PART I

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.