_Told by Percival Phillips, with British Army in France_
The capture of the greatest Prussian stronghold between the Ancre and
the Somme involved hard and bitter fighting. Nowhere on the western
front have the Prussian troops made stronger resistance against odds or
given greater trouble in their underground lairs, dugouts and tunnels.
We know now that the Prussian lines yielded many marvellous examples of
catacomb work beneath the hills and valleys of Northern France for the
shelter of their battalions. The British troops spoke to-day soberly
and impressively of scenes in the buried fortress that lies below the
blasted ridge.
Two "tanks" played an important part in the capture, but the greatest
"tank" story of the day concerns another part of the line--the capture
of Gueudecourt; and it is so unusual and so thrilling as to give it
precedence over the exploits at Thiepval. This "tank" killed three
hundred Prussians who tried to storm it.
The "tank" had assisted in cleaning up Gueudecourt, and infantry
followed in its wake through the village, cheering mightily. The
shallow cellar shelters held about four hundred prisoners, who gladly
gave themselves up, and the business at Gueudecourt was easily finished.
Then the "tank" started on a tour of its own in the direction of
a hostile trench beyond the town. Its progress was a signal for
other Prussian refugees lurking in the shell craters to signal their
submission to the advancing monster.
Majestically the "tank" wallowed forward amid the fluttering of
white handkerchiefs that dotted the field shell holes, and hastily
scooped out one man from his hiding place. These isolated ones would
have been made prisoners in the "tank," but it had neither time nor
accommodation. Bigger game lurked in the ground ahead.
It ambled on its lonely advance until a deep, broad fissure in the
tumbled earth made apparent the lodging place for many armed men.
The "tank's" intention was to sit astride of this trench as a kind
of deadly jest, calculated to fill any troops with horror and play
its machine guns freely about, but suddenly it halted its engines and
stopped.
Instantly the Prussians swarmed out of the earth and buzzed around the
"tank" like bees. You must give them credit for unusual courage, for
although hidden batteries rained bullets at them they made desperate
attempts to storm the travelling fort and to pierce its hide with rifle
fire and kill the crew within.
They might as well have attacked a battle ship with spades. The machine
guns whirled incessantly and the pile of dead Prussians grew steadily
around the monster, but still there were rushes by these foolish men,
who clambered to the steel roof and hoisted one another up in the hope
of finding loopholes or joints in the armor of the strange beast.
Some of them carried dead men on their shoulders before they themselves
were dropped by the hidden gunners. It was a fearful and indescribable
sight--this futile combat of men with machinery. The "tank" fought
stolidly.
Inside, the crew were filled with joy. Never in their wildest dreams
had they conceived the possibility of having Prussians crowding forward
to be killed. Never did gunners work their guns more heartily. All they
asked was for more Prussians.
The strange tumult drew the attention of the infantry engaged in
cleaning up odd corners throughout Gueudecourt. They ran to the rescue
of the "tank," but it did not need rescuing. It was quite happy. The
infantry took a hand and beat the Prussians off, or, rather, what was
left of them. They took a few discouraged prisoners from a field of
battle thick with corpses. At least three hundred Germans lay dead
around that "tank."