V
The second phase of the attack, which started four hours after zero, was very different from the first. The mist which had hampered but concealed our approach had now given place to brilliant sunshine. The enemy had had ample warning and had time to dispose his “stout-hearted artillery and machine-gunners” to meet the advance. In these conditions his resistance stiffened. With the Australians,[71] “Enemy field batteries firing over open sights engaged and knocked out Tanks, some in the neighbourhood of Bayonvillers and near Cérisy Village. The crews were, however, in many cases able to move forward with their Hotchkiss guns and put the hostile batteries out of action. The surviving Tanks pressed on to the final objective, the Australian infantry being quick to seize the openings that had been made.”
The final objective allotted to the 2nd Tank Battalion was Harbonnières Village.
The machine-gun and artillery fire had been heavy. However, the first-wave Tanks rallied at the Cérisy Valley and with the rest of the Battalion launched the attack on the second objective.
Lieut.-Colonel Bryce led his Tanks triumphantly to the successive capture of all the objectives allotted to them—Warfusée, Lamotte, Bayonvillers, and a number of other villages.
At last they reached Harbonnières, their last objective, and, still on foot, Colonel Bryce entered the place with his leading Tanks and ran up an Australian flag over the village.
In the naïve words of “Honours and Awards,” “This had a most stimulating effect on every one.”
In the same sector, Lieutenant Percy Eade and his Tank (of the 2nd Battalion) appear to have captured a village single-handed, and, best of all, to have solemnly demanded a receipt upon handing it over to the Australians.
[72]“During the attack on the 8th inst. this officer showed great initiative, skill and bravery in dealing with unexpected resistance by the enemy.
“On being informed by the infantry that Marcelcave was still holding out and was endangering their right flank, he arranged a scheme of attack with the infantry commander and proceeded to quell the opposition. He destroyed at least six machine-guns with their crews, besides taking many prisoners. He then handed over the village to the infantry, from whom he took a receipt. After regaining his position and during the second phase of the attack, he heard opposition coming from Bayonvillers, so he proceeded towards that village. As he was approaching it from the south-west he discovered a group of three light field guns, two of which were firing at him at short range. These guns had already knocked out several Tanks. With great gallantry and determination he manœuvred his Tank in their direction, and so directed the fire of his own guns that he dispersed the gunners. After running over one of the field guns, he proceeded into the village, where his Tank was directly responsible for capturing at least forty of the enemy.
“Throughout the whole of the operation, this Tank Commander set his crew a magnificent example of courage and determination. (Immediate Reward.)”
The 13th Battalion History is particularly full of allusions to the excellence of their relations with their battle partners, the Australians.
All Tanks of this Battalion displayed on a painted board the colours of their own infantry, of whom one N.C.O. stayed with each crew and rode as an observer in the Tank on the day of battle. It may here be noted that these Australian N.C.O.’s were of the greatest use in keeping touch with the infantry, and incidentally returned to their units with a largely enhanced opinion of the courage and endurance of the Tank Corps personnel.
In the second phase one Tank was of service in keeping touch between two Companies of infantry, until a gap in the line could be closed.
With the Canadians, the second phase was equally hot. A typical action was fought by a machine belonging to the 14th Battalion.
[73]“Second Lieutenant Gould’s Tank was pushing on towards the Red Line, which overlooked the valley running south. Here the enemy were found to be organising for a counter-attack. Enemy transport with a large number of stragglers, estimated at 1000, was in full retreat up the road, and in the valley itself a force estimated at half a battalion was forming up and being reinforced by other parties coming over the hill in rear. All the time this Tank was under heavy fire from machine-guns and snipers from the left flank and rear. Fire was opened with 6-pounders on the transport and direct hits observed. M.G. fire was also directed with good effect on the excellent targets in the valley, causing confusion and disorganisation in the enemy ranks. With the prolonged running at high speed the interior of the Tank rapidly became unbearable through heat and petrol fumes, and the crew were forced to evacuate it and to take cover underneath. At this moment two of the crew were wounded, one was sick, one fainted and one was delirious. Fortunately, before the enemy could take advantage of the lull, two Whippet Tanks and a body of cavalry came up, and the enemy in the valley began to retreat over the hill.”
The 1st Tank Battalion, with the Canadians, suffered extremely severely.
[74]“Owing to the French having been held up, the British were subjected to a heavy enfilade fire from the villages of Beaucourt and Le Quesneu and nine of the eleven Tanks belonging to ‘A’ Company received direct hits from a field battery firing over open sights from Le Quesneu. The majority caught fire and were burnt out, and very severe casualties resulted, three out of the four Section Commanders being killed and the remaining one wounded and captured. This disaster was followed by a particularly heroic action on the part of Second Lieutenant Cassell, who observed the destructive fire of the battery, and, passing through the burning victims of its shells, steered straight on to it, in an attempt to avenge the destruction of his comrades. His heroism was in vain, for before he had proceeded many yards he received a shell through the front of his Tank which put it out of action and killed Second Lieutenant Cassell and most of his crew.”
Meanwhile, the Whippets and the cavalry had pushed forward.
They and the armoured cars were to press on beyond the limits of the infantry and heavy Tank attack.
Generally the Whippets were to precede the cavalry, in order to silence machine-guns, deal with wire, if any, and generally to pave the way.
In practice, however:
[75]“Difficulty was found in maintaining touch with cavalry owing to the impossibility of keeping up with galloping horsemen on the one hand, and to the impossibility of a mounted advance in the face of heavy machine-gun fire on the other hand. Thus, two sections of ‘C’ Company, 3rd Battalion lost touch with their cavalry in climbing a steep hill out of Ignaucourt Valley.”
There were, in fact, innumerable instances of liaison difficulties.
“Another Company was ordered to obtain touch with 3rd Cavalry Brigade, but on reporting to the rendezvous, no cavalry was seen.
“Zero hour had been postponed three hours, but this was not known till later.
“Being unable to obtain touch with the cavalry, assistance was rendered about noon to Canadian infantry attacking Beaufort and Warvillers. This attack was successful and Whippets rendered great assistance.”
Far happier was the lot of certain Whippets which played an independent part. The following is a first-hand account of the adventures of one such machine, the ever-to-be-remembered Whippet, “Musical Box.”
SMOKE SCREEN AND SEMAPHORE
A TANKADROME
As the story will show, for many months no news was obtained of the fate of the machine or of her crew of one officer, Lieutenant C. B. Arnold, and two men, Gunner Ribbans and Driver Carney, and it was not till January 1919 that the following amazing tale appeared in Weekly Tank Notes:—
“On August 8, 1918, I commanded Whippet ‘Musical Box’ in ‘B’ Company, 6th Battalion. We left the lying-up point at zero (4.20 p.m.) and proceeded across country to the south side of the railway at Villers-Bretonneux. We crossed the railway, in column of sections, by the bridge on the eastern outskirts of the town. I reached the British front line and passed through the Australian infantry and some of our heavy Tanks (Mark V.), in company with the remainder of the Whippets of ‘B’ Company. Four sections of ‘B’ Company proceeded parallel with the railway (Amiens-Ham) across country due east. After proceeding about 2000 yards in this direction I found myself to be the leading machine, owing to the others having become ditched, etc. To my immediate front I could see more Mark V. Tanks being followed very closely by Australian infantry. About this time we came under direct shell-fire from a 4-gun field battery, of which I could see the flashes, between Abancourt and Bayonvillers. Two Mark V. Tanks, on my right, were knocked out. I saw clouds of smoke coming out of these machines and the crews evacuate them. The infantry following the heavy machines were suffering casualties from this battery. I turned half-left and ran diagonally across the front of the battery, at a distance of about 600 yards. Both my guns were able to fire on the battery, in spite of which they got off about eight rounds at me without damage, but sufficiently close to be audible inside the cab, and I could see the flash of each gun as it fired. By this time I had passed behind a belt of trees running along a roadside. I ran along this belt until level with the battery, when I turned full-right and engaged the battery in rear. On observing our appearance from the belt of trees, the gunners, some thirty in number, abandoned their guns and tried to get away. Gunner Ribbans and I accounted for the whole lot. I cruised forward, making a detour to the left, and shot a number of the enemy, who appeared to be demoralised, and were moving about the country in all directions. This detour brought me back to the railway siding N.N.W. of Guillaucourt. I could now see other Whippets coming up and a few Mark V.’s also. The Australian infantry, who followed magnificently, had now passed through the battery position which we had accounted for and were lying in a sunken road about 400 yards past the battery and slightly to the left of it. I got out of my machine and went to an Australian full Lieutenant and asked if he wanted any help. Whilst talking to him, he received a bullet which struck the metal shoulder title, a piece of the bullet-casing entering his shoulder. While he was being dressed, Major Rycroft (horse) and Lieutenant Waterhouse (Tanks) and Captain Strachan of ‘B’ Company, 6th Battalion, arrived and received confirmation from the Australian officer of our having knocked out the field battery. I told Major Rycroft what we had done, and then moved off again at once, as it appeared to be unwise for four machines (Lieutenant Watkins had also arrived) to remain stationary at one spot. I proceeded parallel with the railway embankment in an easterly direction, passing through two cavalry patrols of about twelve men each. The first patrol was receiving casualties from a party of enemy in a field of corn. I dealt with this, killing three or four, the remainder escaping out of sight into the corn. Proceeding further east, I saw the second patrol pursuing six enemy. The leading horse was so tired that he was not gaining appreciably on the rearmost Hun. Some of the leading fugitives turned about and fired at the cavalryman when his sword was stretched out and practically touching the back of the last Hun. Horse and rider were brought down on the left of the road. The remainder of the cavalrymen deployed to right, coming in close under the railway embankment, where they dismounted and came under fire from the enemy, who had now taken up a position on the railway bridge, and were firing over the parapet, inflicting one or two casualties. I ran the machine up until we had a clear view of the bridge, and killed four of the enemy with one long burst, the other two running across the bridge and on down the opposite slope out of sight. On our left I could see, about three-quarters of a mile away, a train on fire being towed by an engine. I proceeded further east, still parallel to the railway, and approached carefully a small valley marked on my map as containing Boche hutments. As I entered the valley (between Bayonvillers and Harbonnières) at right angles, many enemy were visible packing kits and others retiring. On our opening fire on the nearest, many others appeared from huts, making for the end of the valley, their object being to get over the embankment and so out of our sight. We accounted for many of these. I cruised round, Ribbans went into one of the huts and returned, and we counted about sixty dead and wounded. There were evidences of shell-fire amongst the huts, but we certainly accounted for most of the casualties counted there. I turned left from the railway and cruised across country, as lines of enemy infantry could be seen retiring. We fired at these many times at ranges of 200 yards to 600 yards. These targets were fleeting, owing to the enemy getting down into the corn when fired on. In spite of this, many casualties must have been inflicted, as we cruised up and down for at least an hour. I did not see any more of our troops or machines after leaving the cavalry patrols already referred to. During the cruising, being the only machine to get through, we invariably received intense rifle and machine-gun fire. I would here beg to suggest that no petrol be carried on the outside of the machine, as under orders we were carrying nine tins of petrol on the roof, for refilling purposes when well into the enemy lines (should opportunity occur). The perforated tins allowed the petrol to run all over the cab. These fumes, combined with the intense bullet splash and the great heat after being in action (by this time) nine to ten hours, made it necessary at this point to breathe through the mouth-piece of the box respirator, without actually wearing the mask.
MOVING UP. BATTLE OF AMIENS
THE ARMOURED CARS GOING UP
“At 2 p.m. or thereabouts I again proceeded east, parallel to the railway and about 100 yards north of it. I could see a large aerodrome and also an observation balloon at a height of about 200 ft. I could also see great quantities of motor and horse transport moving in all directions. Over the top of another ridge on my left I could see the cover of a lorry coming in my direction; I moved up out of sight and waited until he topped the bridge, when I shot the driver. The lorry ran into a right-hand ditch. The railway had now come out of the cutting in which it had rested all the while, and I could see both sides of it. I could see a long line of men retiring on both sides of the railway, and fired at these at ranges of 400 to 500 yards, inflicting heavy casualties. I passed through these and also accounted for one horse and the driver of a two-horse canvas-covered wagon on the far side of the railway. We now crossed a small road which crossed the main railway, and came in view of large horse and wagon lines—which ran across the railway and close to it. Gunner Ribbans (R.H. gun) here had a view of south side of railway and fired continuously into motor and horse transport moving on three roads (one north and south, one almost parallel to the railway, and one diagonally between these two). I fired many bursts at 600 to 800 yards at transport blocking roads on my left, causing great confusion. Rifle and machine-gun fire was not heavy at this time, owing to our sudden appearance, as the roads were all banked up in order to cross the railway. There were about twelve men in the middle aisle of these lines. I fired a long burst at these. Some went down and others got in amongst the wheels and undergrowth. I turned quarter-left towards a small copse, where there were more horses and men, about 200 yards away. On the way across we met the most intense rifle and machine-gun fire imaginable from all sides. When at all possible, we returned the fire, until the L.H. revolver port cover was shot away. I withdrew the forward gun, locked the mounting and held the body of the gun against the hole. Petrol was still running down the inside of the back door. Fumes and heat combined were very bad. We were still moving forward and I was shouting to Driver Carney to turn about, as it was impossible to continue the action, when two heavy concussions closely followed one another and the cab burst into flames. Carney and Ribbans got to the door and collapsed. I was almost overcome, but managed to get the door open and fell out on to the ground, and was able to drag out the other two men. Burning petrol was running on to the ground where we were lying. The fresh air revived us, and we all got up and made a short rush to get away from the burning petrol. We were all on fire. In this rush Carney was shot in the stomach and killed. We rolled over and over to try to extinguish the fumes. I saw numbers of the enemy approaching from all round. The first arrival came for me with a rifle and bayonet. I got hold of this, and the point of the bayonet entered my right forearm. The second man struck at my head with the butt end of his rifle, hit my shoulder and neck, and knocked me down. When I came to, there were dozens all round me, and any one who could reach me did so and I was well kicked. They were furious. Ribbans and I were taken away and stood by ourselves about twenty yards clear of the crowd. An argument ensued, and we were eventually marched to a dug-out where paper bandages were put on our hands. Our faces were left as they were. We were then marched down the road to the main railway. There we joined a party of about eight enemy, and marched past a field kitchen, where I made signs for food. We had had nothing since 8.30 p.m. on the night previous to the action, and it was 3.30 p.m. when we were set on fire. We went on to a village where, on my intelligence map, a Divisional Headquarters had been marked. An elderly stout officer interrogated me, asking if I was an officer. I said ‘Yes.’ He then asked various other questions, to which I replied, ‘I do not know.’ He said, ‘Do you mean you do not know or you will not tell me?’ I said, ‘You can take it whichever way you wish.’ He then struck me in the face, and went away. We went on to Chaulone to a canvas hospital, on the right side of the railway, where I was injected with anti-tetanus. Later I was again interrogated, with the same result as above, except that instead of being struck, I received five days’ solitary confinement in a room with no window, and only a small piece of bread and a bowl of soup each day. On the fifth day I was again interrogated, and said the same as before. I said that he had no right to give me solitary confinement, and that unless I were released, I should, at first opportunity, report him to the highest possible authority. The next day I was sent away, and eventually reached the camp at Freiburg, when I found my brother, Captain A. E. Arnold, M.C., Tank Corps. The conduct of Gunner Ribbans and Driver Carney was beyond all praise throughout. Driver Carney drove from Villers-Bretonneux onwards.
“(Signed) C. B. Arnold, Lieut.,
“6th Tank Battalion.
“January 1, 1919.”
The Tank was found close to the small railway on the eastern side of the Harbonnières-Rosières Road.