CHAPTER II.

THE MARK I. AND MARK IV. TANKS: THE FIRST COMPANIES.

I.

The tank was only just emerging from the primitive stage when the war

ended. The Mark V., which entered the field in 1918 (in excellent

time for the Amiens retreat), was in the opinion of many people the

first tank worthy of the name. But the heat and burden of the day

had been borne by the earlier types, whose carcases littered a dozen

battlefields all down the line, from the Salient to Cambrai, and

whose successes and misfortunes provided the foundation for the final

triumph. It will be convenient to deal here with those early types,

Marks I. and IV., together, for they differed only in comparatively

minor features. Marks II. and III. had no genuine existence. The Mark

II. was simply the Mark I. in a slightly advanced stage of evolution

without its tail, and the Mark III. was experimental.

Half a chapter on the idiosyncrasies of these machines will not be

exciting. It will be difficult even to make it interesting. But such

details have to be faced sooner or later, and are better done with for

good and all early in the book.

“Big Willie” and its one hundred and fifty Mark I. successors were

designed to cope with the conditions encountered on what was then

considered to be a typical modern battlefield--namely, that of

Loos. On account of its very limited success and disproportionate

casualties, this battle won many converts to the theory of the “attack

by armour”; but it misled to some extent those who were responsible

for specifying the capabilities required of the new weapon. It was

not fully realised that by the date when the tanks would be ready for

the field, the conditions on most battle-fronts must certainly have

changed materially for the worse. Owing to the enormous projected

increase in our artillery, the autumn of 1916 was likely to find the

terrain immediately behind the enemy’s front line pounded to atoms. But

no one foresaw the appallingly destructive effect of such gun-fire as

was to blast the Somme and Ypres battlefields during the two ensuing

years. It is commonly supposed that the original tank was constructed

expressly to meet this difficulty. It was not: it was designed to fight

over the moderately shelled areas (as they seem to us now) with which

we were familiar at the end of 1915. Actually it made its entry upon

ground which, for miles ahead, was convulsed as if by an earthquake, or

water-logged like a quagmire; and not until Cambrai did tanks operate

under anything approaching favourable conditions.

[Illustration: The Mark V. Tank.]

It was desired to have a machine which, in the first place, would cross

a trench nine feet wide. The engineers’ earliest solution embodied

huge wheels with caterpillar tracks. But as these wheels, to fulfil

the specification, must have had a diameter of fifteen feet, they were

ruled out as offering too big a target; and after several intermediate

stages, in which varieties of the ordinary tractor model (such as

“Mother” and “Little Willie”) were tried and discarded, an ingenious

compromise was discovered. In the Mark I. tank (and all later types

conformed to this shape) the tracks passed completely round the body

of the machine. The underside of this body was in effect a segment of

a wheel, as will be apparent to any one who looks at the outline; and

the tracks, instead of continuing round the whole periphery, turned

back virtually at right angles over the nose and so along the top

of the body. The width of trench which could be crossed by machines of

this design depended only on their length, or, in other words, on the

circumference of the wheel. The Mark I., 26 feet long, could in fact

cross an 11-foot gap, climb a vertical obstacle 5 feet high, and crawl

up any slope of 1 in 2. Craters, however big, presented no difficulty

provided the ground was firm.

[Illustration: Disabled Mark II. Tank, Arras, 1917.]

On the level the tank was resting on no more than 4 or 5 feet of

its length (the wheel again), which gave it when moving a slight

fore-and-aft rocking motion. The point of gravity was almost in the

centre, and with this admirable balance a skilful driver could lower

his machine quite gently down over any drop that was not absolutely

sheer. In the Mark I. this operation was facilitated by a cumbersome

atrocity known as the hydraulic stabiliser, or, more simply, the

tail,--a pivoted structure at the stern carrying two large wheels which

was controlled (in theory) by an hydraulic ram. This tail was designed

also to assist steering, but when the tank was swung (of which more

later) the whole affair had to be raised. It was an abomination from

the start; it took anything from five minutes to half an hour to lift;

and in action it was the first thing to be disabled or shot away. It

was discarded after the Somme battles, where it was found that its loss

made little or no difference to the efficiency of the machine, and was,

from every other point of view, a godsend.

The tank mounted its main armament in sponsons--a form of projecting

gun-casemate borrowed from naval architecture.[3] The male tank

carried two Hotchkiss 6-pounder Q.F. naval guns on recoil mountings,

protected by close-fitting revolving shields, which gave an arc of

fire of about 120 degrees. These are extremely handy little weapons,

especially when shortened as in the Mark IV., and could be loaded and

fired if necessary by one man. With a calibre of 2¹⁄₄ inches, they

fired percussion common shell and case-shot; and although sighted up

to 2600 yards, were used normally at quite short ranges, when their

enormous flash and detonation, out of all proportion to their size, had

a great moral effect. In addition, there was a port in each sponson

for a Hotchkiss machine-gun or automatic rifle. The tank commander

also was provided with one of these weapons, to be fired (with extreme

difficulty) through a port in the cab.

The Mark I. female carried Vickers’ machine-guns, two to a sponson, or

four in all, behind revolving shields. The water-jackets were protected

by a kind of armoured sleeve, and the gunners sat on bicycle-seats

which moved with the shields. The tank commander was again given a

Hotchkiss. The Vickers, a beautiful gun, was perfectly satisfactory

in a tank; but in the Mark IV., either on account of a shortage of

Vickers’ or of some commercial influence, the Lewis gun was introduced

as the light weapon throughout both male and female types. As no

armoured casing was provided for the barrel, it was disabled very

easily by bullets alone, a defect which the Germans did not fail to

discover; and in the Mark V. and later types the Hotchkiss (which is

all but indestructible) reappeared.

The sponsons of the Mark I. tank were heavy affairs bolted to the side

of the machine. The latter then being too wide over-all for carriage

by rail, it was necessary before entrainment to unbolt the sponsons

and hoist them by a laborious process with a girder and tackle on to

specially constructed trolleys, which were towed by the tank. In

the Mark IV. an infinitely superior system was substituted. The male

sponson, reduced in size and weight, could be pushed inwards, gun and

all, after unbolting. On the female tanks a double door, flush with

the body, replaced the lower half of the old sponson; the remaining

upper half, also more compact than in the Mark I., was bolted down the

middle and hinged to the main structure at each end. It was necessary

only to unscrew these few bolts and swing the two portions back on

their hinges. Although not so simple as they sound, these operations

were child’s play in comparison with the earlier abomination of girder

and tackle. Moreover, this new arrangement on the female tank had the

great advantage of facilitating the entrance or escape of the crew. The

manhole in the roof and a dreadful little aperture beside the radiator

in the stern were common to both types; but for ordinary use the Mark

I. female possessed only a small door, some two feet high, in either

sponson; and if the tank were hit and set on fire, some of her men

were almost certain to be trapped. With the improved sponson all could

escape in a few seconds. Male sponsons, it may be noted, always allow

for quite reasonable doors.

So much for the shell and armament of the landship. The motive

power was a more difficult problem. There was no time to design and

construct special plant: some petrol-driven engine already in use

had to be selected. The choice fell eventually on the Daimler 105

H.P. six-cylinder sleeve-valve tractor unit. It must be left to the

mechanically-minded to decide whether a more suitable engine could have

been discovered. The greatest merit of the Daimler was its comparative

simplicity. It was very nearly fool-proof. It took up an immense amount

of space, however, for in the Mark I. the differential gear, radiator,

and petrol-supply were all enclosed in the body of the tank. There was

left just sufficient room for a narrow gangway on either side between

the engine and the sponson, for the two seats for the officer and

driver in the cab in front, and for further seats on the casing above

the crank-shaft and gear-box. Over this casing was the crank-handle for

starting up the engine--a process which required normally the efforts

of three or four men.

A serious fault existed in the method of transmitting the motive power

from the engine to the tracks. Working off the differential, and

manipulated by levers, a primitive and infuriating system of secondary

gears, pinions, and Coventry chains connected with the sprocket wheels

which performed the actual labour of propulsion. Two men were required

to work these gears; and no member of any tank crew who took a Mark I.

or Mark IV. into action is ever likely to forget the sweat and tears

and blasphemy expended over this atrocious system. Apart from the

labour and waste of time (and consequent danger) which it involved,

it has been asserted by pessimists that 75 per cent of power was lost

in the secondary gears and transmission. In addition to changes of

speed, these gears played a prominent part in the more frequent act of

“swinging.” To alter direction to any appreciable degree the tank had

to be swung. The differential was locked, the track on the side toward

which the turn was intended was disconnected by putting the secondary

gears on that side into neutral, and the other track, with the whole

drive behind it, then pulled the tank round--if the soil was firm,

virtually on its axis. Handbrakes, working from the officer’s seat to

the extension shafts on the differential, assisted in the process, and

could be used alone for small changes of direction. Swinging with this

transmission was unsatisfactory in the extreme. It required the work of

four men, and often was very slow. In the Mark V., epicyclic gears and

a one-man control were introduced.

In the Mark I. the petrol-supply was carried in two tanks, one on

either side of the cab in front. With this arrangement, whoever else

might escape when the machine was set on fire, the officer and driver

stood an excellent chance of being burnt alive; and in the Mark IV.

an armoured tank holding sixty gallons, placed outside in rear, was

substituted. In all types, every available inch of space within was

utilised for ammunition racks. The male tank was designed to carry 160

rounds of 6-pounder shell, and 1500 rounds of S.A.A.; the female to

carry 7800 rounds of the latter; but, in fact, these numbers were often

exceeded, and as much as 27,000 rounds of S.A.A. have been taken into

action in a tank. Spare supplies of water, oil, and grease, together

with two days’ rations and the crew’s equipment, were tucked away

wherever room could be found. It will be apparent, therefore, that

there was little scope for movement and no possibility of comfort in a

fully-loaded tank. Although ventilation was assisted by a rotary-fan,

placed in the stern and worked off the half-time shaft, the heat was

terrific: no one could stand upright; and the uproar of the engine was

so loud that orders had to be transmitted by signs. Visibility was

limited in the extreme. The officer and driver had flaps which, when

fully open, gave a fair range of vision immediately in front; but when

it was necessary to close these there remained only a number of double

glass prisms[4] let into the armour, and some inadequate periscopes

thrust up through the roof. After a while naval compasses on gimbals

were provided, but in such a mass of steel and iron they proved of very

small value.

A few words must be said as to a tank’s method of progression. The two

caterpillar tracks, passing completely round the body of the machine,

consisted each of ninety hard steel plates with lips for gripping the

surface. These tracks did not actually move over the ground; the tank

in effect laid its own track, clawed its way along it by means of the

two sprocket wheels in the rear, and then picked it up behind and

passed it over its head, as it were, before laying it down in front

again. During this process the whole weight of the machine rested on

a number of flanged rollers, which wore out very rapidly, as did

the early sprocket wheels. Tracks and rollers required continual

lubrication--the latter by injections from grease-guns. The less said

of this ghastly operation the better.

It will be fitting to include in so tedious a section a few statistics.

The length of the Mark I. tank was 26 feet 6 inches; its width

(including sponsons) 12 feet 9 inches in the male, 10 feet 5 inches in

the female; and its height was 8 feet 1 inch. It weighed approximately

26 tons. The armour throughout the body was 12 mm. thick, but on

the sponsons, for some obscure reason, only 10 mm. It was proof

against shrapnel and ordinary S.A.A., but failed to keep out the “K”

armour-piercing bullet which the Germans, apparently on the strength of

vague warnings received, had just introduced.

Combinations of the primary and secondary gears gave four different

speeds forward and one reverse, the highest reaching something over

four miles an hour on level ground. Not more than 30 to 40 yards

a minute was expected of a tank across trench systems and heavily

shelled areas. The estimated radius of action without a refill was ten

hours; and it was not believed that a crew could endure for longer the

exhausting conditions amid which they must work and fight. Finally,

it was thought that the track-rollers and the sprockets and pinions

of the secondary gears would require to be replaced after about fifty

hours’ running. As a matter of fact, most of these estimates were

conservative. Tanks ran for fifteen hours and more without a refill;

their crews withstood the heat and gases for even longer periods; and

with improved steel in the sprockets and pinions these were found to

survive such journeys as were not dreamed of in the early days.

The Mark IV. was virtually identical with the Mark I. in shape,

dimensions, and method of propulsion. Owing to its modified sponsons it

was of less width. Its armour was slightly thicker and harder, and kept

out the “K” bullets, although the impact of the latter drove splinters

from the inside wall.[5] The exhaust, instead of opening direct on to

the roof, where its flames often betrayed the position of the tank at

night, was led down over the stern. A number of Daimlers of 125 H.P.

were mounted in this class, and, with a better type of radiator, raised

the speed to about five miles an hour on the level.

In conclusion, we will describe briefly the method of conveying tanks

by rail. A 50-ton truck of great length, known officially as a “K.T.,”

was designed especially for the purpose; and after a few preliminary

rites the tank was driven direct on to this over a ramp. The normal

train used in France carried twelve tanks, so that the leader had to

drive over eleven trucks before it arrived at its own, the second

ten, and so on. The trucks were only four inches wider than the span

of the caterpillar tracks: the act of entraining or detraining took

place almost invariably at night: occasionally, owing to the faults

or exigencies of the railway service, the tanks had to be driven off

stern first; and if the line up to the ramp was curved, as often it

was, a very nice judgment in driving and guidance was demanded. It

often happened that some machine suffering from mechanical trouble

required to be towed off by one of its fellows. Finally, at times

of great urgency (as for the big concentration before Cambrai), it

became necessary to make use of French 30-ton trucks, which were never

intended to carry such a load, and were, moreover, actually narrower

than a tank. Yet all ranks became so expert in this work that it was

not uncommon for an entire company to be entrained in the dark in less

than thirty minutes, and detrained in little more. The whole process,

with its harrowing contingencies, will fall to be described at a later

period in the book; but I may add here that, speaking from memory,

I can recall only one serious accident during a move by rail. This

happened just before Cambrai, when a tank fell from a French truck as

the train was taking a sharp curve. And for that battle some 470 were

detrained in a few days in the same area.

II.

In Easter week, 1916, two new companies of the M.G.C., known as the

Heavy Section, and lettered “K” and “L,” were formed at Bisley under

Lieut.-Colonel Bradley. Colonel Swinton remained at Headquarters

in London. The personnel was recruited principally from the A.S.C.

(M.T.) and from the classes attested under the Derby scheme. For

officers, volunteers for what was described as a new armoured-car unit

were gathered in from the ranks of the 18th, 19th, and 21st Royal

Fusiliers--the so-called public-school battalions, then in France--and

from the Motor Machine Gun Corps. There being as yet no tanks available

for training purposes, the programme of work at Bisley was limited

virtually to drill and courses in the Hotchkiss guns. It would be

absurd to pretend that any of this was taken very seriously. The

other established arms of the service, now expanding beyond belief,

absorbed all the best regular soldiers left in England; and the new

formation suffered inevitably from a lack of competent and energetic

senior officers. Many of us must be familiar with the casual methods

and discipline which obtained in such embryo organisations in those

days, and it is unnecessary to fill in the details. Of the subaltern

officers, probably 75 per cent represented as good material as could

be found anywhere--a high proportion, in view of the extraordinary and

haphazard processes by which the commissioned ranks of the New Army

were filled, and one which compared very favourably with that of most

infantry units. From the outbreak of war, while the uneducated and

unintelligent were obtaining commissions for the asking, there were

fighting and dying as private soldiers or N.C.O.’s thousands of men

accustomed to responsibility and leadership; and amid this criminal

wastage the new corps was lucky to obtain so good a nucleus. As for the

original rank and file, they were admirable. A large number, of course,

were skilled mechanics; and the fighting qualities of all, under

conditions entirely novel and trying in the extreme to nerve and body,

were beyond praise.

The prelude at Bisley did not continue long. Arrangements had been

made to take over Lord Iveagh’s estate at Thetford, in Norfolk, for

training purposes; and the Heavy Section was translated thither in June

to make the acquaintance of its new machines. Within the estate the

R.E.’s had constructed a model battlefield, with trenches, craters,

and other obstacles. Since the enterprise, theoretically, was shrouded

in mystery, the whole area was swept clear of inhabitants. Farms and

cottages were evacuated. Fences, barbed wire, and sentries kept the

East Coast labourer intrigued and amused. Aeroplanes which came too

near were fired at. These methods seem, on the whole, to have been

successful. It was impossible to conceal the fact that something was

doing: beautiful female spies and their less attractive colleagues

of the other sex are said to have transmitted vague warnings to the

enemy; but until the Mark I.’s appeared on the Somme front the Germans

had no definite information to work on. Messrs Foster, building the

first 150 at Lincoln, preferred simpler, yet perhaps more subtle,

deceptions. There was no secrecy in their yards. Any one could see

what they were doing. They were building mobile water tanks for the

Russians, those useful people, Russia being notoriously a waterless

country and badly served with roads. There are still to be seen a few

old training machines which bear inscribed on their sides a legend in

large white Russian characters, setting forth their alleged purpose and

destination. This last was Petrograd. In such a manner the word “tank”

came into use as a convenient code expression, and remained to stay.

And as the completed tanks arrived by rail at the training area after

dark, it is probable that few persons outside the corps were aware of

any connection between the simple Russian water-carriers at Lincoln and

the mysterious armoured cars which manœuvred behind the walls of the

huge enclosure at Thetford.

On its arrival in the new area the Heavy Section began work in earnest

on the machines available. At first, unfortunately, there were not

many: there was some delay in delivery, and already there were upwards

of a thousand officers and men to be trained. It had been decided to

form six fighting companies, of which four were to be ready by the

beginning of August. These companies were now lettered from “A” to “F,”

and were each to be composed of four sections of six tanks (three male

and three female), with one reserve tank, making twenty-five in all.

Each section was divided again into three sub-sections of two tanks. A

tank crew consisted of a subaltern, three drivers, and four gunners,

including an N.C.O. The company was commanded by a major, the sections

by captains. The total strength was thirty-one officers and about

200 other ranks. To every two companies there was a quartermaster’s

establishment and a workshop’s section of three officers and thirty

men. By the 14th August the first four companies--A, B, C, and D--were

complete as regards personnel; and the right half of C, with thirteen

tanks, had already left for France.

We can prepare to follow. There is no need to enlarge upon the training

at Thetford. With the arrival of the actual machines, decorated with

Russian characters, interest and zeal revived. It was difficult to

remain enthusiastic about the Hotchkiss gun for weeks on end; but to

drive a tank across trenches and in and out of craters, even in July,

was a novel and piquant form of work. It was felt that things were

moving at last: the atmosphere of secrecy was attractive, and there

were many indications of the importance already attaching to the new

arm. Generals and staff officers came down to witness demonstrations,

and the necessary element of humour was provided when a tank-load of

them was upset in a trench. The men were both clever and keen, and the

most serious trouble was the insufficient supply of machines in which

to train them. Many drivers had spent no more than an hour or two in

a tank when they left for France. It may well seem, indeed, that the

first companies were rushed out too soon; but there were good arguments

for the move. The difficulties encountered in the Somme offensive

led to a request for the early departure of tanks; and although the

training of both officers and men was lamentably incomplete, it was

thought that a month or two of actual battle experience would outweigh

all the manifest disadvantages of a premature entry. The winter

could then be spent in profiting by the lessons learnt. A startling

success in the beginning was not anticipated by any one who realised

the difficulties to be overcome. The danger rather was of a complete

failure, and consequent discouragement; and this possibility had to be

faced. It was hoped, however, that the new arm would at least play so

good a part as to justify its present claims and its demands for future

development.

As we have seen, the right half of C Company left England on the 13th

August. The left half followed on the 22nd. D was the next to go, and

then A and B. There remained the two later companies, E and F, but

these never left the country as units. The other four did all that was

asked of them: the experiment was justified; and E and F stayed to form

the nucleus of the battalions raised at home when the great expansion

of the corps was authorised later in the year.

The tank in action · 第 2 / 16 章