the line, two Tanks of the 4th Battalion counter-attacking at
Peizière and clearing a railway cutting of the enemy.

On the 22nd all the Tanks were ordered into action. The infantry were
retreating, and their chief duty was to gain time and to cover that
retreat.

Twelve Tanks of the 5th Battalion attacked the enemy at Hervilly
Wood, and several from the 4th Battalion near Epehy. Both detachments
suffered rather severely.

At this point the two Battalions seem to have more or less parted
company.

Seventeen Tanks belonging to the 5th Battalion rallied at Cartigny that
night, and next day (the 23rd) were ordered to retire over the Somme.

The only available crossing place was the bridge at Brie, a few miles
to the south.

They set off immediately, but the enemy advance was too rapid for them.
They were unable to cross the bridge, and, lest they should fall into
the hands of the enemy, all the machines were destroyed by their crews.

The story of one of these Tanks is told in the 5th Battalion History:

  “Second Lieutenant T. E. Van Zeller’s Tank was covering the
  withdrawal of the infantry across the Somme, moving from Cartigny
  to Brie on the east side of the river. He inflicted severe
  casualties on the enemy, and was under heavy and continuous
  shell-fire. On arriving at Brie late in the afternoon of the 23rd,
  he found that the bridge was about to be blown up, and that his
  Tank could not cross. He accordingly destroyed his Tank, and then
  directed his crew in assisting to carry wounded across the bridge.
  Finding two men seriously wounded who had been left behind, he
  decided, with three of his crew, to make an effort to rescue them
  at the last moment.

  “When half-way across, the bridge was blown up in front and behind
  them. Second Lieutenant Van Zeller, however, succeeded in getting
  the whole party across the débris under heavy shell-fire, and
  finally brought them back behind our lines on the west side of the
  river.

  “For this he was awarded the M.C., and the three members of his
  crew who assisted in the last plucky effort were each awarded the
  Military Medal.”

There were other places where the now “dismounted” Tank crews could
cross the river.

But they had no means of transport, and were, therefore, obliged to
burn or otherwise destroy most of their stores and kit.

Indeed, as a rule, the Lewis guns from the Tanks were their only
salvage.

One Staff Sergeant, however, hid away or buried a number of his tools,
and six months later, when the British advance swept back again, they
were recovered.

By March 24 the Battalion had lost all its Tanks. But in almost every
case the Lewis guns had been salved.

As the crews fell back they were immediately organised as Lewis gun
detachments, and distributed along the line wherever their help was
most needed.

Colonel O’Kelly, Commanding the 5th Tank Battalion, had to use his
own initiative in the matter, as communications were by this time
hopelessly disorganised and the need was instant.

Once, too, a detachment had been sent off, as it were disappeared, and
each party had to rely upon its individual Commander.

Tank crews had had no training in this kind of warfare, but the strange
dilemmas in which a Tank frequently finds itself had accustomed them to
the unexpected, and thus left alone they displayed plenty of initiative.

The chief work which fell to them was that of forming rearguards and of
protecting the retreat of the infantry.

Food and ammunition were both short, and they, like the other troops,
suffered many hardships.

Each of these Lewis gun detachments was made up of about four officers
and forty men, and they ordinarily had twelve Lewis guns with them.

Three such detachments fought near Masvillers and Merlaincourt, others
near Villers Bretonneux, Caix, Harbonnières and Marcourt, the general
retreat carrying them back almost to Amiens.

Again and again small parties failed to get the orders to retire in
time, and had to fight their way back after being surrounded and cut
off by the enemy.

Sometimes they fought with French infantry, but chiefly with the
Sherwoods, Queen’s and Royal Fusiliers of the 19th Corps.

Extraordinarily good individual work was done, as the list of honours
shows. The story of a 5th Battalion detachment gives a typical picture:

  [55]“The 5th detachment under the command of Lieutenant Pitt,
  consisted of Second Lieutenants Whyte and Storm, forty-one men and
  seven guns. On March 28 this detachment was attached to ‘Carey’s
  Force’ and ordered to hold the line on each side of the Villers
  Bretonneux--Warfusée--Abancourt Road, a position which was to be
  held for two days at all costs.

  “While placing his guns, Lieutenant Pitt was wounded and Second
  Lieutenant Whyte took over the command.

  “A Vickers gun section was in position north of the road, so Second
  Lieutenant Whyte posted his guns on the south side. The infantry
  holding the line at this point were all low category men and
  convalescents, and not more than twenty men had any experience of
  holding a rifle.

  “At 6 p.m. on the 28th, word was received that the enemy were about
  to attack and, at close range, machine-gun fire was opened on them.

  “The infantry began to fall back, but were rallied by Second
  Lieutenant Whyte and Captain Bingham, M.C., and taken back to their
  former position.

  “Second Lieutenant Whyte then assumed command of this section. At
  10 p.m. the enemy again attacked, but were again driven back by the
  Lewis gun fire.

  “On the following day (29th) the enemy launched an attack on the
  right, but it was completely broken up by enfilade fire from Second
  Lieutenant Whyte’s guns, the enemy suffering extremely heavy
  casualties. Some relief was afforded on the night of 29th-30th by
  cavalry, who came up on the right of this sector.

  “Enemy machine-guns and snipers were very active, but two of the
  former and three snipers were accounted for by Lewis gun fire.
  Second Lieutenant Whyte held the line until 10.30 p.m. on the 31st,
  when he was relieved by Australian troops.

  “For his gallant defence of this position Second Lieutenant Whyte
  was awarded the M.C.

  “Corporal S. Archbold working under Second Lieutenant Whyte showed
  conspicuous gallantry throughout these trying days. Single-handed
  he worked his Lewis gun, carrying it and its ammunition to a new
  position, firing it and loading his magazines without assistance
  for twenty-four hours. During this period he helped in breaking two
  enemy attacks.

  “On the 30th he was wounded in the head by a sniper, but continued
  to work his gun all day until he was ordered by his officer to the
  dressing-station. This devotion to duty gained for him the D.C.M.
  Another member of this party, Pte. W. Lyon, was awarded the M.M.
  for carrying important messages in broad daylight across the open
  under heavy machine-gun and rifle fire at 200 yards range.”

Between March 24 and April 2 the 5th Battalion had sent a total of
eighty-four Lewis guns and crews into the line.

Every available man had gone, cooks, officers’ servants, clerks and
orderlies. They had suffered heavy casualties, and on April 4 the
Battalion, or what was left of it, was taken to Auchy by lorry.

Here they drew Hotchkiss guns, and began to train again. But they were
not to be left long in peace.

On April 12 they had orders to form again as a Lewis gun Battalion,
and next day found them once more in the forward area, this time at
Meteren, not far from Hazebrouck, where they relieved an infantry
Battalion which had held a switch line through the village and an
isolated point near Meteren Church. On April 15 they got news that the
enemy had captured high ground between Neuve Eglise and Bailleul, and
on the 16th the enemy advanced on Meteren.

  “Breaking through a section of trench which had been left unmanned,
  they forced back the infantry on the right and also ‘B’ Company,
  and got behind the latter. No. 8 section was entirely cut off and
  lost.

  “Second Lieutenant Carter showed great presence of mind at this
  juncture. He was Reconnaissance Officer of his Company. On seeing
  the position caused by the enemy break-through, he immediately
  rallied and reorganised the various parties as they fell back and
  took up a line in rear. He was all the time under heavy shell-fire.

  “The position of ‘C’ Company had then become precarious.

  “Second Lieutenant Dawson, assisted by Second Lieutenant Bayliss,
  immediately placed four of his guns in the open, covered the now
  exposed flank and held up the attack. During the night of the
  27th-28th he dug a trench, connecting these isolated posts with our
  original line, and posted his guns in this new trench. The enemy
  mounted two guns behind a hedge about 200 yards in front of the
  position. These two guns, however, were knocked out before firing a
  shot. The Germans also tried to assemble behind this same hedge for
  an attack; but they were driven back with heavy casualties. This
  well-thought-out defence performed throughout under frontal and
  enfiladed fire, saved the company from an attack which would have
  endangered the entire position.”

On April 17 the Battalion, except for twenty guns, was relieved by the
Argyll and Sutherland Highlanders. After helping to hold back one more
serious attack, the remaining gun crews were finally withdrawn and
joined the rest of the Battalion at the Mont des Cats.

On April 24 detachments of the 5th Battalion, which were helping to man
the line before Kemmel, were heavily in action.

The enemy attacked after a fierce bombardment, and Kemmel Hill was
taken.

On the 29th the enemy opened a heavy gas and H.E. barrage and attacked
Mont Rouge in force. They were driven away, but returned again and
again, always being beaten off.

At last in the first days of May the Battalion was relieved, and was
sent back to the training and rest area at Blangy, the Divisional
General having complimented the gun crews upon their conduct in the
field.

The story of the 4th Battalion is very like that of the 5th. All
through the last days of March there was the same heartbreaking
destruction of machines that had run out of petrol or grease, or were
suffering from some slight defect which there was no time to rectify.
Again kits and orderly-room material had to be burnt, and again the
Lewis guns were salved. The usual Lewis gun detachments were formed,
but this time did not have quite so much fighting, their chief battle
being on March 26, on the Bray-Albert road, where they did exceedingly
well.

The 2nd Battalion was near Maricourt when the crash came, and
twenty-five of their Tanks went into action on the afternoon of March
22.

  [56]“The Tanks had to come into view when they crossed the
  Bapaume-Cambrai road, and as soon as the enemy spotted them coming
  into action, very heavy machine-gun fire was brought to bear upon
  them, to be followed in a few minutes by heavy direct artillery
  fire. Several Tanks were knocked out by shells almost as soon as
  they arrived amongst the enemy infantry, who were found to be very
  numerous, as if massing for a further advance.

  “The appearance of the Tanks seems to have been a complete surprise
  to the enemy infantry, who became disorganised and retired some
  distance in confusion.

  “The Tanks carried out the attack without any infantry, and
  practically no artillery, co-operation.

  “The casualties both in Tanks and personnel were heavy, but the
  attack achieved its object, in that it upset the plans of the enemy
  and delayed any further attack on their part for nearly twenty-four
  hours. It was known at the time by the Staff that the enemy was
  massing for an attack at once, and the appearance of the Tanks
  rendered this impossible.

  “The first Tanks came out of action about 7.30 p.m.”

Of the twenty-five Tanks which went into action only six came out
undamaged, and the Battalion was not really in a fit state to fight
again without reorganisation.

But the enemy were still advancing, and the Albert-Bapaume road had to
be defended at all costs.

So on the 24th the surviving Tanks were manned and sent forward again,
and the Tankless crews were formed into Lewis gun detachments.

They waited all through the night of the 24th expecting to be sent
forward.

No orders came till midday on March 25, when they were sent to the 3rd
Tank Brigade Camp near Bray, which they later in the day were ordered
to burn to prevent it from falling into the hands of the enemy.

All next day the infantry fell back, and with them the Lewis gun teams.

Some idea of the confusion may be gathered from the fact that at this
moment the 2nd Battalion was separated into no less than eight parts,
none of which could communicate quickly enough with its fellows to make
any combined action possible.

The 8th and 10th Battalions still had some Tanks in going order,
and, on the day when the 3rd Army was forced across the old Somme
battlefield, they fought an exceedingly good rearguard action on either
side of the Albert-Bapaume road. The Tanks received a special message
of commendation from the General Commanding the 3rd Army.

Another incident--of which the authors have not been able to obtain
many particulars--was the action fought by a scratch Tank force formed
out of all the fighting Tanks from the driving school, Aveluy.

The 7th Battalion was one of several which were not in the path of the
hurricane, and consequently lost no Tanks.

A certain number of its men were, however, organised as Lewis gun
detachments, and by mid-April saw a considerable amount of fighting.

One such detachment was attached to the 61st Division near Nieppe
Forest, and with them manned a line of fortified shell-holes.

There were no trenches and the country was absolutely flat. The
whereabouts of the enemy was extremely uncertain. The Tank Lewis
gunners held about a mile and a half of improvised line, their
headquarters being a little farmhouse not far from Merville. Hardly
had the detachment taken over than the enemy put down a hot barrage.
A Reconnaissance Officer who was present described the events that
followed in a letter home:

  “I went out of the northern door of the farm. A beastly sniper’s
  bullet whizzed past my head, and then another and another. The
  bullets were all coming from the north, and it seemed as though
  Fritz had made his way through the town and would get us from the
  rear. This is what he did do. A sergeant was killed next to me,
  and Norton[57] told me to go back to Divisional Headquarters and
  report the situation. After I had been there about an hour, a
  runner came back to say Norton had been wounded, and soon after
  we heard that the enemy had broken through to the north of the
  Canal. Just at that moment General Elles came up and asked what
  the situation was, and having heard that there were some Tanks and
  men of another Battalion on the northern side of the Canal, said
  he would go up and see for himself. He had his A.D.C. with him,
  and took me along as well. We motored right up to where we came in
  touch with our men, who were being pushed back on the north of the
  Canal. We then got out of the car and went forward on foot. The
  General had not even his tin hat on, but his red and gold. He went
  out beyond the withdrawing infantry and taking out his map, held a
  council of war, a council not uninterrupted by machine-gun bullets.

  “He then sent me back a couple of hundred yards and told me to stop
  every man on a certain cross-road, reorganise them and make them
  take up fresh positions. This I did, and we thus re-established
  a line. The General took command and made his Headquarters in a
  small house until shelled out of it and into a neighbouring ditch.
  I was sent back to Divisional Headquarters to report and get some
  more ammunition. When I returned the situation was pretty well the
  same, and we were holding on all right. The General then suggested
  that we might see in which houses the enemy really were. During
  these investigations Ian Stewart went forward by himself on our
  flank, and had a private battle with a company of Germans, killing,
  amongst others, one who was on a bicycle, and himself returning on
  the captured machine, the original rider’s papers in his pocket.

  “We were relieved about 7 p.m. by a new Division, and I got back to
  Divisional Headquarters about 9. The next morning the C.O. turned
  up with the rest of the Battalion.”

The 3rd Tank Battalion, whose camp at Bray had been destroyed, were now
a fully fledged Whippet unit.

During the first few days the Whippets saw no actual fighting but were
subject to plenty of alarms, and made a great number of fruitless
excursions from place to place.

At the Bray Camp there had been, unfortunately, a certain number of
Whippet machines which were temporarily laid up with engine trouble.

But there were no spare parts and no time for repairs, and a good many
machines had to be blown up “unblooded.”

On March 26 two Companies of the 3rd Battalion were moved to
Mailly-Maillet Wood.

As soon as the machines had arrived the Company Commanders went out to
reconnoitre the position near the village (Mailly-Maillet).

The result of their investigations is typical of the whole retreat:

  [58]“The position on the front between Beaumont-Hamel and Hébuterne
  proved to be very obscure, a gap in our line appearing to exist
  between these two places. The only troops of ours to be found
  consisted of two small posts of about one platoon each on the
  outskirts of Colincamps, the ground to the front and between them
  being occupied by enemy patrols and machine-gunners.”

About noon the Whippets arrived at the village. The situation was
explained to the Section Commanders, and half the Tanks proceeded down
the main street while the rest guarded the two flanks.

A small body of our infantry which was holding the village had been on
the point of falling back before the rapidly advancing enemy when the
Tanks arrived.

The Tanks had gone forward almost beyond the village, when suddenly,
round the edge of the wood, they met 300 of the enemy advancing in
close formation.

The Germans were too much surprised to attempt to resist, and fled in
disorder.

A number of them were shot down by the Whippet’s machine-guns, and many
surrendered to the infantry who had by now arrived.

The remnant scattered, and were pursued by the Tanks right on to the
outskirts of Auchonvillers.

The two Whippets remained out on patrol for about an hour, but no
further attack was attempted, and they returned to the village about
3 p.m. Later in the afternoon the gap in our lines was filled by the
arrival of a New Zealand Division. This successful little action is
interesting as the first ever fought by the Whippets.

There were several other sections of Whippets and heavy Tanks out on
patrol on this and the following days.

Several Tanks of the 10th Battalion fought in Rossignol Wood on two
occasions, and Whippets of the 2nd Battalion were in action near
Bouzencourt in a blinding rainstorm.

Everywhere it was the same story of villages the question of whose
ownership was “obscure” of gaps in the line which the Tanks had to
bridge for a critical hour or two, often firing their machine-guns into
the advancing waves of the enemy until the guns grew hot and jammed and
the Tanks had to retreat. Often they would go back till their petrol
gave out, and the crews had to blow up their machines.

The new Medium A machines (the Whippets) acquitted themselves
extremely well, and there were astonishingly few cases of mechanical
trouble.

The Battalion histories describe many pitiful scenes which took
place during the retreat, the fate of the inhabitants, for whom our
withdrawal meant complete ruin, striking the eye-witnesses as the most
distressing feature of the whole business.

  [59]“During the withdrawal the condition of the villagers was
  pitiful. Women and children and old men crazed with fright with
  liveliest memories of the conduct of the Germans in the area
  occupied by them, were to be seen streaming westwards from their
  homes, pushing their meagre possessions before them in hand-carts
  and alternately invoking the aid of their Saints and calling down
  their wrath upon the hated Boche.”

Nor was the retreat only tragic to those of the Tank Corps who had to
witness the supreme misery of these processions of the Cross. There
was a lesser unhappiness for the tacticians of the Tank Corps in the
contemplation of the appalling waste of Tank machines and men.

The Tanks had been far too scattered ever to pull their weight.

  [60]“To hit with them as they were distributed on March 21 was like
  hitting out with an open hand instead of with a clenched fist.

  “When the German blow fell there was no time to hit and
  simultaneously to close the fingers.”

Out of 370 Tanks which were fit to fight, only 180 saw any action, a
great many machines running out of supplies or being incapacitated by
some temporary mechanical trouble, and so lost without having fired a
shot.

The fault lay in the fact that the infantry Commanders under whom they
were acting did not fully understand the functions and limitations of
the Tank, or realise that as the final loss of a good many Mark IV.
machines in such a retreat was inevitable, it would have been much
better to give the Tanks a run for their money.


III

_Villers Bretonneux_

It was not till the German offensive had lasted for more than a month
that opposing Tanks at last met in battle.

The enemy had pushed us back to within six or seven miles of Amiens,
and he now planned a more or less full-dress attack upon positions on
high ground, which were, in fact, the outer defences not only of the
town, but of the vital Amiens-Paris railway. A break through on this
sector would be a serious disaster, and the situation was an anxious
one. The weather was unsettled, and the mornings often still misty in
the Somme country.

At 6.30 on April 23 the river fog lay thick, and under cover of this
mist the Germans attacked the whole of the line south of the Somme
after a short and particularly intense bombardment.

A company of heavy Tanks of the 1st and seven Whippets of the 3rd
Battalion had been hastily moved up into the domain of the 3rd Corps,
north and south of Villers Bretonneux, where it was rumoured that the
Germans were going to use Tanks, and, in fact, when at last the first
little knots of German infantry appeared through the fog, three huge
forms accompanied them.

It was over Tanks of this type, the “Schultz” and the “Hagan,” that
the little boys of London scrambled so delightedly on the Horse Guards
Parade in the spring of 1919. Now all we could see of them, as they
lumbered slowly through the fog, was that they were a good deal larger
and heavier than the heavy British Tanks, and that they were rather
tortoise shaped, the armoured “shell” everywhere coming down over the
tracks like a sort of crinoline.

They broke right through our line, opening a way for the infantry which
was following them. But three of our Tanks, under Captain F. C. Brown,
M.C., happened to be on their way to the very spot (Cachy) where the
German Tanks had attacked. Unfortunately two of the three were females,
whose machine-guns were not of much use against the new thick-skinned
enemy.

However, they went on, hoping for chinks in their opponents’ armour,
but in spite of their superior power of manœuvre both the females were
soon knocked out by shells from the German Tanks.

The one male Tank, under Lieutenant Mitchell, was now opposed to three
undamaged enemy machines, each more heavily armoured than the British
Tank. Lieutenant Mitchell, however, immediately engaged them and,
after some dodging of the salvos of his three antagonists, who seemed
to be trying to close upon him, he managed to obtain a direct hit
with one of his six-pounders upon the leading German. Twice again he
fired, each time hitting the same machine. The third shot completed its
discomfiture; in its efforts to get away it fell into a sandpit, where
it lay on its side, its tracks still rattling round ineffectively.

With its first enemy definitely out of action, the British Tank turned
upon the other two.

But they had not waited, and had already discreetly turned tail,
leaving Lieutenant Mitchell master of the situation.

Such was the rather inglorious end of the Germans’ first endeavour to
meet the British Tank Corps with its own weapons.

It was not far from the scene of this strange encounter that about half
an hour later seven Whippets came into action, debouching from north
of Cachy, attacking the enemy on the ridge between Villers Bretonneux
and Hangard Wood. The ridge was held by machine-gun groups concealed
in shell-holes, while on the eastern slopes two German Battalions
were forming up in the open ready to attack. The Whippets moved from
shell-hole to shell-hole, destroying the machine-gun groups, and then
proceeded to deal with the infantry. Their success was terrible. They
got right in among the enemy, who had absolutely no cover, and mowed
the unhappy Germans down in ranks as they stood. At least 400 of the
enemy are estimated to have been killed, and the rest at last fled in
confusion, the threatened attack being completely broken up.

Not only were these two Battalions disposed of, but by nightfall it was
clear that for the time being at least some circumstance had definitely
held up the German advance. We did not know it, but our defences had
withstood and survived the last hungry lickings of the great spring
tide.

Its impulse was too far spent to overflow the frail dam of our Villers
Bretonneux positions. The German advance had reached slack water.

There had been one incident which had genuinely cheered the hard
pressed men of the Tank Corps. At the very blackest moment of the
retreat, when machines were being sacrificed by the dozen, and when
the grey waves of the German infantry seemed to pursue our weary men
with endless, tireless iteration, General Elles received a telegram
from Mr. Docker, the chairman of the Metropolitan Carriage Company of
Birmingham:--

  “A resolution has been passed unanimously by the Works people of
  the Metropolitan Carriage Company to forgo any holidays, and to do
  their utmost to expedite delivery of Tanks to assist their comrades
  in the Field.”




CHAPTER XV

THE EQUILIBRIUM--MINOR ACTIONS--HAMEL--THE BALLON D’ESSAI


It is not perhaps too fanciful to envisage the battles of April 24,
25 and 26, though they were by no means uniformly satisfactory little
actions, as belonging to a different and a happier era than the action
of Villers Bretonneux itself. On the 23rd we had been fighting for our
lives. Through the three subsequent days’ fighting, it began to be
more and more obvious that a change had taken place. Either through
our desperate efforts to save Amiens, or by the workings of some
deeper cause, spent and disorganised as we were, we had begun to pull
level with the Germans again. The change was slight, but none the less
palpable.

On the 25th, a few Tanks of the 1st and 3rd Battalions fought with the
3rd Corps in a counter-attack against the most advanced of the new
German positions in the Bois d’Aquenne. The Tanks did a good deal of
execution, and we succeeded in driving in some of the forward German
posts.

On the 26th, four Tanks of the 1st Brigade had an interesting
experience.

The Allied forces on this part of the line consisted of a most curious
mixture of arms and races.

The scene, for example, in a neighbouring wood about ten days before is
thus described by the historian of the 1st Battalion:

  “The Bois d’Abbé presented a most picturesque spectacle, and any
  one taking the trouble to walk through it could have had the unique
  experience of seeing practically every branch of both the British
  and French Armies represented. In this wood were to be found
  Tanks of all descriptions, Mark IV.’s, V’s, Whippets and French
  Rénaults, heavy and light artillery, British infantry, Australians,
  French cavalry and infantry, Moroccans, and lastly a detachment
  of the Legion of Frontiersmen mounted on little Arab ponies,
  which presented a strange contrast to the heavy Percherons of the
  artillery.”

On April 26, it was in company with the Moroccan Division that the 1st
Battalion fought.

The enemy had launched a strong attack against the Front held by
these troops at 6 a.m. on the morning of the 26th, under cover of
the usual heavy mist. Very soon, however, a section of Tanks under
Captain Groves got right in amongst the advancing Germans and inflicted
heavy casualties upon them. The French Colonial infantry, who had
been obliged to fall back, immediately rallied and brought the German
assault to a standstill. In the course of the action Second Lieutenant
Wilson’s Tank found itself among some German heavy guns, which it
attacked with case shot[61] and machine-gun fire, wounding most of
their crews and killing the rest. Mr. Wilson then patrolled up and down
some trenches held by the enemy and cost them very heavy losses by his
enfilading fire. Eventually, having fired every round of ammunition
in his Tank, he decided to go back, but while he was on his way, his
magneto broke down. However, he sent back a messenger to fetch a new
magneto, and after this had been fitted, he returned to the rallying
point, his Tank having suffered the total casualties of two men
slightly wounded.

On the 28th, another Company of the same Battalion again co-operated
with the Moroccan Division. This time it was the Allies who were
the attackers, their objective being the Hangard Wood. Owing to a
mistake, the four Tanks did not get into action until rather late.
Second Lieutenant Jones’ Tank, however, fought a very good action,
clearing out a great number of machine-gun nests in the Wood, and
generally giving a great deal of help to the Moroccan infantry in their
advance. The Tank stayed in the Wood, until all its ammunition had been
expended, and then, the infantry deciding not to make a further attack,
it was withdrawn and rejoined its Company.

Except a small action of the 1st Battalion on May 2, the Tank Corps saw
no fighting for the next six weeks, and it was not till July 4 that
they fought again in any considerable action.


II

The general situation in May was still such as to cause our High
Command a certain anxiety. It is easy to be wise after the event and
say that the Germans must obviously have outrun their transport and
overtaxed the limited road capacity of the devastated area which
lay behind them. In early May this, though true, was not obvious.
Meanwhile, we had been too much weakened by the disasters of the last
six weeks to be able to counter-attack. Consequently, the enemy had
the same opportunities for reconstruction as we had ourselves, and
although we felt confident that after such a hurricane of battles
there must be a breathing space for both Armies, we were by no means
certain what would be the respective rôles of the two opposing sides
when the struggle came to be resumed. Our most pressing need was the
filling of the gaps in our Divisions and the closing of the huge
breaches which the German advance had made in our defensive systems.
The greatest need was for men. We had, it is true, to lay out new
trench lines and reconstruct such old systems as already existed, but
it was not likely that the enemy would afford us time to establish new
defences comparable with those which he had already proved his power of
overrunning. Therefore it was to procuring new and well-trained troops
that our chief efforts must be directed. The men procured, there must
be railways upon which to move them.

  [62]“The depth to which the enemy had penetrated in the Somme and
  Lys valleys had disrupted important lateral lines of railway,
  and had created a situation of extreme gravity with regard to
  the maintenance of communications in Northern France. At Amiens,
  Béthune, and Hazebrouck, much-used railway junctions had been
  brought under the effective fire of the enemy’s guns, while the
  railway centre at St. Pol was threatened. To relieve the situation
  a comprehensive programme of railway construction was undertaken.”

Some 200 miles of broad-gauge track was laid between April and
July and a complete series of new defences were built, involving,
incredible as it may seem, 5000 miles of trench. Nor were Tanks left
out of the scheme of reorganisation. But, alas! owing to the extreme
need of infantry reinforcements, and the difficulty of immediately
re-arming Battalions which had lost their Tanks during the Retreat,
this “reconstruction” all but took the form, not of augmentation,
but of diminution. It was proposed to reduce the number of Tank
Brigades from six to four. The appearance of enemy Tanks, however,
soon quashed this project. Not only had the Corps lost heavily in
machines, but the fighting done by the Lewis gun Units had been of a
particularly strenuous kind, and several Battalions had sustained such
casualties in trained and experienced men as to cause great anxiety
at Tank Headquarters. However, the Tank Corps were only in the same
predicament as the rest of the British Army, and there was nothing
for it but to gather up the bits with as much grace as possible and
to start away as quickly as might be on the work of reconstruction.
All through May, Mark V. machines were arriving in France at the rate
of about sixty a week. Some of the Battalions which had not taken any
part in the Retreat had been left in their original areas, in case the
Germans should attack, so that we find Battalions (for example of the
1st Brigade) doing “Savage Rabbit” as late as the middle of May. For
the most part, however, the Corps was gathered together undergoing
intensive training in the Bermicourt area. All Tank Units were to be
ready for action--re-armed, re-equipped and re-trained--by August 1.

The Central Workshops set to work in early June to prepare sledges
for supply haulage, bridges upon which the Whippets could cross wide
obstacles, and “Cribs” for the heavy Tanks. There “Cribs” were big
hexagonal oaken crates, reinforced with steel, which were an improved
and lighter version of the fascines which were improvised for the
Battle of Cambrai. Training grounds and workshops hummed with the
preparations, and when, in the last days of July, the call came, it
was, as we shall see, found possible to launch 400 Tanks at little over
a week’s notice.

It was while the Corps was training at Bermicourt that the foundation
of the excellent relations which ever afterwards existed between
Tanks and the French infantry was laid. A great number of French
troops happened to be billeted in and around the Tank Corps area, and
their keenness to learn all they could about our machines and their
tactics afforded great pleasure to the men of the British Tank Corps.
General Le Maistre, commanding the 10th French Army, particularly
asked that Tank demonstrations should be held for the Units of his
command. This was done, and all through May and June two or three
of these demonstrations were given weekly. Besides French troops,
representatives from a number of British and Colonial Corps, and the
Canadian and Australian Corps, also came to watch, to their great
edification.


III

We have said that only a few minor Tank actions were fought during the
last part of May and the month of June. Two of these small encounters,
however, were rather interesting. To begin with, the 17th Armoured Car
Battalion fought its first action in company with the French on June
11. At 9.30 on the morning of June 10 orders were received by Colonel
Carter, commanding the Battalion, to report to the 1st French Army at
Contay. At Contay instructions were issued for the Battalion to proceed
to Ravenel, near St. Just. The Battalion got this order by telephone,
and although the night was very dark and wet, and the roads crowded
with traffic, it reached Ravenel after a sixty miles’ journey by five
in the morning of June 11. That same day it went into action with
the 10th French Army in its counter-attack at Belloy. Two sections
of the Armoured Cars engaged the enemy with machine-gun fire, but
unfortunately the roads here were piled high with every sort of débris.
This prevented the cars from being as active as they were to prove
themselves later.

The second small action was a night raid, interesting as the first
in which Tanks had ever been engaged. Here the 10th Battalion fought
in conjunction with the 4th Corps. We were endeavouring to capture
a series of posts near Bucquoy, only five Platoons of infantry and
five female Tanks being employed. The raid began at about half-past
eleven at night. We were met with a heavy barrage from trench mortars
and machine-guns, and the infantry were held up. The Tanks, however,
managed to push forward, and carried on the attack in the pitch dark
by themselves. As they advanced they met with a number of large
parties of Germans, into the “brown” of which they fired. The Tanks
certainly accounted for a great many of the enemy, though it being, as
we have said, extremely dark, it was impossible to make a very exact
computation of the “bag.” Curiously enough, not a single Tank was
damaged by the trench mortar barrage, which was extremely heavy. One
Tank was swarmed over by a particularly bold party of the enemy and
the crew shot them down with their revolvers. Later on this same Tank
managed to rescue a wounded infantry officer who had earlier been taken
prisoner by the Germans. The raid is interesting as it demonstrated
the possibility of manœuvring Tanks in the dark through the enemy’s
lines--not a single machine lost direction--and also showed how much
protection was afforded to the machines by their invisibility.


IV

By the middle of June the British High Command had grown anxious to
make some test of the position of things on the enemy’s side of the
line. This they proposed to do by a more or less limited and tentative
attack, an attack which might, if it was successful, be utilised
as a dress rehearsal for larger ventures, or which, if it failed,
would not commit us too deeply. The Australians had been constantly
harassing their _vis à vis_ on the Villers Bretonneux Front, and the
High Command gave out that for this and other reasons they considered
that a better place than the sector opposite Villers Bretonneux could
hardly be found from which to launch our _ballon d’essai_. What those
“other reasons” were did not appear for nearly a month after the battle
had been fought. It was proposed that between sixty and seventy Tanks
belonging to the 5th Brigade should be employed. Our attack was to have
a strictly limited objective, its ostensible purpose being to capture
the spur running from the main Villers Bretonneux plateau towards
the Somme, on the east side of Hamel, and thus to gain important
observation and incidentally a useful jumping-off place for any
subsequent advance. “Z” day was to be on July 4.

Directly the attack had been decided upon, Tanks and Australians began
their combined training in the area of the 5th Tank Brigade. Tank
units were at once permanently affiliated to corresponding Australian
infantry units with whom they were to fight, and by this means a
very close comradeship was cultivated. It was (tradition relates),
most necessary that some special steps should be taken to ensure the
confidence of the Australian infantry in the Tank Corps, for, in the
absence of artillery preparation, upon the Tanks would almost entirely
depend the success and prestige of the Australians in this first Allied
offensive since the March disaster.

Now the Australians, though having, as it were, a natural affinity for
the activity and surprise of a Tank as against a prepared artillery
attack, were not inclined to bestow their approval on the Tanks without
due cause being given.

They still had vivid memories of the tragedy of errors of the
Bullecourt incident in 1917.

They were, however, very open-minded, and the battle partners had not
long been in training together before their relations were particularly
cordial.

Coy and hard to please as were the Australians in the beginning, the
triumphant success of their partnership in battle left them no memory
of their earlier shyness, and made them vociferous in their praises
of a combination that the Tanks had long felt would prove notably
effective.

The plan of the attack soon took exact shape. It is worth more or less
detailed consideration, as it was upon the lines of the Battles of
Cambrai and Hamel that all set Tank attacks were afterwards based.

  [63]“The operation was to be conducted as a direct advance
  of infantry and Tanks in two waves, under cover of a rolling
  artillery barrage. From a Brigade point of view, the points of
  chief interest lay, first, in the preliminary arrangements with
  the Australian Corps and the infantry concerned; secondly, in the
  somewhat intricate plans for assembling Tanks at their start lines
  with due provision for concealment; and, thirdly, in the methods
  devised for bringing up large quantities of infantry supplies to
  the final objective. At a conference held by the Australian Corps
  three days prior to the action the plans were finally settled and
  no alteration in these was permitted after that date. Thus infantry
  and Tank officers were able to confer in perfect faith that their
  mutual arrangements would be carried out without change, and this
  method was adhered to in all subsequent operations of a prepared
  type with the Australian Corps. Tanks were employed on a scale
  that was large in proportion to the front attacked, the saving of
  casualties to the infantry being made the most important factor in
  the plan.”

The main tactical features of the attack were the strongholds of Vaire
Wood, Hamel Wood, Pear-shaped Trench and Hamel Village. There was no
defined system of trench, except the old British lines just east of
Hamel which the enemy now occupied, and which had, of course, been
originally sited to face east. For the rest, the German defensive
consisted in machine-gun nests.

The attacking forces were the 4th Australian Division and four
companies of American infantry. The Artillery was to provide a rolling
barrage, behind which the infantry were to advance, followed by the
Tanks, which were only to pass ahead of them when resistance was
encountered. This last arrangement did not prove a good one.

The going was good, and the fertile country lay still and smiling in
its Midsummer pride. The camp allotted to the Tanks lay five miles
behind the line in the angle formed by the meeting of the Somme and the
Luce.

  [64]“It was an ideal spot in which to spend the summer months. In
  the cool of the evening, looking toward the west over the uncut
  cornfields, we could obtain a wonderful view of the old city of
  Amiens, its large cathedral, with the numbers of smaller church
  spires and smokeless chimneys clustering around it, being outlined
  against the setting sun. Toward the east one saw the ruined village
  of Villers Bretonneux standing on Hill 104, its château dominating
  the surrounding wreck of houses. It was hard to believe that the
  line was so close until the view was suddenly obliterated by the
  familiar sight of bursting shrapnel and the heavy smoke of the gas
  shells.”

The sixty fighting Tanks which were employed in the attack were divided
into two waves, the first of forty-eight, and the second of twelve
machines. As the advance intended was but a short one, the usual
gigantic system of supply dumps was not necessary. On the contrary,
each fighting Tank carried forward ammunition and water for the
infantry, and the four supply Tanks were detailed to carry up R.E.
supplies and other stores.

  [65]“Each of these four machines eventually delivered a load of
  about 12,500 lbs. within 500 yards of the final objective and
  within half an hour of its capture. The total amount of supplies
  delivered on July 4 at 40 lbs. per man represented the loads of
  a carrying party 1,250 men strong. The number of men used in the
  supply Tanks was twenty-four.”

No precise information as to time and place had been given to the Tank
Corps till just a week before the battle; but as the area had been
carefully reconnoitred for the last two months, very little had to be
done to complete this side of the preparations.

On the night of July 1–2, the Tanks were moved up to the assembly
point, an early move which was the result of the Australians’ last
lingering doubts as to the capacity of the Tanks for arriving in time
at _rendezvous_. No chance was thus given to any Tank of being late in
the starting line.

Machines of “C” flight of No. 8 Squadron of aeroplanes were to make
their début as honorary members of the Tank Corps on the morrow, for
the wonderful potentialities of aeroplane and Tank co-operation were
now fully realised, and the Tank Corps had been allotted a squadron of
its own.


VI

At three o’clock on the morning of July 4, almost before the sky had
begun to lighten, the Tank engines were swung up all along our line,
and at two minutes past the hour sixty graceful Mark V.’s slid forward
after their infantry, two low-flying aeroplanes escorting them. As the
Tanks moved along, the crew’s blessed the sweet running of their new
machines, for there had not been a single mechanical hitch of any sort,
and they knew that the shrewd eyes of the Australians had been fixed
like gimlets upon them.

But the whole day was to be one long triumph for the Mark V.

Here and there as the attack surged forward the Tanks were leading,
following close behind the bursting shells. Here and there the
Australians were ahead. The enemy’s infantry put up little or no fight,
but their machine-gunners resisted us with the tenacious courage which
we had learned to expect.

But our onrush was inexorable. The new Tanks were possessed, the
Germans found, of a deadly power of manœuvre which they used to the
full, expending little ammunition upon machine-gun nests, but, even
when they had passed an emplacement by in the first rush, swinging
swiftly round on the wretched gunners and crushing guns and crews
beneath them. As a Tank chronicler somewhat grimly remarks: “This
method eliminated all chance of the enemy coming to life again after
the attack had passed by.”

Over 200 machine-guns were accounted for during the day. There were
also other and rarer little groups of picked men which the Tanks here
and there routed out of the standing crops.

These little parties, generally consisting of three men, were armed
with a special rifle of gigantic size designed to be fired--like
our Lewis gun--from a bipod. Its projectile was a heavy steel-cored
armour-piercing bullet.

It was a new anti-Tank weapon, a weapon from which the Germans hoped
great things.

With the 13th Battalion, a Tank which had advanced ahead of the
infantry, came upon some enemy dug-outs, on the far side of a trench
too broad for their machine to cross. From these dug-outs the enemy
were keeping up a hot fire.

The Tank Commander, Second Lieutenant Edwards, and Private Benns,
immediately got out of their Tank and attacked the garrison on foot.
Between them the two killed seven of the enemy with their revolvers,
and the rest they took prisoners, and handed over to the infantry at
the first opportunity.

There were many fine pieces of individual work, especially instances of
Tanks helping each other under heavy fire, and there is little doubt
that it was to this friendly co-operation, this towing of lame Tanks
out of hot corners, the astonishingly low casualties in machines were
partly due.

The despatch tells how the battle fared all along the line.

  “Moving up and down behind the barrage, the Tanks either killed the
  enemy or forced him to take shelter in dug-outs, where he became an
  easy prey to the infantry. Hamel was taken by envelopment from the
  flanks and rear, the enemy was driven from Vaire Wood, and at the
  end of the day our troops had gained all their objectives and over
  1500 prisoners.”

Our little success had been complete and triumphant.

No less than fifty-seven of the sixty fighting Tanks came through the
day without a scratch, the infantry killed and wounded amounted to
less than half the German prisoners who passed through our cages; and
as we have seen, the battle between Tanks and machine-guns being _à
l’outrance_, the proportion of Germans killed to those made prisoners
had been unusually high.

As for the Tank crews, they suffered only thirteen men wounded. To our
great satisfaction also, the five damaged machines were all salved, and
thus the armament of the Mark V.’s could not be investigated by the
enemy.

But at first almost the most striking characteristic of the victory
seemed the perfect co-operation between Tanks and infantry.

The Tanks and the Australians were equally enthusiastic over one
another’s performances. The Australians were surprised and delighted at
the weight and solidity which the sixty Tanks had lent their impact,
and at the sense of support and comradeship which their men had
experienced.

The Tank Corps were equally impressed by the superb _moral_ of the
Australians,[66] “who never considered that the presence of Tanks
exonerated them from fighting, and who took instant advantage of any
opportunity created by the Tanks.”

A generous and lasting friendship had been established. The 5th Tank
Brigade and their Australians were destined throughout their coming
partnership to prove an almost invincible combination.

But it was not alone the battle partners who were pleased and surprised.

The whole Allied front rang with the news of victory.

We had sent up our tentative _ballon d’essai_, and behold it had sailed
up, high above our highest expectations and now hung, a token in the
sky. All men might know that though Apollyon had straddled all across
the way, we had beaten him and were at last come out of the Valley of
Humiliation.




CHAPTER XVI

WITH THE FRENCH--THE BATTLE OF MOREUIL


The 5th Brigade and the Australians had sworn eternal friendship with a
refreshing enthusiasm.

They were like two schoolgirl friends, not to be separated, and at
Vaux, whither they had retired for combined training, metaphorically
went about all day with their arms round each other’s waists.

Therefore, when on July 17 orders reached the 5th Tank Brigade
that they were to send a Battalion south to fight with the French,
consternation reigned.

If anybody went it would have to be the 2nd Battalion, which had not
fought at Hamel at all.

But surely some way out could be found by which the Australians’ own
Brigade of Tanks should not be thus cruelly dismembered?

And the authorities, with positively avuncular benevolence--after
a little humming and hahing--were actually induced to make
another arrangement; as the friends firmly believed, solely upon
their representations. There were, however, other more military
considerations.

The attack was still to be under Brigadier-General Courage, but an
extra Battalion, the 9th, should be added to the Brigade for the
occasion.

This apparently whimsical outcry of the new-found affinities, and the
yielding of the authorities, were to be justified thrice over in the
events of the next few months.

For at this early period a little thing might upset the forging of a
weapon which was to prove the two-edged sword with which we were to
“smite Amalek hip and thigh.”

As soon as it had been decided that the 9th Battalion was to go,
preparations were at once begun.

The French plans were already well advanced before the Tanks came upon
the scene at all. The attacking troops had indeed been in the area
since April, but the Tanks felt that they would be eternally disgraced
if they were obliged so much as to hint that they would like even a
day’s postponement of this, their first battle with the French.

Indeed in this battle we see the first instance of the wonderful
“speeding up” which the Allied Army underwent almost as soon as the
joint command was concentrated in the hands of Marshal Foch.

An officer who was present throughout the battle and its preliminaries
writes:

  “On a certain Wednesday General Elles and General Courage had an
  interview at 3 p.m. with the 4th Army Commander and were consulted
  as to the project.

  “At 4.30 they saw General Debeney (the French Army Commander) and
  the French Corps Commander, when railheads and a general scheme of
  movement were decided upon.

  “That night the 9th Battalion was warned, and the battle took place
  at dawn on the following Tuesday.”

Practice makes perfect, and we gradually discovered that the kind of
full-dress attacks for which we had always, as a matter of course,
allowed a month of preparation, could, in fact, be staged in half that
time.

We see in the huge Battle of Amiens, of which only ten days’ notice was
given to the troops who took part, how great a reform we managed to
accomplish.


II

The attack was to be at dawn on July 23, and was to be--like Hamel--a
more or less limited and experimental battle.

Its immediate object was to seize St. Ribert Wood in order to outflank
Mailly Raineval from the south, to abolish certain highly objectionable
German batteries which lay near St. Ribert, and to advance the French
field guns eastward in such a way that they would bear upon the high
ridges which dominate the right bank of the river Avre.

The country here was undulating and the soil well drained, and, except
for a number of large and very dense woods, there were very few Tank
obstacles.

There were to be three objectives. The first was a line which
ran through the Bois des Sauvillers, Adelpare Farm, and
Les-Trois-Boqueleaux. Twelve Tanks and four Battalions of French
infantry were detailed for its capture.

The second objective included the clearing of the plateau to the north
of the Bois des Sauvillers, and the capture of a corner of the Bois
de Harpan. Twenty-four Tanks were allotted to this objective and four
infantry Battalions.

The third was a line of German posts, known as the “Blue Line,”
covering the second objective, and was to be attacked by a strong
force of infantry and all the surviving Tanks. The whole attack
was to be preceded by a short intense bombardment, including heavy
counter-battery work, and the creeping barrage was to consist of a
mixture of high explosive and smoke. The Tanks were to attack in
sections of three, two in front and one in immediate support, the
infantry advancing in small groups close behind the Tanks.

Three days before the battle the officers of the 9th Battalion and some
of the Staff of the 5th Brigade came down to the battle site, and,
helped by the Staff of the French 3rd Division, made a pretty thorough
reconnaissance of the ground. That same evening the Tanks detrained at
Contay.

The 9th Battalion had been busy doing such tactical training as was
possible with its new colleagues on the 5th Brigade training ground.
The time was short and the difficulties of language great, but in spite
of this a very friendly understanding had been come to.

Besides this, it had had an unusual amount of trekking to do.

It had had over eight miles to travel across country to its place of
entrainment. From Contay, the rail terminus, the Tanks moved in all
over another eight miles before they got into action.

At ten o’clock on the night before the battle the Tanks were informed
that the attack, which was to have been at dawn, was postponed
until 5.30. By this time it would, the Tank crews somewhat ruefully
reflected, be broad daylight.

However, there was nothing to be done but to hope that the wind would
help our smoke screens.

The weather had for some time been fine, but on the morning of attack
heavy rain began to fall, driven up by a south wind.

The prospect of a really effective smoke cloud did not seem very great.

However, it was in the best of fighting spirits that the Tanks and
their infantry went forward at zero hour--indeed, though it was no
walk-over and all arms suffered fairly heavily, high spirits seem to
have particularly characterised both French and British in this battle.

A member of the Tank Corps testifies naïvely to the way in which the
Tanks had got their tails up.

  “Brigadier-General Courage, who was much in evidence, was
  continually visiting the Battalion and conversing with the
  officers. From the nature of his suggestions and advice, a very
  ordinary thinker could easily come to the conclusion that he did
  not care for the Germans.”

As the first wave Tanks and infantry advanced, they found that the
enemy was putting down a fairly heavy barrage in many places. However,
moving ahead of the infantry, the Tanks cleared Arrachis Wood,
destroying a number of machine-guns, and after a slight resistance,
captured the first objective--Sauvillers Village, Adelpare Farm and
Les-Trois-Boqueleaux--fifteen minutes before the infantry arrived. Two
Tanks were knocked out by shells.

In the second phase, the Tanks of “B” and “C” Companies moved forward
in support of their infantry on either side of Sauvillers Wood. As
they swept forward, they outstripped the French patrols, but after a
while turned back to maintain touch. It was by now about 9.30 a.m. The
Tanks could not immediately find their partners, and unfortunately, as
they were thus cruising about, no less than six Tanks were put out of
action, one after another, by a single battery, apparently one of those
lurking to the south of St. Ribert Wood, and whose destruction was one
of the objects of the attack.

In another sector a Battalion Commander in the 51st Regiment of French
Infantry, which was moving up in support, determined that if possible
he would attack Harpon Wood, and asked the officer commanding “B”
Company of Tanks for assistance. The Company Commander immediately
entered into the scheme with alacrity and between them a plan of attack
for the French infantry and the seven Tanks was rapidly arranged. This
little improvised action was a great success, Tanks and infantry duly
capturing the Wood and at least one hostile battery. Only two Tanks
were damaged.

It was not far from Harpon that Captain Dalton’s Tank, in the confusion
due to the smoke, got some distance ahead of its infantry. Near
the Wood, Captain Dalton located an enemy battery. After a little
manœuvring he managed to get a direct hit upon one of the guns and
drove off the crews of the other pieces with machine-gun fire, thus
silencing the whole battery. He then manœuvred his Tank into position
to tow back one of the enemy guns, but at this moment his machine
received a direct hit, and shortly after, a second shell added to
the damage. Captain Dalton evacuated his crew, and, having done so,
made every effort to get back to the derelict Tank, for it must be
remembered that as yet no Mark V. had ever fallen into German hands.
He was under intense machine-gun fire and in direct view of the enemy,
but, realising the importance of blowing up the remains of his Tank, he
still attempted the adventure. But it was in vain, for as he was thus
trying to crawl up, he was severely wounded in the thigh. He managed,
however, to drag himself back into the French lines.

Nor was Second Lieutenant C. Mecredy, a Section Commander, less anxious
that his knocked-out Tank should be completely destroyed rather than
fall into the hands of the enemy.

He had been advancing ahead of his infantry, when a shell from a
concealed field gun hit the Tank in which he was leading the attack.
At once seizing up a number of smoke bombs, he got out of his machine,
went back, and, throwing down his bombs, put up a smoke curtain to
cover the Tanks that were following him, lest they should share the
fate of his own machine. His manœuvre was perfectly successful, for
under cover of the smoke the other Tanks changed their direction and
escaped the guns. With some difficulty Mr. Mecredy managed to dodge
his way back to his Tank, under heavy hostile shelling and machine-gun
fire, successfully blew it up, and was preparing to go back when he
discovered that one of his crew was lying wounded in the leg in a very
exposed place. This man he managed to bring back with him to safety.

By the evening all the three objectives had been gained, and the French
Command were very well satisfied with the success of the action.

Especially delighted was the General Commanding the 3rd
Division--General Bourgon--who was a great friend of the British Tank
Corps, and who had been as anxious as we that no hitch should mar this
first combined battle.

Both French and British had suffered rather heavy casualties, the
French 3rd Division, with whom we had acted, losing over seven hundred
officers and men.

Fifteen Tanks out of thirty-six had been knocked out by direct hits,
and of the fifteen rather a large proportion were beyond salving.

However, the enemy’s losses were also heavy. The prisoners totalled
over eighteen hundred, and we took 5 field guns, 45 trench mortars and
275 machine-guns.

Before the 9th Battalion went back to the training area it had the
honour of being inspected by General Debeney, commanding the 1st French
Army.

He was kind enough to express extreme pleasure at the way in which the
Tanks fought, and in his special Order of the Day gave the Battalion
praise of which they will ever be proud.

  “Finally, I owe a special tribute of thanks to the Battalion of
  British Tanks, whose powerful and devoted assistance has aided and
  assured our success.

  “Commanded by an experienced and skilful leader, the Tanks have
  again added to that rich harvest of laurels which this new arm has
  not ceased to gather since its first appearance in September 1916.
  They have given to the Division the finest example of bravery, of
  energy, of comradeship in action, and of training for war carried
  to the highest degree of perfection. Their assistance has enabled
  the infantry to gain a brilliant victory in which they themselves
  share largely.”

Finally, as a token of comradeship between the French troops of the 3rd
Division and the 9th Tank Battalion, this Battalion had the honour of
being presented with the badge of the 3rd French Division. Since that
day they have worn it proudly on their left sleeve.




CHAPTER XVII

THE BATTLE OF AMIENS, OR BATTLE OF AUGUST 8


I

The ambitious offensive which the Germans had launched on July 15 had
collapsed. Our somewhat tentative counter-offensive at Hamel had been
surprisingly successful, and there had been a complete change in the
general military situation.

The German reserves were, it would seem, nearly used up, while
ours--fresh troops which had become available during the spring and
early summer--had now been incorporated and trained. Better still, the
American Army was growing rapidly.

We were at last ready again to take the offensive on a grand scale.

On July 23, when the success of the battles of the 18th was well
assured, a conference was held in which General Foch asked that the
British, French, and American Armies should each simultaneously take
the offensive.

Their assaults were to be immediate.

On the British front, after some consideration of the rival merits
of various battle sites, it was decided that the attack was to be
delivered to the east of Amiens on a front extending from Albert to
Montdidier, and was to have for its immediate object the freeing of the
Paris-Amiens railway, whose proximity to the German lines had proved so
exceedingly hampering to our transport arrangements.

If the battle was successful, our advance could be exploited in a
second attack directed towards the St. Quentin-Cambrai line. This line
was one whose integrity was of vital importance to the enemy, as he had
long ago confessed in the labour and money which he had poured out upon
the vast elaborations of the Hindenburg defences.

For, twenty miles behind the Hindenburg Line lay the great railway
centres round Maubeuge, the key position of his whole system of lateral
communication.

If we could once penetrate so far, we should cut the only
communications by which the German forces to the south in Champagne
could be supplied and maintained, and should sever these troops
completely from the group of German Armies operating in Flanders.

Of this great enterprise the first step was the ever memorable Battle
of Amiens.


II

Preparations for the great attack were instantly begun. The battle
plans were first made known in the last days of July to the commanders
who were to take part, “Z” day being fixed for August 8.

The three Brigades of Tanks which were to fight, (the 5th, 3rd, and
4th) had their first intimation of what was afoot on July 27, and their
orders were confirmed on August 4.

Briefly, these were the general lines on which the battle was to be
fought.

Preparations were to be rushed through. They were to be as secret as
brief.

The battle itself was to be in two phases.

First, an attack without artillery preparation, but under the
protection of a creeping barrage. The whole action was to be very much
on the lines of the First Battle of Cambrai, save that this time (1)
an even larger number of Tanks--about 430 including Whippets--were to
head the battle; (2) that light skirmishing lines of infantry were to
be used; and that (3) as at Hamel we were this time attacking a more
or less improvised defence line. The second phase of the attack, which
was to be made by a fresh wave of troops, was to start about four hours
after zero, that is, after the first objective had been taken.

During this second phase, the artillery was to be moved up and we were
to advance without a barrage.

_On the right_ was to be the Canadian Corps, and with them the 4th
Brigade[67] of Tanks was to fight.

_In the centre_, with the Australian Corps its usual battle partner,
the 5th Tank Brigade,[68] was again to operate.

_On the left_, north of the Somme, two Divisions of the 3rd Corps were
to have the 10th Tank Battalion attached to them.

Behind these three bodies three cavalry Divisions, the 3rd Brigade of
Whippet Tanks, and the 17th Battalion of Armoured Cars, were to be
concentrated.

Their work was chiefly the exploitation of the second phase. The
Armoured Car Battalion had only just returned from operations with the
French.

  [69]“When the 6th French Cavalry Division was withdrawn to rest,
  the 17th Battalion proceeded to Senlis, and at 9 a.m., having
  just entered this town, it received orders to proceed forthwith
  to Amiens and report to the Headquarters of the Australian Corps.
  Amiens, which was nearly 100 miles distant, was reached the same
  night.

  “On arriving, Lieut.-Colonel Carter was informed that his unit was
  to take part in the projected attack east of that town. The chief
  difficulty foreseen in an armoured car action in this neighbourhood
  was the crossing of the trenches. Although only one day was
  available wherein to find a solution to this difficulty, it was
  accomplished by attaching a small force of Tanks to the Battalion.
  These Tanks were used to tow the armoured cars over the obstacles,
  or rather along the tracks the Tanks formed through them. This
  solution proved eminently successful.”

Short as was the time for preparations, an elaborate deceptive scheme
was planned and carried out, to make it seem that we intended to
fight in Flanders. Canadians were put into the line on the Kemmel
front, where in due course the enemy identified them. Ostentatious
Headquarters and Casualty Clearing Stations were conspicuously
disposed about the area. Throughout the 1st Army sector our wireless
stations hummed with messages about the concentration of troops, and
arrangements were made to make it seem that a great assembling of Tanks
was taking place near St. Pol. Here, indeed, Tanks elaborately trained
with infantry on fine days--days, that is to say, on which the enemy’s
long-distance reconnaissance and photographic aeroplanes were likely to
be at work behind our lines.

The ruse was perfectly successful and--as we found out afterwards--the
news of our “great projected attack in Flanders” soon spread, and by
the time we were ready to strike on the Somme the enemy was momentarily
expecting to be attacked in force in the north.


III

Meanwhile, hectic days and still more hectic nights were being passed
near Amiens.

The reader is to imagine that elaborate preparations such as were
described as the preliminaries to Cambrai and which took a month to
carry out, had now to be executed in a little over a week.

Reconnaissance had to be carried out, details of plans and liaison
arranged, and dumps had to be made, the last on an unprecedentedly
large scale, so great a number of Tanks never having gone into action
together before.

In the centre (the Australian sector) certain units in the 5th Brigade
had been newly equipped with Mark V. star infantry-carrying Tanks. No
one was very familiar with these machines, and so, in addition to other
preparations, such units had infantry-carrying to practise with their
Australians. One circumstance greatly added to the fraternal feeling of
the 5th Brigade towards their familiar battle partners. As soon as the
final conference was ended, General Monash laid down the principle that
on no consideration should any alteration be allowed in the plans as
then approved. It was therefore possible for all the Tank units to work
out the details of their schemes in perfect confidence.

The battlefield lay on either bank of the river Somme, which ran to the
north of the area of attack, and as far as Péronne, almost at right
angles to the lines of the two armies.

South of it, a number of gullies, roughly parallel to the battle front,
ran down to the river from high ground which formed the watershed
between the Somme and the small river Luce.

Two of these steep gullies, the Cérisy Valley, and another which ran
from Morcourt almost to Harbonnières, were to be great features in the
battle, forming as they did admirable cover for the concealment of
batteries or for the assembling of troops for a counter-attack.

The following notes on the Luce were given to the author by Major
Hotblack:--

“The river Luce, though only a small marshy stream, formed _the_ great
difficulty of the plan of operations.

“Part of it was in the French lines, and as to put up fresh bridges
would have attracted the enemy’s attention, the attacking troops had to
cross it in a few places and deploy afterwards in the dark.

“In that sector where the Luce flowed within the enemy’s lines, it ran
diagonally across the front of attack of the Canadian Division.

“A great deal of trouble was taken in finding out all possible details
of this little river, and it caused anxiety to every one concerned from
the Field-Marshal himself downwards.

“The Luce sector of the front lay within the lines then held by
the French, and in addition to various Reconnaissance Officers,
Major-General Lipsett, commanding the 3rd Canadian Division, and
Brig.-General Hankey, commanding the 4th Tank Brigade, carried out
personal reconnaissance of the river in general and Domarat Bridge in
particular.

“Both these General Officers had great reputations for personal
gallantry, and always endeavoured to see for themselves what the
conditions really were before committing their troops.

“The French troops then holding the line, knowing nothing beyond the
fact that they were to be relieved by the British, expressed the
greatest astonishment and admiration for our thoroughness and for the
remarkable conscientiousness and pertinacity of our Generals and
General Staff Officers, in so frequently visiting the forward positions
of an unhealthy sector. We had no choice but blandly to assure them
that this was their unvarying practice whenever a relief of any sort
was contemplated.”

As another result of the great secrecy that had been imposed, no
officer knew who else was in the secret, and on one occasion Major
Hotblack and another British officer met on the banks of the Luce and
each made lengthy explanations which explained everything except the
real reason why they were there. Two days later these officers met at
a conference on the operations, and congratulated each other on the
plausibility of their several explanations. It had been no easy matter
to pretend that it was quite a normal thing for them to paddle in the
Luce in close proximity to the enemy.

On the day all went well, however, and the information about the river
proved to be correct to the last detail, and as had been anticipated,
though the bridges in the enemy lines had been blown up, the gaps were
sufficiently small for Tanks to cross on the abutments.

Generally speaking, the going was good, and the fact that the weather
had been reasonably fine for some time before the day of attack made
our preparations the easier.

All night, for four or five nights before the battle, the carrying
Tanks had plied up and down, forming dumps of tens of thousands of
gallons of petrol and water and millions of rounds of ammunition.

At last the time came for the final moving up of both the fighting and
supply Tanks to their assembly positions, about two miles behind the
lines.

No. 1 Gun Carrier Company of Tanks had been allotted to the
5th Australian Division, and lay up in an orchard north of
Villers-Bretonneux.

All went well till the late afternoon of August 7, when a chance shot
from the enemy set one of these Tanks blazing.

The enemy promptly began to shell the area heavily, and destroyed
nearly the whole Company of Tanks and their loads. It was on this
occasion that Second Lieutenant Henderson Smith was awarded the
Military Cross.

The following account of his action appears in the list of “Honours and
Awards”:--

  “As soon as the first Tank was hit, Second Lieutenant Smith rushed
  to the scene and collected men to aid him, and so initiated
  the work of rescuing the Tanks. He showed the utmost skill in
  organising the withdrawal of Tanks from the blaze.

  “Although several of his helpers were men from other units and
  inexperienced in Tank work, this gallant officer succeeded in
  moving two Tanks away from the heart of the fire. This bold action
  undoubtedly enabled the people on his right to save three Tanks.
  Unfortunately these two Tanks were hit and set on fire by the
  explosions on other Tanks. On each occasion Second Lieutenant
  Smith was the last to leave the blazing machine. The Tanks were
  loaded with explosives for the infantry, gun-cotton, bombs, trench
  mortars, etc., besides two fills of petrol each.”

The shelling was an uncomfortable incident, not only because of the
loss at the last moment of the machines and of the masses of stores
which they carried, but because such a bombardment might be an
indication that the enemy suspected the presence of Tanks.

However, as at Cambrai, there was nothing to be done, and it remained
only to try to hurry forward more stores to replace those which had
been burnt. This was successfully accomplished.

Final lying-up places for the 300 heavy Tanks had been arranged all
along the front at about 4000 yards from the front line.

At about the time when the Tanks were moving up to these “jumping-off
places” the enemy may have been somewhat puzzled to observe that a
number of large aeroplanes with exceedingly noisy engines kept flying
about between the lines. In any case, what he did not observe was the
noise made by 300 advancing Tanks.


IV

The night of the 7th-8th was damp and still, and at about four o’clock
on the 8th a dense ground mist had begun to drift up the river valley.
Soon the whole air was one silent white sea of vapour. So thick was it
that the assaulting infantry and Tanks had immediately to prepare to
move entirely by compass, for it was impossible to see a yard ahead
through the dense silent blanket.

Nothing, it would seem, was further from the Germans’ thoughts than
that the steaming quiet of the early autumn morning was to be so
terribly broken. At a quarter past four his lines were perfectly
silent. He was far from being in a truculent mood in this sector, and
for a week his attitude had been unobtrusive. Here and there a German
sentry, his grey greatcoat silvered like gossamer by the pearls of the
mist, would cough, stamping his feet as he peered listlessly through
the fog for stray trespassers in No Man’s Land.

Suddenly at 4.20 our massed artillery opened an intense fire along the
eleven miles of front.

The German front line was drenched in a hurricane of shells, and
behind, his unprepared batteries were for some time completely
smothered by the violence of our fire.

Before the Germans had had time to recover their wits, all along the
line the Tanks emerged by tens and twenties upon them out of the fog.

The forward positions were completely overwhelmed, the Tanks not so
much destroying the enemy with their fire as simply running down his
machine-gun emplacements and crushing crews and guns beneath them.

Our first wave was soon out beyond the enemy’s lightly held
front-trench system, and the survivors and the second wave were
fighting their way through his scattered machine-gun emplacements
towards the first phase objective.

With the Australians in the centre, a Company of the 13th Battalion
advanced rapidly over undulating country, apparently “swallowing the
ground” of both first and second phases at a run.

  [70]“The method of attack was adapted to suit the ground; leaving
  the infantry established on a crest, Tanks would go forward across
  the valley, maintaining fire on isolated machine-gun posts, and
  gain positions on the forward ridge. In all cases this induced the
  enemy to give themselves up, and enabled the infantry to advance
  to the next crest. On the right of this sector ‘B’ Company quickly
  placed their infantry in their final first phase objective north
  of the main road. ‘C’ Company on the left had more trouble; a
  field gun placed on the high ground across the river near Chipilly
  was in position to enfilade the advance, and knocked out three
  Tanks. This for some time caused a withdrawal by the infantry.
  By noon, however, the remaining Tanks had placed their infantry
  in the required final positions, and all active opposition had
  ceased. Throughout the operation there was abundant evidence of the
  hasty retreat of the enemy. In the gully south-east of Morcourt a
  transport-park, complete with wagons and harness, was left behind,
  and at the southern end of the same gully a field canteen was found
  well stocked with light wines and German beer.”

With the Canadians also the advance was rapid, but here the mist was so
thick that Tank sections got completely mixed up and fought cheerfully
all over each other’s areas.

The carefully planned and methodical assault had to give place to a
more or less primitive _mêlée_ in which each Tank generally sought out
and slew Germans wherever they might happen to find them.

Though far from scientific, this method when allied with the _élan_ of
the Canadian infantry proved highly successful.

With the 3rd Corps the fighting was heavier, and more difficulty was
experienced in advancing. The heavy Tanks and infantry, however, soon
everywhere held the line whose capture was to mark the end of the
first phase (_i.e._, Marcelcave, and the Cérisy Valley to south of
Morlancourt).


V

The second phase of the attack, which started four hours after zero,
was very different from the first. The mist which had hampered but
concealed our approach had now given place to brilliant sunshine. The
enemy had had ample warning and had time to dispose his “stout-hearted
artillery and machine-gunners” to meet the advance. In these conditions
his resistance stiffened. With the Australians,[71] “Enemy field
batteries firing over open sights engaged and knocked out Tanks, some
in the neighbourhood of Bayonvillers and near Cérisy Village. The crews
were, however, in many cases able to move forward with their Hotchkiss
guns and put the hostile batteries out of action. The surviving Tanks
pressed on to the final objective, the Australian infantry being quick
to seize the openings that had been made.”

The final objective allotted to the 2nd Tank Battalion was Harbonnières
Village.

The machine-gun and artillery fire had been heavy. However, the
first-wave Tanks rallied at the Cérisy Valley and with the rest of the
Battalion launched the attack on the second objective.

Lieut.-Colonel Bryce led his Tanks triumphantly to the successive
capture of all the objectives allotted to them--Warfusée, Lamotte,
Bayonvillers, and a number of other villages.

At last they reached Harbonnières, their last objective, and, still on
foot, Colonel Bryce entered the place with his leading Tanks and ran up
an Australian flag over the village.

In the naïve words of “Honours and Awards,” “This had a most
stimulating effect on every one.”

In the same sector, Lieutenant Percy Eade and his Tank (of the 2nd
Battalion) appear to have captured a village single-handed, and, best
of all, to have solemnly demanded a receipt upon handing it over to the
Australians.

  [72]“During the attack on the 8th inst. this officer showed great
  initiative, skill and bravery in dealing with unexpected resistance
  by the enemy.

  “On being informed by the infantry that Marcelcave was still
  holding out and was endangering their right flank, he arranged
  a scheme of attack with the infantry commander and proceeded to
  quell the opposition. He destroyed at least six machine-guns with
  their crews, besides taking many prisoners. He then handed over
  the village to the infantry, from whom he took a receipt. After
  regaining his position and during the second phase of the attack,
  he heard opposition coming from Bayonvillers, so he proceeded
  towards that village. As he was approaching it from the south-west
  he discovered a group of three light field guns, two of which were
  firing at him at short range. These guns had already knocked out
  several Tanks. With great gallantry and determination he manœuvred
  his Tank in their direction, and so directed the fire of his own
  guns that he dispersed the gunners. After running over one of the
  field guns, he proceeded into the village, where his Tank was
  directly responsible for capturing at least forty of the enemy.

  “Throughout the whole of the operation, this Tank Commander set his
  crew a magnificent example of courage and determination. (Immediate
  Reward.)”

The 13th Battalion History is particularly full of allusions to
the excellence of their relations with their battle partners, the
Australians.

All Tanks of this Battalion displayed on a painted board the colours of
their own infantry, of whom one N.C.O. stayed with each crew and rode
as an observer in the Tank on the day of battle. It may here be noted
that these Australian N.C.O.’s were of the greatest use in keeping
touch with the infantry, and incidentally returned to their units with
a largely enhanced opinion of the courage and endurance of the Tank
Corps personnel.

In the second phase one Tank was of service in keeping touch between
two Companies of infantry, until a gap in the line could be closed.

With the Canadians, the second phase was equally hot. A typical action
was fought by a machine belonging to the 14th Battalion.

  [73]“Second Lieutenant Gould’s Tank was pushing on towards the Red
  Line, which overlooked the valley running south. Here the enemy
  were found to be organising for a counter-attack. Enemy transport
  with a large number of stragglers, estimated at 1000, was in full
  retreat up the road, and in the valley itself a force estimated
  at half a battalion was forming up and being reinforced by other
  parties coming over the hill in rear. All the time this Tank was
  under heavy fire from machine-guns and snipers from the left
  flank and rear. Fire was opened with 6-pounders on the transport
  and direct hits observed. M.G. fire was also directed with good
  effect on the excellent targets in the valley, causing confusion
  and disorganisation in the enemy ranks. With the prolonged running
  at high speed the interior of the Tank rapidly became unbearable
  through heat and petrol fumes, and the crew were forced to evacuate
  it and to take cover underneath. At this moment two of the crew
  were wounded, one was sick, one fainted and one was delirious.
  Fortunately, before the enemy could take advantage of the lull, two
  Whippet Tanks and a body of cavalry came up, and the enemy in the
  valley began to retreat over the hill.”

The 1st Tank Battalion, with the Canadians, suffered extremely severely.

  [74]“Owing to the French having been held up, the British were
  subjected to a heavy enfilade fire from the villages of Beaucourt
  and Le Quesneu and nine of the eleven Tanks belonging to ‘A’
  Company received direct hits from a field battery firing over open
  sights from Le Quesneu. The majority caught fire and were burnt
  out, and very severe casualties resulted, three out of the four
  Section Commanders being killed and the remaining one wounded and
  captured. This disaster was followed by a particularly heroic
  action on the part of Second Lieutenant Cassell, who observed the
  destructive fire of the battery, and, passing through the burning
  victims of its shells, steered straight on to it, in an attempt to
  avenge the destruction of his comrades. His heroism was in vain,
  for before he had proceeded many yards he received a shell through
  the front of his Tank which put it out of action and killed Second
  Lieutenant Cassell and most of his crew.”

Meanwhile, the Whippets and the cavalry had pushed forward.

They and the armoured cars were to press on beyond the limits of the
infantry and heavy Tank attack.

Generally the Whippets were to precede the cavalry, in order to silence
machine-guns, deal with wire, if any, and generally to pave the way.

In practice, however:

  [75]“Difficulty was found in maintaining touch with cavalry owing
  to the impossibility of keeping up with galloping horsemen on the
  one hand, and to the impossibility of a mounted advance in the face
  of heavy machine-gun fire on the other hand. Thus, two sections
  of ‘C’ Company, 3rd Battalion lost touch with their cavalry in
  climbing a steep hill out of Ignaucourt Valley.”

There were, in fact, innumerable instances of liaison difficulties.

  “Another Company was ordered to obtain touch with 3rd Cavalry
  Brigade, but on reporting to the rendezvous, no cavalry was seen.

  “Zero hour had been postponed three hours, but this was not known
  till later.

  “Being unable to obtain touch with the cavalry, assistance was
  rendered about noon to Canadian infantry attacking Beaufort and
  Warvillers. This attack was successful and Whippets rendered great
  assistance.”

Far happier was the lot of certain Whippets which played an independent
part. The following is a first-hand account of the adventures of one
such machine, the ever-to-be-remembered Whippet, “Musical Box.”

[Illustration: SMOKE SCREEN AND SEMAPHORE]

[Illustration: A TANKADROME]

As the story will show, for many months no news was obtained of the
fate of the machine or of her crew of one officer, Lieutenant C. B.
Arnold, and two men, Gunner Ribbans and Driver Carney, and it was not
till January 1919 that the following amazing tale appeared in _Weekly
Tank Notes_:--

  “On August 8, 1918, I commanded Whippet ‘Musical Box’ in ‘B’
  Company, 6th Battalion. We left the lying-up point at zero (4.20
  p.m.) and proceeded across country to the south side of the
  railway at Villers-Bretonneux. We crossed the railway, in column
  of sections, by the bridge on the eastern outskirts of the town. I
  reached the British front line and passed through the Australian
  infantry and some of our heavy Tanks (Mark V.), in company with
  the remainder of the Whippets of ‘B’ Company. Four sections of
  ‘B’ Company proceeded parallel with the railway (Amiens-Ham)
  across country due east. After proceeding about 2000 yards in this
  direction I found myself to be the leading machine, owing to the
  others having become ditched, etc. To my immediate front I could
  see more Mark V. Tanks being followed very closely by Australian
  infantry. About this time we came under direct shell-fire from a
  4-gun field battery, of which I could see the flashes, between
  Abancourt and Bayonvillers. Two Mark V. Tanks, on my right, were
  knocked out. I saw clouds of smoke coming out of these machines
  and the crews evacuate them. The infantry following the heavy
  machines were suffering casualties from this battery. I turned
  half-left and ran diagonally across the front of the battery, at
  a distance of about 600 yards. Both my guns were able to fire on
  the battery, in spite of which they got off about eight rounds at
  me without damage, but sufficiently close to be audible inside
  the cab, and I could see the flash of each gun as it fired. By
  this time I had passed behind a belt of trees running along a
  roadside. I ran along this belt until level with the battery, when
  I turned full-right and engaged the battery in rear. On observing
  our appearance from the belt of trees, the gunners, some thirty
  in number, abandoned their guns and tried to get away. Gunner
  Ribbans and I accounted for the whole lot. I cruised forward,
  making a detour to the left, and shot a number of the enemy, who
  appeared to be demoralised, and were moving about the country in
  all directions. This detour brought me back to the railway siding
  N.N.W. of Guillaucourt. I could now see other Whippets coming up
  and a few Mark V.’s also. The Australian infantry, who followed
  magnificently, had now passed through the battery position which
  we had accounted for and were lying in a sunken road about 400
  yards past the battery and slightly to the left of it. I got out
  of my machine and went to an Australian full Lieutenant and asked
  if he wanted any help. Whilst talking to him, he received a bullet
  which struck the metal shoulder title, a piece of the bullet-casing
  entering his shoulder. While he was being dressed, Major Rycroft
  (horse) and Lieutenant Waterhouse (Tanks) and Captain Strachan of
  ‘B’ Company, 6th Battalion, arrived and received confirmation from
  the Australian officer of our having knocked out the field battery.
  I told Major Rycroft what we had done, and then moved off again at
  once, as it appeared to be unwise for four machines (Lieutenant
  Watkins had also arrived) to remain stationary at one spot. I
  proceeded parallel with the railway embankment in an easterly
  direction, passing through two cavalry patrols of about twelve
  men each. The first patrol was receiving casualties from a party
  of enemy in a field of corn. I dealt with this, killing three or
  four, the remainder escaping out of sight into the corn. Proceeding
  further east, I saw the second patrol pursuing six enemy. The
  leading horse was so tired that he was not gaining appreciably
  on the rearmost Hun. Some of the leading fugitives turned about
  and fired at the cavalryman when his sword was stretched out and
  practically touching the back of the last Hun. Horse and rider
  were brought down on the left of the road. The remainder of the
  cavalrymen deployed to right, coming in close under the railway
  embankment, where they dismounted and came under fire from the
  enemy, who had now taken up a position on the railway bridge, and
  were firing over the parapet, inflicting one or two casualties. I
  ran the machine up until we had a clear view of the bridge, and
  killed four of the enemy with one long burst, the other two running
  across the bridge and on down the opposite slope out of sight. On
  our left I could see, about three-quarters of a mile away, a train
  on fire being towed by an engine. I proceeded further east, still
  parallel to the railway, and approached carefully a small valley
  marked on my map as containing Boche hutments. As I entered the
  valley (between Bayonvillers and Harbonnières) at right angles,
  many enemy were visible packing kits and others retiring. On our
  opening fire on the nearest, many others appeared from huts, making
  for the end of the valley, their object being to get over the
  embankment and so out of our sight. We accounted for many of these.
  I cruised round, Ribbans went into one of the huts and returned,
  and we counted about sixty dead and wounded. There were evidences
  of shell-fire amongst the huts, but we certainly accounted for most
  of the casualties counted there. I turned left from the railway
  and cruised across country, as lines of enemy infantry could be
  seen retiring. We fired at these many times at ranges of 200 yards
  to 600 yards. These targets were fleeting, owing to the enemy
  getting down into the corn when fired on. In spite of this, many
  casualties must have been inflicted, as we cruised up and down for
  at least an hour. I did not see any more of our troops or machines
  after leaving the cavalry patrols already referred to. During the
  cruising, being the only machine to get through, we invariably
  received intense rifle and machine-gun fire. I would here beg to
  suggest that no petrol be carried on the outside of the machine,
  as under orders we were carrying nine tins of petrol on the roof,
  for refilling purposes when well into the enemy lines (should
  opportunity occur). The perforated tins allowed the petrol to run
  all over the cab. These fumes, combined with the intense bullet
  splash and the great heat after being in action (by this time) nine
  to ten hours, made it necessary at this point to breathe through
  the mouth-piece of the box respirator, without actually wearing the
  mask.

  [Illustration: MOVING UP. BATTLE OF AMIENS]

  [Illustration: THE ARMOURED CARS GOING UP]

  “At 2 p.m. or thereabouts I again proceeded east, parallel to
  the railway and about 100 yards north of it. I could see a large
  aerodrome and also an observation balloon at a height of about 200
  ft. I could also see great quantities of motor and horse transport
  moving in all directions. Over the top of another ridge on my left
  I could see the cover of a lorry coming in my direction; I moved
  up out of sight and waited until he topped the bridge, when I shot
  the driver. The lorry ran into a right-hand ditch. The railway
  had now come out of the cutting in which it had rested all the
  while, and I could see both sides of it. I could see a long line of
  men retiring on both sides of the railway, and fired at these at
  ranges of 400 to 500 yards, inflicting heavy casualties. I passed
  through these and also accounted for one horse and the driver of
  a two-horse canvas-covered wagon on the far side of the railway.
  We now crossed a small road which crossed the main railway, and
  came in view of large horse and wagon lines--which ran across the
  railway and close to it. Gunner Ribbans (R.H. gun) here had a view
  of south side of railway and fired continuously into motor and
  horse transport moving on three roads (one north and south, one
  almost parallel to the railway, and one diagonally between these
  two). I fired many bursts at 600 to 800 yards at transport blocking
  roads on my left, causing great confusion. Rifle and machine-gun
  fire was not heavy at this time, owing to our sudden appearance, as
  the roads were all banked up in order to cross the railway. There
  were about twelve men in the middle aisle of these lines. I fired
  a long burst at these. Some went down and others got in amongst
  the wheels and undergrowth. I turned quarter-left towards a small
  copse, where there were more horses and men, about 200 yards away.
  On the way across we met the most intense rifle and machine-gun
  fire imaginable from all sides. When at all possible, we returned
  the fire, until the L.H. revolver port cover was shot away. I
  withdrew the forward gun, locked the mounting and held the body of
  the gun against the hole. Petrol was still running down the inside
  of the back door. Fumes and heat combined were very bad. We were
  still moving forward and I was shouting to Driver Carney to turn
  about, as it was impossible to continue the action, when two heavy
  concussions closely followed one another and the cab burst into
  flames. Carney and Ribbans got to the door and collapsed. I was
  almost overcome, but managed to get the door open and fell out on
  to the ground, and was able to drag out the other two men. Burning
  petrol was running on to the ground where we were lying. The fresh
  air revived us, and we all got up and made a short rush to get away
  from the burning petrol. We were all on fire. In this rush Carney
  was shot in the stomach and killed. We rolled over and over to try
  to extinguish the fumes. I saw numbers of the enemy approaching
  from all round. The first arrival came for me with a rifle and
  bayonet. I got hold of this, and the point of the bayonet entered
  my right forearm. The second man struck at my head with the butt
  end of his rifle, hit my shoulder and neck, and knocked me down.
  When I came to, there were dozens all round me, and any one who
  could reach me did so and I was well kicked. They were furious.
  Ribbans and I were taken away and stood by ourselves about
  twenty yards clear of the crowd. An argument ensued, and we were
  eventually marched to a dug-out where paper bandages were put on
  our hands. Our faces were left as they were. We were then marched
  down the road to the main railway. There we joined a party of about
  eight enemy, and marched past a field kitchen, where I made signs
  for food. We had had nothing since 8.30 p.m. on the night previous
  to the action, and it was 3.30 p.m. when we were set on fire. We
  went on to a village where, on my intelligence map, a Divisional
  Headquarters had been marked. An elderly stout officer interrogated
  me, asking if I was an officer. I said ‘Yes.’ He then asked various
  other questions, to which I replied, ‘I do not know.’ He said, ‘Do
  you mean you do not know or you will not tell me?’ I said, ‘You can
  take it whichever way you wish.’ He then struck me in the face,
  and went away. We went on to Chaulone to a canvas hospital, on the
  right side of the railway, where I was injected with anti-tetanus.
  Later I was again interrogated, with the same result as above,
  except that instead of being struck, I received five days’ solitary
  confinement in a room with no window, and only a small piece of
  bread and a bowl of soup each day. On the fifth day I was again
  interrogated, and said the same as before. I said that he had no
  right to give me solitary confinement, and that unless I were
  released, I should, at first opportunity, report him to the highest
  possible authority. The next day I was sent away, and eventually
  reached the camp at Freiburg, when I found my brother, Captain
  A. E. Arnold, M.C., Tank Corps. The conduct of Gunner Ribbans and
  Driver Carney was beyond all praise throughout. Driver Carney drove
  from Villers-Bretonneux onwards.

                              “(_Signed_) C. B. ARNOLD, Lieut.,
                                        “6th Tank Battalion.

  “_January 1, 1919._”

The Tank was found close to the small railway on the eastern side of
the Harbonnières-Rosières Road.


VI

The final stage of the day’s battle had been reached by early afternoon.

The armoured cars, moving rapidly east along the main roads, did much
to complete the demoralisation of the enemy.

  [76]“The enemy, once in retreat, became completely demoralised. One
  heard from the commanders of the armoured cars which were returning
  on the main Villers-Bretonneux road, how they chased excited German
  Staff cars and officers through the ruined village of Faucourt, and
  eventually had been held up, because the enemy’s traffic was so
  congested on the roads behind his lines that they could penetrate
  no further. The Air Force were then reported to have completed this
  confusion, by obtaining some excellent results in flying low over
  these roads....

  “The cars which had turned northwards entered Proyart and
  Chuignolles, two moving up to the river Somme. At Proyart the
  cars found the German troops at dinner; these they shot down and
  scattered in all directions, and then moving westwards met masses
  of the enemy driven from their trenches by the Australians. In
  order to surprise these men who were moving eastwards, the cars
  hid in the outskirts of Proyart and only advanced when the enemy
  was between fifty and one hundred yards distant, when they moved
  forward, rapidly shooting down great numbers. Scattering from
  before the cars at Proyart, the enemy made across country towards
  Chuignolles, only to be met by the cars which had proceeded to
  this village, and they were once again fired on and dispersed.
  Near Chuignolles one armoured car obtained ‘running practice’ with
  its machine-guns at a lorry full of troops, and kept up fire until
  the lorry ran into the ditch. There were also several cases of
  armoured cars following German transport vehicles, without anything
  unusual being suspected, until fire was opened at point-blank range.

  “Although more than half the cars were out of action by the evening
  of the 8th, there were no casualties amongst their personnel
  sufficiently serious to require evacuation.”

The Mark V. star Tanks successfully reached the day’s final objective
and delivered their infantry machine-gunners on the line which was to
be the limit of our advance.

That they were duly “delivered” is, however, about as much as can be
said of many of these unfortunates.

The motion, the heat, and the fumes of the inside of a Tank closed for
action, almost invariably proved too much for all but the Tank’s own
well-salted crew.

Consequently where little fire had been met with, the machine-gunners
had come up either riding or walking behind it.

Where the fire had been heavy and they had been sternly ordered in and
the Tank closed up, they had been delivered flushed, feverish, and
either vomiting or extremely faint and quite unfit for duty until they
had been given at least a couple of hours’ rest.

The Australian Corps and their Tanks had alone taken about 7900
prisoners, and our total captures amounted to over 13,000 prisoners,
and more than 300 guns, besides all kinds of stores and ammunition.
Along the eleven miles of attack we had advanced to a depth of nearly
seven miles, and (except Le Quesnoy, which we captured before dawn on
the 9th) the whole of the outer defences of Amiens had been taken. The
armoured cars and some of the cavalry had, as we have seen, been in
action far beyond. It was north of the Somme that our advance had been
most hotly contested, but even here we had pushed forward considerably
and the enemy’s casualties had been particularly heavy.

The Paris-Amiens railway was completely disengaged, and the Despatch
characterises the first day’s fighting as a “sweeping success.”


VII

All night, to the east beyond the limit of our advance, we could hear
the enemy blowing up his ammunition dumps.

All night his transport and limbers streamed eastwards, and all night
our airmen hung upon his retreating columns.

Next morning we attacked again along the whole line, no less than 155
Tanks being actually engaged.

The Australians advanced upon Lihons, Framerville and Vauxvillers,
while on their right the Canadians continued the attack south of the
Amiens-Chaulnes railway.

In the attack on Framerville, out of thirteen Tanks engaged, only one
was hit.

This fact was attributable to the admirable co-operation between the
infantry and Tanks.

  [77]“Riflemen working hand in hand with the machines picking
  off the enemy’s field gunners, as soon as the Tanks came into
  observation. At Vauxvillers, seven Tanks went into action just
  before noon, unaccompanied by infantry and without artillery
  support. After the Tanks had gone forward a little way, the 5th
  Australian Division followed up and not only captured the high
  ground, but the village itself, which was not included in their
  original objective.”

Near Rosières the opposition stiffened, and here no less than eight
Tanks were knocked out by a German battery which came into action near
Lihons. It was not until 5 p.m. that this battery was silenced, and we
did not reach Lihons that night.

  [78]“The day’s operations were especially interesting through
  the rapidity with which the enemy got his field batteries into
  action from commanding positions against Tanks advancing in broad
  daylight. He also employed a number of low-flying aeroplanes
  against the infantry, but as these did not carry bombs their fire
  had no effect upon the Tanks. The resistance put up by his riflemen
  and machine-gunners was feeble, and showed clearly the moral effect
  of the victorious advance of the previous day.”

With the Canadians as many Tanks as possible were rallied and about
fifty-five went into action. They went forward, as before, in waves,
the same Tank Battalions working with the same Infantry Divisions as on
the previous day.

North of the Somme, with the 3rd Corps (which included the 33rd
American Division) the 10th Tank Battalion put sixteen Tanks into
action.

They had a hard task round Chipilly, where the enemy had a large number
of machine-guns cleverly concealed in woods and gullies. By the early
evening, however, all the objectives were taken, and our positions
advanced in line with those which we held south of the river, an
advance achieved at a cost of five casualties to the sixteen machines
engaged.

The Whippets’ action, in as far as they were billed to act with the
cavalry, was disappointing. By some fault of liaison they were kept too
long at Brigade Headquarters.

At Beaufort and Warvillers, however, they were able to give great help
to the infantry by chasing hostile machine-gunners out of the standing
corn and shooting them down as they fled.

On the whole August 9th was a successful day, for we continued to push
forward steadily all along our line.


VIII

We had, in fact, pushed forward so far that all along the line during
the next day’s fighting we reached the old trench systems of the First
Battle of the Somme. And it was this fact, combined with the usual
and inevitable petering out of all attacks which are not supported by
immense reserves, that now slowed our rate of advance down to nothing.
Two days later we left off hammering.

The 10th proved an unfortunate day for the Tanks, for though we
advanced, the eighty-five Tanks engaged suffered heavily in every
sector.

With the Canadians, owing to orders having been issued late, the hour
of attack had to be altered, and it finally took place in daylight
without smoke.

A stubborn resistance was encountered, and of the forty-three Tanks
engaged no less than twenty-three received direct hits.

Before Warvillers the cavalry and Whippets had a particularly poor time
of it, the old trench systems and the old shelled area, of which the
enemy had taken ingenious and thorough advantage, proving too much for
both arms.

With the Australians a rather remarkable night attack was arranged.

During the three previous days’ fighting it had been found very
inconvenient to have the Somme Valley as an inter-corps boundary, and
General Monash was allowed to extend his territory northward in such a
way that the Australians should hold both sides of the valley.

An encircling movement was, therefore, undertaken, of which Captain
Denny, M.C., M.P., gives the following account in his article on the
work of the Australians which appeared in the _Daily Telegraph_ of
April 1919:

  “The 3rd and 4th Australian Divisions were ordered to carry out
  an encircling operation on the night of August 10–11 in order to
  cut off the Etinehem spur north of the Somme and the ridge east of
  Proyart, south of the Somme. The general lines of the operation
  both to the north and the south of the river were similar. Columns
  were to move along defined roads leaving the objectives well to
  the flanks, and then encircle the enemy positions. Each column was
  accompanied by Tanks, and was to move in an easterly direction, and
  then to wheel inwards towards the Somme. It was recognised that
  this action involved certain risks, as Tanks had never been tried
  by night in this way, but in view of the condition of the enemy’s
  _moral_ at this stage it was considered that the effect of the
  advance of the Tanks and infantry would lead immediately to the
  collapse of the defence.

  “The action north of the river was entirely successful. South of
  the river the enemy bombed the forward area heavily early in the
  night, causing considerable delay in the preparations for the
  attack. Progress was at first slow owing to heavy enemy artillery
  and machine-gun fire and the disorganisation caused by the bombing.
  Two of the Tanks allotted for the operations were destroyed or put
  out of action very soon after zero hour.”

Almost from the outset of the attack heavy enemy machine-gun fire was
encountered from the large enemy dump by the side of the main road.
Tanks were unable in the dark to locate these machine-guns, and could
not do much to assist the infantry. It was therefore decided to abandon
the operation and withdraw the infantry under cover of unaimed fire
from the Tanks, who were themselves recalled when the infantry had got
clear away.

It was not till the evening of August 12 that Tanks and infantry were
able to advance in this sector, and that we gained the positions east
of Proyart.

By August 11 the Tank Corps reserves were used up, and the Tanks and
their crews were almost fought to a standstill. They had had three
days of continuous fighting and marching, and of the thirty-eight
Tanks which went into action on the 11th there was not one but badly
needed overhauling. The crews were completely exhausted. We have
already described the conditions under which the men fought in the
Mark V. Tank, and how after an average of three hours in a closed Tank
whose guns are in action, all men begin to suffer from severe headache
and giddiness, and most from sickness, a high temperature and heart
disturbance.

After the Battle of Amiens the crews of most of the surviving Tanks
had fought for three days, not three hours, and 50 per cent. of them
were on the verge of collapse. However, as we have said, thirty-eight
machines and crews were scraped together, and on August 11 ten Tanks of
the 2nd Battalion helped in the taking of Lihons by the Australians.
These Tanks had an approach march of eight miles before they reached
their jumping-off places.

With the Canadians, Tanks attacked Domeny and twice entered the
village, but the 4th Canadian Division could not get forward to
consolidate, owing to lack of support on the right.

On the 12th, while six Tanks were still thrashing out the Proyart
affair north of the Somme, the 4th and 5th Brigades were withdrawn, to
be followed next day by the remainder of the Tanks.


IX

We called a halt, and the Battle of Amiens was at an end, for it was
again at last the Allies who chose the time and the place where they
would offer battle.

Commanders who had the bitter taste of the forced actions of the
March retreat in their mouths, must have savoured this easy choice
extraordinarily. There is something thrilling in the assured words of
the Despatch. We did not care for the new battle site! We would change
it and fight elsewhere!

  “The derelict battle area which now lay before our troops, seared
  by old trench lines, pitted with shell-holes, and crossed in all
  directions with tangled belts of wire, the whole covered by the
  wild vegetation of two years, presented unrivalled opportunities
  for stubborn machine-gun defences....

  “I therefore determined to break off the battle on this front, and
  transferred the front of attack from the 4th Army to the sector
  north of the Somme, where an attack seemed unexpected by the enemy.
  My intention was for the 3rd Army to operate in the direction of
  Bapaume so as to turn the line of the old Somme defences from the
  north.”

We struck at once. Only four days were given to the Tanks for
overhauling machines and patching up the crews, for on August 21 we
opened the new battle.

Meanwhile it was hard to realise how great was the moral and physical
blow which we had dealt the Germans. The July attacks had been
tentative, but the Battle of Amiens was the decisive victory, the sure
proof that the Germans had lost all hope of winning the War by force of
arms.

But at the time we could not read the thundering sign of our
deliverance with certainty. We could see only what were the more
immediate results of the battle.

  [79]“Within the space of five days the town of Amiens and the
  railway centring upon it had been disengaged. Twenty German
  Divisions had been heavily defeated by thirteen British Infantry
  Divisions and three Cavalry Divisions, assisted by a regiment of
  the 33rd American Division and supported by some 400 Tanks. Nearly
  22,000 prisoners and over 400 guns had been taken by us, and our
  line had been pushed forward to a depth of some twelve miles in a
  vital sector. Further, our deep advance, combined with the attacks
  of the French Armies on our right, had compelled the enemy to
  evacuate hurriedly a wide extent of territory to the south of us.

  “The effect of this victory--following so closely after the Allied
  victory on the Marne--upon the _moral_ both of the German and
  British troops was very great. Buoyed up by the hope of immediate
  and decisive victory, to be followed by an early and favourable
  peace, constantly assured that the Allied reserves were exhausted,
  the German soldiery suddenly found themselves attacked on two
  fronts and thrown back with heavy losses from large and important
  portions of their earlier gains. The reaction was inevitable and of
  a deep and lasting character.

  “On the other hand, our own troops felt that at last their
  opportunity had come, and that, supported by a superior artillery
  and numerous Tanks they could now press forward resolutely to reap
  the reward of their patient, dauntless, and successful defence in
  March and April.”

We knew, however, that we had still hard fighting before us, and we
were careful to analyse every phase of the action to see if we could
not learn some practical lesson from it that should help us in the
coming months.

The Tank Command noted several points “for reference.” In the first
place, the battle would have been ended the quicker if the Tanks had
had a larger general reserve.

Then neither the Mark V. nor the Whippet was fast enough for open
warfare.

Had we then possessed machines such as we have now,[80] of double the
speed of the Mark V., and having a radius of action of 100 miles and
more, we should, at a modest estimate, have finished the battle on the
first day.

Last, we had not used our Whippets to the best advantage.

The 3rd (Light) Brigade Commander, Brig.-General Hardress-Lloyd,
thus admirably summarised the lessons of the battle, and laid down
alternative principles upon which the light machines might be used:

  “I do not think it advisable to attempt to use the present Whippet
  in conjunction with cavalry. Better results would have been
  obtained during these operations if Whippets had been working in
  close liaison with Mark V. Tanks and infantry.

  “The Whippet is not fast enough to conform to cavalry tactics in
  the early stages of a battle.

  “The Whippets’ rôle should be to push on amongst the retreating
  enemy and prevent him from reorganising, engage reinforcements
  coming up, eventually enabling the infantry to make a further
  advance, capture prisoners, guns, etc.

  “... They must move forward in close touch with the heavy Tanks so
  as to be near enough up to go though when required. If kept back
  with the cavalry the speed of the Whippet is not sufficient to
  enable the machine to be in the forward position at the required
  moment, and its offensive power will be seriously diminished.”

But it was not for us that the battle of August 8 had its chief lessons.

The German High Command waxed eloquent with indignant exhortation, and
demanded passionately that the experiences of the German Army should be
utilised, and that such things as had occurred on the 8th should never
happen again.

On August 11 General Ludendorff issued a secret Order:

  “Troops allowed themselves to be surprised by a mass attack of
  Tanks, and lost all cohesion when the Tanks suddenly appeared
  behind them, having broken through under cover of a mist, natural
  and artificial. The defensive organisation, both of the first
  line and in the rear, was insufficient to permit of a systematic
  defence.... As a weapon against Tanks, the prepared defence of the
  ground must play a larger part than ever, and the aversion of the
  men to the pick and shovel must be overcome at all hazards....
  Especially there must be defences against Tanks. It was absolutely
  inadmissible that the Tanks, having penetrated into our advance
  line without meeting with obstacles or anything, should be able
  to push on along the roads or beside them for miles.... The
  principle that a body of troops even when surrounded must defend
  their ground, unless otherwise ordered, to the last man and the
  last cartridge, seems to have fallen into oblivion ... a large
  proportion of our ranks fight unskilfully against Tanks. A Tank is
  an easy prey for artillery of all calibres....”

An account follows of measures for the proper disposition of artillery
against Tanks, and the rest of the Order is occupied with directions
to the infantry concerning the question at what range the anti-Tank
rifle and gun are most effective. The consideration of these points is
long and exhaustive. Ludendorff further hopes much from “the active and
inventive genius of the lower ranks of the non-commissioned officers
to arrange Tank traps, and demands that every encouragement should be
shown to those who show any inventive talent.”

These were but peddling remedies. When, as at Amiens, the understanding
between infantry and Tanks is almost perfect, and when the magnificent
_élan_ of an assault by Australians and Canadians is supported by the
weight of 400 Tanks, not even the troops of what was the best-trained
Army in the world can stand the concerted shock of their attack.

A Special Order was issued on August 16 by General Sir Henry Rawlinson,
the 4th Army Commander:

  “_Tank Corps._--The success of the operations of August 8 and
  succeeding days was largely due to the conspicuous part played by
  the 3rd, 4th and 5th Brigades of the Tank Corps, and I desire to
  place on record my sincere appreciation of the invaluable services
  rendered both by the Mark V. and the Mark V. star and the Whippets.

  “The task of secretly assembling so large a number of Tanks
  entailed very hard and continuous work by all concerned for four or
  five nights previous to the battle.

  “The tactical handling of the Tanks in action made calls on the
  skill and physical endurance of the detachments which were met
  with a gallantry and devotion beyond all praise.

  “I desire to place on record my appreciation of the splendid
  success that they achieved, and to heartily congratulate the Tank
  Corps as a whole on the completeness of their arrangements and the
  admirable prowess exhibited by all ranks actually engaged on this
  occasion. There are many vitally important lessons to be learned
  from their experiences. These will, I trust, be taken to heart by
  all concerned and made full use of when next the Tank Corps is
  called upon to go into battle.

  “The part played by the Tanks and Whippets in the battle on August
  8 was in all respects a very fine performance.

                              “(_Signed_) H. RAWLINSON, _General_,
                                        “Commanding 4th Army.

  “Headquarters, 4th Army,
    “_August 16, 1918_.”

Nor were the Australians less generous.

The following message is typical of many. It was sent to Brig.-General
Courage (commanding 5th Tank Brigade) by the 4th Australian Divisional
Commander:

  “G.O.C. 5th Tank Brigade.

  “I wish to express to you and the command associated with us on
  August 8 and following days, on behalf of the 4th Australian
  Division, our deep appreciation of the most gallant service
  rendered during our offensive operations by the Tank Corps. The
  consistent skill and gallantry with which the Tanks, individually
  and collectively, were handled during the battle, was the
  admiration of all ranks of the infantry with whom they were so
  intimately associated, and our success was due in a very large
  measure to your efforts.

  “We hope sincerely, that in future offensive operations in which we
  may take part, we shall have the honour to be associated with the
  same units of the Tank Corps as during the operations on August 8
  and following days.

                          “(_Signed_) E. G. SINCLAIR MCLAGAN,
                                        “Major-General,
                              “Commanding 4th Australian Division.”

Finally, in a congratulatory telegram after the battle, the
Commander-in-Chief paid a high tribute to the skill and bravery
displayed by the Tank Corps in the gaining of this signal victory.




CHAPTER XVIII

THE GERMAN ATTITUDE--“MAN-TRAPS AND GINS”--THE BATTLE OF BAPAUME


I

We had, as we have said, called a halt to the Battle of Amiens.

But the pause was to be only one of a few days.

The new battle was to be fought in the area which lay between the
rivers Somme and Scarpe, and for his selection of this particular place
Sir Douglas Haig in his Despatch gives two reasons.

  “The enemy did not seem prepared to meet an attack in this
  direction, and, owing to the success of the Fourth Army, he
  occupied a salient, the left flank of which was already threatened
  from the south. A further reason for my decision was that the
  ground north of the Ancre River was not greatly damaged by
  shell-fire, and was suitable for the use of Tanks. A successful
  attack between Albert and Arras in a south-easterly direction would
  turn the line of the Somme south of Péronne, and gave every promise
  of producing far-reaching results. It would be a step forward
  towards the strategic objective St. Quentin-Cambrai.”

It is interesting to see how high a place Tanks now held in the
estimation of the General Staff, and how carefully their peculiarities
were considered.

But it was not only the British High Command which had begun to busy
itself with the natural history of the Tank.

Since the lesser battles of July and the greater battle of August 8,
the attitude of the German G.H.Q. had entirely changed.

When we first began to use Tanks it will be remembered that the
Germans, though perfunctorily alluding to them as “cruel and
detestable,” had in effect sneered at them as makeshifts by which we
hoped to supplement our scanty supply of more legitimate munitions of
war.

Besides, their contempt for all we did being sincere, the Tanks’
British parentage damned them without further investigation.

“Search and see, for out of Galilee cometh no good thing.”

The Germans themselves made their attitude perfectly clear.

  “The use of 300 British Tanks at Cambrai (1917) was a ‘battle of
  material,’ and the German Higher Command decided from the very
  outset _not_ to fight a ‘battle of material.’”

Their policy was masses of men rather than mechanism, quantity rather
than quality.

The best men went to machine-gun units and to assault troops. In many
cases the remainder of the infantry were of little fighting value,
though many of the men might have been otherwise usefully employed in a
war which, if not one of material, was at least one in which economic
factors played a large part.

The German Higher Command was able, however, to look at an order of
battle, showing some 250 Divisions on paper.

But the Germans were thus naturally not in a position to find the
labour for the construction of additional material, such as Tanks; they
were, besides, concentrating any labour and any suitable material they
possessed upon the work of submarine making.

It seems clear that the whole policy, at least as far as Tanks was
concerned, was regretted before the end of the War.

The following now well known extracts from German documents indicate
the effect of our Tanks on the German Army:

“Staff officers sent from G.H.Q. report that the reasons for the defeat
of the Second Army[81] are as follows:

“1. The fact that the troops were surprised by the massed attack of
Tanks, and lost their heads when the Tanks suddenly appeared behind
them, having broken through under cover of natural and artificial fog.

“2. Lack of organised defences.

“3. The fact that the artillery allotted to reserve infantry units at
the disposal of the Higher Command was wholly insufficient to establish
fresh resistance with artillery support against the enemy who had
broken through and against his Tanks.

                              “LUDENDORFF, 11. 8. 18.”

                              “_Crown Prince’s Group of Armies._
                                        “12. 8. 18.

  “G.H.Q. reports that during the recent fighting on the fronts of
  the 2nd and 18th Armies, large numbers of Tanks broke through
  on narrow fronts and pushing straight forward, rapidly attacked
  battery positions and the headquarters of divisions.

  “In many cases no defence could be made in time against the Tanks,
  which attacked them from all sides.

  “Anti-Tank defence must now be developed to deal with such
  situations.”

  Signal Communication--

  “Messages concerning Tanks will have priority over all other
  messages or calls whatsoever.”

                              “Order dated 8. 9. 18.”


II

The first efforts at combating Tanks made by the German High Command
were half contemptuously instituted chiefly to reassure their infantry,
who seemed to them, for no particular reason, liable to extraordinary
fits of nerves and panic upon the approach of their new assailants.

The measures of defence were ill devised and carelessly used.

In the autumn of 1917, it will be remembered that the Germans had
captured a number of our Mark IV. machines.

These they used for the purposes of propaganda, parading them in
the streets of Berlin and showing them to the Army, as a man might
demonstrate the harmless nature of snakes by the aid of a tame cobra.

The infantry were lectured to about the miseries endured by the crews
who manned Tanks, as to their mechanical defects, their vulnerability
and general worthlessness. For example, the following passage appeared
in an Order issued to the 7th German Cavalry Division. It will be
gathered from the text that the Order was illustrated by detailed
drawings.

  “7th Cavalry ‘Schützen’ Div. Div. H.Q. 26.9.18.

  “Subject:--Anti-Tank Defence.

  “_Divisional Order_

  “1. _General._

  “The infantry must not let itself be frightened by Tanks. The
  fighting capacity of the Tank is small owing to the bad visibility,
  and the shooting of the machine-guns and guns is cramped and
  inaccurate as the result of the motion.

  “It has been proved that the Tank crews are nervous and are
  inclined to turn back, or leave the Tank, even in the case of
  limited fire effects, such as a light T.M. (Trench Mortar) barrage
  at 800–1000 yards. In order to make it more difficult for the
  artillery, the Tanks pursue a zigzag course towards their objective.

  “The hostile infantry follows Tanks only half-heartedly. Experience
  shows that hostile attacks are soon checked by aimed machine-gun
  and artillery fire. Co-operation between the Tanks and their
  infantry detachments must be hindered as much as possible. The
  arms should be separated and destroyed in detail. All projectiles
  which do not hit the armour-plating at right angles ricochet
  off instead of penetrating. Artillery, light trench mortar and
  anti-Tank rifle fire is effective against all portions of the Tank,
  especially against the broadside and the cab (framed in red in
  the illustrations). Machine-gun and rifle fire with A.P. bullets,
  on the other hand, should be aimed especially at the observation
  and machine-gun loopholes (framed in green and blue in the
  illustrations).”

But the enemy was not content with a merely dialectical defence. Among
other practical measures the Germans, with curious inconsequence,
decided to form a small Tank Corps of their own, partly armed with new
Tanks of German manufacture and partly with captured British machines.

But here a little unexpected awkwardness arose. The infantry from whom
they now wished to recruit their Tank crews, had unfortunately been
completely convinced by the unanswerable arguments which they had just
heard, and now thoroughly believed in the perfect uselessness, the
extreme vulnerability, of Tanks.

Thus it came about that the German Tank Corps was made up of a quite
astonishingly reluctant and half-hearted body of men. Altogether, only
fifteen German Tanks were ever manufactured, and only twenty-five
captured British Mark IV. Tanks were repaired, so that the whole affair
amounted to but little.

The German Tanks were, as we have said, much heavier and larger than
the British or French heavy Tanks, though, as we have noted, they
rather resembled the French St. Chamond. They could not cross large
trenches or heavily shelled ground, owing to their shape, and the lack
of clearance between the ground and the body. On smooth ground, their
speed was good--being about eight miles an hour.

Their armour was thick and tough, capable of withstanding
armour-piercing bullets, and, at a long range, even direct hits from
field guns not firing armour-piercing shells. Only the front of the
Tank was, however, sufficiently strong for this, and the roof was
scarcely armoured at all.

They were very vulnerable to the splash of ordinary small arms
ammunition, owing to the numerous crevices and joints left in the
armour-plate.

The most interesting feature of these otherwise exceedingly bad
machines was the fact that they ran on a spring track. The use of
springs for so heavy a Tank was the one progressive departure in the
German design.

Their crew consisted of an officer and no less than fifteen other
ranks. This huge crew, twice that of a heavy British Tank, actually
went into action in a Tank 24 feet long by 10 feet wide. However,
the close association of the crew was merely physical, for they were
composed of no less than three distinct arms, and appear to have done
little or no training together as a crew.

There were the drivers who were mechanics, there were the gunners
who were artillerymen, and the machine-gunners who were infantrymen.
Members of the British Tank Corps were at one time much puzzled by
German Tank prisoners’ statements, that on such or such an occasion
the infantry had spoiled their shooting, or that the artillery had not
backed them up, in circumstances when there was no particular question
of co-operation with other arms. They came afterwards to understand
that the anathema’d representatives of rival arms were inside the
machine, not out.

But in reality rival machines constituted but a small part of the
German anti-Tank measures, for, as we have said, after the victories
of July and early August, these begin to be panic-stricken in their
elaboration, and after the Battle of Amiens, we find Ludendorff himself
pouring out his soul on the subject.

He obviously realised that anti-Tank defences had been neglected, and
he probably saw also that this neglect was going to be difficult to
explain to an Army and a public which, as the result of failures, were
about to become extremely critical of their leaders.

After the Battle of Amiens, therefore, the Germans began feverishly to
set their house in order, and we find special Staff Officers appointed
at the Army, Corps, Divisional and Brigade Headquarters, whose sole
duty it was to organise the anti-Tank defences within their formation.

A special artillery was told off and divided into two sections. The
first was to provide a few forward silent guns in each divisional
sector. They were to remain hidden till the moment of our attack, and
then to concentrate upon our Tanks. These guns, however, proved apt
to be smothered by our barrage, or not to be able to distinguish their
prey in the half-light of our dawn attacks. Secondly, there were to be
reserve guns whose duty it was to go forward and take up previously
reconnoitred positions after the Tank attack had been launched. It was
generally from these pieces that the Tanks had most to fear. Finally,
all German batteries, including howitzers, had general instructions
to plan their positions in such a way that advancing Tanks would be
subject to a direct fire at about 500 or 600 yards range. In the event
of a Tank attack, the engagement of our machines was now to be the
first call upon the artillery, to the exclusion of counter-battery or
any other work. As for the infantry, the chief rôle allotted to them
was “to keep their heads,” and “to keep calm.” Other Orders instructed
them to move to a flank in the event of a Tank attack. “No advice was
given, however, as to how this was to be done when Tanks were attacking
on a frontage of twenty or thirty miles.”

A large armoury of special anti-Tank weapons arose, and of these the
most important was the anti-Tank rifle, of which we have spoken before.

  [82] “The weapon weighed 36 lb. and was 5½ feet long. It had no
  magazine and fired single shots, using A.P. ammunition of .530
  calibre. It was obviously too conspicuous and too slow a weapon
  to be really effective against Tanks, though the steel core could
  penetrate the armour of British Tanks at several hundred yards
  range.

  “The chief disadvantage of the anti-Tank rifle, however, was that
  the German soldier would not use it. He was untrained in its use,
  afraid of its kick, and still more afraid of the Tanks themselves.
  It is doubtful if one per cent. of the A.T. rifles captured in our
  Tank attacks had ever been fired.”

Road obstacles, such as carts full of stones, linked up with wire
cables, concrete stockades and mines, provided a good deal of the
rest of the enemy anti-Tank stock-in-trade. Of mines there was a
considerable variety. They ranged from elaborate specially made pieces
of apparatus to high explosive shells, buried and hastily fitted with a
device by which the weight of the Tank exploded them.

They were sometimes buried in lines across roads, and sometimes
extensive minefields were laid. Their singular ineffectiveness always
seemed somewhat mysterious to members of the Tank Corps, the proportion
of effort to result seeming always many tons of mine to each Tank
damaged.

However, we always thought we might some day encounter a really
effective type of mine, and possibly the Germans were satisfied if
their efforts so much as made our monsters walk delicately, for
in an elaborate document, giving every kind of anti-Tank defence
instructions, they somewhat pathetically conclude: “Every obstacle,
even if it only checks the hostile Tank temporarily, is of value.”

But there was one form of weapon which was, we felt sure, bound to be
evolved by the Germans. It was one which we were not at all anxious
to encounter. We imagined a weapon which should practically be the
machine-gun version of the anti-Tank rifle; that is to say, a weapon
which could pour out a stream of high-velocity, large-calibre bullets
at the rate of two hundred a minute. Actually it was almost precisely
such an engine that the Germans had got in their “Tuf” machine-gun, of
which an interesting account is given in _Weekly Tank Notes_.

The name was an abbreviation for “_Tank und Flieger_” (tank and
aeroplane), for it was against these enemies that this machine-gun was
intended. It was to consist of no less than 250 pieces, which were
made by sixty different factories, of which the _Maschinen Fabrik
Augsburg Nürnberg_, was the only one entrusted with the assembling and
mounting. The projectile fired was to be 13 millimetres in diameter.
From experiments made with captured Tanks, the Germans ascertained
that these bullets could pierce steel plates of 30 millimetres in
thickness. No less than six thousand of these guns were to be in the
field by April 1919, and delivery was to begin early in the previous
December--just a month too late.

However, when the Armistice was signed, the firms were already in
possession of the greater part of the stores and raw material for the
manufacture of the guns, a quantity of which were by then well on the
way to completion. Immediately after the signing of the Armistice, all
the factories were instructed by telephone to continue manufacturing
the “Tuf,” and about November 20 they received confirmation in writing
of this order, and were instructed to keep on their workmen at all
costs. Our occupation of the left bank of the Rhine proved a serious
drawback to a continuation of the manufacture, as it completely
interrupted communication between several of the factories. The Pfaff
Works of Kaiserlautern (Palatinate) and the great Becker steel works of
Frefeld, which played an important part in the manufacture of the guns,
had to close down, both being on the left bank of the Rhine.

The Minister of War throughout the period of its manufacture asked for
daily and minute reports as to the progress of the “Tuf,” and it was
given priority over both submarines and aeroplanes. But once more, as
ever in all that concerned Tanks, the Germans were several months too
late. We were never destined to face this particular weapon with the
Mark V. The modern Tank fears it not at all.


III

Our chronicle has now reached the three last, and the decisive months
of the war.

It was a period of continuous fighting, in which a battle begun in
any particular sector would spread along the front on either hand,
until at last, by the middle of October, the whole line was in roaring
conflagration; and by the second week in November the blaze had swept
on almost to the borders of Germany, and the forces of the enemy had
withered and shrivelled before it.

At first we made a series of more or less set attacks. Then came the
break through the Hindenburg Line after the Second Battle of Cambrai,
and the hastily-organised running fights of October, which culminated
in the complete overthrow of German arms.

The whole period is at the moment of writing exceedingly difficult
to dissect and to classify into definite battles, it being usually a
matter of opinion when one engagement can be said to have ended and
another to have begun. The nomenclature even is still fluid. Take, for
example, the vast inchoate battle which raged from August 21 and 23
and culminated on September 2. It was fought by three separate armies.
There were at least three principle “Z” days, and the battle seems to
be indifferently known as the Battle of Bapaume, the Second Battle of
Arras, or even as the Battle of Amiens. Nor if the historian were to
attempt to name it by date would it be clearly more proper to call it
the Battle of August 23 or 21. There is a good deal to be said for the
German plan of christening their battles by some fancy name, or dubbing
them “Kaiserchlact” or “Clarence,” according to one’s taste. A campaign
of nameless battles is apt to defy Clio’s efforts at dissection and
tidy arrangement, and to defeat her longing to see a neat row of
actions dried, classified, and labelled in her _Hortus Siccus_.

We have indicated the changes which had taken place in the attitude
of our own and the German High Commands toward Tanks. Much had been
learnt by the Tank Corps themselves, and much had been regularised
and systematised in their methods. We find that by August, Tank Corps
preparation for a battle had been so completely reduced to a routine
that to attempt to chronicle the preparation for any of our set attacks
would be to make a mere _cento_, whose pieces might be culled from
particulars already recorded for Cambrai, for Hamel and for Amiens. We
therefore trust that the reader, without hearing any enumeration of
gallons of petrol, tons of grease, or acres of maps, will understand
that each of these “formal” battles was preceded by the usual herculean
tasks of preparation.


IV

The Battle of Bapaume was, as we have already said, to constitute a
sequel to the Battle of Amiens (August 8). On August 21 the 3rd Army
was to launch an attack to the north of the Ancre with the general
object of pushing the enemy back towards Bapaume. Meanwhile the 4th
Army was to continue its pressure on the enemy south of the river.
August 22 was to be a “slack” day and was to be used to get troops and
guns into position on the 3rd Army front. The principal attack was
to be delivered on the 23rd by the 3rd Army, and those divisions of
the 4th Army which lay to the north of the Somme, the rest of the 4th
Army fighting a covering action on the flank of the main operation.
Afterwards, if our efforts were successful, the whole of both Armies
were to press forward with their utmost vigour and exploit any
advantage we might have gained. If our success was such as to force the
enemy back from the high ground he held, thus securing our southern
flank, the 1st Army was further to make another attack immediately to
the north. This gradual extension of the front of assault was intended
to mislead the enemy as to where the main blow would fall and cause him
to throw in his reserves piecemeal.

A large number of Tanks were to be concentrated in the 3rd Army area.
They were to attack between Moyenneville and Bucquoy with the 4th and
6th Corps. With them the 1st and 2nd Brigades were to operate.

With the 4th Army the 3rd Corps was to attack on August 23, between
Bray and Albert, and the 4th Tank Brigade was to assist in this
assault. Then, with the portion of the 4th Army which operated south
of the Somme, namely, the Australians, the 5th Tank Brigade was as
usual to co-operate, their action also taking place on the 23rd. In the
course of the two days’ operations the 3rd, 6th, 7th, 14th, 15th, 11th,
12th, 10th and 17th Battalions were to be employed.

The total of 280 machines seems at first sight a curiously small
one, considering the number of battalions involved, but it must be
remembered that most units had been hotly in action at Amiens ten days
before, and that some battalions could not muster more than sixteen
fighting Tanks, pending repairs and a fresh issue of machines.

Supply Tanks and aeroplanes were to co-operate as usual, the latter
in greater strength than before; for just before the battle No. 73
Squadron, armed with Sopwith Camels, was attached to the Tank Corps, in
addition to No. 8 Squadron for counter-gun work.

One of the most prominent features of the whole sector of attack was
the Albert-Arras railway, which lay some distance behind the enemy’s
front line. It proved to have been carefully prepared for defence by
the enemy, being commanded at point-blank range by a large number of
field guns, which had been specially and secretly withdrawn from more
forward positions, and all the sections of the line where it would be
possible for the Tanks to cross--that is to say, the “neutral” portions
where the line was neither embanked nor in a cutting--were not only
carefully registered, but were blocked by concrete and iron anti-Tank
stockades.

The attack was to be opened at 4.55 a.m. on the 21st by the 4th and 6th
Corps and their Tanks.


V

The morning dawned in the inevitable white blanket of mist which now
always seemed to accompany our attacks. Till nearly 11 a.m. it was
impossible to see more than a few yards ahead, and it was with the
greatest difficulty that the Tanks kept their direction. If, however,
the mist was confusing to us, it was doubly so to the enemy. The
Germans were completely taken by surprise; we even found candles
still burning in the trenches when we crossed them, and papers and
equipments were scattered broadcast, bearing witness to a hurried
flight.

[Illustration: GERMAN ANTI-TANK GUNNERS

(FROM A PHOTOGRAPH FOUND ON A PRISONER)]

[Illustration: AN ANTI-TANK GUN IN A STEEL CUPOLA (VPRES)]

[Illustration: A CAPTURED GERMAN TANK]

[Illustration: A GERMAN ANTI-TANK RIFLE]

We carried the front line so easily that we soon realised we must be
up against a system of defence rather like that which the Germans
had adopted at Ypres. He was keeping his reserves well in rear of a
lightly-held outpost line, and, as we have said, unknown to us, his
guns had been withdrawn in such a way as to cover the railway.

The Armoured Cars and the Whippets both took an active part in the
attack on Bucquoy. At the entrance of the village a large crater had
been blown in the road over which the armoured cars were hauled, after
a smooth path had been beaten down across it by a Whippet. The cars
then sped on through the enemy’s lines, reaching Achiet-le-Petit ahead
of our infantry, and silenced a number of machine-guns. Two of the cars
received direct hits, one of them being burnt and completely destroyed.

During the attack on Courcelles, Captain Richard Annesley West of the
6th Battalion took charge of some infantry who had lost their bearings
in the dense fog. He gathered up all the scattered men he could find.
He was mounted, and in the course of the morning he had two horses shot
under him; but after the second horse had been shot he went on with his
work on foot. Having rallied the infantry, he continued his original
task of leading forward his Tanks, and our capture of Courcelles was
chiefly due to his individual initiative and gallantry. He was awarded
a bar to his D.S.O.

About eleven o’clock the greater number both of Mark V. Tanks and
Whippets had reached the line of the railway. A few leading Tanks
had even crossed it, when all in a moment the mist lifted with the
suddenness of a withdrawn curtain. A blazing sun appeared, and each
advancing Tank stood out clearly under its bright light. The German
artillery, which was covering the railway, immediately directed a
deadly fire on the Tanks, and each individual machine became the centre
of a zone of bullets and bursting shells. The infantry as they advanced
had to avoid these little whirlwinds of fire. It was at this time that
most of the thirty-seven Tanks which were hit by shells during the day
were accounted for.

It was a good day for the enemy from an anti-Tank point of view, such a
day indeed as they were never to repeat.

Second Lieutenant Hickson of the 3rd Tank Battalion was one of the
few who had got his Tank across the line just before the mist lifted.
As the sun came out he found himself right in front of the enemy’s
batteries at point-blank range. His Whippet was immediately hit,
but he managed to get his two men away in safety. The artillery and
machine-gun fire was extremely heavy, but without any thought of his
own safety, he at once went back on foot to warn a number of other
Tanks which were about to cross the railway at the same place. In this
he was successful and undoubtedly saved a large number of machines from
being knocked out. Later, though the spot was still under heavy fire,
he made several ineffectual efforts to salve his Tank.

The weather could hardly have done us a worse turn. Had the mist lasted
for half an hour longer the Tanks would have been able to overrun the
artillery positions without being seen. However, the lifting of the fog
at least enabled the aeroplanes attached to the Tanks to go up. The
counter-gun machines at once flew out to attack the hostile batteries,
and a good deal of execution was done.

All the rest of the day we fought under a blazing sun.

The German resistance was curiously patchy; here and there we
found every inch of our advance disputed, the machine-gunners and
artillerymen fighting their weapons till the last moment, and the
reserves launching small counter-attacks whenever opportunity offered.

Here and there large parties, a hundred and more strong, would
surrender before the Tanks had time to open fire.

The Tank crews,--especially of the Mark V.’s and the Whippets, whose
ventilation was less adequate than the old Mark IV.’s--suffered greatly
from the terrific heat.

In one or two instances the whole crew of a Mark V. seems to have
become unconscious through the appalling heat, the fumes from their
own engines, and the gas used by the enemy, the unconsciousness being
followed by temporarily complete loss of memory and extreme prostration.

Inside the Whippets, though the men fared slightly better, the lack of
ventilation was equally fatal to efficiency.

  [83]“The heat temporarily put several Whippets out of action as
  fighting weapons.

  “On a hot summer’s day one hour’s running with door closed renders
  a Whippet weaponless except for revolver fire.

  “The heat generated is so intense that it not only causes
  ammunition to swell so that it jams the gun, but actually in
  several cases caused rounds to explode inside the Tank.

  “Guns became too hot to hold, and in one case the temperature of
  the steering wheel became unbearable.”

But evening came at last, and with the darkness the two armies
disengaged.

We had suffered more casualties than we had quite bargained
for--chiefly owing to the accident of the mist--but upon the whole we
were well satisfied with the events of the day.

We had reached the general line of the railway practically along the
whole front of attack. We had captured Achiet-le-Petit and Longeast
Wood, Courcelles and Moyenneville. Most important of all, the
position we needed for the launching of our principal attack had been
successfully gained and we had taken over 2000 prisoners.




CHAPTER XIX

BREAKING THE DROCOURT-QUÉANT LINE--THE BATTLE OF EPEHY


I

We have said that August 22 had, in the original plan, been devoted
to consolidation and to the moving up of guns. Only the 3rd Corps
in the 4th Army area, with its twenty-four Tanks of the 4th and 5th
Battalions, launched an interim attack on the Bray-Albert front.

We gained all our objectives. The 18th Division crossed the river
Ancre, captured Albert by an enveloping movement from the south-east,
and our line between the Somme and the Ancre was now advanced well to
the east of the Bray-Albert road.

The left of the 4th Army was taken forward in conformity with the rest
of our line.

The way had now been cleared for what was really the main attack,
though it was not the attack in which the greatest number of Tanks were
employed.

The assault opened on August 23 by a series of attacks on the whole
of a thirty-three-mile front, that is to say, from our junction with
the French, north of Lihons, to the spot near Mercatel, where the
Hindenburg Line from Quéant and Bullecourt joined the old Arras-Vimy
defence of 1916.

The hundred Tanks which went into action on this day were nearly all
fresh machines which had not fought on the 21st.

They were distributed in groups along the fronts of both the 3rd and
4th Armies.

South of the Somme, with the Australians near Chuignolles, the largest
group of nearly sixty Tanks went into action. They were machines
belonging to the 2nd, 8th and 13th Battalions.

The enemy had withdrawn their anti-Tank guns to the top of the ridge,
which it was impossible for Tanks to climb except at one spot. Upon
this one crossing-place they had trained their guns, and here several
Tanks suffered direct hits.

We attacked as usual without a preliminary bombardment and met with a
desperate resistance, the German machine-gunners defending their posts
with extraordinary heroism, and often firing their guns till the very
moment when they and their weapons were crushed to the earth by an
attacking Tank.

A particularly interesting account of the action is given in the 13th
Battalion History--

  “It was soon evident that the enemy were prepared to make a stout
  resistance; there was no definite trench system, but nests of
  machine-guns were encountered in organised shell-holes almost from
  the start; while Saint Martin’s Wood and the gully to the east of
  this, Herleville Wood, and the quarry at its southern end, were
  all strongly held by machine-guns in prepared emplacements. As
  before, the German gunners fought with magnificent pertinacity
  and courage; one Tank Commander claimed to have knocked out over
  thirty machine-guns, and this claim was supported by the infantry
  with him; the estimates of several other Tanks were almost as high.
  These machine-guns were provided with armour-piercing bullets,
  and Tanks were pitted all over and in many places penetrated by
  these. There is no doubt that by themselves becoming the targets
  for these batteries, the Tanks saved many casualties among the
  infantry. With the machine-guns well in hand, the Australian
  infantry were quick to seize the chances of advance, and by 6.30
  a.m. were all established in their final objectives. After sunrise
  the heat of the day became oppressive in the open air, and in the
  Tanks intolerable. Several cases were reported of men becoming
  delirious during the action. The cause appears to be three-fold:
  the weather conditions were trying even to fresh men; in many
  cases the composite crew had recently endured the strain of action
  without a complete rest to follow; and a third disadvantage, which
  was inherent in the design of the Mark V. Tank, was now for the
  first time becoming evident. In these engines the heat generated
  by the explosion of the propelling gases is very great, and the
  exhaust pipes speedily become red, and even white hot. In a new
  engine this is merely an inconvenience, but after a certain period
  of use the joints of the exhaust pipes tend to warp, and thus to
  release into the inner air the carbon gases of the explosion.
  These gases, if breathed continuously, even in small quantities,
  produce exhaustion, mental confusion and finally unconsciousness.
  Further, the effect is cumulative, and a man once poisoned by the
  fumes becomes more quickly affected by further exposure to them.
  The study of these conditions and the remedy for them became
  henceforward a matter of the first importance.

  “Of the twelve Tanks of the 13th Battalion which started in this
  action, seven reached their final objectives. Five Tanks received
  direct hits from enemy field guns, the crews in these cases going
  on with their Hotchkiss guns and assisting the infantry forward.

  “Eventually nine Tanks rallied to Company Headquarters, two of
  these being towed out of action by their friends.”

Altogether in this part of the battle 2000 prisoners and the important
villages of Chuignolles, Herleville and Chuignes had fallen to us
before nightfall.

It was the same story all along the line.

In the 3rd Army area, where altogether sixty-five Tanks fought
in several fairly widely separated groups, the battle was opened
rather earlier by a moonlight attack, which began just before 4 a.m.
against the village of Gomiécourt. In the 6th Corps’ domain, the 3rd
Division was supported by ten Mark IV. Tanks of the 12th Battalion.
They attacked Gomiécourt, carried it triumphantly and captured 500
prisoners. To the north of them, in the second phase, the Guards
Division, with four Mark IV.’s, captured the village of Hamelincourt.
At Bihucourt, just beyond Achiet-le-Grand, 300 of the enemy were forced
by Tanks to surrender to the infantry. In one Whippet Tank, the officer
and the sergeant were both killed, and the private drove his Tank into
action by himself, when a target presented itself, locking his back
axle and firing his Hotchkiss gun.

Later in the morning, some of the Whippets of the 6th Battalion were
operating with the infantry of the 4th Corps to the east of Courcelles.
It was suddenly noticed that the artillery barrage table had been
altered, and that the rate of progress of the barrage was now 100
yards in four minutes, that is to say, considerably slower than it
had been originally intended. The Tanks were therefore obliged to
manœuvre and wheel about, in order to let the barrage keep ahead. They
were constantly under anti-Tank gun fire at this time. Seven of the
Whippets, however, did not wait, but passed through our barrage, and
getting beyond it, surprised and scattered large numbers of the enemy
who had taken cover. As the Germans ran, the Whippet machine-gunners
were able to inflict heavy casualties upon them. Meanwhile, these
seven Tanks were played upon by a perfect hail of machine-gun
fire, especially from the direction of Achiet-le-Grand. Changing
their direction, they advanced upon the troublesome machine-guns
and succeeded in cutting off several hundred of the enemy north of
the village, who had been holding up an attack by our infantry. The
Whippets headed and drove them neatly towards our lines, where the
King’s Royal Rifles immediately took them prisoners. Achiet-le-Grand
was captured with extraordinary small losses.

Owing to the better weather conditions, aeroplane co-operation was much
more successful throughout the day than it had been on August 21.

Messages dropped by aeroplanes were invaluable in keeping the whole
straggling action in hand, and in giving information, by means of which
commanders could send up reserves where they were wanted.

The following will give the reader an idea of the sort of information
that the aeroplanes were constantly furnishing.

  “_Messages dropped on H.Q., 1st Brigade._

  “Lieutenant Wittal (pilot). Lieutenant Mitchell (observer). _12
  noon._

  “Four Whippets seen in G. 21, two Mark IV. and several Whippets
  seen in G. 15d, all moving S.E.

  “Several Whippets and Mark V. seen in G. 16a, G. 10 and 11d,
  proceeding S.E.

  “We do not hold Bihucourt.”

The counter-Tank gun work done on this day was also exceedingly
successful, the following is the report of an action fought by a
counter Gun Machine:

  “_No. 73 Squadron._

  “At 1.15 p.m. batteries were observed unlimbering and coming
  into action near Béhagnies. Twenty-four bombs were dropped and
  nearly 2000 rounds fired at these batteries, causing the greatest
  confusion. Several limbers were overturned, and horses stampeded,
  and the personnel scattered in all directions.”

Altogether we had every reason to be satisfied by the events of the
day, and we prepared to continue the action with all possible vigour on
the morrow.


II

But by August 24, there were only fifty-three Tanks of the 1st, 3rd
and 4th Brigades fit for action, and nearly all the units which went
in on this day were motley collections from various Battalions. One
composite unit of the 11th Battalion fought a very successful action in
conjunction with the 4th Corps, in spite of the fact that their orders
reached them late and that they had an approach march of six or seven
miles. They managed to catch up the infantry and all their objectives
were taken.

In the course of the afternoon, Tanks belonging to the 9th Battalion
attacked and met with very stubborn resistance opposite Mory Copse,
where the Hindenburg Line was strongly held. Here more than one enemy
garrison refused to surrender and had all to be killed. One party of
about sixty was accounted for by four rounds of 6-pounder case shot.

One machine, which was doing a piece of reconnaissance work near
Croisilles later in the day, had a particularly exciting experience.
The crew was forced to evacuate the Tank on account of the phosphorus
bombs with which the enemy had drenched it. Before leaving it, the
officer in command turned the head of his machine towards home and
started the Tank on its lonely way; then, almost choked with the
fumes, he got out and walked between the front horns of the moving
machine till the inside of the Tank was clear of phosphorus. All the
while, he and the machine were completely surrounded by the enemy. In
the end, he got his Tank home in safety.

On the 4th Army front, five Tanks of the 1st Battalion attacked at
dawn with the 47th Division in an effort to recapture Happy Valley,
which had been lost by us on the previous afternoon. The attack was
exceedingly successful, and besides our original objective, the large
village of Bray was added to our gains.

For the next week, the fighting consisted of a series of small local
engagements for the most part improvised on the spot by the Divisions
concerned.

Tanks fought every day in one part of the line or another, and every
day we forced a stubbornly resisting enemy further and further back.

We propose only to give a short account of most of the actions of this
period.

On August 25, about forty-two Tanks were again in action in little
“blobs,” strung out on the fronts of the 4th and 6th Corps. Tanks from
the 3rd, 7th, and 10th Battalions went into action, the 9th Battalion
attacking with the Guards Division, north of Mory. Owing to the
dense mist, co-operation between Tanks and infantry was phenomenally
difficult and the attack was not very successful. During the engagement
one Tank had five of its crew wounded by anti-Tank rifle bullets.

On the Canadian Corps front an attack was carried out on August 26,
near Fampoux and Neuville-Vitasse, with the help of Tanks of the 9th
and 11th Battalions.

Near Monchy several Tanks were knocked out, the crews joining the
infantry to repel a local counter-attack. The sergeant of one crew
hearing that the enemy had captured his Tank, collected his men and
charged forward to recover it, arriving at one sponson door of the
machine as the enemy were scrambling out of the opposite one.

The Tank Corps records characterise August 27 as “an uneventful day.”
Fourteen Tanks of the 9th and 11th Battalions were used for mopping up
points of resistance.

On the 28th no Tanks went into action at all.

But the 29th was more memorable, for on this day the enemy evacuated
Bapaume, and in a minor attack on Frémicourt Lieutenant C. H. Sewell
won the V.C.

It was a very small engagement south-west of Beugnâtre, in which only
four Whippet Tanks took part.

The following is extracted from the report of the engagement sent in by
Lieutenant Sewell’s Commanding Officer:

  “At about 2 p.m. on the afternoon of August 29, ‘Whippets’ of the
  3rd (Light) Tank Battalion reached the Quarry near the ‘Monument
  Comémoratif,’ south-west of Favreuil. Acting under instructions
  received from the New Zealand Division, one Section of ‘Whippets’
  under Lieutenant C. H. Sewell was ordered forward to clear up the
  situation on the front of the 3rd New Zealand Rifle Brigade before
  Frémicourt and the Bapaume-Cambrai road, where the infantry were
  reported to be held up by machine-gun fire.

  “On reaching the railway line south-east of Beugnâtre in advance of
  our infantry, enemy batteries and machine-guns opened heavy fire
  on the Section of ‘Whippets.’ In manœuvring to avoid the fire and
  to retain formation, Car No. A.233, commanded by Lieutenant O. L.
  Rees-Williams, side-slipped in a deep shell crater and turned
  completely upside down, catching fire at the same time.

  “Lieutenant Sewell, in the leading ‘Whippet,’ on seeing the plight
  of Lieutenant Rees-Williams’ car, immediately got out of his own
  ‘Whippet’ and came to the rescue; with a shovel he dug an entrance
  to the door of the cab, which was firmly jammed and embedded in the
  side of the shell-hole, forced the door open and liberated the crew.

  “Had it not been for Lieutenant Sewell’s prompt and gallant action,
  the imprisoned crew might have been burnt to death, as they were
  helpless to extricate themselves without outside assistance.

  “During the whole of this time ‘Whippets’ were being very heavily
  shelled and the ground swept by machine-gun fire at close range.
  On endeavouring to return to his own car, Lieutenant Sewell was
  unfortunately hit several times, his body being subsequently found
  lying beside that of his driver, Gunner Knox. W., also killed, just
  outside the Tank, which at that time was within short range of
  several machine-guns and infantry gun-pits.”

The rescued men were emphatic in their praise of the gallant manner in
which Lieutenant Sewell had saved them from a peculiarly horrible form
of death.

On the 30th, the 3rd Division was to undertake operations designing
to seize the villages of Ecoust and Longâtte with the trench system
beyond. Six Tanks of the 12th Battalion were to operate, and in
anticipation of their orders had already moved forward to the head
of the Sensée Valley. Unfortunately their orders did not reach the
Battalion till 9 p.m. on the night before the battle. The night was
intensely dark, and as luck would have it, the Reconnaissance Officer
who alone knew the ground had been recalled to England that day, and
there still remained nearly four miles by the shortest route before
the Tanks reached the jumping-off place. It was clear the machines
would have their work cut out if they were to reach the place in time.
The whole operation was dogged by misfortune. The taping party took
the wrong direction in the pitch dark, and when at last the Tanks
reached the point where the infantry guides were to lead them the rest
of the way, the guide for the left-hand section lost himself and the
Tanks completely before they had gone half the distance. For an hour
the Tanks and their conductor wandered about the devastated wastes
about Ecoust. The guide could not even point out on the map where the
infantry were formed up. At last the Section Commander went forward
by himself and managed to discover the whereabouts of the front line
and his own position, but only to find he was nearly a mile away and
it wanted five minutes to “zero.” It was impossible that he should
reach the battle in time, and he withdrew his Section according to
instructions as he was in an exposed position. Thus the unfortunate
infantry went over the top unaccompanied by a single Tank. The assault
was a complete failure and the infantry suffered heavy casualties.

  [84]“On August 31 a further action took place. ‘C’ Company of
  the 15th Battalion under Captain G. A. Smith assisting the 185th
  Brigade in attacking Vaulx-Vraucourt from the south.

  “Five Tanks reached their objectives, one failing owing to
  mechanical trouble; these Tanks did considerable execution and
  rendered great assistance to the infantry. Again heavy machine-gun
  and anti-Tank rifle fire were encountered. After the show the
  Tanks themselves bore mute witness to what they had been through.
  In particular the Tank ‘Opossum,’ commanded by Lieutenant C. F.
  Uzielli, had very little paint left on its sides because of bullet
  marks. The infantry suffered heavily. In one case the strength of a
  platoon on reaching its objective was only three men.”


III

But we had reached a stage of the battle when it was clear that another
considerable effort on our part would be well worth the making.

The enemy’s resistance showed him passionately anxious to gain time. He
retreated with extreme reluctance.

It was the moment to redouble our blows.

The actual small operations carried out by the Tanks during these last
few days were only a minor consideration. Tanks and infantry were
busy preparing for a considerable attack which was to take place on
September 2. On this day, the whole vast battle reached its zenith and
we broke the famous Drocourt-Quéant Line which we had failed to reach
in April 1917. This line was a switch which joined on to the Hindenburg
system. Though we had had scant time for elaborate preparation, the
attack was to be practically a full-dress affair, eighty-one Tanks
being put in on a comparatively small area. We were expecting a heavy
resistance and our dispositions were very carefully made. The order of
our attack was as follows, starting from the south:

With the 4th Corps near Villers-au-Flos the 7th Tank Battalion.

With the 6th Corps near Lagnicourt and Moreuil the 12th and 6th
Battalions of the 1st Brigade, and against the actual Drocourt-Quéant
Line with the Canadians and the 17th Corps as many Tanks as the 9th,
11th and 14th Battalions of the 3rd Brigade could muster (about forty
in all).

The battle was to be fought in the intricate country of the Sensée
Valley, and active operations were taking place throughout the time of
preparation for the renewed battle. It was, therefore, under conditions
of exceptional difficulty that the Tanks assembled, some of them
being obliged to travel along our front across areas which were far
from healthy. The enemy’s defences had been built in the Spring of
1917. They were remarkable for extremely strong belts of wire, and we
expected that every effort would be made by the Germans to hold these
defences at all cost.

Zero was at 5.30 a.m. and a clear dawn was just breaking when we
launched our attack.

On the Lagnicourt sector, Tanks of the 12th Battalion immediately came
under tremendous fire from field guns and anti-Tank rifles.

As it grew lighter, we discovered that a number of the heavy rifles
were being fired with great effect from a derelict Whippet. This nest
was soon dealt with by a male Tank.

One female Tank in this sector fired over 4000 rounds of S.A.A., until,
having all its Lewis guns except one disabled, and five of its crew
severely wounded, it endeavoured to return, its Commander, Lieutenant
Saunders, alternately driving, working the brakes and firing the
remaining gun. As the Tank was thus being successfully withdrawn, a
direct hit set it on fire and the wounded men were rescued with great
difficulty.

It was not far from Lagnicourt that the Whippets of the 6th Battalion
operated.

They were commanded by Lieut.-Colonel West, of whose action on August
21 we have already told the story:

  [85]“On the night of September 1–2, nine Whippets, under Captain
  C. H. Strachan, left Gomiécourt to attack in the direction of
  Lagnicourt. Owing to the pressure at which the Tanks had been
  working for the last five weeks, little time had been available
  for overhauling, and as the Tanks were running badly, it was
  impossible to get them up in time for zero hour. The Commanding
  Officer, Lieut.-Colonel R. A. West, D.S.O., M.C., left camp early
  on the morning of September 2, with two mounted orderlies. It was
  his intention to get up with the Whippets before they went into
  action, by Lagnicourt. He went as far as the infantry on horseback,
  in order to watch the progress of the battle, and to ascertain when
  to send the Whippets forward. He arrived at the front line when the
  enemy were in process of delivering a strong local counter-attack.
  The infantry battalion had suffered heavy officer casualties, and
  its flanks were exposed. Realising that there was a danger of the
  Battalion giving way, he at once rode in front of them, under
  extremely heavy machine-gun and rifle fire, and rallied the men. In
  spite of the fact that the enemy were now close upon him, he took
  charge of the situation, and detailed N.C.O.’s to replace officer
  casualties. He then rode up and down in front of the men, in face
  of certain death, encouraging all, and calling upon them to ‘Stick
  it, men and show them fight.’ His last words were ‘For God’s sake
  put up a good fight.’ He fell, riddled by machine-gun bullets.”

The infantry had been inspired to redoubled efforts by Colonel West’s
example and the hostile attack was defeated. He had originally come to
the Battalion as a Company Commander, and had been awarded the D.S.O.
for his work in the Arras battle. Between August 8 and September 2, he
was awarded the M.C., a bar to his D.S.O., and, for his last action,
the V.C.

Elsewhere the fighting was not so heavy, and on the whole we met with
less opposition than we had expected.

In the Canadian sector, the armoured cars were working in close
conjunction with Tank Corps aeroplanes. At one moment a number of cars
were going along a road, when four machines were hit by shells from
hidden batteries. Their accompanying aeroplanes, however, immediately
attacked the German guns so vigorously that the crews of the disabled
cars, though completely surrounded by the enemy, were able to escape
capture.

By noon, on the Canadian section, the whole elaborate maze of wire,
trenches and strong points, which constituted the Drocourt-Quéant Line,
was in our hands, but elsewhere there was hard fighting until dusk,
especially on the reverse slopes of Dury Ridge. Dury itself we took,
capturing the Town Major. Our task had not, however, we considered,
been quite completed that day, and next morning Tanks and infantry
prepared to “tidy up” the line, especially Maricourt Wood.

But long before zero hour, at 5.20, a glare of burning dumps in the
east seemed to show that the enemy were already withdrawing, and,
in fact, when the Tanks went over just after dawn, they encountered
scarcely any opposition at all, save a perfunctory fire from rearguard
machine-gunners. Small parties of the enemy were found in dug-outs,
waiting to be captured. His infantry and guns were already well on
their way back to the Canal du Nord.


IV

The Second Battle of Arras was over and we had pierced the renowned
Drocourt-Quéant Line and had delivered a blow from which the enemy’s
_moral_ never quite recovered.

Since August 21, in all, some 500 Tanks had been in action, and except
for one or two minor failures every attack had culminated in a cheap
success. We had pushed forward for fifteen or twenty miles along about
thirty miles of front.

  [86]“During the night of September 2–3, the enemy fell back
  rapidly on the whole front of the 3rd Army and the right of the
  1st Army. By the end of the day, he had taken up positions along
  the general line of the Canal du Nord, from Péronne to Ypres, and
  thence east of Hermies, Inchy-en-Artois and Ecoust St. Quentin to
  the Sensée, east of Lecluse. On the following day he commenced to
  withdraw also from the east bank of the Somme, south of Péronne,
  and by the night of September 8 was holding the general line
  Vermand--Epehy--Havrincourt, and thence along the east bank of the
  Canal du Nord.

  “The withdrawal was continued on the front of the French forces on
  our right.

  “Throughout this hasty retreat our troops followed up the enemy
  closely. Many of his rearguards were cut off and taken prisoner;
  on numerous occasions our forward guns did great execution among
  his retiring columns, while our airmen took full advantage of the
  remarkable targets offered them. Great quantities of material and
  many guns fell into our hands.”

But the Tank Brigades were, all of them, in such urgent need of
refitting, of new machines and of fresh crews, that after the 3rd they
had to be withdrawn into G.H.Q. reserve, and, “faint with pursuing,”
were unable to take any further part in the battle for just over a
fortnight.

Even so, that fortnight was spent, not in rest, but in feverish
preparation of the most arduous kind. We had begun to practise the
fitting of Cribs, for we were getting back to the Hindenburg Line.

The other dogs of war were in full cry. The Tanks did not propose to
waste time.

By September 18, the 5th Brigade was able to put a few machines into
the field. They belonged to the 2nd Battalion, which had not fought
since the earlier stages of the last battle.


V

This time the Tanks were to be put in the south, in the 4th Army area.

There were to be about twenty Tanks, and they were to work with the
Australians and the 9th and 3rd Corps on a wide front between Epehy and
Villeret.

  [87]“The operations about to be undertaken by the 4th Army aimed at
  the capture of the Hindenburg Outpost Line in order (1) to secure
  direct observation over the main Hindenburg Line, and (2) to allow
  our artillery positions to be advanced in preparation for the
  assault on the main positions.”

The area attacked had a front of about fourteen miles, thus a Battalion
of twenty Tanks could merely be employed against certain known strong
points.

Eight Tanks were allotted to the 3rd Corps on the left, eight Tanks
in the centre were to work with the 1st and 4th Divisions of the
Australian Corps.

On the 9th Corps sector on the right, four Tanks were allotted to the
6th Division.

The night had been fine, but when zero hour came (5.20) it was raining
heavily, and all day the weather was dull and cloudy, visibility being
often bad enough to make the Tank Commanders glad of their compasses.

  [88]“The company operating with the 3rd Corps had for their two
  main objectives the villages of Epehy and Ronssoy. The former place
  was taken with no great resistance, the enemy surrendering in
  numbers on the appearance of the Tanks. Ronssoy was more stoutly
  defended; here machine-gun fire with armour-piercing bullets was
  very heavy, and anti-Tank rifles were also freely used. Two Tanks
  had for their objective the very strong organisation of trenches
  and fortified cottages known as the Quadrilateral, which formed the
  key to the German Defensive System between Fresnoy and Selency.”

During the attack two Tanks belonging to “C” Company fought an
extremely gallant action.

  [89]“Fresnoy was the line of the first objective, but in going
  forward, the infantry came under heavy machine-gun fire from the
  Quadrilateral on their right flank. Both officers, unseen by one
  another in the mist and smoke, headed their Tanks straight for the
  thickest of the fire. Second Lieutenant G. F. Smallwood arrived
  first and encountered terrific resistance, with which he was
  successfully dealing when his Tank became ditched while crossing
  a sunken road, all guns but one being covered. It was impossible
  to use the unditching beam owing to the intense fire from short
  range. At this moment Second Lieutenant W. R. Hedges, driving his
  own Tank, as the driver had been killed and the second driver badly
  wounded, appeared from the mist heading for the Quadrilateral with
  all guns firing. Captain Hamlet, the Section Commander, was also
  inside this Tank. Just as Second Lieutenant Hedges was appearing
  to get the upper hand of the enemy his Tank burst into flames.
  Desperate efforts were apparently made to put these out, but after
  five minutes Captain Hamlet and the crew jumped out of the Tank on
  the right-hand side straight into the arms of the Huns, who had
  surrounded the Tank. Second Lieutenant Hedges, however, sprang
  out from the other side and darted through them though subject
  to a heavy fire. Though hit two or three times he reached the
  shelter of the sunken road about fifty yards from Second Lieutenant
  Smallwood’s Tank. The latter left the Tank and brought Second
  Lieutenant Hedges back with him. Heavy shelling all round the Tank
  compelled its evacuation, and Second Lieutenant Smallwood and crew
  took up a position with their machine-guns and successfully held
  off the enemy. Later on, the infantry, who had been held up some
  200 yards behind, were able to come up and take over the post.
  Meanwhile Second Lieutenant Hedges had been sent to a Dressing
  Station, but he never arrived there. This very gallant officer’s
  fate is still unknown.”

On the 9th Corps front progress was slow, but by the end of the day we
held Ronssoy and Hargicourt.

A good idea is given of the minor mechanical difficulties of this part
of the campaign in the 2nd Battalion History:

  “Liaison, reconnaissance and Tank maintenance were rendered far
  more difficult than usual owing to the lack of transport, which was
  in such a state that no car, box-body, lorry or motor-cycle could
  be relied upon. The nearest M.T. Park for repairs was twenty-five
  miles away. Long treks by night meant work on Tanks by day.
  Reconnaissance and liaison had often to be carried out on foot with
  consequent loss of time. There was very little rest or sleep for
  any one between September 13 and 18.”

We did not renew the advance till the 21st, when nine Tanks helped the
attack on the 3rd Corps front against the Knoll and Guillemont and
Quennemont Farms. Two of these Tanks were of the Mark V. Star pattern
and carried forward infantry machine-gunners.

But we were up against a desperate enemy resistance, machine-guns
firing armour-piercing bullets, anti-Tank rifles, field guns and land
mines all being used against us.

The attack did not succeed in gaining us the coveted positions, and we
were to pay dearly for this failure.

Again two days elapsed, and meanwhile (on the 20th) the 8th, 16th and
13th Battalions, and the 5th Supply Co. had been brought forward.

There was a big enterprise in view.

This hitherto more or less isolated sector of attack was to be
“federated” with the new vast projected attack which was to be made
by no fewer than three Armies, their blows timed to fall in rapid
succession.

Meanwhile a piece of ground which we coveted remained in enemy hands.

We were anxious to hold the high ground north of Selency and to clear
up the formidable Quadrilateral south of Fresnoy.

The 9th Corps, therefore, was to attack on a two-division front with
the aid of twenty Tanks of the newly arrived 13th Battalion.

The plans were discussed at a conference held on September 22, and the
Tanks brought up to the assembly points by skeleton crews that same
night.

The fighting crews were brought up by lorry the following afternoon,
according to the wise practice which was now beginning to be generally
employed, whenever there was enough personnel to make it possible. The
final approach march was begun at 8.30 p.m. the night of the 23rd.

  [90]“After Clearing St. Quentin Wood, in which some delay was
  caused by overhead signal wires, which had to be passed from hand
  to hand to avoid catching the semaphore standards, Tanks had
  to pass through a heavy harassing fire in which gas shell was
  largely employed. Thus the latter part of the march was made with
  Tanks closed and gas masks often worn; in consequence the crews,
  especially of the company working on the left, suffered greatly
  from gas and petrol fumes. While waiting on the Start Lines, Tanks
  were heavily shelled, and enemy ’planes twice during the night
  dropped flares exactly over the sections with the 6th Division on
  the right.”

Anti-Tank guns were extremely active throughout the operation.

Three Tanks, which with their infantry penetrated right into the
Quadrilateral, were all put out of action by a single gun.

Altogether, the Tanks suffered a 50 per cent. loss of machines in this
action.

However, we won some of the points of observation that were needed for
the next attack, and though we failed to hold the Quadrilateral we had
practically outflanked and sterilised it by the end of the day.

So ended the little Battle of Epehy.

Our advance had not been a long one, for the enemy had contested every
yard with a desperate valour.

His losses had been enormous, and this minor battle added no less than
12,000 prisoners and 100 guns to the Allied “bag.”




CHAPTER XX

THE SECOND BATTLE OF CAMBRAI, OR THE BATTLE OF CAMBRAI-ST. QUENTIN


The enemy was in full retreat, but we had every reason to suppose that
once he had got “home,” back to the Hindenburg Line, he would resist
our further attempts to advance with all his strength.

If we attacked the line and our assault was successful, and we could
break his defences, the way, as we have said, lay clear to the heart
of his great system of lateral railway communications. We could cut
his forces completely in two. But besides this, if we could beat him
here on his chosen battleground, if we could wound him, even behind
the rampart upon which he had for years spent such an infinity of
toil, where, in the open unprepared country behind, could he hope to
withstand us? The lists were set for a struggle _à outrance_, the two
forces faced each other grimly, for upon the fortunes of the champions
in this combat hung the fate of the German nation. It was to be a Tank
attack. We were to make the assault on a very wide front, and were to
continue our system of hitting in rapid succession in alternate Army
areas. The last blow had been delivered by the 4th Army on September
18. The new battle was to be begun by the 1st and 3rd Armies.

  [91]“On the 1st and 3rd Army fronts, strong positions covering
  the approaches to Cambrai between the Nord and Schelde Canals,
  including the section of the Hindenburg Line itself north of
  Gouzeaucourt, were still in the enemy’s possession. His trenches in
  this sector faced south-west, and it was desirable that they should
  be taken in the early stages of the operation, so as to render it
  easier for the artillery of the 4th Army to get into position.”

To the south, as soon as certain points of vantage, Quennemont Farm,
the Knoll and Bellicourt, were in our hands, there was to be a lull,
and the 4th Army was to attack in strength on the 29th, two days
later--as soon, that is, as the Germans had had time thoroughly to
involve their reserves in the first mêlée.

Meanwhile the Tank Brigades had to be rapidly reorganised and
redistributed, the Battalions being almost all reshuffled. About
one-third of the available machines were to be put in on the northern
part of the front, and the other two-thirds were to fight with the 4th
Army on the 29th.

For the sake of clarity, it is simpler to treat the two halves of the
battle separately, for though they were completely interdependent and
formed part of one strategic conception, each offered very distinct
tactical problems of its own. In each the ground had very marked
topographical features, features that gave to each half a special
character.


PART I


I

We have said that the 1st and 3rd Armies were to strike first.
Tanks belonging to the 7th and 11th Battalions of the 1st Brigade
were to fight with the Canadians and the 4th Corps opposite Bourlon
and Gouzeaucourt, and the 2nd Brigade was to contribute the 15th
Battalion, which was to co-operate with the 17th Corps opposite
Graincourt and Flesquières.

Altogether fifty-three fighting Tanks were to be employed.

As in the 4th Army sector, the peculiar lie of the country was the
chief influence which shaped our battle tactics, as in the 4th Army
area a canal was the central feature of the attack.

In the First Battle of Cambrai the Tanks had all attacked from south of
the northward bend of the Canal du Nord near Havrincourt, and so worked
up the enemy’s side of this great obstacle.

Now we were in a better position to force a direct crossing, both
strategically and mechanically, and the hazardous venture was to
be attempted. Direct ground reconnaissance of the Canal itself was
impossible, as the enemy held the hither bank in strength, but every
conceivable source of information was exhaustively exploited in the
endeavour to find crossing-places for the Tanks, that might offer at
least a possibility of success.

Daring flights were made by special observers in low-flying aeroplanes,
and a wonderful mosaic was pieced together from successive sets of
air-photographs.

This was annotated, re-photographed, enlarged, and circulated to all
concerned for further amplification and annotation as additional
information was collected; Major Macavity of the Canadian Corps
Intelligence, and Captain Oswald Birly of 1st Army Headquarters, being
largely responsible for the thoroughness of this, as well as of several
previous “over-the-line” surveys.

In addition, the _Garde Champêtre_, the _Ponts et Chaussées_ service,
and the engineers’ working drawings for the Canal, were all laid under
contribution, as well as the evidence of a number of prisoners,
refugees and _repatriés_.

From such sources and on such evidence the requisite number of
crossings were at length determined on, and the Tanks definitely and
severally allotted to them, for good or ill.

But when all had been done, there were one or two points about which
there still remained a disquieting element of doubt.

At one of these, where aerial photographs showed a breach through
the retaining banks of the dry Canal that just might, or that just
might not, allow sufficient width for Tanks to cross, a crossing was
imperative for the local success of the attack. Somehow, a passage had
to be positively assured--and there seemed but one sure way of keeping
our contract with the infantry, who were to storm the Canal at that
place.

A bridge was to be formed of three old and obsolete Tanks, upon the
broad backs of which their juniors and betters might scramble across
and get to close quarters with the enemy. Four elderly machines,
warranted unsound, were accordingly sought out, specially stiffened up
with internal timber struts, and allotted the self-sacrificing task of
slithering down into the Canal bed, and there swinging and shunting
until they lay side by side ready for the fighters to crawl over them.

Under the heading “A BRIDGE OF TANKS,” the actual crossing was very
vividly described in the Press.

                              “_Paris, September 28._

  “A French correspondent relates the following interesting episode
  which happened in the battle yesterday.

  “It had been decided that a Tank detachment of the older types
  should lead the attack, expose themselves to the enemy fire, and,
  on arriving at the brink of the Canal, drop themselves into the
  bed so as to form an improvised bridge from one Tank to the other.
  The fast Tanks were to follow, and this new rapid type was to pass
  over the backs of their older comrades, opening out a path for the
  infantry. Volunteers were asked for this post of danger, and for
  one crew wanted ten crews offered themselves. Lots had to be drawn
  finally to choose the heroic winners of this contest of honour. The
  wonderful feat was accomplished. The old scarred Tanks, covered
  with ancient gashes and wounds proudly gained in the fighting on
  the Somme, and in the fighting of over a year ago before Cambrai,
  took for the last time their slow and massive way, and plunged
  with noble abnegation over the edge. Over their bodies the new
  strong Tanks passed with giant strides, our soldiers followed
  them to victory, and shortly after eight o’clock they penetrated
  Flesquières.”

As a matter of fact, the actuality fell somewhat short of this
description. The veteran machines found themselves quite unequal to the
long trek, and even the least decrepit of the four finally doddered to
a standstill whilst yet miles away from the Canal.

So there was no “Bridge of Tanks” after all, though, as things turned
out, its absence embarrassed no one, with the possible though unlikely
exception of the “close-up” correspondent.

Most fortunately the doubtful crossing proved practicable, and all
machines, save one that struck a land-mine, passed safely over.


II

The attack was, as usual, at dawn, and, as the first-wave Tanks and
infantry went over the top, they met with fierce resistance. On the
right we encountered particularly strong opposition near Beaucamp Ridge.

The 11th Battalion History remarks upon the extraordinarily gallant
fighting of the enemy on this sector.

  “In some cases they even attempted to pull the machine-guns and
  6-pounders out of the Tanks. We inflicted many casualties by
  actually running over machine-guns and infantry, as well as by our
  fire.”

Indeed, the Germans here constantly counter-attacked throughout the
day, so important did they deem the position. In spite of them,
however, we successfully established our right flank.

Just to the north of them the Guards and the 3rd Division forced a
crossing of the Canal in face of their heavy machine and field gun
fire, captured Ribecourt and Flesquières, the Guards taking Arival Wood
and pushing north of Premy Chapel, where the 2nd Division took up the
advance.

The 15th Battalion History tells the story of four Tanks which were
co-operating with the Guards Division. It is typical of this part of
the battle. On the northern outskirts of Flesquières they awaited the
arrival of the 1st Grenadiers, filling in the interval by helping the
Gordons in their occupation of the village.

When the Guards arrived the situation was still somewhat obscure,
and Major Skeggs, commanding the Tanks, made a daring forward
reconnaissance from Flesquières towards Premy Chapel.

The Tanks were brought round north of the village immediately, engaging
a number of machine and field guns, which were firing from Arival Wood.
In order to cover the advance of the infantry, the Tanks had to come up
over a bare stretch of country, exposed to direct fire from a number of
field pieces.

Two Tanks, “Orchid” and “Othello,” were soon knocked out, and 2nd
Lieutenant Riddle’s “Orestes” and Sergeant Whatley’s “Oribi” only were
left.

But it was in the centre that the Tanks fought their chief battle.
Under cover of darkness, the Canadians and the 63rd Division had moved
down the west bank of the Canal near Mœuvres and Sains-lez-Marquion. In
the half light of dawn they stormed the Canal itself. The resistance
here was far from well organised.

  [92]“Silkem Chapel and Wood Switch were packed with enemy infantry,
  who were in great confusion, unable to move one way or the other.
  The Tank ‘Odetta,’ commanded by Second Lieutenant C. W. Luck, did
  great execution there, bringing all his guns to bear on the enemy,
  and using case shot at point-blank range.”

All day the 15th Battalion fought.

  “About 4.30 p.m. the G.S.O.3, 63rd Division, brought up a
  Brigadier-General (brigade not ascertained), who asked if Tanks
  could go forward with his Brigade, who were then about to resume
  the advance. He was informed that they had very little petrol
  left, but would go on if he (the Brigadier-General) would accept
  responsibility for Tanks being stranded right forward without
  petrol. The Brigadier-General agreed to this, and said he wanted to
  get his Brigade on to the Marquion Line.

  “The two Tanks went forward and picked up the infantry north
  of Graincourt. From this point they preceded the infantry,
  encountering practically no opposition.

  “Beyond Anneux, the Tanks came under a lot of machine-gun fire
  from the direction of Fontaine-Notre-Dame. Both Tanks were
  turned broadside on, and fire was brought to bear on the German
  machine-guns in order to support the infantry advancing on the
  left. Parties of the enemy, who were seen coming over the crest
  towards the Marquion Line, were engaged by all Tank guns which
  could be brought to bear. The enemy ran away and many casualties
  were caused.

  “Soon after this some heavy shells, believed to have been fired
  from trench mortars, fell very close to the Tanks. These two Tanks
  reached a point about 1000 yards from Cantaing before completing
  their work.

  “Petrol was then almost finished, crews were much exhausted,
  having left the final lying-up place at about twelve midnight, on
  September 26–27. The work required of the Tanks was completed, so
  they were withdrawn to a point well east of the Canal.”

Meanwhile our line had been pushed on east of Anneux to
Fontaine-Notre-Dame. Bourlon Village had been carried by the 7th Tank
Battalion and the Canadians. We had passed through Bourlon Wood, which
was now wholly in our possession.

On the extreme left a Division of the 22nd Corps had also crossed the
Canal, cleared Sauchy-Lestrée and had moved on northward.

The air co-operation had been particularly effective throughout the
day. The work of the 8th Squadron had, however, been a good deal
hampered, as they had concentrated on the 4th Army front for the recent
fighting there, and therefore had a long flight and difficult signal
communications when ordered to work with the 3rd and 1st Armies.
However, their arrangements with their Tank partners were, as usual,
admirable. With the 7th Battalion, who, with the Canadians, had been
set the task of crossing the Canal du Nord opposite Inchy, and then
taking Bourlon Village, co-operation was particularly good; not only
were vital messages dropped at Battalion Headquarters, but a gun which
was firing on three of our Tanks from Bourlon Wood was effectively
bombed, and twice the airman chased its crew away with his machine-gun.

[Illustration: INFANTRY ADVANCING BEHIND TANKS. A PRACTICE ATTACK AT
BERMICOURT]

[Illustration: THE ST. QUENTIN CANAL TUNNEL, BELLICOURT]

[Illustration: CARRIER PIGEON BEING RELEASED]

On September 28 Tanks of the 7th and 11th Battalions fought again at
Baillencourt. Seven Tanks of the 11th Battalion with the 5th Corps
captured Villers Guislain and Gonnelieu.

By the evening of the 28th we had taken all our objectives, and had
advanced beyond our old high-water line of the First Battle of Cambrai.
Fontaine-Notre-Dame, Bourlon Village, Epinoy and Haynecourt were all
ours, and we had captured over 10,000 prisoners and 200 guns. The Tanks
had suffered heavy casualties, but they had not suffered them in vain.


PART II


I

We have said that in the original battle scheme, certain points of
vantage, Quennemont, the Knoll, and Bellicourt, were assumed to be in
our hands a day or so before the main attack on the 4th Army front was
launched.

These fortified heights were of importance owing to the singular
geography of this sector of the line.

All along this piece of the front, more or less parallel to the lines
of the armies, runs--deep and broad--the St. Quentin Canal.

For three and a half miles, however, between Bellicourt and Vendhuille
it runs underground through a tunnel.

We have seen how, in the northern part of the line, the enemy had
relied upon the Canal du Nord to form the principal obstacle to an
attack.

In August we had captured a document which proved that he realised
that if we attacked at all in the south, and whether we attacked with
Tanks or not, it would be in that three-and-a-half-mile gap that our
heaviest blow would fall.

The photograph gives an excellent notion why we had to avoid certain
sectors of the Canal at all costs, and Sir Douglas Haig, in his
Despatch, gives an admirable idea of some of the complex features which
the topography here possessed.

  “The general configuration of the ground through which this sector
  of the Canal runs, produces deep cuttings of a depth in places of
  some sixty feet; while between Bellicourt and the neighbourhood
  of Vendhuille the Canal passes through a tunnel for a distance of
  6000 yards. In the sides of the cuttings the enemy had constructed
  numerous tunnelled dug-outs and concrete shelters. Along the top
  edge of them he had concealed well-sited concrete or armoured
  machine-gun emplacements. The tunnel itself was used to provide
  living accommodation for troops, and was connected by shafts with
  the trenches above. South of Bellicourt the Canal cutting gradually
  becomes shallow, till at Bellenglise the Canal lies almost at
  ground level. South of Bellenglise the Canal is dry.

  “On the western side of the Canal, south of Bellicourt, two
  thoroughly organised and extremely heavily wired lines of
  continuous trench run roughly parallel to the Canal, at average
  distances from it of 2000 and 1000 yards respectively. The whole
  series of defences, with the numerous defended villages contained
  in it, formed a belt of country varying from 7000 to 10,000 yards
  in depth, organised by the employment of every available means into
  a most powerful system, well meriting the great reputation attached
  to it.”

On the three and a half miles of front, where alone Tanks and artillery
could cross the line of the Canal, the outpost system which everywhere
protected the Hindenburg Line, was doubly reinforced, and gained a
natural strength from its position on the heights, beneath which the
Canal had burrowed.

Only a very “full dress” attack on so highly organised a system as the
Hindenburg Line was likely to be successful, and in order to launch
such an attack it was essential that we should already hold the Knoll
and Guillemont and Quennemont Farms.

We have seen how in the last day or two of the battle of Epehy we
assaulted the line again and again, duly captured the sector opposite
Bellicourt, but how, two days before the main attack was to be
launched, the Knoll and Quennemont were still in the hands of the enemy.

This state of affairs caused grave anxiety, as the whole set-piece
attack was based on the idea of using this line as a “jumping-off”
position.

It had been intended that the two American Divisions, which were to
fight on this sector, should only be put in when this line had been
secured.

It was now decided that they must themselves make a final effort to
capture the outpost line before the main assault, which was due for
dawn on September 29.

Therefore, at dawn on the 27th, the 27th American Division, assisted
by twelve Tanks of the 4th Battalion, again attacked under cover of a
creeping barrage.

  [93]“The attack met with strong opposition, and the final position
  reached was the subject of conflicting reports from the troops
  engaged and from the air observers. Subsequent events showed that
  small parties of Americans and Tanks had reached the vicinity of
  their objective, and had very gallantly maintained themselves
  there; but the line as a whole was not materially advanced by the
  day’s operations.... The barrage could not now be brought back on
  this flank owing to the knowledge that parties of American troops,
  as well as a number of American wounded, would be exposed to our
  own fire. Also any alteration in the barrage plans, which had
  already been issued, would inevitably lead to confusion.”

Either, therefore, the whole main attack must be delayed, or the
American divisions and some of the British troops north of them must
start some 1000 yards behind their barrage, and from a very indefinite
jumping-off line.

The latter course was decided upon.

  [94]“The artillery start line, as originally planned, was to hold
  good, and the troops of the 27th American Division would form up
  for the attack on a line as far forward as possible, and would be
  assisted by an additional number of Tanks. The strength in Tanks
  was augmented to such an extent as should easily overwhelm the
  enemy resistance west of the start line. It was thought that this,
  with the slow rate of barrage, would enable the Americans to carry
  out their task.”

But there was yet one more difficulty, a serious obstacle of which
we were serenely unaware. A British anti-Tank minefield, consisting
of rows of buried heavy trench-mortar bombs, each holding 50 lb. of
ammonal, had been put down just prior to our loss of the area in March
1918, and of this minefield no information had reached the Tanks.

It will thus be seen that the dice were very heavily loaded against
success on this part of the front before day dawned on the eventful
29th of September, 1918.

The whole attack was to be on a twelve-mile front. The infantry were to
take advantage of a number of foot-bridges, which our bombardment had
prevented the enemy from getting out to destroy, and in some places our
men were prepared to wade or swim through the water.

It was expected, however, that the chief resistance would be offered on
the famous three and a half miles.

Altogether about 175 Tanks, including the new American Battalion, were
to be launched, and four Corps were to be involved.

To the 9th Corps on the right, the 5th, 6th and 7th Tank Battalions of
the 3rd Brigade were allotted.

In the centre, with the Australian and American Corps, the 1st, 4th and
301st American Battalions of the 4th Brigade were to fight.[95]

The 8th, 13th and 16th Battalions of the 5th Tank Brigade were to be
held in 4th Army Reserve.

Almost up to zero hour on the 29th we still hoped to get news that we
held the Knoll and Quennemont. But no reassuring message came through.

It was thus in a very singular world that the 301th American Tank
Battalion was destined to make its debut.

  [96]“The 301st’s reconnaissance before the battle was very
  efficiently carried out in spite of many disadvantages. The taping
  especially was a classic example of pluck and efficiency. It
  must be borne in mind that this was no quiet front, and that the
  attempts to take his outpost line had made the Boche exceedingly
  nervous and alert. In consequence, the nights preceding the battle
  were some of the dirtiest I’ve experienced. The Battalion R.O.
  (I’ve forgotten his name), one Company R.O. (Lieutenant T. C.
  Naedale) and a sergeant were knocked out whilst supervising the
  taping. Lieutenant Naedale got his wounds dressed and continued
  his work up till zero hour. It is worthy of mention, in connection
  with this incident, that each American Tank had its own tape laid
  out over our front line towards the Boche by the Company R.O.’s.
  Tank Commanders told me afterwards that they had to start fighting
  before the end of their tape was reached.”


II

When the dawn broke the usual mist lay thick and added its quota of
confusion to the uncertainties of the morning.

All along the line, the battle swayed confusedly, developing into what
was perhaps the most complete “mix-up” of any battle of the War.

To the north, the fighting was extremely heavy.

Owing to the employment of an effective barrage having been impossible,
the American 27th Division suffered severely from the fire of massed
hostile machine-guns from the moment the attack began.

Just as the Tanks of the 301st were moving up in support, ready to
deal with the machine-guns which were, as an eye-witness describes it,
by now “mowing down the other Americans in swathes,” no less than ten
machines struck upon the forgotten minefield.

The American Tanks experienced the bitterest of war’s accidents,
useless destruction at the hands of their own colleagues.

The explosions were terrific, the whole bottom of many machines being
torn out and a large proportion of the crews being killed.

A little further to the south our attack was progressing well.

Tanks of the 4th and 5th Battalions and their infantry had pushed
forward. The intricate trench system and the confusion of wire and
dug-outs, however, were responsible for a certain loss of cohesion,
so that by the time the village of Bellicourt had been reached the
attacking troops were some distance behind the barrage, and a good deal
of the weight had gone out of the assault.

But though several large parties of the enemy still held out, we had,
on this sector, actually penetrated the Hindenburg Line before noon.

But now the mist began to lift. The enemy still held Quennemont Farm
and the land to the north of it in great strength, and from that high
ground they were now beginning to be able to see well enough to pour a
devastating fire into the backs of the troops who were advancing in the
Bellicourt Sector. The situation was critical and called for immediate
action.

Major Hotblack, the Head of the Tank Corps Intelligence, who was
watching the progress of the battle near this point, luckily realised
the situation before the enemy and rushed to try to improvise a
diversion. He fortunately found two Tanks[97] which were waiting, ready
to take part in a later stage of the attack. With the permission of the
Battalion Commander, the two machines were hastily set going, and Major
Hotblack jumped into the leading Tank. The machines were driven rapidly
towards Quennemont Ridge. There was no body of infantry immediately
available, and with the weather in its present mood, there was no
time to wait; so the two Tanks without artillery or infantry support
attacked what afterwards proved to be an unbroken sector of the enemy’s
front.

But if confusion reigned in the British line, there is no doubt
that the Germans, though fighting exceedingly well, were far from
clear about the actual position. In the confusion, they appear to
have mistaken the two isolated machines for a considerable force.
The two Tanks successfully made their way on to the heretofore
impregnable Ridge, and actually succeeded in driving the enemy off
it, killing large numbers of the defenders and capturing a quantity
of machine-guns. Then at last the German field gunners awoke to the
situation, and being otherwise unharassed, opened a devastating fire
upon the two presumptuous machines. They succeeded in hitting and
setting fire to both of them, the crews being obliged to evacuate,
having suffered considerable casualties.

Major Hotblack, though partially blinded, was able to carry on, but
the only other officer was severely wounded, and a derisory little
force--one officer and five or six men, was thus left to hold the
Ridge. Quite undaunted, they immediately set to work to prepare for the
German counter-attack which, now that the Tanks were out of action and
ablaze, seemed imminent. There was an abundance of enemy machine-guns
lying about, and some of these were got ready for action, for the
Tanks’ own guns had been destroyed when the machines were knocked out.

While these guns were being turned round ready for their late owners,
the tiny garrison was joined, first by an Australian and then by an
American officer, each with an orderly, who had each separately come
out to try and find out the position of affairs. The situation was
rapidly explained to them, and was soon made clearer still by the
expected counter-attack from the Germans. Twice during the previous
week’s fighting, the enemy had regained this Ridge when it was held
in force. This time less than a dozen men successfully held it against
them, and although almost every one of the defenders was wounded, they
held out until relief came, several hours later.

For his part in this action Major Hotblack was awarded a bar to his
Military Cross. This was his last action in the war, as the wounds he
received on this occasion incapacitated him till the Armistice had been
signed.

It is rather interesting to note that this officer was wounded five
times during the course of the war--on four occasions in the head; but
so admirable is our hospital system that he is now practically none the
worse for his experiences.

On the extreme right of the battle the attack of the 9th Corps was a
complete success, the 46th Division particularly distinguishing itself
in the capture of Bellenglise.

  [98]“Equipped with lifebelts, and carrying mats and rafts, the 46th
  Division stormed the western arm of the Canal at Bellenglise and to
  the north of it, some crossing the Canal on foot bridges, which the
  enemy was given no time to destroy, others dropping down the sheer
  sides of the Canal wall, and, having swum or waded to the far side,
  climbing up the farther wall to the German trench lines on the
  eastern bank.”

The Tanks were, of course, unable to cross with their infantry. They
moved on Bellicourt, crossed over the tunnel at the nearest point, and
swung south, working down the further bank of the Canal and arriving
just in time to take part in the attack on Monchy.

Our success here was so complete that one division alone captured 4000
prisoners and seventy guns.

Many of these batteries were taken from the rear by Tanks and infantry
while they were still in action, the enemy not realising in the least
that they had been outflanked.


III

At the end of the day it was pretty clear what must be the ultimate
result of the battle. But our front was extremely ragged and the
breaches we had driven in the Hindenburg Line but narrow.

So for some days our attacks continued on all fronts; from north of
Cambrai, where the 7th Battalion Tanks and the Canadians met with a
desperate resistance, right down to our junction with the French 1st
Army south of St. Quentin.

With the exception of a party of six machines belonging to the 1st
Brigade, who helped in an attack just north of Cambrai, all the Tank
actions of this period were fought in the 4th Army area, where we were
busied in driving in the wedge whose thin end we had inserted with so
much effort on September 29.

On the 30th, twenty Tanks belonging to the 5th, 6th, 13th and 7th
Battalions fought in different groups, none with striking success, in
one or two cases owing to the fact that the fresh infantry who had been
brought up were unaccustomed to Tanks, and that liaison was therefore
defective.

The village of Bony, which had just been entered by the Armoured Cars
on the 29th, still held out stubbornly.

On October 1, Tanks of the 9th Battalion were engaged with the 32nd
Division in an attack on a part of the line near Joncourt. In this
action the Tanks made very successful use of smoke screens.

On the 2nd no Tanks fought, but on October 3 about forty machines went
into action.

As on the previous days, we met with stubborn resistance, and as on the
previous days, foot by foot, inch by inch, we pushed our line forward,
always patiently enlarging the width of the holes we had pierced.

A new attack on a large scale was now contemplated, and for this
assault the Tank Corps had to furnish between eighty and ninety
machines, some on the 3rd, some on the 4th Army front. Preparations
were immediately begun, and no Tanks fought on the 4th.

Our line, however, had just reached the outskirts of two large
villages, Montbrehain and Beaurevoir, and we were anxious not to begin
the day of our new attack with street fighting--of all forms of warfare
the most incalculable.

Therefore, the Australians and the 16th Tank Battalion attacked
Montbrehain, and after fighting a strenuous but brilliant little
action, captured it.

The last phase of the Cambrai-St. Quentin battle was at hand; nay more,
the last phase of the warfare we had known for nearly four years.

The next day we were to match our strength against that torn and
breached, but still formidable ruin, that had once been the Hindenburg
Line.




CHAPTER XXI

THE SECOND BATTLE OF LE CATEAU--THE RUNNING FIGHT


I

“TANK CORPS INTELLIGENCE SUMMARY, OCTOBER 8TH”

  “An attack was launched this morning between Cambrai and St.
  Quentin on a front of eighteen miles, which was entirely
  successful--all objectives being gained--in spite of obstinate
  machine-gun defence.

  “Heavy Tanks and Whippets co-operated.

  “The line now runs N. and E. of Niergnies--E. of Seranvillers
  and La Targette--Esnes Mill--E. edge of Esnes--through Briseux
  Wood--Walincourt--Audigny trench line to Walincourt Wood--W. of
  Walincourt--N. and E. of Serain--E. of Prémont--E. of Brancourt--E.
  of Beauregard.

  “Depth of penetration varies, the maximum being 6000 yards.

  “The French continued the attack on the southern portion of the
  battle front and made progress in the vicinity of Fontaine Utetre
  and Essigny le Petit.

  “A large number of prisoners have been taken, but the actual
  numbers are not yet known.

  “The enemy made a heavy counter-attack from the direction of
  Awoingt against our line between Niergnies and Seranvillers, and
  the situation at Forenville is not quite clear.

  “In this counter-attack the enemy used captured British Tanks.
  Seven appeared in the sunken road N.E. of Niergnies without any
  infantry support. Our infantry used enemy anti-Tank rifles, and
  four or five enemy Tanks are reported to have been put out of
  action.”

This was the form in which the news of what proved the last set
action of the war reached resting Tank Battalions, and the great Tank
organisation behind the lines.

The whole action had somehow seemed unusually dramatic. There was
now everywhere a sense of momentousness of events. We knew in our
hearts that the hour had come. Still, the enemy had so often revealed
unexpected strengths, we had so often been tricked into optimism,
and now we fought with a sort of surprised joy in thrusting home, of
feeling the German resistance really crumble under our blows.

Every time we struck we were feverishly impatient at our own weariness,
a weariness which delayed the next blow. We longed to be sure, to
strike again and again, no matter how, and so end the long nightmare.

All through that last month we hurried on, blind with fatigue, too
eager for the next battle to have been fought, too deeply concerned
with the culmination of the great drama, to care what had been the
details of our achievements in the last action.

It is difficult in attempting any chronicle of this period not to feel
again the impatience of the hour, or to achieve enough detachment to
describe the individual threads out of which the great pattern of
victory was woven.


II

To return to the attack of October 8.

Besides the very good action fought by Whippets of the 3rd and 6th
Battalions near Serain and Prémont, there were two particularly
interesting features in the attack: first, the action fought by the
301st American and 1st Tank Battalions; and, second, the German
counter-attack with Tanks which is mentioned in the Summary.

Nineteen Tanks of the 301st went into action opposite Serain, doing
great execution.

  [99]“In one railway cutting near Brancourt, which was a mass
  of machine-guns, I counted nearly fifty mangled Boches who had
  been caught in enfilade with case shot as the Tanks crossed the
  line. The infantry casualties were very low, and all agreed on
  the masterly way the American Tank gunners had dealt with M.G.
  opposition.

  “The _pièce de résistance_ of the battle was the performance of
  Major Sasse, D.S.O., for which he received his decoration.

  “As on a former occasion, he went into action in the Wireless Tank.
  After the capture of Brancourt he left his Tank this side of the
  village and went forward to reconnoitre. He eventually ascended
  the church tower in order to get a forward view of the battle.
  While doing this a very heavy bombardment of the village commenced,
  and Major Sasse noticed that the infantry had begun to retire.
  He accordingly descended and tried to find the officer in charge
  of the troops on the spot. Not being able to do this he assumed
  command himself, stopped the retirement and organised the troops
  as a defensive force round the outskirts of the village. Lewis
  guns were posted and the men ordered to resist any attempt on the
  part of the Boche to retake the village, should this be made. As
  was expected, a determined counter-attack developed, which was
  successfully beaten off by Major Sasse’s detachment. This occurred
  a second time, and Major Sasse sent off a wireless message for
  help. He was rescued some hours later from a somewhat precarious
  position by American reinforcements.”

It was to Tanks of the 12th Battalion that the interesting lot fell of
meeting captured British Mark IV. Tanks in action.

Four Tanks belonging to “A” Company were in the neighbourhood of
Niergnies when the enemy launched a strong counter-attack. The
battlefield was thick with smoke and it was not yet fully light, and
when in the half-dark the Tank crews and infantry saw four Tanks
advancing to meet them, they supposed that the strangers belonged to
“C” Company, who had been sent to execute an encircling movement, and
who had, they imagined, somehow been able to outflank the enemy with
extraordinary speed. “L 16,” commanded by Captain Rowe, was near a
farm named Mont St. Meuve when the Tanks appeared in sight, and the
foremost was within fifty yards before Captain Rowe realised that it
was an enemy machine. He immediately fired a 6-pounder shot at it which
disabled it, but almost at the same time “L 16” was hit by two shells,
one of which came through the cab, wounding Captain Rowe and killing
his driver. The Tank Commander immediately got his crew out and crossed
over to “L 19,” which was near at hand, and led it forward towards the
German machines, of whose presence it was still unaware. “L 19” had
already had five men wounded, had been on fire, and having no gunners
left, could not use its 6-pounders. Its Commander, Second Lieutenant
Worsap, however, nothing daunted, immediately engaged the enemy with
his Lewis guns until the Tank received a direct hit which set it on
fire a second time. There was nothing now to be done but to evacuate
the machine, and as the German counter-attack seemed to be succeeding,
Mr. Worsap blew up the wreck of his Tank.

“L 12,” the third Tank, a male, was hit and finally disabled before its
Commander and crew had discovered that the strange Tanks did not belong
to “C” Company. There remained “L 8” under Lieutenant Martell, but this
Tank had a leaky radiator and was almost out of water. It, too, had
been hit, and three of its Lewis guns put out of action. Lieutenant
Martell, however, sent his crew back, and he and an artillery officer
managed to get up to a captured German field gun, which the two
turned round and used against the enemy’s Tanks, almost immediately
obtaining a direct hit on one of them. Two of the German machines
were now accounted for. And now at last a genuine “C” Company Tank--a
female--appeared and finally drove or scared away the two remaining
German machines. The situation was restored, and the infantry, who had
retired before the counter-attack, went forward again and reoccupied
the ridge beyond Niergnies. A comparison of the British and German
accounts of this action is not unentertaining.


_German Wireless News_

  “During the heavy fighting south of Cambrai on October 8, German
  ... Tanks and a column of infantry advanced ... behind a wall of
  artificial fog. The German Tanks, which were feeling their way
  forward, surprised a large number of Englishmen who were standing
  in disordered groups. By means of machine-gun fire and Tank
  gunfire the English were driven back. The English troops on the
  eastern outskirts of Niergnies took to flight and evacuated. On
  the Cambrai-Crévecœur Road there were five English Tanks advancing
  in support of their own infantry. As they came into sight of the
  German Tanks the English Tanks stopped, and they were set on fire
  by their own crews.”

By the end of the day we had advanced and widened our line along
the whole front of the attack, and the next day was devoted to
exploitation.

[Illustration: HIS MAJESTY THE COLONEL-IN-CHIEF AND GENERAL ELLES]

                         SPECIAL ORDER NO. 18.

  By Major-General H. J. Elles, C.B., D.S.O., Commanding TANK CORPS
  in the Field.

                              18th October, 1918.

  1. His Majesty the King was graciously pleased to become
        COLONEL-IN-CHIEF of the Tank Corps on the 17th instant.

  2. The following telegram was sent on behalf of the TANK CORPS:

      “To H. M. the King,

        “The news that your Majesty has graciously consented to
        become Colonel-in-Chief of the Tank Corps has just been
        received here. All ranks are deeply sensible of this signal
        honour conferred upon the Corps and are determined to
        continue worthy of it.

                              GENERAL ELLES.

        “Advanced H. Q. Tank Corps.
        In the Field. 17th October.”

3. The following reply has been received:

      “To MAJOR-GENERAL H. J. ELLES.

        H. Q. Tank Corps, In the Field.

        “I sincerely thank you for the message which you have
        conveyed to me in the name of all ranks of the Tank Corps.

        “I am indeed proud to be Colonel-in-Chief of this great
        British organization invented by us which has played so
        prominent a part in our recent victories.

        “I wish you all every possible good luck.

                              GEORGE R. I., Colonel-in-Chief.

  Buckingham Palace.
  LONDON, 18th October.”

                      (Signed) H. J. ELLES, Major-General.
                              Commanding Tank Corps in the Field.


The enemy was in full retreat and a rapid advance met with the feeblest
opposition. The contemporary record in the Tank Corps Intelligence
Summary remarks this feature.

[Illustration: MANUFACTURE]

                              “_October 9._

  “A penetration of over six miles has been made towards Le Cateau,
  and in the area gained, twenty-six villages have been occupied.

  “Tanks again co-operated.

  “Shortly after midnight our troops commenced the attack N. of
  Cambrai, capturing Ramillies and securing a bridgehead over the
  Escaut Canal at Pont D’Aire.

  “The whole of Cambrai was occupied this morning....

  “Air reports state that there is great confusion on roads N.E.
  and S.E. of Le Cateau, and that our low-flying scouts have been
  shooting at record targets....

  “The number of prisoners taken in yesterday’s attack by the British
  Armies amounted to 6300, and by the French in the St. Quentin area
  1200. No detail yet received of captures to-day.”

The Battle of Cambrai-St. Quentin was at an end, and the Hindenburg
Line had now to all intents and purposes ceased to exist, broken as it
was on a front of nearly thirty miles.

Before the whole British forces in France, from north of Menin to
Bohain, seven miles north-west of Guise, open country stretched, uncut
by trench, unhung by wire. The time for exploitation had arrived.

Considering our comparative numerical weakness, the lateness of the
season and the nature of the country, to have fought their way so far
had been a notable performance. Now to carry out a rapid pursuit was
beyond even the endeavours of the infantry. For the German Army, though
beaten, was not yet broken.

  [100]“A pursuit by cavalry was unthinkable, for the German
  rearguards possessed many thousands of machine-guns, and as long
  as these weapons existed, pursuit, as cavalry dream it to be, was
  utterly impossible. One arm alone could have turned the present
  defeat into a rout--the Tank, but few of these remained, for since
  August 8 no less than 819 machines had been handed over to salvage
  by the Tank Battalions, and these Battalions themselves had lost
  in personnel 550 officers and 2557 other ranks, out of a fighting
  state of some 9500.”

The 3rd, 4th, 5th, 7th and 15th Battalions--or what was left of
them--had all to be withdrawn into G.H.Q. reserve on October 12.


III

THE BATTLE OF THE SELLE

As fast, however, as the weariness of our infantry and the fewness of
our Tanks allowed, we pursued the flying but still coherent German
Divisions.

Again and again the enemy tried to turn, to stand just so long behind
some natural defence as should enable him to organise his retreat. He
still had a hope that a shortened line might enable him to make a final
rally, if only, meantime, too headlong a flight had not reduced his
army to a mob, and if the advance of the Allies could be stemmed for a
little before the vital centre of Maubeuge.

Seven Tanks of the 5th Battalion had advanced with the French and the
9th Corps near Riquerval Wood; but the first action of this new type,
in which any considerable number of machines took part, was the Battle
of the Selle River, which began in the 4th Army area on October 17.

  [101]“Our operations were opened on October 17 by an attack by the
  4th Army on a front of about ten miles from Le Cateau southwards,
  in conjunction with the French 1st Army operating west of the
  Sambre and Oise Canal. The assault, launched at 5.20 a.m., was
  delivered by the 9th, 2nd American and 13th Corps.... The enemy was
  holding the difficult wooded country east of Bohain, and the line
  of the Selle north of it, in great strength, his infantry being
  well supported by artillery.”

The 4th was the Tank Brigade concerned.

The 1st Battalion was allotted to the 9th Corps on the right.

The 2nd American Corps in the centre fought as usual with the 301st
American Battalion.

On the left the 13th Corps had the 16th Battalion, while the 6th Tank
Battalion was in Army reserve.

The Germans had chosen their battle ground with great skill. They held
the right bank of the Selle, and the river itself, therefore, threaded
No-Man’s-Land. This particular choice of a defence was undoubtedly
dictated by a fear of Tanks. There had been heavy rain, and the river
was in flood.

  [102]“Very little was known of the stream, except that it varied
  every few yards in nature, breadth and depth; and the only way of
  establishing safe crossing-places for the Tanks, was by personal
  reconnaissance.

  “This work was done successfully by the R.O.’s of the 1st and 301st
  Battalions, which were fighting alongside each other.

  “The reconnaissance necessary on the front of the 301st promised
  to be extremely dangerous and the success rather doubtful, owing
  to the presence of several unlocated Boche posts on our side of
  the stream. It was a question of slipping through these unobserved,
  gaining the necessary information, and coming back again through
  their lines.

  “Lieutenant T. C. Naedale, Battalion R.O., undertook to do this
  in the company of an infantry guide from the sector. This officer
  walked down the stream 500 yards, literally under the noses of
  the Boche posts, and returned to our lines with the requisite
  intelligence. He was thus able to pick safe crossings for all his
  Tanks.”

At 5.30 a.m. on October 17, the fog was so thick that Tanks had to move
forward on compass bearings. The infantry could see nothing, and had,
in many cases, to rely almost entirely on the Tanks as guides. Every
Tank of the forty-eight carried a crib, and with their help, north of
St. Souplet and of Molain, both Tank Battalions crossed the river in
safety at the previously selected fords.

The Germans had clearly relied almost entirely upon the flooded river
for their defence, and it was only here and there that we met with any
opposition. Isolated posts would, however, occasionally hold out with
great vigour, and what with the fog and the irregular speed of our
advance, the whole battle was an exceedingly confused one. The enemy
was well supplied with artillery, and wherever the fog permitted made
good use of it.

At about 10 a.m. the infantry, who were badly held up by machine-guns
near Demilieue, summoned Whippets of the 6th Battalion to their help.
A number of machines immediately hurried up, but even then, so heavy
was the machine-gun fire, that it was only with great difficulty that
the infantry could advance even under cover of the Whippets. Just as
they were approaching the village, three Whippets were knocked out
in rapid succession by a single field gun. Deprived of the cover of
these machines, the infantry had to retire again. It was not till
considerably later that the village was taken.

On the 18th and 19th the infantry managed to make good progress, and
at 2 p.m. on the 20th we made another attack, still on the line of the
Selle, north of Le Cateau.

Only four Tanks of the 11th Battalion were employed. The enemy’s
resistance was serious, for he had been able to erect strong wire
entanglements along the greater part of the line. This time, there
being no available fords, the Tanks successfully crossed the river by
means of an under-water sleeper bridge, which the Sappers had secretly
constructed at night, the enemy being quite unaware of its existence,
until, to their dismay, they saw the Tanks crossing over it.

There was severe fighting round Neuvilly, Solesmes and Haspres, but we
gained all our objectives on the high ground east of the Selle, all the
four Tanks successfully reaching their final goal.

Our capture of these positions on the river Selle was immediately
followed up by a larger bid, this time for the general line running
from the Sambre Canal along the edge of Mormal Forest to the
neighbourhood of Valenciennes. We were to make a night attack on a
fifteen-mile line in the 4th Army area, the 9th, 5th and 13th Corps
being supported by thirty-seven Tanks from the 10th, 11th, 12th and
301st (American) Battalions.

Zero hour was 1.30 a.m. Unfortunately the hoped-for moonlight was
shrouded, and the night misty and dark. To add to our difficulties,
the enemy was shelling freely with gas. Gas-masks had to be worn, and
through them it was impossible to see anything. Consequently we did
not make much progress until dawn. But directly it was light we went
ahead, the Tanks had fine shooting at “ground game,” and a great amount
of case shot was fired, and both Tanks and infantry ultimately won
through to their objectives.

Next day the 17th Corps took up the attack in the 1st Army area, so
extending our line of assault a further five miles north to the Schele.
No Tanks, however, operated at this stage of the 1st Army’s offensive,
but six machines belonging to the 10th Battalion attacked near
Robewsart. One of these Tanks managed to explode a German ammunition
dump with a lucky shot from one of its 6-pounders. This threw the enemy
into great confusion, whilst the explosion of his own shells helped us
considerably with the killing.


IV

We had now reached another--the last--stage of the battle. The nature
of the terrain had begun to change, for we were travelling at last.

  [103]“Despite the unfavourable weather and the determined
  opposition at many points from the German machine-gunners, in two
  days our infantry and Tanks had realised an advance of five or six
  miles over difficult country.”

We had now reached the half wooded, half pasture and orchard country
which lay on the outskirts of the Forest of Mormal, “like fringe upon a
petticoat,” and the last of our battles had been fought amid the trees
of the Bois L’Evêque and of Pommereuil.

We were within a mile of Le Quesnoy, which lay in a clearing in the
Forest.

There was no chance of giving our machines an overhaul. It was
therefore in a state of mechanical “efficiency,” which a little while
before we should have said made any sort of fighting out of the
question, that most of the remaining Tanks gaily tackled this difficult
piece of the advance.




CHAPTER XXII

THE ROUT--MORMAL FOREST--THE BATTLE OF THE SAMBRE--THE ARMISTICE


I

  “Some greater issue was at stake, some mightier cause, than ever
  before the sword had pleaded or the trumpet had proclaimed.”

                                        DE QUINCEY.

On November 4, the 1st, 3rd and 4th Armies were to deliver an attack
on a combined front of about thirty miles, from the Sambre to the
north of Oisy and Valenciennes. The country across which our advance
was to be made was exceedingly difficult: in the south, the river
Sambre had to be crossed almost at the outset. In the centre the great
Forest of Mormal, though here and there thinned by German foresters,
still presented a formidable obstacle. In the north lay the strongly
fortified town of Le Quesnoy, which was defended naturally by several
streams which ran parallel to the line of our advance, offering the
enemy repeated opportunities for a successful defence.

On November 2, we fought a small action west of Landrecies. We were
anxious to improve our position near Happegarbes before the big attack
on the 4th.

Only three Tanks of the 10th Battalion took part.

Unfortunately, although we took all our objectives, the Germans
suddenly plucked up heart, launched a surprise attack, and we lost them
again before nightfall.

The Battle of Mormal Forest was the last set Tank attack of the War,
and for it we could only scrape together just thirty-seven machines.

Tank units were bled almost white. Sections took the place of
companies, companies of battalions, and Tanks were parcelled out in
such a way that the very most might be made of their scanty numbers.

At dawn, after an intense bombardment, Tanks and infantry moved forward
to the assault under a heavy barrage, and it was not long before they
had penetrated the enemy’s positions on the whole battle front.

On the right of the attack, zero was at 5.45. The 9th Corps, which, it
will be remembered, was supported by four sections of the 10th Tank
Battalion, pushed forward and captured Catillon, where the Tanks fought
a particularly good action. The infantry were able to cross the Sambre
at this place, capturing a lock some two miles to the south of it. By
two hours after zero two battalions of infantry were east of the river.

The Tanks with the 13th Corps were also extremely successful,
especially in the neighbourhood of Hecq, Preux and the north-western
edge of the Forest of Mormal.

An account of the fighting on this central part of the line is given in
the Tank Corps Intelligence Summary.

  “The early morning was fine and clear, but a dense mist came up
  with the dawn and persisted until about 8.30. In addition, the
  country S.W. of Mormal Forest is peculiarly enclosed with thick
  orchards, quick-set fences and hedgerow trees, confining visibility
  to no more than fifty yards or so, under the best conditions.
  The infantry largely depended on the Tanks to give them their
  direction, and many of the latter had to steer exclusively by
  compass. By this means they were able to keep approximately
  to their allotted routes, and were of considerable help to the
  infantry in breaking through the dense hedges (some wired) and in
  dealing with machine-guns. In places the enemy barrage came down
  heavily with a high proportion of gas, whilst elsewhere it was
  inconsiderable. Resistance also was unusually ‘patchy,’ some few
  M.G. posts holding out well, whilst many others, though well sited
  and camouflaged, were found not to have fired a round. A show of
  resistance was put up at Landrecies bridge by some 300 German
  infantry and machine-gunners, but they gave in when outflanked by
  the crossing of the canal on rafts further to the south. The enemy
  had lined some of the hedges with deep and very well camouflaged
  rifle-pits, which here and there were held in strength. The main
  body of the enemy, however, appears to have been withdrawn a
  kilometre or so in rear of his forward positions just prior to our
  attack. French inhabitants of the most forward villages state that
  he started withdrawing at five o’clock this morning. In a number
  of instances the enemy was found hiding, unarmed, awaiting an
  opportunity to surrender. In one village over fifty Germans emerged
  from the house cellars where they had been hiding together with the
  inhabitants. Other Germans attempted to hide themselves in trees
  and were dealt with with case shot. A number of anti-Tank rifles
  were found in rifle-pits, etc., but appear to have been made little
  or no use of. There were instances of detached field guns being
  sited to enfilade hedges and cover crests, but so far no reports
  have come in as to their effect--if any. One Brigade operating
  with Tanks is reported to have had over 350 prisoners through its
  cage before 11 a.m., including a Regimental Commander and part of
  his Staff, whilst one Division reported over 1000 prisoners by
  12.30. A German pigeon loft (complete with birds) was captured
  in Landrecies. Air visibility was nil until after 9 a.m., and
  communication therefore difficult.

  “_Later._--Prisoners now reported 10,000 with 200 guns.”

It was at Landrecies that three supply Tanks managed, despite their
almost complete lack of arms or armour, to take a most gallant and
effective part in the battle.

These three Tanks were working for the 25th Division, and were carrying
up material to rebuild one of the numerous bridges that the Germans
had destroyed; as they drew near their rendezvous they found that the
enemy was still holding the place in some strength, and had succeeded
in stopping the advance of our infantry. As the Tanks approached they
began to draw fire and their situation became precarious. With great
pluck and resource the Tanks decided to go on, and rely on their
appearance (which was similar to that of the fighting Tanks) to drive
the enemy from his position. One Tank became a casualty, but the other
two went straight for the enemy. Even when the Tanks got close up, the
Germans were still under the impression that they were being faced
by fighters, and part of the garrison put up their hands, whilst the
remainder fled.

With the 5th Corps, the 1st Company of the 9th Battalion encountered
stiff resistance, but nevertheless they pushed forward far into the
Forest of Mormal.

The Tanks were particularly active in the attack on Jolimetz, just
south of Le Quesnoy, when they and the 37th Division took upwards
of 1000 prisoners, and later in the afternoon and evening pushed on
into the heart of the Forest. North of them the New Zealanders had
surrounded Le Quesnoy by 8 a.m. Here also Tanks were operating.

By the end of the day we had made a five-mile advance, reaching the
general line Fesny-Landrecies--centre of Mormal Forest--and five miles
beyond Valenciennes.

  [104]“In these operations and their developments twenty British
  Divisions utterly defeated thirty-two German Divisions, and
  captured 19,000 prisoners and more than 450 guns. On our right the
  French 1st Army, which had continued the line of attack southwards
  to the neighbourhood of Guise, kept pace with our advance, taking
  5000 prisoners and a number of guns.

  “By this great victory the enemy’s resistance was definitely
  broken. On the night of November 4–5 his troops began to fall back
  on practically the whole battle front.”


II

But the Tank Corps was at last at an end of its resources both in
machines and in men.

Pending reinforcements from England, they could at the moment muster
but eight machines that could be sent after the flying enemy, and
therefore, though the Armoured Cars went on, it was on November 5 that
the last Tank action of the War was fought, when eight Whippets of the
6th Battalion took part in an attack of the 3rd Guards Brigade, on the
northern outskirts of the Forest of Mormal.

The weather was atrocious and the country most difficult for a combined
operation, for it was intersected by numerous ditches and fences, which
rendered it ideal for the rearguard actions which the Germans were now
fighting all along their front.

  [105]“At 10 a.m. on the morning of November 5 the 3rd Guards
  Brigade, having pushed through the 1st and 2nd Brigades, were
  ordered to continue the advance by bounds.”

[Illustration: THE WESTERN EDGE OF MORMAL FOREST]

[Illustration: A “WIRELESS” TANK]

No definite orders had reached the Whippets’ Company Commander as to
what part--if any--his machines were to play.

He and the General commanding the 3rd Guards Brigade, however, came to
the conclusion that in view of the nature of the ground and the fact
that the Bultiaux River would have to be crossed in the first stage of
the battle, the Whippets should lead the attack upon the second, third
and final objectives only.

Two Tanks proved unfit for action, owing to mechanical trouble.
The three Tanks which covered the advance of the Grenadiers found
themselves in a country of small orchards divided by extremely high
hedges, where it was most difficult to locate the enemy machine-guns
whose fire was here considerable.

The Whippets therefore worked up and down the hedges like ratting
terriers, being ordered to[106]“fire short bursts along them for moral
effect even when no enemy were visible.” This they did, and found a few
fleeting targets before returning to get in touch with the infantry.

Two Whippets which were co-operating with the Scots Guards met with a
good deal of opposition. Twice had they and the infantry attempted to
capture and consolidate high ground beyond the village of Buvignies.

The driver of the first Tank was hit as he was endeavouring to put
right a minor mechanical trouble, and the second Tank went on alone.

In attempting to run over an enemy rifle-pit, it ran on to a jagged
tree stump and was damaged, finally breaking down in the enemy’s lines
beyond Buvignies. [107] From accounts of civilians, who were behind
the enemy’s lines, it appears that the crew held out till midnight,
the Tank being then blown up.

  “They also reported that after the Tanks had been through Buvignies
  the enemy hurriedly departed, and also vacated the railway, which
  had been holding up the Grenadiers.”

The 3rd Guards Brigade pushed forward unopposed for a mile and a half
during the night, but when darkness came the four remaining Whippets
were ordered to rally.

  “It was decided not to use these four on the following day, and
  work was concentrated on getting fit the six Whippets which might
  be made available to trek or fight.”

For, though that through all this period we knew well enough that the
end had come, in these last few days of the War we acquired a new
tradition. It became the magnificent custom of the British Army to act
as though the War would go on for ever.

The spirit that says, “I’ve been lucky so far. Why tempt Providence
with the War won, anyway?” must have reared its head in every man.
But it was rigorously kept down, and never among the attacking troops
in these last tense days was there found any inclination to spare
themselves or to spoil our victory by undue chariness of life and limb.
Not only in the racking circumstances of the battlefield, but also
behind the lines, this new tradition was manifest, and after the 5th
the Tank crews were everywhere feverishly engaged, day and night, in
refitting and furbishing up their machines on the complete assumption
that they would surely be called upon to fight again. Everywhere, too,
the Staffs were busy endeavouring to build up an organised fighting
force from the scarred, battle-weary remnants of the Corps.

The Tank Corps’ record since August 8 was indeed a remarkable one.
There had been ninety-six days of almost continuous battle since that
great Tank attack, and in these ninety-six days about two thousand
Tanks and Armoured Cars had been engaged.

Nearly half this number of machines had been handed over to salvage. Of
these, 313 had been sufficiently badly damaged to be sent to Central
Workshops, who had repaired no less than 204 of them and reissued them
to battalions. Of the whole 887, only fifteen machines had been struck
off the strength as beyond repair.

The personnel, too, had been lamentably reduced. However, the total
strength of the Tank Corps on August 7, 1918, had been considerably
under that of a single infantry division, and in the old days of
the artillery battles, such as the First Battle of the Somme, an
infantry division often sustained 4000 casualties in twelve hours. In
comparison, the Tanks’ losses of just 3000 in three months, out of a
fighting strength of under 10,000, seem comparatively light. They were
heavy enough, however, effectually to cripple the Corps for several
weeks.


III

Meanwhile the last act of the great drama was being played out.

Though there were for the moment no Tanks to share in the culminating
glories, our forces were pushing forward along the whole front. On
November 6 and 7 the enemy’s resistance had very much weakened. Early
on the morning of the 7th the Guards entered Bavay; next day Avesnes
fell. Six cars of the Tank 17th Armoured Car Battalion here did
excellent service in conjunction with “Bethell’s Force,” the cars,
“full out,” putting roadside machine-guns out of action and in many
cases preventing the flying enemy from blowing up the crossroads behind
his rearguards. Hautmont was captured, and our troops reached the
outskirts of Maubeuge, the goal upon which our eyes had for so long
been fixed. To the north of Mons the enemy was now rapidly withdrawing.
All through the night of November 7–8 we could see the glare of burning
dumps behind the German lines, and could hear the irregular clamour
of their detonations. At Tournai the enemy abandoned his bridgehead
without a fight.

On the 9th the enemy was in full retreat on the whole front; the Guards
entered Maubeuge at the moment when the Canadians were approaching
Mons. The whole of our 2nd Army crossed the Schelde, and next day all
five British Armies advanced in line, preceded by cavalry, cyclists and
Armoured Cars.

Only round Mons was any opposition met with, and at dawn on November
11 the Third Canadian Division captured the town, killing or taking
prisoner the whole of the German garrison.

It was the last of the tasks of slaughter to which our hands were to be
forced.

For four days there had been a coming and going of envoys and of
messages. For four days men and women in England had listened and
waited, restless and sick with expectancy, with a sudden realisation of
their longing to emerge from the long nightmare.

On November 11, just after eleven in the morning, the church bells
were rung in every town and village at home; and in France the expected
message was quietly passed from mouth to mouth. There is no need to
describe a moment which no reader of this book will ever forget.




EPILOGUE


I

And what, the reader will ask, is the conclusion of the whole matter?

First, how far did Tanks really contribute to our overthrow of the
Germans?

Secondly, what would be the place of the Tank if another war broke out
within the next generation; and, thirdly, what place are Tanks going to
be given in the reconstituted British Army?

As far as they can be answered, we will reply to these questions in
order. For upon the performances of the Tanks in this war, will be--or
should be--based the answers to the other questions, and on this point
we propose to call the evidence of three or four expert witnesses.

For the rest, the reader has had an opportunity of studying a large
mass of evidence for himself.

He has seen how, when the line from Switzerland to the sea had been
formed, both armies sought some means of putting an end to the
stalemate.

How to both the Allies and the Germans the solution by artillery was
the first to occur. How, secondly, we and the Germans each according
to our national habits of mind, thought of another solution. The
Germans--who were chemists--of gas, used treacherously in despite of
signed undertakings to the contrary; we, who were mechanics, of a
self-propelled shield, from behind which we could direct an effective
fire.

He knows how gas was countered, after the first surprise, by
means of various air-filtering devices; but how the Tank gradually
revolutionised warfare, because there was no particular specific or
antidote to the Tank, which depended not so much upon surprise as
on the simple factors of its enormous fire power, and its ability
to surmount obstacles. For whether the troops attacked had fought
against Tanks before or no, the Tank crushed down wire and smothered
machine-gun fire just the same.

Marshal Foch is the first of our witnesses.

He sketches the evolution of the Tank, and describes the circumstances
which called it into being, in his foreword to the English translation
of his republished _Principles of War_. He has dealt with the old
slowness of “digging in.”

We translate his words literally:

  “The machine-gun and the barbed-wire entanglement have permitted
  defences to be organised with indisputable rapidity. These
  have endowed the trench, or natural obstacle, with a strength
  which has permitted offensive fronts to be extended over areas
  quite impracticable until this time.... The offensive for the
  time was powerless, new weapons were sought for, and, after a
  formidable artillery had been produced Tanks were invented--_i.e._
  machine-guns or guns protected by armour, and rendered mobile by
  petrol, capable, over all types of ground, to master the enemy’s
  entanglements and his machine-guns....

  “Thus it is the industrial power of nations that has alone
  permitted armies to attack, or the want of this power has reduced
  them to the defensive.”

Monsieur Loucheur--in January 1919 French Minister of Munitions--was a
strong advocate for Tanks in the French Army.

  “There are two kinds of infantry: men who have gone into action
  with Tanks, and men who have not; and the former never want to go
  into action without Tanks again.”

Sir Douglas Haig’s summing up in his Despatch, though necessarily
conservative, is not therefore the less significant:

  “Since the opening of our offensive on _August 8_ Tanks have been
  employed in every battle, and the importance of the part played
  by them in breaking the resistance of the German infantry can
  scarcely be exaggerated. The whole scheme of the attack of _August
  8_ was dependent upon Tanks, and ever since that date on numberless
  occasions the success of our infantry has been powerfully assisted
  or confirmed by their timely arrival. So great has been the effect
  produced upon the German infantry by the appearance of British
  Tanks that in more than one instance, when for various reasons real
  Tanks were not available in sufficient numbers, valuable results
  have been obtained by the use of dummy Tanks painted on frames of
  wood and canvas.

  “It is no disparagement of the courage of our infantry or of the
  skill and devotion of our artillery, to say that the achievements
  of those essential arms would have fallen short of the full measure
  of success achieved by our armies had it not been for the very
  gallant and devoted work of the Tank Corps, under the command of
  Major-General H. J. Elles.”

Lastly, what is the opinion of the enemy?

Herr Maximilian Harden in a speech upon the causes of the German
defeat, gave first place to the “physical shock of the Tank,” at which
“Ludendorff had laughed.”

Speaking for the Minister of War in the Reichstag, General Wrisberg
said:

  “The attack on August 8 between the Avre and the Ancre was not
  unexpected by our leaders. When, nevertheless, the English
  succeeded in achieving a great success the reasons are to be sought
  in the massed employment of Tanks and surprise under the protection
  of fog....

  “The American Armies should not terrify us.... More momentous for
  us is the question of Tanks.”

The G.O.C. of the 51st German Corps, in an Order dated July 23, 1918,
remarks: “As soon as the Tanks are destroyed the whole attack fails.”

On October 23 the German Wireless published the following statement by
General Scheuch, Minister of War:

  “Germany will never need to make peace owing to a shortage of war
  material.

  “The superiority of the enemy at present is principally due to
  their use of Tanks.

  “We have been actively engaged for a long period in working at
  producing this weapon (which is recognised as important), in
  adequate numbers.

  “We shall thus have an additional means for the successful
  continuance of the war, if we are compelled to continue it.”

The following passage occurred in a German Order issued on August 12,
1918:

  “It has been found that the enemy’s attacks have been successful
  solely because the Tanks surprised our infantry, broke through our
  ranks, and the infantry thought itself outflanked.”

The German Press was also very generally inclined to attribute the
German failure to the Allied use of Tanks, and their attitude is well
illustrated by the following paragraph which appeared early in October,
a time when German journalists seem to have been most carefully
instructed from official quarters. It was their task to prepare the
German people for surrender.

  “The successes which the Allies have gained since the First Battle
  of Cambrai do not rest on any superior strategy on the part
  of Foch or on superiority in numbers, although the latter has
  undoubtedly contributed to it. The real reason has been the massed
  use of Tanks. Whereas the artillery can only cut wire and blot
  out trenches with an enormous expenditure of ammunition, the Tank
  takes all these obstacles with the greatest of ease, and will make
  broad paths in which the advancing infantry can follow. They are
  the most dangerous foe to hostile machine-guns. They can approach
  machine-gun nests and destroy them at close range. The great
  danger of the Tank is obvious when one considers that the defence
  of the front battle zone chiefly relies on the defensive value
  of the machine-guns, and that the armour of the Tank renders it
  invulnerable to rifle fire, and that only seldom and in exceptional
  cases is machine-gun fire effective. The infantry is therefore
  opposed to an enemy to whom it can do little or no harm.”


II

The question of the place of Tanks in the next war has been answered
with the greatest emphasis by some enthusiastic advocates of this arm.

The possession of a superior weapon, they say, ensures victory to the
army which possesses it. In war, any army, even if led by a mediocre
General, can safely meet an army of the previous century, though the
old force be led by the greatest military genius of his age.

  [108]“Napoleon was an infinitely greater general than Lord Raglan,
  yet Lord Raglan would, in 1855, have beaten any army Napoleon could
  have brought against him, because Lord Raglan’s men were armed with
  the Minie rifle.

  “Eleven years after Inkerman Moltke would have beaten Lord Raglan’s
  army hollow, not because he was a greater soldier than Lord Raglan,
  but because his men were armed with the needle gun.

  “Had Napoleon, at Waterloo, possessed a company of Vickers
  machine-guns, he would have beaten Wellington, Blücher, and
  Schwartzenburg combined, as completely as Lord Kitchener beat the
  Soudanese at Omdurman. It would have been another ‘massacre of the
  innocents.’”

In every case, they say, the superior weapon would have defeated the
great tactician before he had had time to show his mettle. To repeat
the words of the German journalist: “Their infantry would be opposed to
an enemy to whom it could do little or no harm.”

We shall not discuss here the materialistic argument, except to say
that if it were entirely true, savages and badly-equipped Tribesmen
would never have completely beaten well-armed civilised troops. Yet
they have done so on frequent occasions. Witness the First Afghan War,
the Zulu Wars, the American-Indian Wars, and a host of minor actions.
Material only wins hands down when the _moral_ of the side possessing
it is at least fairly comparable to that of its opponents. Otherwise
Byzantium with its “Greek Fire” would have ruled the world.

According to this “material” school of thought, we have in Tanks our
superior weapon. They will be developed upon more than one line, and we
shall have cross-country equivalents for all arms and services except
heavy artillery, the Navy and the Air Force.

Mr. Hugh Pollard, writing in the _English Review_ of January 1919
states the case of the mechanical warfare and Tank enthusiasts, with
great vigour and ingenuity.

  “Even at present there is no effective answer to Tanks but
  possibly other Tanks, and in the Tank we have rediscovered a
  modern application of a very old principle. The Tank is the most
  economical method of using man-power in war, and it also affords
  the highest possible percentage of invulnerability to the soldiers
  engaged.

  “The armament problems of the future will be limited to three
  fleets of armoured machines, in which a very limited highly
  specialised number of men operate the largest possible number of
  weapons in the most effective way. Armoured fleets at sea, armoured
  aeroplanes, and armoured landships, or Tanks--these will be our
  forces for war.”

Tanks of various speeds and carrying various weapons, will replace
both infantry and cavalry, for one full size modern heavy Tank holding
eight men has the aggressive power of a hundred infantry with rifles,
bayonets, bombs and Lewis guns. The Whippet has about the same speed
and radius as cavalry, and one Whippet holding two men “could withstand
the onslaught of a cavalry regiment and kill it off to the last man
and the last horse without being exposed to the least danger or
inconvenience.” We shall soon regard the heroic tale of how men once
exposed their defenceless bodies to machine-gun fire and shells, and
depended for the élan of their assault upon the weight of human limbs
and the endurance of human muscles as almost legendary.

  “Most people think of a Tank as a rather ludicrous but effective
  engine of war. They look upon it as a mechanical novelty, and
  are content to assume that the Tank of to-day is not much of an
  improvement upon the earliest Tanks of the Somme battle, and that
  it is a war implement of indifferent importance. The real facts are
  entirely different, for the Tank of to-day is simply an infant, a
  lusty two-year-old, and there is no mechanical limit to its future.
  This may seem the remark of a fanatic, but it is perfectly true....

  “The Tank of to-day is a little thing compared with the obvious
  developments which will result in the Tank of the future, but even
  as it stands to-day it is the most economical fighting machine yet
  devised. A Tank uses petrol instead of muscle, and it extracts the
  highest possible fighting or killing value out of the men inside
  it; they can give their blows without being exposed to injury in
  return, and, above all things, they can fight while moving--a thing
  outside the powers of the infantry or guns of the land forces.”

The arguments of those who maintain that the Tank must always be
dependent upon the older arms are nearly all based upon the assumption
that the Tank is already limited. “It is pointed out that they cannot
cross rivers, that they are not proof against shell-fire, against
mines, against special forms of attack. The answer is that the Tank of
to-day may be subject to casualties, but all the skill and resources
of the German nation have failed to produce an effective answer to
Tanks, that river after river has been crossed, that line after line
of ‘impregnable’ defences have fallen, that deeply écheloned artillery
particularly arranged to fight Tanks has failed before Tank and
aeroplane attack. We come to a war of sea, air, and land fleets acting
in co-operation. Anti-Tank artillery is vulnerable to armoured planes.
The big commercial freight-carrying planes of the future might even fly
light Tanks into the heart of hostile territory. The unprotected men
and arms of the present day must disappear.”

And here another question is suggested--a question upon which the
civilian ought to satisfy himself. Let us for the moment assume that it
is superiority in weapons, not better generalship, not a more stubborn
“will to win,” that decides the fate of war.

What reason have we to suppose that it will be superiority in Tanks and
not in some other weapon, in aeroplanes for example, that will decide
the next conflict?

At present, when we try to imagine war upon a foreign army waged on one
side by air alone, we encounter a dozen mechanical difficulties even in
our attempted picture of the first stages: the enormous paraphernalia
of bases, the ground-staff, fuel, weather conditions, difficulties of
landing, and finally, what is perhaps the fundamental difficulty.

The aeroplane alone, like the big gun, is not an engine by whose means
it is possible to come into decisive contact with an enemy who chooses
to remain on the ground. The rabbits can always go to earth when they
see the gliding shadow of the hawk.

Till both sides are equipped solely for air combat, Tanks or infantry
will still be needed to play the part of ferret.

But these difficulties will almost certainly some day be overcome.

When they have been solved, then the day of the comparatively
cumbersome Tank, with its dependence upon shipping and rail transport
will be over. But that will not be in our time we are assured. To us,
therefore, “War in the Air” remains of a somewhat academic interest.
We have got to see to it that we survive the present.

For can the most optimistic of us truthfully declare, as he casts his
eye over the world, as he looks from Middle Europe to the Far East,
from Russia to Mexico, from the Balkans to Egypt, or from Asia Minor to
the confines of India, that we need not even consider the possibility
of a war within his own generation? Alas, no!

Now having for the moment dismissed the purely air war from our
calculations, we can be pretty certain that a war between civilised
countries fought within that period would not differ utterly from the
war which is just over, and that a war between a civilised and an
uncivilised country would differ from it only along well-known lines.

We have heard a good deal of evidence which makes it appear certain
that, every other factor having cancelled out, the fact that the French
and British possessed Tanks and the Germans did not, was just enough
to win the last war for the Allies. Let us then sedulously cultivate
the grub of the present that we may survive to see the more glorious
butterfly of the future--perhaps the aerial Tank. Shall we neglect the
Tank because it seems likely that in this (as please Heaven in most
other affairs) our sons will go one better?

The British and French led, and in 1919 still lead, absolutely with
Tanks.

If we like to carry on, we have such a start both in design and
manufacturing experience, that we could easily make it impossible for
any other nation to draw abreast of us during the period after which we
are assuming the “Tank Age” in military evolution may conceivably be
over.

It is, of course, impossible to be too discreet as to the new machines
which have already been made and tested, or as to the new projects
which exist.

Perhaps the position can be best indicated by saying that progress has
been so rapid of late that those who know, would probably be delighted
to sell any number of Mark V. Tanks to a prospective enemy.


III

The present writers are ignorant whether we have determined to keep
our lead or no. Shall we have the foresight, when it comes to the
remodelling of the Army, to give to Tanks the place they ought to hold
in it? Shall we be willing to spend money on experiments, money which
we must spend if we want to keep that lead? Will the Tanks be given
the facilities for both mechanical and tactical training that they
ought to have? We may so easily slide back into our old groove. It is
always hard to turn to new ways, and to give a preponderating place in
the “New Model” to Tanks, would certainly be to effect a very radical
change. There does seem to be a certain fear that the Army and the
public may feel that the Tanks are all right for War, but hardly the
thing for soldiering.

And yet how well the requirements of a strong force of Tanks would in
reality fit the kind of framework which the wisest minds seem agreed
should be our Army of the future. We ought to have, they say, a small
and highly specialised Standing Army, and behind that a vast Citizen
Army on the basis of the Territorial system. What weapon could be
more suitably added to the gun and the aeroplane than the Tank in the
Regular Army? Our Standing Army would thus consist of a nucleus of
mechanical experts.

Nor need the question of finance ever rise spectre-like between us and
the idea of a strong force of Tanks, for the Tank is an absurdly cheap
weapon compared with its co-efficient of infantry.

But there is another direction in which, if it claim any considerable
place in our Standing Army, the Tank must make good. That army may at
any moment be called upon to undertake police work in any part of the
world.

The Tank, even the old Mark I., is, as we saw at Gaza, suitable for
desert warfare. The Mark V. and Whippets with General Denikin’s force
in Russia have been prodigiously successful, and there are probably few
species of campaign against a semi-civilised enemy in which the newer
“Medium” Tanks would not do admirably.

Another point is that “minor wars” are fought by us with as much
avoidance of bloodshed as is compatible with the bringing of our
opponents to reason.

A weapon which admittedly affected the _moral_ even of admirably
disciplined troops like the Germans to a phenomenal degree, is
particularly well adapted to this purpose.

It is infinitely more humane to appal a rioter or a savage by showing
him a Tank than to shoot him down with an inoffensive looking
machine-gun.[109]

There is yet one final consideration.

The reader may still very properly object: “Though the Tank may, as
it rather begins to appear, have been the decisive factor in the last
War, and though it might be very convenient to use it again, before
we put our money on it, literally and metaphorically, for the future,
are we sure that it is a weapon which suits the British soldier? Time
was when at the direction of Military Experts we spent a great deal of
money upon the building of forts at home and abroad which were never of
the slightest use to any one, because they did not suit our style of
fighting. What reason have we to suppose that we shall like the Tank as
a permanent addition on a large scale to the equipment of our Army?”
The present authors consider this line of criticism a very proper one.
They differ from the “hardshell” advocates of the superior weapon in
considering it of the greatest importance that the balance and poise
of the broadsword should suit the hand that is to wield it. But they
believe that the Tank, like the ship and the aeroplane, is a weapon
peculiarly suited to the British temperament, and that fundamentally it
was for that reason that we, and not some other nation, first evolved
it. For good or ill, our Commanders both on land and sea have certain
peculiarities. Our men dislike standing on the defensive. They hate
digging, and in the present War were beaten by the Germans every time
at this particularly unpopular form of activity. Also, almost worse
than digging, do they hate carrying things on their backs, and we are
noted among all nations as the least tolerant of burdens. All these
peculiarities have filled the ranks of the Navy and of the Cavalry,
and all these peculiarities are suited by the aeroplanes and the Land
Ships. Our Commanders, like their men, prefer to be the attackers, and
like a war of movement. Almost the whole creed of Nelson, our most
popular fighting-hero, was expressed in his assertion that the first
and last duty of an Admiral was to find out the enemy’s fleet and to
attack it, and in his famous signal, “Engage the enemy more closely.”

Further, our leaders particularly and temperamentally dislike a large
butcher’s bill. It was, indeed, their extreme reluctance to send
unprotected men to meet the hail of bullets from German machine-guns,
that lay behind most of the ostensible reasons for which the Tanks were
first given a trial. It was a deciding factor. We may even perhaps say
without seeming fantastic that it was their inhumanity which cost the
Germans the War. They had no bowels of compassion, and were just as
ready to send the “infantry equivalent” (say seventy unprotected men)
over the top as they were to put in seven men enclosed in armour. To
them it was the coldest question of military expediency. Purely upon
military considerations they decided against the seven clad in armour.
Our Commanders, though in theory they were inclined to agree with the
German Higher Command, though they recognised the ultimate cruelty of
the policy of “cheap war,” and knew, with Nelson, that they had not
come to the Western Front to preserve their lives, were yet tempted by
the idea of using steel and petrol in place of flesh and blood. More
than once in the course of the chequered career of the Tanks it was
this consideration which saved the Corps from extinction.

But it is not, of course, enough that the Tank offers protection to
those who fight in it. A trench or a hole in the ground will do the
same. But the Tank is essentially a mobile weapon of _offence_. It is
the weapon for the nation which does not fight willingly, but when it
fights, fights to win, and to win quickly with as little bloodshed as
possible. It is the weapon for men who, if they must fight, like to
fight like intelligent beings still subjecting the material world to
their will, and who are most unwillingly reduced to the rôles of mere
marching automata, bearers of burdens and diggers of the soil, rôles
from which the patient German did not seem averse.


IV

The creed of the present writers can be very briefly summarised. A
considerable amount of evidence points to the conclusion that in the
phase at which military science has arrived, and at which it will
probably remain for at least a generation, a superior force of Tanks
can always tip the scales of the military balance of power.

Within the period of a generation, a time may again come when we shall
have to defend our lives and our liberties. We lead the world in the
design and manufacture of Tanks. Let us not abandon that lead in the
production and use of a vital weapon.

We know too well the tragic cost of one day of war, and it has been
said that had we been visibly prepared the Germans would not have
attacked.

Obviously we cannot be going to fall again so quickly into an old
error. We certainly intend to be armed, but who can say that through
sheer absence of mind it will not be with arquebuses? Surely not for
the sake of Army precedent, for the sake of emphasising our pacific
intentions, for the sake of saving a little money, or even--dearest of
all--for the luxury of “not bothering” about our Army, must we lose our
present unparalleled position of advantage. This advantage is not only
a material one. The Tanks are accustomed to win. Do not let us throw
away a fine tradition of victory.

Of all that, in our agony of striving we gained by the way, let us lose
nothing.

[Illustration: _TANK OPERATIONS._

AUGUST, SEPTEMBER, OCTOBER & NOVEMBER, 1918.

                                _NOTE._

  Thick black lines indicate position of British line on dates noted.
  Red wash indicates areas in which Tanks operated, with numbers of
  Tanks operating and date.

  Red lines indicate the ground gained on day of Tank operations.
  Thick black dotted lines indicate army boundaries.

                                        Headquarters
                                            Tank Corps




INDEX


  Acheux, 72

  Achicourt, 94

  Achiet-le-Grand, 344

  Achiet-le-Petit, 337, 340

  Adelpare Farm, 282, 284

  Albert, 255, 288, 341

  Allenby, General, 230

  American Tanks, 191, 218–223
    in Second Battle of Cambrai, 371–374
    in Battle of the Selle, 386–390

  Amiens, Battle of, 288–322
    the town, 261, 265, 268

  Anneux, 367

  Archbald, Corporal, S., D.C.M., 252

  Arival Wood, 366

  Armin, General von, 126

  Arnold, Lieutenant C. B., 303–309

  Arrachis Wood, 284

  Arras, Battle of, 89–109

  Auchonvillers, 72, 259

  Auchy, 252

  Australians, and the Tanks, 106, 272–289, 297–300, 310–314

  Australian co-operation with the French, 280

  Aveluy Driving School, 256

  Avesnes, 400


  Bacon, Admiral, 35, 120

  Bailleul, 252

  Baker-Carr, Colonel, 108, 149, 178

  _Ballon d’Essai_, 272

  Bapaume, Battle of, 334–340
    the town, 254, 348

  Battalion Histories, quotations from:
    “B” 3rd Battalion, 114;
    3rd Battalion, 139, 258, 302, 339;
    7th Battalion, 148;
    “F” 6th Battalion, 176;
    13th Battalion, 194;
    5th Battalion, 251;
    2nd Battalion, 254;
    1st Battalion, 260, 266;
    8th Battalion, 274;
    13th Battalion, 297;
    14th and 1st Battalions, 301,
    A Battalion History, 311;
    13th Battalion, 342;
    15th Battalion, 350;
    6th Battalion, 353, 396–397;
    11th Battalion, 366;
    15th Battalion, 367.
    (_See also_ Brigade and Unit Histories.)

  Bavay, 400

  Bayliss, Second Lieutenant, 253

  Bayonvillers, 299

  Beaucamp Ridge, 365

  Beaucourt, 73, 301

  Beaufort, 303, 313

  Beaumont-Hamel, 55, 68, 71, 74, 258

  Beaurevoir, 379

  Bellenglise, 370, 377

  Bellicourt, 362, 370, 371, 375

  Belloy, 271

  Bermicourt, 77, 108, 110, 196, 200, 269

  Béthune, 268

  Beugnâtre, 348

  Bihucourt, 344

  Bingham, Captain, M.C., 251

  Birly, Captain, Oswald, 363

  Blangy, 254

  Bohain, 385

  Bois d’Abbé, 266

  Bois d’Aquenne, 265

  Bois de Harpon, 282

  Bony, 378

  Bourgon, General, 286

  Bourlon, Wood and Village, 162, 177, 183–185, 187, 362, 368

  Bouzencourt, 259

  Bradley, Colonel, 46–59

  Brancourt, 382

  Bray, 255, 341, 347

  “Bridge of Tanks,” 364

  Brie, 249

  Brigade Histories, quotations from:
    5th Brigade, 273, 298;
    A Brigade, 356, 357–360.
    (_See also_ Battalion and Unit Histories.)

  Broome, General, 149

  Brough, Colonel, 58

  Brown, Captain F. C., M.C., 262

  Bryce, Lieut.-Colonel, 299

  Buchan, Colonel: _History of the War_, quotations from, 68, 125–127,
            225, 246.

  Bucquoy, 271, 335

  Bullecourt, 105–108, 244

  Bultiaux River, 397

  Buvignies, 398

  Bung, General Sir Julian, 160, 181


  Cachy, 262

  Caix, 250

  Cambrai, First Battle of, 160–184
    German Counter-attack at, 185–189
    Second Battle of, 361–379

  Canal du Nord, 162, 363–368

  Cantaing, 181

  Capper, General, 86

  Carney, driver, 303–308

  Carter, Colonel, 270, 290

  Carter, Second Lieutenant, 253

  Cartigny, 248

  Cassell, Second Lieutenant, 302

  Cérisy Valley, 292, 298

  Ching, Second Lieut. S. S., 103

  Chipilly, 312

  Chuignies, 343

  Chuignolles, 309, 342, 343

  Churchill, Mr., 34–36, 38

  Cockcroft, 149

  Colincamps, 258

  Contay, 270, 283

  Courage, Brigadier-General, 186, 280–283

  Courcelles, 337, 344

  Croisilles, 107, 346


  Dalton, Captain, 285

  Dawson, Second Lieutenant, 253

  Debeney, General, 281, 287

  Demilieue, 388

  Deniken, General, 413

  Denny, Colonel, M. C., M. P., 314, 371

  Desert Wood, 168

  Diplock, Mr., 31–34

  Domeny, 315

  Drocourt-Quéant Line, breaking, 341–355

  Duel between Tanks, First, 263

  Dummy Tanks, 110

  Dury Ridge, 354


  Eade, Lieutenant Percy, 299

  Ecoust, 350

  Edwards, Second Lieutenant, 277

  Elles, General, 80, 85, 137, 160, 171–175, 178, 184, 223, 237 257,
            264, 281, 404

  Epehy, Battle of, 356–360
    the Town, 248, 356

  Epinoy, 369

  Erin, 119, 196

  Estienne, General, 210–218

  Etinehem, 314

  Exploits of Individual Tanks, 63, 99, 103, 139–142, 248, 285, 299,
            301–308, 348, 367


  Fampoux, 347

  Fanny’s Farm, 114

  Faucourt, 309

  Favreuil, 348

  Fesny, 395

  Fifth Army Headquarters, adverse report of, 145–146

  Fighting Side, 46, 190

  Flers, 63

  Flesquières, 173, 177, 188, 363, 365

  Fleury Redobut, 99

  Foch, Marshal, on the Tanks, 403

  Fontaine-Notre-Dame, 182, 187, 367

  Forsyth-Major, Major, 225

  Framerville, 311

  Frémicourt, 348

  French Tanks Corps, 209–218

  Fresnoy, 357, 359

  Frezenberg, 142, 145, 152

  Fuller, Lieut.-Colonel, 165


  Gauche Wood, 187

  Gaza, Second and Third Battles of, 224–234

  German Press, and the Tanks, 405

  German Tanks, fights with, 261, 383

  Germans and the Tanks, 55, 64, 106, 117, 323–333

  Ginchy, 61

  Glencorse Wood, 142, 152

  Gomiécourt, 344

  Gonnelieu, 369

  Gould, Second Lieutenant, 301

  Gouzeaucourt, 185, 362

  Graincourt, 177, 179, 363

  Groves, Captain, 266

  Gueudecourt, 70

  Guillemont, 359, 371

  Guise, 385


  Haig, Sir Douglas, despatches of, 41, 65, 128, 143, 159, 177, 186,
            268, 316, 323, 355, 361, 370, 377, 387, 390, 396, 404

  Haldane, Lieut.-General Aylmer, 108

  Hamelincourt, 344

  Hamel Wood and Village, 274, 278

  Hangard Wood, 263, 267

  Hankey, Brigadier-General, 293

  Hankey, Colonel Sir Maurice, 34

  Happegarbes, 392

  Happy Valley, 347

  Harbonnières, 250, 299

  Harden, Herr Maximilian, on the Tanks, 404

  Hardress-Lloyd, Brigadier-General, 318

  Hargicourt, 358

  Harpon Wood, 282

  Harp, the, 97

  Haspres, 389

  Hatton-Hall, Captain, 373, 382, 387

  Hautmont, 400

  Havrincourt, 161, 168, 177, 184

  Haynecourt, 369

  Hazebrouck, 268

  Hébuterne, 258

  Hecq, 393

  Hedecourt, 105

  Hedges, Second Lieutenant, W. R., 358

  Henriques, Captain, 51, 60

  Herleville Wood, 342

  Hervilly Wood, 248

  Hetherington, Major, 31, 36

  Hickson, Second Lieutenant, 338

  High Wood, 66

  Hillock Farm, 149

  Hotblack, Major, D.S.O., M.C., 75, 80, 120, 293, 375

  “Hush Operation,” proposed, on the Belgian coast, 118–123


  Ignaucourt Valley, 302

  Inchy, 368

  “Instructions for Training of Tank Corps in France,” 202–207

  Inverness Copse, 153


  Jerk House, 153

  Johnson, Lieut. Col. Philip, 120

  Jolimetz, 395

  Jones, Second Lieutenant, 267

  Juniper Cottage, 154


  Kemmel, 253, 291

  Knoll, The, 359, 362, 369


  La Fère, 244

  Lagnicourt, 352

  Lamotte, 299

  Landrecies, 392–395

  Langemarck, 148

  La Signy Farm, 72

  Lateau Wood, 175

  Latham, Sergeant F., M.M., 102

  La Vacquerie, 187

  Le Cateau, Second Battle of, 380–386

  Le Maistre, General, 270

  Le Quesneu, 301

  Le Quesnoy, 310, 390, 395

  Les-Trois-Boqueleaux, 282, 284

  Le Tréport, 200

  Lewis Gun Detachments, 251

  Lihons, 312, 315

  Lipsett, Major-General, 293

  Littledale, Sergeant: Account of Tank Training at Bermicourt, 77–80

  Logeast, Wood, 340

  Longâtte, 349

  Loop, The, 57–60

  Losses of the Tank Corps, 268–269

  Loucheur, M., on the Tanks, 403

  Luce River, 292

  Luck, Second Lieutenant C. W., 367

  Ludendorff, General, and the Tanks, 319, 325

  “Lusitania” Tank, Exploit of, 99, 103

  Lyon, Private W., M.M., 252


  Macavity, Major, 363

  Machine Gun Corps, Heavy Section of, 50
    Heavy Branch of, 80

  Mailly-Raineval, 282

  Mailly-Maillet Wood, 258

  Marcelcave, 298

  March, 1918, British Retreat of, 243–264

  Marcoing, 187

  Marcourt, 250

  Maricourt, 254

  Martell, Lieutenant, 384

  Martinpuich, 61

  Marwitz, General von der, 185

  Masnières, 175, 185

  Masvillers, 250

  Maubeuge, 289, 386, 400

  Maxse, General, 149

  McFee, Mr., 34

  McLagan, Major-General E. G. S., 321–322

  Mecredy, Second Lieutenant C., 286

  Menin, 385

  Mercatel, 341

  Merlaincourt, 250

  Merlimont, 202

  Merville, 256

  Messines, Battle of, 110–117

  Meteren, 252

  Metz, 185

  Mitchell, Lieutenant, 262

  Molain, 388

  Monash, General, 292, 314

  Monchy, 104, 108, 347, 377

  Mons, 400

  Montbrehain, 379

  Mont des Cats, 253

  Montdidier, 288

  Mont du Hibou, 149

  Mont Rouge, 254

  Morcourt, 292, 298

  Moreuil, Battle of, 280–287

  Mormal Forest, 389–396

  Moroccans, and Tanks, 267

  Mory Copse, 347

  Moyenneville, 335, 340

  Murray, General, 226

  “Musical Box” Tank, adventures of, 303–308


  Naedale, Lieutenant T. C., 374, 388

  Neuve Eglise, 252

  Neuville-Vitasse, 104, 347

  Neuvilly, 389

  Nieppe Forest, 256

  Niergnies, 383

  Noel, Sergeant J., D.C.M., 107

  Norton, Major, 256

  Nutt, Major, 225


  Oisy, 392

  O’Kelly, Colonel, 250

  Oosthoek Wood, 130

  Oosttaverne, 114


  Palestine, Tanks in, 224–234

  Pankhurst, Mrs., 38

  Passchendaele, 143, 156, 159

  Pear-Shaped Trench, 274

  Peizière, 248

  Péronne, 292

  “Pill-Boxes,” 127, 148–151

  Pitt, Lieutenant, 251

  Poelcapelle Village, 154–158

  Poelcapelle Road, Disaster on, 157

  Pollard, Hugh, on the Future of Tanks, 408

  Ponsonby, General John, 178

  Pozières, 61

  Prémont, 381

  Premy Chapel, 366

  Preux, 393

  Proyart, 309, 314


  Quadrilateral, 61, 357, 359

  Quennemont Farm and Ridge, 359, 362, 369, 375


  Ravenel, 270

  Rawlinson, General Sir Henry, 320

  Reconnaissance Branch, 29

  Reconnaissance Officer, Narrative of, 256

  Reconnaissance Service, 80, 133

  Rees-Williams, Lieutenant O. L., 348

  Renouf, Major, 46

  Reutelbeek, 154

  Ribbans, gunner, 303–308

  Ribecourt, 360

  Riddle, Second Lieutenant, 367

  Riencourt, 105

  Riquerval Wood, 386

  Robertson, Captain, V.C., 155

  Roeux, 107

  Ronssoy, 357

  Rosières, 312

  Rossignol, 259

  Rowe, Captain, 383

  Rumilly, 175


  St. Julien, the town, 142, 148, 158
    Tanks’ Success at, 136

  St. Léger, 107

  St. Martin’s Wood, 342

  St. Pol, 268, 291

  St. Quentin, 244

  St. Quentin Canal, 369–373

  St. Quentin Wood, 360

  St. Ribert Wood, 282

  St. Souplet, 388

  Sambre and Oise Canal, 387

  Sambre, the River, 392

  Sasse, Major, D.S.O., 382

  Sauchy-Lestrée, 368

  Saunders, Lieutenant, 352

  Sauvillers, 282, 284

  “Savage Rabbits,” 237

  Schele, The, 390

  Scheuch, General, on the Tanks, 405

  Selency, 357, 359

  Selle, Battle of the, 386–391

  Sensée Valley, 349, 252

  Serain, 381

  Seranvillers, 175

  Sewell, Lieutenant C. H., V.C., 349

  Skeggs, Major, 366

  Smallwood, Second Lieutenant G. F., 358

  Smith, Captain G. A., 350

  Smith, Second Lieutenant Henderson, M.C., 295

  Soldier’s Treachery, a, 129

  Solesmes, 389

  Somme, Battle of the, 57–65

  _Spectator_, on the Battle of Gaza, 233

  Staden, 143

  Steenbeek, 133, 137, 142

  Stern, Sir Albert, 37, 44, 84, 87

  Stewart, Ian, 257

  Storm, Second Lieutenant, 251

  Strachan, Captain C. H., 353 46, 50, 53

  Swinton, General E. D., 31–34, 38, 39


  Tactics, new, 246

  Tanks, inception of the, 25
    Different types of, 26
    Uses of, 27–28
    Training of the crews of, 30
    Pre-1914 designs for, 31
    First steps in designing of, 32
    War Office and the, 33–39
    Admiralty and the, 33–41
    Further steps in progress of, 41–56
    150 sanctioned, 53
    Production, problem of, 81
    Mechanical War Supply Department, 44, 82
    Tank Committees, 86
    Mark I. Tanks, 40, 44, 49, 62, 90, 114
    Mark II. Tanks, 114
    Mark IV. Tanks, 111, 117, 193, 194
    Mark V. Tanks, the uses of, 27–30, 193, 269
    Mark VI. Tanks, 193
    Whippets, 193
    Fascines, manufacture of, 164
    Cribs, 269
    Central workshops, 195, 199, 269, 399

  Tank actions, minor, 270

  “Tank Corps Intelligence Summary,” 380, 385, 393

  Tank Commanders, Maintenance Course, etc., for, 203–207

  Tank Crew, Military History of Member of, 199–202

  Tank, itinerary of a, 196–199

  Tank Officers, narrative by, 71, 94, 96, 178–181, 284

  Tanks: destroying, 249
    future of, 402–416

  Tennyson-d’Eyncourt, Sir Eustace, 36, 87

  Thetford, 48

  Thiepval, 68

  Tournai, 400

  Triangle Farm, 149, 153

  Tritton, Mr., 36

  Tulloch, Major, 31–35

  Tunnelling Company (184th), work of, 131


  “Unditching Beam,” 131

  Unit Histories, quotations from, 357–360
    (_See also_ Battalion and Brigade Histories.)

  Uzielli, Lieutenant, C. F., 350


  Vaire Wood, 274, 278

  Valenciennes, 389, 392, 395

  Van Zeller, Second Lieutenant, T. E., M.C., 249

  Vaulx-Vraucourt, 350

  Vauvillers, 311

  Vaux, 280

  Vendhuille, 370

  Villeret, 356

  Villers Bretonneux, 251, 261–265, 272, 295

  Villers Guislain, 187, 369

  Vimy, the village, 98
    Canadians at, 98


  Wailly, the town, 108, 202
    training ground at, 108

  Wanbeke, 116

  Warfusée, 251, 299

  Warvillers, 303, 313

  Watson, Major, on Battle of Bullecourt, 106

  Weber, Second lieutenant, 99

  _Weekly Tank Notes_, quotations from, 54, 125, 126, 135, 149, 184,
            260, 275, 278, 293, 303–309, 330, 386, 406

  West, Captain Richard Annesley, D.S.O. 337

  West, Lieut.-Colonel R. A., D.S.O., M.C., 352

  Westhoek, 143

  Whatley, Sergeant, 367

  Whyte, Second Lieutenant, M.C., 251

  Wig, Comedy of a, 176

  Wilkes, Major G. L., D.S.O., 158

  Williams, Major-General, 108

  Wilson, Lieutenant, 266

  Wilson, Major, 36

  Wool, 199, 207, 238

  Worsap, Second Lieutenant, 383

  Wrisberg, General, on the Tanks, 404–405

  Wurst Farm, 154

  Wytschaete, 114, 128


  Ypres Salient, sand model of, 134

  Ypres, Third Battle of, 124–159

  Yvrench, training center at, 57


  Zonnebeke, 152




FOOTNOTES


[1] “I am building secure and covered chariots which are invulnerable,
and when they advance with their guns into the midst of the foe even
the largest enemy masses must retreat, and behind them the infantry can
follow in safety and without opposition.”

[2] It differed from an ordinary chariot in that the two little fat
hollow-backed horses, which are depicted as providing the motive power,
were like the crew, enclosed within the wooden armour.

[3] It appears to have been the Committee which investigated Mr.
Diplock’s machine, with some additional members.

[4] Although the appeal was necessarily tentative and unofficial,
and no details of the nature of the work could be given, sixty women
immediately volunteered.

[5] Major Renouf.

[6] Major Renouf.

[7] Most of these Tanks were training machines, in the sense that their
“armour” was boiler-plate instead of hardened steel.

[8] Colonel Swinton.

[9] Captain Henriques.

[10] From _Weekly Tank Notes_, a confidential official periodical for
private circulation.

[11] _W.T.N._

[12] See Plate, Chapter VIII. (An unannotated air photograph of badly
crumped ground.)

[13] Among other Army Commanders was General Sir H. S. Rawlinson,
who was later to be so good a friend to the Tanks. On this occasion,
however, it is said that their performances left him completely cold
and unconvinced.

[14] Captain Henriques.

[15] Sergeant Littledale of the Tank Corps writing in the _Atlantic
Monthly_.

[16] Sergeant Littledale of the Tank Corps writing in the _Atlantic
Monthly_.

[17] The progress of this decision has been slightly telescoped, the
“operative” resolutions only being recorded, and the story of a good
deal of proposal and counter-proposal omitted.

[18] The list was as follows:

    _Chairman._--Major-General Sir J. Capper.
    _War Office._--Lieut.-Colonel Sir J. Keane.
                   Lieut.-Colonel Mathew-Lannaw.
    _Ministry of Munitions._--Lieut.-Colonel Stern.
                              Sir Eustace Tennyson d’Eyncourt.


[19] Achicourt.

[20] Letter from a Tank officer dated “April 9, evening.”

[21] Letter from an eye-witness written on the evening of April 9.

[22] The Harp.

[23] Major Watson, the Tank Company Commander, writing in _Blackwood’s
Magazine_.

[24] “B” (2) Battalion History.

[25] _W.T.N._

[26] Official paper.

[27] Indirect fire may be defined as fire directed towards the spot
where you believe the enemy to be. Fire is called “direct” when the
target can be seen.

[28] Mr. Buchan’s _History of the War_.

[29] _W.T.N._

[30] Mr. Buchan’s _History of the War_.

[31] _W.T.N._

[32] Sir Douglas Haig’s Despatch.

[33] The size of these dumps was now always computed in “Tank Fills.”

    1 fill consisting of:
        60 galls. of Petrol.
        10 galls. of Oil.
        20 galls. of Water.
        10 lb. of Grease.
        10,000 rounds of S.A. Ammunition for a Female Tank,
    or
        200 rounds of 6-pdr. Ammunition
    and
       6000 rounds of S.A. Ammunition for a Male.


[34] _W.T.N._

[35] 3rd Battalion History.

[36] From Sir Douglas Haig’s Despatch.

[37] From the History of 7th Battalion.

[38] _W.T.N._

[39] _W.T.N._

[40] The second Tank detailed for this strong point had--in common with
the two reserve Tanks--bellied or become ditched on the way up.

[41] Official Summary.

[42] Major Wilkes was awarded the D.S.O. for this piece of work.

[43] Sir Douglas Haig’s Despatch.

[44] “A” Battalion was borrowed from 2nd Brigade.

[45] From “F” (6th) Battalion History.

[46] _W.T.N._

[47] Sir Douglas Haig’s Despatch.

[48] _W.T.N._

[49] Artillery of Assault, _i.e._, Tanks.

[50] An aiming instrument.

[51] _W.T.N._

[52] Mr. Buchanan’s _History of the War_.

[53] Major Forsyth-Major (the Second in Command of the E.T.D.), on
whose report through Colonel Fuller this summary is largely based,
was torpedoed on his return to England in 1918 and all his maps and
documents were lost.

[54] General Murray’s Despatch.

[55] 5th Battalion History.

[56] 2nd Battalion History.

[57] Major Norton, commanding the Lewis gun detachment.

[58] 3rd Battalion History.

[59] 1st Battalion History.

[60] _W.T.N._

[61] Case shot: bullets not enclosed in a shell, but fired direct from
a 6-pounder and scattering like the charge of a shot gun.

[62] Sir Douglas Haig’s Despatch.

[63] 5th Brigade History.

[64] 8th Battalion History.

[65] _W.T.N._

[66] _W.T.N._

[67] The 1st, 4th, 5th, and 14th Battalions.

[68] The 8th, 13th, 2nd, and 15th Battalions.

[69] From _W.T.N._

[70] 13th Battalion History.

[71] From the 5th Brigade History.

[72] Honours and Awards.

[73] From 14th Battalion History.

[74] From 1st Battalion History.

[75] From 3rd Battalion History.

[76] From 8th Battalion History

[77] From a Battalion History.

[78] From a Battalion History.

[79] Sir Douglas Haig’s Despatch.

[80] Summer, 1919.

[81] _i.e._, In the Battle of Amiens, 8.8.18.

[82] _W.T.N._

[83] 3rd Battalion History.

[84] 15th Battalion History.

[85] 6th Battalion History and “Honours and Awards.”

[86] Despatch.

[87] A Brigade History.

[88] Unit History.

[89] _Ibid._

[90] Unit History.

[91] Sir Douglas Haig’s Despatch.

[92] 15th Battalion Tank History.

[93] Captain Denny, _Daily Telegraph_, April 1, 1919.

[94] Captain Denny, _Daily Telegraph_, April 1, 1919.

[95] The 301st was attached to the 27th American Division.

[96] From information specially given to the author by Captain
Hatton-Hall, Reconnaissance Officer of the Brigade.

[97] 16th Battalion.

[98] Sir Douglas Haig’s Despatch.

[99] Captain Hatton-Hall.

[100] _W.T.N._

[101] Sir Douglas Haig’s Despatch.

[102] Captain Hatton-Hall.

[103] Sir Douglas Haig’s Despatch.

[104] Sir Douglas Haig’s Despatch.

[105] 6th Battalion History.

[106] 6th Battalion History.

[107] _Ibid._

[108] _W.T.N._

[109] Tradition relates that had General Swinton had his way, the Tanks
for Palestine would have had hideous faces and minatory texts from the
Koran painted upon them.




Transcriber’s Notes


Punctuation, hyphenation, and spelling were made consistent when a
predominant preference was found in the original book; otherwise they
were not changed.

Simple typographical errors were corrected; unbalanced quotation
marks were remedied when the change was obvious, and otherwise left
unbalanced.

Illustrations in this eBook have been positioned between paragraphs
and outside quotations. In versions of this eBook that support
hyperlinks, the page references in the List of Illustrations lead to
the corresponding illustrations.

The text always uses “moral”, not “morale”.

The index was not checked for proper alphabetization or correct page
references.

Chapter XV does not have a Section “V”; the section after “IV” is “VI”;
no pages or text are missing.





End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Tank Corps, by 
Clough Williams-Ellis and Amabel Williams-Ellis

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