THE TANK

This is the tale of a Tank as told by William F. E. Divall of Southborough, who fought inside it, and was wounded, in a letter to his sister - afterwards published in the press:

		As the Tanks travel over the front trench the troops rub their eyes in wonder at their strange, cube-impressionist coats of many colours. The deck of the Tank rolls and pitches like a torpedo-boat in a storm. But we are all old hands - full A.B.'s in fact - and we come safely through without sea-sickness. Hun bullets are rebounding from our tough sides like hail from a glass roof. We just crawl over the embankment, guns and all. It is not necessary to fire a single shot. Two or three Huns are brave enough to creep on the back of the Tank from behind. They are doomed not to get the Iron Cross, for we open a small trap-door and shoot them with a revolver.
A Park of British Tanks

It is almost like playing hide-and-seek, as we travel backward and forward along the trench. Inside the Tanks are the keen-eyed fighting men, known as the" Crew," strangely garbed, as becomes their strange craft, while around them is a complicated mass of machinery.

We succeed in putting out two machine-gun emplacements, the guns of which have been worrying our infantry for some time. And now the action begins in earnest. Hun bullets are rebounding from our tough sides like hail from a glass roof, while inside the Tanks the whole crew are at various guns, which break forth in a devastating fire, under which nothing can live.

By this time the fumes from the hundreds of rounds which. we had fired, with the heat from the engines and the waste petrol and oil, have made the air quite oppressive and uncomfortable to breathe in.

However, those who go down to the land in Tanks are accustomed to man strange sensations, which would make an ordinary mortal shuddering

We make a fairly difficult target, as our way lies between numerous tree trunks and battered stumps, also much barbed wire.
Our strange craft is battling bravely with the waves of earth now encountered, and the conditions inside might be better imagined than described. But, thanks to our protective headgear, we come through it all, still smiling, to find ourselves on the edge of the Hun trench.
The Huns show fight here, and we have a warm ten minutes before they give signs of retreating.

We leave them for a minute or two, in order to ram a machine-gun emplacement which is still threatening our rapidly advancing infantry..
We just crawl over the embankment, guns and all. It is not necessary to fire a single shot.

The last trench proves to be the worst, for just as we are crossing a large hole our 'bus stops. I believe the sparking plugs have ceased to sparkle, and it is in a very awkward place as the tree stumps now prevent free traverse of our guns....
And now the old 'bus is going strong again. Only just in time, for a large lyddite bomb bursts against the armoured jacket of my gun. The flare comes in through the port-hole, blinding me for a minute or so, while small splinters strike my face. But my gun is still untouched, thanks to the armour-plate, and Somehow seems to work much better.

The Germans are now scattered in small parties.
After a few short runs we find no more Huns to hunt, so as our objective. the wood, has been gained, we leave the scene to the infantry, and find shelter from possible stray shells in a large hole, which has been made by many shells.
After a little exercise we start to overhaul the Tank and guns, in readiness for the next joy-ride. Then we snatch a few hours of sleep.

The following description of the Tanks was sent to a German newspaper by an enemy war correspondent on the western front

When the German outposts crept out of their dug-outs in the mist of the morning of September 16 and stretched their necks to look for the English. their blood was chilled in their veins. Two mysterious monsters were crawling towards them over the craters. Stunned as if an earthquake had burst around them, they all rubbed their eyes, which were fascinated by the fabulous creatures.

Their imaginations were still excited by the effects of the bombardment. It was no wonder, then, that imagination got the better of these sorely tried men, who knew well enough that the enemy would use every means to destroy our steel wall of fragile human bodies. These men no longer know what fear is. But here was some devilry which the brain of man had invented, with powerful mechanical forces, a mystery which rooted one to the ground because the intelligence could not grasp it, a fate before which one felt helpless.

One stared and stared as if one had lost the power of one's limbs. The monsters approached slowly, hobbling, rolling, and rocking, but they approached. Nothing impeded them; a supernatural force seemed to impel them on. Some one in the trenches said: "The devil is coming," and the word was passed along the line like wildfire.

Suddenly tongues of flame leaped out of the armoured sides of the iron caterpillar. Shells whistled over our heads, and the sound of machine-guns filled the air. The mysterious creature had yielded its secret, and the men came back to their senses; their vigour and tenacity returned when the English infantry roiled up in waves behind the devil's coaches."

The thirteen vehicles of the Motor Machine Gun Corps were landed at Le Havre on August 29. In order not to excite attention they were painted in dull colours and sent to the front by night. Their weight is so great that a railway wagon collapsed under them. They were placed at first behind the field artillery positions and then brought up to the trenches.

On September 16 two of these armoured cars took part in the English infantry attack at Flers. Our machine-guns and hand-grenades rattled ineffectively from off their iron ides. As our communications with the rear had been cut, our artillery could not be called upon to aid us against the massed fire of these armoured towers. They were thus able without difficulty to wipe out the remnants of the garrisons of the advanced shell craters. They then crossed the first German line to the village of Flers, and spent some time there.

Alter the English infantry had come up and taken possession of the village, they continued along the Ligny-Thilloy road. In the meanwhile notice of their arrival had reached our rear positions. Well-aimed shots from our field-guns put an end to their victorious career beyond the village of Flers. The crews were killed in the explosion of the petrol; a mechanic, who happened to be outside at the time, was taken prisoner.
The clumsy steel box with sides one inch thick has appeared in a different form between Combles and Thiépval. It has usually the shape of an egg, which moves on endless chains, In the front the chains jut a little beyond the body to enable the machine to cross trenches and shell holes. The machine is guided by a kind of tail, the wheels of which dig into the-ides of the trench and shove it forward with a jerky motion.
The armoured car, with its crew of one officer and seven men, carries two six-pounder guns in turrets stuck on the sides like swallows' nests. There are also four to eight machine. guns at loopholes which can be closed. It is lit inside by electricity. On good ground it has a maximum speed of five to seven miles, in soft ground torn up by shells at most one to two miles.

The engines are motors of 100h.p. It can only turn in wide curves, and has to avoid larger craters. Its object is to clear trenches and obstacles, and according to orders discovered it can be used against machine-gun positions, and even, in certain circumstances, against batteries, and it may advance with or without infantry. They carry ample supplies of munitions, provisions for several days, and a cage with carrier pigeons.
As has already been mentioned, two of them were destroyed by our shells at Flers. The crews perished miserably in the explosions of the petrol and the ammunition. One was lying in a shell crater before Combles, and another is stuck in the barbed wire, which is contrary to its specifications. In another case a lucky shot with a hand grenade exploded the petrol tank.
As soon as we came to know these new machines we prepared their Skager Rack for the English land fleet. Nevertheless, more of these worms are said to be crawling up. Our artillery is delighted to have such a slow-moving target. Inventive brains have prepared for all cases, and, besides, the autumn will prepare a soft burial-place for them.