“‘Old Mother Hubbard’ they called her and lots of other funny names as well. She looked like a pantomime animal or a walking ship with iron sides moving along, very slow, apparently all on her own, and with none of her crew visible. There she was, groanin’ and gruntin’ along, pokin’ her nose here and there, stopping now and then as if she was not sure of the road, and then going on—very slow, but over everything.
“It was her slowness that scared us as much as anything, and the way she shook her wicked old head and stopped to cough. It was a circus—my word! I only saw her for about ten minutes. She came humping out of the fog at one end of the line and humped into it again at the other. The last I saw of her was when she was nosing down a shell crater like a great big hippopotamus with a crowd of Tommies cheering behind.”
To the British High Command the Tanks appeared as engines of war which showed considerable promise. They must overcome certain mechanical weaknesses, and tactics must be further modified to suit their peculiarities. The G.H.Q. attitude was, in short, that of men satisfied, though not enthusiastic, and was well expressed by Sir Douglas Haig in his Somme Despatch:
“Our new heavily armoured cars, known as ‘Tanks,’ now brought into action for the first time, successfully co-operated with the infantry, and coming as a surprise to the enemy rank and file, gave valuable help in breaking down their resistance.”
The despatch goes on to mention the taking of Flers.
The delight of the British and French Press knew no bounds. The correspondents threw up their hats and set to ransack their dictionaries for octosyllables in which to describe the new “All British” destroyer of Germans.
It was “Diplodocus Galumphant,” it was a “Polychromatic Toad.” It was a “flat-footed monster” which “performed the most astonishing feats of agility as it advanced, spouting flames from every side.”
“It ‘leant’ against a wall until it fell and then crawled over the fallen débris.
“It went irresistibly through High Wood, the trees smashing like matchwood before it.
“It went up to machine-gun emplacements, ‘crushed the gun under its ribs,’ and passed on, spitting death at the demoralised Germans.