TANK AGAINST TANK
A great sigh arose from the group of soldiers gazing spellbound on
this drama of war. The German aeroplane fell swiftly until it was
perhaps halfway to the earth, and then straightened out for a second,
hesitated, and started turning over and over as it neared the uprushing
earth. The top of its wings seemed fairly covered with the greenish
luminous paint, that smoked and glowed and gave the ill-fated aeroplane
the appearance of a gigantic pinwheel as it came hurtling earthward.
For what seemed a long time to the fascinated watchers, but was in
reality only a brief space of time, the machine continued its downward
course, and then disappeared as it fell below the fringe of treetops
marking the edge of the clearing. It seemed to have landed quite near,
but the Americans, experienced in these matters, knew that it was
probably a matter of two or three miles from where they stood.
“Well!” exclaimed Frank at last, drawing a long breath, “there’s
one less murdering Boche for Uncle Sam to deal with. May their tribe
decrease!”
“Amen,” said Tom. “I wonder if Dick has come off safely?”
The others also felt anxiety on this point, but it was soon dispelled,
for they heard the sound of his motor as he descended rapidly. Of
course, it was impossible for him to land now, on account of the
darkness, but as he swooped low over the treetops he fired a few rounds
of ammunition from his machine gun, by way of greeting, and the boys
raised a lusty cheer, which, however, it is very doubtful if he heard,
owing to the noise of his motor. Then he straightened out in a line for
the aeroplane base in back of the American lines, and gradually the hum
of his motor faded out in the distance.
“Maybe we’ll come across the remains of that German machine when we
advance tomorrow,” speculated Billy. “But whether we do or not, that
ought to be a tip for our airmen. That was one idea of yours, Frank,
that wasn’t quite as bad as the majority of your ideas.”
“Well, if I can have an idea that works out like that one once in a
while, I’m entitled to have a few poor ones,” retorted Frank, and
retired with the honors of war.
By this time “taps” was almost due, and the boys set about rigging up
their “pup” tents, and getting ready for the night. In spite of the
weariness caused by the strenuous and exciting day, they managed to
stay awake long enough to discuss the thrilling air battle they had
witnessed, but then fell asleep until the notes of “reveille” recalled
them to another day of this stern game called war.
The next morning they were up with the first notes of the bugle, and
by the time dawn had fairly broken were through breakfast and ready
for what the day might bring forth. Then the bugle blew the “assembly”
and the soldiers fell into orderly ranks, standing at attention while
muster was read.
Their commanding officer then gave them a short talk in which he
praised their progress on the preceding day, and expressed his
confidence that they would do as well or better today. Then the order
was given to advance, and the formation moved forward at a walk,
keeping as good a line as possible over the broken terrain, but
inevitably breaking up into small parties as the difficulties of the
advance became more and more pronounced.
The Germans had apparently retreated to a considerable distance, for
at first the Americans met with no opposition except that offered by
the tangles of barbed wire and abandoned trenches with which they were
continually coming into contact. Frank, Billy and Tom kept a lookout in
every direction for the destroyed German aeroplane, but their vigilance
was doomed to go unrewarded, for they saw not a sign of it.
By noon time the Americans had begun to come in contact with the enemy
again, and were again engaged in the grim business of clearing out
stubbornly held trenches and machine gun nests. The Germans fought for
every foot of ground, but were slowly but surely forced backward, ever
giving way to men who were better soldiers than they were. Always they
had the advantage of carefully planned and constructed fortifications,
and yet always they were beaten out of them. By noon the Americans had
registered a satisfactory advance, and the order was given to rest
while the wearied soldiers were given food and a chance to get a very
much needed rest.
Soon after our three friends had eased the packs off their aching
shoulders and thrown themselves on the ground, they saw a small party
of five men, three of whom were officers, approach their commanding
officer, and after the usual salutes, enter into conversation with
him. Shortly afterward, the two non-commissioned men were dismissed,
and strolled over toward the three friends. Seeing them coming, these
latter hospitably offered tobacco, matches, and chewing gum, and
shortly learned that the newcomers were members of the Tank Corps.
One of them had seen a good deal of service in this comparatively new
branch of the Army, and with a little skillful urging was led to talk
of some of his experiences.
“Yes,” he said, in answer to a question from Tom, “some pretty queer
things happen out there in no man’s land, and the tanks get their
share, I can tell you. I’ve had experiences myself.”
“I don’t doubt it,” said Frank. “But these tanks seem to have put a
great fear into the Boches, at that.”
“You bet they have!” exclaimed the other, “and it’s too bad that we
can’t use them very much here. But of course, with all these trees and
the thick underbrush, they’re practically out of the question. But
that’s what we’re here for now--looking over the ground, to see if in
some places they can’t be used to some extent.”
“I’ve often wondered,” said Billy, “why the Huns haven’t used tanks
more. They don’t seem to have anything like the success with them that
our men have had.”
“Well, for one thing, they’re not as well made, and when it comes to
tank against tank, we almost always out-manœuvre them,” said Arney, for
such was the tank man’s name.
“I’ve often wondered what would happen if two tanks had a pitched
battle,” said Frank, “I suppose that happens sometimes, doesn’t it?”
“Often enough,” said Arney. “I was in one once that stacked up against
a Boche tank, so I am in a position to know, if anyone is.”
“How was that?” queried Tom.
“Well, the way it happened was this,” replied the other, “our side had
planned an attack one morning at dawn, but as it happened, the German
had also planned one against us at the same time. Of course, neither
side knew what the other was up to, so it came as a pretty big surprise
when the Boches opened their bombardment just a few minutes before ours
was due to commence.
“This didn’t stop us, though, and our batteries opened up full split
in reply. My tank was due to start out at six o’clock, and promptly
on schedule we got away. It was still pitch dark, though, and raining
as usual, and as neither side was sending up star shells for fear of
exposing their own operations, we had very little to guide us. We
lost our way a couple of times, at the same time falling behind our
schedule, and when we finally did get on the right track, we trundled
along at top speed. Top speed doesn’t mean very much to a tank, to look
at it from the outside, but when you’re on the inside, with the engine
going full split, and rocking along over ground that’s been ploughed
up about a million times by big shells, you certainly do know you’re
moving.
“Well, we had travelled maybe half a mile, when suddenly we stopped
dead, with a slam that nearly took my teeth out. At first I thought
we must have hit a big tree, but then I remembered that all the trees
around that section had been blasted into kindling wood a good many
months ago, and as about everything else had shared the same fate, I
didn’t know what had happened to us. But in a few seconds we had our
searchlight going, and then I found out what was the matter pretty
quick. There in front of us, butted square into us, was a big Boche
tank.”
Here the narrator paused to roll a cigarette, while the boys waited
impatiently for him to go on. After deliberately making and lighting
his cigarette, he took a few deep puffs, and resumed his narrative.
“Well, boys, I figured we were up against it for fair in more ways than
one. The driver put her into low gear, and threw in the clutch again
and again, but it was no use. I suppose the other fellow was doing the
same thing, and neither of us could budge an inch. Then, first thing
we knew, a big explosive bullet came crashing through our armor, and
stretched the driver over his seat, done for for good. I depressed my
gun as far as it would go, and tried to get back at the Boche, but
he could get his gun lower than I could get mine, and my bullets just
bounced off his armor, because they hit it at such a big angle.
“I went down and told our lieutenant how things stood, and he took the
place of the dead driver, and threw her into reverse, but the Boche
realized his advantage, and followed us up so close that I never got a
chance to get a direct hit on him. It looked pretty bad for us, and I
thought it was about time to say ‘Good-bye, sweet world, good-bye.’ But
the Lieutenant kept his wits about him, and suddenly had an idea.
“As we backed down into a big shell crater, he waited until the nose
of the Boche tank came rolling over the edge, and then suddenly shot
our machine forward, so that it slid in under the German. That gave me
my chance, and maybe you think I didn’t take advantage of it. I began
pumping steel jacketed bullets in through the floor of that tank so
fast they must have thought it was a machine gun doing it. They saw
what they were up against, and tried to retire. But we followed them
close, and never gave them a chance to get away.
“Seeing that they couldn’t escape that way, they suddenly reversed and
tried to climb over us, but the Lieutenant was some driver, I can tell
you, and reversed about as quickly as they did, so that was no go. Oh,
we had them right that time, and no doubt about it.”
Here Arney took a last lingering puff at the remnants of his cigarette,
and regretfully tossed it away.
“Well, how did it end?” questioned Billy, eagerly.
“Oh, we got their gasoline tank, and then it was all over,” replied
Arney, “of course, all the time the Lieutenant was backing and filling,
I was pumping bullets into them for all I was worth. Suddenly there
came a terrific explosion, and the whole inside of that tank was on
fire with burning gasoline. That finished those who were left in it,
and then we backed away from under, and as our men had reached their
objectives by that time, we returned to our own lines. We were pretty
well torn up by the encounter, but still had a little fight left in us.”
“Gosh!” exclaimed Billy, when Arney had concluded his narrative, “I
think that’s the service I’d like to get into. You get some excitement
there.”
“You are certainly hard to please!” exclaimed Tom. “Chances are you’ll
get all the excitement you want this afternoon, when we get in touch
with the Germans again. Making a frontal attach on a machine gun
emplacement is all the excitement my young heart craves.”
“You’re probably easily satisfied,” grinned Billy. “But if your young
heart craves that method of diversion, we’ll let you go after the next
one all by your lonesome.”
Arney grinned at this exchange of repartee, and then, shaking hands all
around, took his departure. Shortly afterward the bugle sounded, and
once more the tedious and costly attack was resumed.