Rolling death

Yesterday marked the 100^th anniversary of the first use of tanks in warfare. The British Army sent 49 Mark I models into action against the Germans near Flers-Courcelette as part of the Battle of the Somme.

They were slow (maximum speed in optimal conditions, 4 MPH), cumbersome, and their eight-men crews were in almost as much danger from various gases generated by the beast (including carbon monoxide, fuel and oil vapors and cordite fumes) as they were from enemy fire. The noise from the engine was deafening, and that was before they began firing its various cannon or machine guns.

The Mark I’s metal armor protected against small arms, but it was vulnerable to armor-piercing bullets and grenades. And remember: at 4 MPH it could be outrun by determined infantry.

At any rate, by mid-September of 1916, the Battle of the Somme had dragged on for two and a half months with no discernable change in the lines. Adding tanks to the mix of artillery bombardment and infantry attacks was the Brits’ attempt to achieve the mythical breakthrough on the Western Front. However, of the 49 brought to the front, 17 broke down before they could enter the battle and only nine made it to the enemy lines.

They did not accomplish their goal. As so often happened during the war in general and on the Somme in particular, the army failed to exploit any holes punched in the enemy’s line, and things reverted to status quo.

It would take years for military leaders to understand how to use tanks effectively. They were deployed with better results a year later at Cambrai, and then again in 1918 at Soissons. But their real capabilities weren’t appreciated until the interwar years. J.F.C. Fuller of Britain and Heinz Guderian of Germany laid out the framework for deploying bigger, faster and more powerful tanks, which led to Blitzkrieg in the early years of World War II, and monster battles like Kursk, Caen and El Alamein.

To mark the centenary of Courcelette, a Mark IV tank replica spent some time yesterday in Trafalgar Square, next to one of its great-grandchildren, a present-day Challenger 2. (The Mark IV began service in 1917; this replica was used in the film Warhorse.)

This amateur video shows it arriving at Trafalgar. I don’t think it does justice to the amount of noise that an original would have generated, but still:

Have a look at this photo (from The Scotsman) of two soldiers from the Royal Tank Regiment, and imagine them and six other men crammed into that cacophonous, poisonous metal crate, clanking blindly and slowly into enemy fire.

It would be like being strapped inside a moving MRI machine that was pumping carbon monoxide and petrol fumes into your lungs, and taking you directly into the worst place on the battlefield. God have mercy.