Deborah and the War of the Tanks
Page 14
With shells falling all round he scrambled from one crater to another, searching in despair. Suddenly, in the spot where he thought he had placed them, he saw something white moving. He crawled nearer, and stared horrified. It was a human hand. The wounded men had actually been buried in the mud by shell fire!
Frantically he tore at the dirt and slime with his hands; but thank God it was not too late, they still breathed faintly. He worked hard to revive them, and then, by a tremendous effort, he succeeded in getting them to a dressing station.
Thus did a lance-corporal do his duty.29
Meanwhile the ordeal was far from over for the wounded men inside D43, as the tank lurched its way over a series of felled tree-trunks, as Private Addy recalled:
Every time we banged down, those poor chaps, you could see in their faces, were in agony. I’ll never forget the look on their faces, and it wasn’t only the tree trunks, for by now the road was a shambles of cartwheels, bodies, and everything you could think of that was in battle. We had to go over a lot of them, you hoped they were dead but you had to go over them just the same as you daren’t get off the road. Sometimes you’d see the wounded lying there, you can see them there alive and you can see by the expressions on the men’s faces that they thought we were going to go over them. Well we do go over them, but we went over them and got them in the centre, and we’d manoeuvre the tank so that the tracks would go on either side. There was plenty of clearance underneath the tank, and they was terrified just the same. We got back to St Julien and lifted the two boys off and laid them behind a wall and went up to look for the stretcher-bearers. When we’d handed them over we camouflaged the two tanks in their parking places and got on the lorries that were waiting to take us back to La Lovie.30
Lance-Corporal Jagger had already won the Military Medal at Bullecourt, for continuing to drive his tank even though partially blinded and then bringing back a severely wounded man under heavy machine-gun fire. For his latest act of bravery, he now also received the Distinguished Conduct Medal and Croix de Guerre.31
His dedication earned an even greater reward, and in October 1917 Lance-Corporal Jagger arrived in New York as one of the crew of a tank called Britannia commanded by Captain Richard Haigh, who had previously served as Major Watson’s deputy in No. 11 Company. They took Britannia on a fund-raising and morale-building tour of American cities, and after that Ernest Jagger was posted back to the depot in England, and was never again required to prove his courage on the Western Front.32
* * *
Although the garrison of the Staigerhaus were clearly determined to put up a fight, there was still a chance this could be knocked out of them if the attack succeeded against Springfield, which was the next position to the right (from the British perspective). If the Germans could be driven back here, the men in the Staigerhaus would find their flank exposed and might decide to cut and run. Therefore a lot depended on the final two tanks in the northern group, namely D45 Destroyer and D46 Dragon. They successfully negotiated the long approach, and just over an hour after zero, a pilot swooped overhead and reported ‘Tank in action seen at Springfield at 5.50. Barrage good.’33
The commander of D46 was Lieutenant David Lewis, a twenty-five year-old bank clerk from Merseyside who had considerable military experience, having enlisted in the Territorials as early as 1909 and served on the Western Front with the King’s (Liverpool) Regiment before being commissioned.34 After transferring to the MGC (Heavy Branch) he was lucky to survive his first attack in the Battle of Arras, when his tank became stuck while crossing a trench and then suffered a direct hit which left it burned out.35
Events now seemed to be repeating themselves, as described by Captain Edward Glanville Smith: ‘Lieut. Lewis … reached Springfield Farm which was captured, but in endeavouring to advance further he was ditched.’36 But this time it was far worse, as the Germans realized Dragon was stuck and moved forward to reoccupy their former positions. Lieutenant Lewis and his crew now found themselves cut off and surrounded by the enemy. The other tank, D45 Destroyer, was powerless to assist and eventually returned to St Julien, its sponson punctured by shellfire.37
This failure had predictable consequences for the infantry from 7th Bn Royal Warwickshire Regiment: ‘The tanks moved forward and were to signal the infantry to rush the concrete blockhouses when the tanks had dealt with them. Owing to the bad state of the ground the tanks got ditched. The delay gave the enemy time to recover and our attack was not able to take its two objectives. A series of posts was established in shell holes near up to the block houses.’38
With the infantry driven back, the last hope of rescue was gone for Lieutenant Lewis and his men, who could only stay locked inside their suffocating steel fortress and pray for a miracle. They sent off a message by carrier pigeon to outline their plight, and at 11.45 a.m. Lieutenant-Colonel Henry Howard at 48th Division headquarters took a phone call from Major R.O.C. Ward: ‘[Officer Commanding] No. 12 Coy, Tanks rang up and said that he had received … a pigeon message from a tank at Springfield, who said that he was surrounded by Germans and still holding out in Springfield.’39
Knowing what we do of Major Ward, we can be sure he put his case forcefully, and Lieutenant-Colonel Howard discussed the situation with his commander, Major-General Sir Robert Fanshawe. Three-quarters of an hour later Howard phoned Brigadier-General Gerald Sladen, commander of 143rd Brigade, and ‘told him that the Divisional Commander … wished Genl. Sladen to take steps to rush Springfield and capture it.’40
Brigadier-General Sladen has been described as having ‘an incisive manner …, a clear head for an emergency … [and] the soldier’s gift, “an eye for country”.’41 He needed to draw on all those qualities in framing a response, which was tactful but firm: ‘He did not think that any movement in daylight up to Springfield is now possible owing to German M.Gs, and even if the tank was still holding out in Springfield this would not prevent the Germans from firing out of their emplacements.’ In the end he was ordered to seize any ground that was needed to link up with neighbouring units, but there was no specific instruction about Springfield.42
Another pigeon message arrived that evening bearing a final desperate message from Dragon, though it had been sent at 7 a.m., more than thirteen hours earlier: ‘Am ditched at Springfield. Unditching gear cannot be fixed. Springfield not captured.’43 But Ward and Sladen were powerless to help, and in his subsequent report Colonel Kyngdon admitted they still had no idea what had become of Dragon: ‘No further news of the crew was forthcoming up to mid-day on 25th August.’44 The next day, Colonel Baker-Carr was also none the wiser: ‘One tank became ditched and is still there with the crew, as far as is known. The other after remaining sometime returned.’45
For Major Watson, the fate of Dragon’s crew remained an unsolved mystery: ‘One gallant tank drew up alongside a “pillbox,” stuck, and fought it out. We never quite knew what happened, but at last the tank caught fire. The crew never returned.’46 To find out what became of them, we must travel to Germany, where the archives contain an interrogation report which states triumphantly:
The entire crew of tank 2048 is in our hands. They did not gain their objective, which they did not know, or rather refused to tell us, as they previously became stuck in the mud. They remained lying up all day on 22 August and were continually fired at by the Germans with machine guns and pelted with hand grenades, without suffering any casualties. They sent off a carrier pigeon to their own division, to stop the English artillery destroying the tank to prevent it from falling into our hands. During the night of 22-23 August the Germans threw hand grenades through the slits, so the crew had to abandon the tank and give themselves up.47
A more detailed account, tinged with derision, was given by Unteroffizier (i.e. Corporal) Theodor Öchsler of 23rd Reserve Infantry Regiment:
My experiences in the previous three years of war were surpassed by the fighting on 22 August. A hellish bombardment started at 6 a.m. [i.e. 5 a.m. UK time], so we cou
ld hardly see what was happening a few metres from our holes through the smoke. However we were all waiting for the expected attack. At last the English launched their assault, to which we gave such a response with our rifle-fire that those who weren’t killed flooded back again. Hardly was that business settled when we saw a tank coming along the road in our rear. Threatened by this, we left our holes and found a suitable position behind the road. All of a sudden, what joy as the tank remained stuck in a hole and could not go any further. I launched myself at the monster, along with Leutnant Schulz and Musketier [i.e. Private] Krügel from the same company. All in vain! Hand grenades, rifles, we tried everything, but there were no gaps. The crew were also firing continuously with the guns that were available. A demolition charge of six hand grenades, which I set off under the [tank] cannon, did not help either. Leutnant Schulz damaged the cannon with his rifle, also to no effect. Hand grenades were thrown up on top, but there were no gaps! Still we could take comfort that the tank could not go any further.
In the evening we moved into our usual holes. Leutnant Schulz, Leutnant Henkel … and I had another go at the tank. With egg grenades, which we put into a small opening, we frightened the crew so much that they immediately began begging for mercy. We shouted: ‘Come out of your box, or we’ll blow it sky-high’, and the little door on the side opened and eight strapping Englishmen were standing there in front of us with their hands up. It was hilarious! After searching them I took them to the battalion, the regiment, and then the 12th Reserve Division. I recounted my experiences of capturing the tank crew to the commander of Fourth Army, His Excellency General Sixt von Armin. He shook me by the hand and congratulated me.48
The Germans had captured individual tanks and tankmen in the past, but they had never got their hands on an entire crew. Following their ordeal inside Dragon, Lieutenant Lewis and his men now faced interrogation, and it remained to be seen how much they would reveal about their machine, and about the plans for the battle.
CHAPTER 11
Deborah, the Dead Man and the Drummer
At zero hour, as the northern group began to move forward, the six tanks in the southern group – including the crew of D51 in their replacement machine – were assembled near the site of Janet Farm, ready to advance along the road towards Winnipeg and points beyond. The officer in charge was Captain Graeme Nixon, who had commanded a section in the first attack on 15 September 1916. Unlike the varied fortunes of the northern group, their fate is more easily summarized. In the words of Captain Edward Glanville Smith: ‘Disaster early overtook this detachment. The road along which they worked ended abruptly by disappearing into a complete swamp. The first tank picked its way along till it finally half submerged, and ditched badly. The unditching beam was brought into action, but the mud defied all efforts of the crew. The following five tanks in succession endeavoured to work round it, but only succeeded in getting off the road and becoming more badly ditched and remained so, despite the gallant efforts of the crews under heavy fire.’1 Another account says the first tank in the column broke down, another says it was hit by a shell, but whatever the details, the outcome was the same.2
At 9.10 a.m., the headquarters of 48th Division received a message by carrier pigeon from Second Lieutenant James Clark in D48 Diablo. The tiny slip of paper conveyed a vivid picture of the chaos around him: ‘Have not yet established contact with infantry … Heavy fire on bend of Winnipeg-St. Julien Road. On the whole heavy retaliation. Tanks visible D50, knocked out: D47 ditched: Mr. Macdonald’s ditched: [Mr] Shaw’s ditched: my tank held up by ditched tanks in front and by impassable ground.’3 He could therefore see virtually every tank in the southern group, trapped in the mud and lashed by a ferocious German counter-bombardment. D50 Dandy Dinmont had been knocked out by a direct hit from a shell which wounded its commander, Second Lieutenant Harold Dobinson. D47 Demon, commanded by Second Lieutenant James Vose, had been ditched four times and was now half-submerged with water over its carburettor. Clark himself had become ditched three times and his tank was finally put out of action when a shell splinter punctured its petrol tank. The only tank he could not see, D49 Dollar Princess, had been ditched twice and its massive unditching beam was smashed during attempts to free it.4
Somewhere in this doomed convoy were George Macdonald and the crew of D51. They had ditched twice on their way along the road, but their journey was finally ended by mechanical trouble, with the right track of their substitute tank out of action. D52 Despot, the other tank that was detailed to attack Schuler Farm, was also ditched but the crew managed to extricate it, though not before its commander, Second Lieutenant Harry Shaw, had been wounded in the head and shoulder.5 Despite this he was the only member of the group that made it home, according to a report on the debacle: ‘This was the last tank on the road, and was prevented in any case from going forward owing to the impossibility of passing the ditched tanks in front of it.’6
An aerial photograph shows a mottled moonscape of shell craters traversed by the thin streak of the road from St Julien to Winnipeg, and beside it a string of stranded hulks marked ‘Abandoned tanks’.7 This bleak picture shows the remains of the southern group, but the prospect was far bleaker for the infantry who now had to attack across this pockmarked ground without the promised tank support.
The 5th Bn Royal Warwickshire Regiment were to capture Winnipeg and a nearby German cemetery, as well as some abandoned gunpits to the right of the road, and their War Diary describes what happened: ‘Owing to the tanks being unable to get on, the main objective was not attained. About 9AM the enemy counterattacked strongly and drove us back to our original position.’8 The records show that thirty men from the battalion were killed.
A fuller account was given by Lieutenant Charles Carrington, who fortunately missed the attack as he was away on a training course. Had he taken part, he might not have lived to write his acclaimed memoirs, A Subaltern’s War and Soldier from the Wars Returning. Carrington pieced together what happened from survivors:
The day was disastrous. C Company on the right captured the gunpits, but not a tank reached its objective, so impassable was the mud. The leading platoons of D Company went on alone into a withering fire, and were destroyed – to a man. Six weeks later some of their bodies were found, where they had fallen, far up the slope before the Langemarck line. In accordance with orders no more waves went forward, and many more casualties were caused by the German barrage on the men crouching in shell holes waiting for instructions. A heavy counter-attack drove back C Company for a short time, but they rallied and captured the gunpits a second time … It was found impossible to extend the positions further.9
All that the crews of the ditched tanks could do was dismount their Lewis guns and provide fire support to the infantry from their shell-holes,10 but they were shooting at long range over the heads of the infantry, so it is doubtful if this was of much benefit. However, it was the only contribution to the battle by any of the tanks in the southern group.
This meant the crews were now out in the open and exposed to the full force of the German counter-bombardment, and during the course of this Second Lieutenant George Macdonald, the commander of D51, suffered a wound which finally ended any hopes he may have had of sticking a German in the gizzard. In his own words: ‘I was wounded on Aug 22nd a piece of shell penetrating the lung.’ A medical report makes it clear he had had a narrow escape: ‘He was hit by a fragment of [high explosive] shell which entered his chest below lower angle of left scapula [i.e. shoulder blade] & lodged near front wall of chest as shown by X Rays. There was no haemoptysis [i.e. coughing up of blood], no haemothorax [i.e. collection of blood in the chest cavity], nor any lung symptoms.’ It was his second ‘Blighty’ wound, and from the casualty clearing station he was taken to hospital in Camiers, and from there to England.11
Captain Edward Glanville Smith summed up the overall results of D Battalion’s efforts on 22 August: ‘The net gain on the front during the day was some 200 to 300 yards and, in pr
oportion to this small advance, the casualties were large, especially as regards the crews of Lieuts. Lewis and Lawrie. The crews of the ditched tanks, who had assisted the infantry by forming M.G. posts, were eventually withdrawn to camp – begrimed and “done up” – together with the few surviving tanks. Two valuable lessons had been learnt, (1) the strength of the concreted strong-points of the enemy, and (2) the impossibility of 30 tons of tank to leave the roads and go across the sponge-like shelled marshland.’12
It goes without saying that both these facts should have been obvious beforehand, and they hardly justified the loss of seven of the company’s tanks (not to mention the four damaged at Bellevue), nor the deaths of six men including Lieutenant Lawrie and Sergeant Weeks, nor the capture of the entire crew of D46 Dragon. Three of the six tank commanders in the southern group had been wounded, including Second Lieutenant Macdonald, as well as sixteen other men in the battalion – among them Lance-Corporal Bert Marsden, who may have been in the crew of D51.
The company’s reconnaissance officer, Second Lieutenant Horace Furminger – known as ‘Contours’ because of his pre-war occupation as a map engraver with the Ordnance Survey – was also wounded, and by now he had reached the end of the line. Four days after the attack he applied for a transfer to the Indian Army, but he would have to survive several more battles before he could leave for his new posting with the 26th Punjabis.13
* * *
Although the southern group of D Battalion tanks was out of action, there was still a chance that Schuler Farm could be taken by the tanks of F Battalion and the men of 61st (2nd South Midland) Division. Three battalions of infantry were taking part in this attack: in the first wave was 2/4th Bn Oxfordshire and Buckinghamshire Light Infantry (known as the ‘Ox and Bucks’), followed by 2/4th Bn Royal Berkshire Regiment and then 2/5th Bn Gloucestershire Regiment in support.