by Thomas Wood
“Hello all Tangos. This is Tango One. We’re approaching the border now. Radio check. Over.”
I always got nervous over a breakdown in communication just around this point.
“Hello Tango One. This is Tango One-One. Radio check. Over.”
“Hello Tango One. This is Tango One-Two. Radio check. Over.”
“Hello Tango One. This is Tango One-Three. Radio check. Over.”
Good. They were all still with me; I could hear them, and they could hear me. I didn’t feel quite so alone for a few moments more.
I felt Red pick the engine revs up a few more notches as we steadily climbed the gradual incline.
4
The engine of the tank seemed to have got permanently stuck on loud as we continued our slight incline up the hill. They were good engines in these tanks, but their design for going up and down hills was not the best and so we found that our speed was dramatically reduced for our ascent.
I poked my head out of the turret and had a quick look around. We were slightly ahead of the other three tanks, as if they had misjudged the incline slightly and hadn’t taken it into account. I knew Red was the best driver around.
“Take it down a bit Red, we’re too far ahead of the others.”
He acknowledged by bringing the revs down slightly, hardly noticeable if the sounds of the engine weren’t so loud. I liked being up ahead of the rest of my troop, but equally, I didn’t want to be so far ahead that if I came face to face with an enemy regiment, or tank, that I found myself waiting for the others to catch up before we engaged each other.
As we got closer and closer to the peak of the unusual land formation, I felt my heart begin to flutter intensely, like it did if I was summoned to the headmaster’s office, or as it had done when the CO had called me in.
As commander, there wasn’t a lot for me to do now, except scratch at my face as itch after itch seemed to spring up, probably out of a sense of nervousness and due in part to the copious amounts of grease-filled sweat that had begun trickling down my body. I felt another stream tickle its way down from my armpit, and it was at that moment that I realised how hot I really was, how nervous I really was.
I began trying to distract myself by focusing on what the other two should be doing. I envisaged Red as he fiddled with all the levers and pedals down below, as he guided us in expertly to the top of the hill. I felt Clarkey next to me check for anything that might act as a potential stoppage in his weapons, whilst also checking that a round had already been fed into the guns correctly.
He seemed satisfied with both, letting the cocking handles shoot back to their resting positions with a satisfying clunk. He was ready and so was Red. I only hoped that I would be, by the time we got to the top of the hill.
Red idled the engine once we had got to the crest of the incline.
“Leave it running Red, doubt we’ll be here too long.” I tore my radio off and leapt out of the tank, as I felt the other three do the same. None of us spoke to each other, but instead knelt down in front of our tank, binoculars at the ready.
We stood in front of the tank as, if you were to look from your commander’s position, it was possible that the heat haze from the engine may blur your vision, which wasn’t so much of a problem if you were on the move.
I lifted my binoculars to my eyes and began to pan from left to right, scouring the fields and roads for miles around. It really was a marvellous view.
“That’s the border then chaps. Dead ahead.” I extended my arm out as I spoke, but I knew that none of them would be following my signal.
I felt the excitement and nerves begin to die down with me as we knelt there for a few moments longer and as I calmed down, I instructed the drivers to shut down their engines. They too hopped out for a breath of fresher air and began to take sips from their canteens. None of them strayed too far from their tanks this time, and I didn’t think Red would be needing to take a trip to the bushes either. We needed to be ready to go at a moment’s notice.
Where were they? They should have been here.
I hoped that I had got my map reading correct and momentarily lowered my binoculars to let my eyes recover and my mind think clearer. Just as I did so, I got a shout.
“There!” It was Sergeant Fryer, commander of Tango One-Three. “Just to the north slightly, coming down that main road. Straight towards us!”
I immediately shot my binoculars back to my eyes, as I heard Red scream at the others to load up.
“Yep! Got ‘em!” shouted Corporal Payne, commander of Tango One-Two. I got a similar acknowledgement from Sergeant Rootes, the final commander of my troop. Eventually, I spotted it too.
There was a large column up ahead, and I was amazed that Fryer had been able to spot it so early on. They were moving slowly and were still probably quite a few miles from where we were. I made a mental note of how far I thought they were, ready to plot them back on the map.
“Let’s go then boys!” I screamed and, as one, we turned and hopped back into our Mark VIs.
“Ooh I love this bit! Come on then girl! Yeehaa!” Screamed Red as he pushed the tank round so that we had our backs to the advancing Germans, ready to beat a hasty retreat. Me too, I loved it for a different reason to Red. He loved the excitement of feeling like we were being chased and being able to push the tank to the very limits of her capabilities. I loved it because we were still alive, and we hadn’t driven round a corner to find a whole German garrison pointing their weapons in our faces. Nonetheless, we all loved it.
The engine continued screaming as Red began hollering the Ride of the Valkyrie at the top of his voice as we charged back along the countryside that we had just come. He had a knack of doing things like this when he really shouldn’t, but at the same time, if he hadn’t have done it, I probably would have missed it greatly.
“Red knock it off mate.” He did as he was told. It was not because I didn’t enjoy his rendition, in fact I actively encouraged it during training as it inspired us all, but it was so distracting while I was trying to plot where we had seen the enemy. It was also irritating when I was trying to raise HQ if I had an overexcited Geordie humming away in the background.
“Hello Tango, Hello Tango. This is Tango One, do you receive? Over.” I knew there was little point in me sending a report this early on, chances were we were still out of range, but it was always best to check just in case by some miracle I got through.
I carried on staring at my map, before checking that we were still on the right heading, we didn’t want to end up in front of German troops instead of our own all of a sudden.
“All okay, Red, keep going.”
The engine screamed as we flew across the open ground, quicker than I felt like we had ever done before. I could feel every link in the tracks as they rumbled their way around beneath us, squealing in agony at the strain we must have been putting them under. I wondered if Red was having a more uncomfortable time than us right now, sitting directly above the tracks, I was almost certain that he would be feeling every bump and groove in the ground that was possible. I risked poking my head out to see where the others were and instantly regretted it. The cool air that pummelled my face sent my tear ducts into overdrive and I almost immediately ducked back down again, making sure I put my goggles on before pulling myself back up.
We were all neck and neck, as if the drivers were all driving in formation for a parade. None of us was lagging behind and no one had broken down yet. Satisfied all was going as well as it could be, I ducked back down again and began to plot a route for the regiment to advance along. I would pick the route that would be the quickest to get there, but also provide the fewest obstacles to pass through, such as small villages.
All of a sudden, I felt immensely powerful. I often thought that holding this much power would feel good, that I would feel like a great military commander like Nelson or Wellington, ready to direct his troops into battle that will end ultimately in victory. But what I was experiencing was the
complete opposite of that, I felt scared and overwhelmed.
I was in charge of the entire regiment, I was leading them all into battle, and I had only just turned twenty-two. I had the weight of these men’s lives on my shoulders, it would be me who would be ultimately responsible if their run in was incorrect or ill-judged. Maybe I wasn’t cut out to be a Brigadier after all.
“Hello Tango. Hello Tango. This is Tango One. Do you receive me? Over.”
It was worth a shot. I waited for a few seconds, which must have been the time that the radio operator took to pull himself together as I suddenly got a response.
“Hello Tango One. This is Tango. Send. Over.”
“Made visual contact with German armour on the border with Belgium. Fast approaching towards Arras. Suggest defensive line in and around Arras to meet them. Recommend start line as Arras-Doullens railway. Over.”
“Roger that Tango One. Will inform the boss. Over.”
I let my finger hover over the railway that I had just given as a start point for our run in to Arras. My gut feeling was that the armoured column would head there first, which meant that we would be able to meet them as they made their way out of the east side.
“Hello all Tangos. This is Tango One. Made contact with HQ. Make for Arras-Doullens railway. Over.”
We carried on flying through at an amazing speed and I allowed myself a few moments of relaxation to recover and take in everything that had just happened. I had chosen the railway as from there, on the approach to Arras, there was a slight incline similar to the one we had just climbed, which overlooked the main road out of the town.
If we could get there, and situate ourselves on the top of the hill, we should have a fish in barrel scenario, and even the relatively useless Mark VIs that we were in might be able to score a kill or two. In any case, even if we caused some minor disruption, then hopefully it would knock the wind out of the enemy’s sails a bit and make them think twice before charging towards our forces again.
I tried to take another sip of water in an attempt to quench the barrenness of my tongue, but as I did so, my radio sparked up again.
“Hello Tango One. This is Tango. Boss acknowledges Arras-Doullens railway as start line. Over.”
Good, the boss agreed with me. That meant that we would get there with other British forces, and not all on our own.
“Roger that Tango. Out.”
That would be it for now, we would have no other contact with headquarters unless something very urgent came up, like we were ambushed, or the regiment was withdrawn from the line with immediate effect. Both very real possibilities.
For now, though, it would just be us, Tangos one to three, charging across the French countryside in the weirdest race of my life to date. There was nothing I could do now, except put all of my faith in Red and the other drivers, and hopefully we would make it.
5
We were all at the start line, raring to go, about forty of our tanks, all revving and roaring in anticipation of the starting pistol. I felt apprehensive and sick as we all sat there, just waiting; this was all down to me, I had ordered this, I had given the starting point and the enemy location. If this was wrong, then I would wish myself dead, as I wouldn’t want to see the death and destruction of our regiment if I had miscalculated something.
I checked and re-checked the map that I had plotted on, constantly questioning myself as I did so. Had I missed something? Had the enemy actually been travelling in that direction or had I got my bearings wrong? What could I do about it now if I was wrong?
I decided that if I had got it wrong, then it wouldn’t be entirely my fault, my NCOs were plotting their route as well and should have picked up on it. The fact that they hadn’t, filled me with a half-confidence that I hadn’t got it wrong and that I was right in my assumption to launch an attack from this railway line.
We all idled our engines, in double file, the road just wide enough to accommodate two tanks, side by side. Red started humming, faintly to begin with, before growing in volume bit by bit. I couldn’t work out what exactly he was humming, and I was unsure even he knew himself, instead opting for a made-up tune to fill the silence. He always liked to hum tunes, either when he was overly excited or if he was incredibly nervous, this time it would definitely be the latter.
He was an excellent tank driver, but sometimes, when you have the reputation of being brilliant at something, it also adds a lot of pressure, which, on the eve of a battle, quite quickly translates to apprehension. It was the same with me and my map reading capabilities; I knew I was good enough, I knew that the route I had planned was the right one, but that doubt in my mind continued to grow the more I thought about it.
As we approached H-Hour, we moved up to our final staging position, right by the level crossing. From inside the tank, and being so far back in the column, I could neither hear nor see the level crossing that intersected the road we were on.
“Lieutenant Lewis, come up to the front of the column for a second will you? I need a word.” The voice of Major Perkins sounded stern and deadly serious. Either I was in for a rollicking or he had just received some disturbing news from somewhere.
As I approached the head of the column, I could make out Perkins standing, facing the level crossing, with his hands on his hips, some of his other officers standing around him. As I got closer, I began to make out the faint ding, ding, ding, of a bell and saw that the level crossing gates had been drawn, as if a train was about to come charging through.
“What do you propose we do about this, Lewis?” queried the Major, broad smile now sweeping across his face. “This wasn’t part of your plan was it!” I wondered what he wanted me to say, I was fairly confident that no trains would be running, but I couldn’t help but visualise my map again, to see if there was anywhere that we could realistically stage an advance from, that was safely away from the track.
“Allow me, Sir,” I heard Captain Reynolds say, as he leapt towards his tank, the first one in the steel queue that we had formed.
After a second or two, his engine roared, and I could have sworn that I saw the front of the tank rear up like a horse, before it thundered its way across the ground, pummelling the gates into nothing more than a pile of splinters.
“That’s what I like to see gentlemen! Fear Naught! Let’s go!”
We charged back to our respective tanks as Reynolds waited for us all on the other side. Once I was safely back in my Mark VI, the radio sparked up.
“Gentlemen, apparently all trains are cancelled today courtesy of Captain Reynolds. Good luck and let them have everything!”
I felt sick once again as we lurched forwards, Red doing his best to make sure we caught up with the others and that we weren’t the only ones left behind.
“Tango One, hang back a bit with your boys, I’ll call you up when you’re needed. Over.”
“Roger that Tango.”
The radio sparked up with various callsigns as the Major issued more instructions to the tanks that he had at his disposal. Most were simply reiterating instructions that he had passed on before the attack, making sure that everyone knew what their part was going to be in this. I knew why we held back slightly. Our tiny machine guns weren’t going to be too much help if we came up against German armour and so, we would keep our distance, letting the big guns do their job until we were called in to hose down the area.
I preferred it that way anyway, the inner coward in me relishing in the idea that if all of our armour was taken out, it would give us enough time to turn around and scarper as quickly as possible. I also liked the idea of going in to clean up, after all the more damaging and lethal enemy weapons had been dealt with. I felt guilty for feeling like it sometimes, but my job was to seek out the enemy, with little defence myself, something which some of the boys in the Matildas had passionately expressed their gratitude at us doing it and not them.
I supposed we all displayed courage and cowardice in different ways in this regiment.
&nb
sp; I felt the pitch in the engine changed to a much higher note, as we began to climb the slight incline to where the top of the bank would meet the road that would lead to Arras. We would continue travelling East till we got to it, at which point we would head down the bank, turn left onto the road and head north into Arras itself, where we would hopefully engage the enemy.
As we made it into more open and flat terrain, I heard the Major’s upbeat voice crackle over the radio. “Flatter terrain now everyone, spread out. Spread out.”
As he finished his command, I risked poking my head from the turret and I was able to catch the manoeuvre of the tanks as they began to fan out one by one, until it was only us in the recce troop, with our lighter tanks, that formed a second wave of armour.
The top of the bank was only a matter of yards away now, and we’d be on top of it in less than sixty seconds. As we approached it, the speed of our tanks slowed slightly, like they were preparing themselves for the one last sprint that would take us into Arras itself.
The front rank of tanks reached the top of the bank and immediately the order was given to fire.
“Alf! Get your boys up here now!” I daren’t risk the wrath of Major Perkins and so immediately I made sure that our tank was giving everything it had to make it alongside the other tanks, I knew that the others would be doing exactly the same thing, they had heard his order.
As we slotted our way in between two Matildas, I could hear that all the fire was coming from our side, nothing was being directed back at us. Alan began firing off rounds next to me as he picked up the MG and I wondered what he, and all the others, were firing at exactly.
“Get ‘em all Clarkey!” Red’s voice screamed above the din.
I peeked out of the slight hatch that the commander had to peer out of, with only a limited field of view offered to him. What I could see from my restricted viewpoint was astounding. The road that ran north, into Arras, the very road we were about to turn onto, was stuffed full of German vehicles, I had never seen so many before in my life.
