Therefore, the Tanks claim no share in the Canadians’ brilliant and historic taking of the ridge.
So great was the Canadians’ élan, and so successful was our barrage, that by the time the Tanks were extricated there was happily no rôle for them to play. They were, therefore, withdrawn as quickly as possible, and were, after all, sent down to reinforce the 5th Army.
With the 3rd Army, several Tanks performed interesting exploits.
Second Lieutenant Weber’s Tank, “Lusitania,” for example, spent an exciting and profitable two days. This machine was some three hours late in starting owing to trouble with the secondary gear. Just as it was getting off, word was brought that the infantry was held up. The arrival of the Tank effected an entire change in the situation, and a machine-gun placed in a wood north of the railway having been silenced by the Tank’s 6-pounder fire, it proceeded towards the Blue Line. The infantry advanced at the same time, and both reached the next enemy trench together.
The movement was carried out in such close alignment that the Tank was prevented from making use of its guns and enfilading the trench, but the Germans, unable to face the combined attack, held up their hands and surrendered. The Tank then cruised along the railway towards Fleury Redoubt, firing as it went with its 6-pounder and Lewis guns. The Germans made haste to evacuate the Redoubt, and could be seen to take refuge in a dug-out close to a railway arch.
The Tank drew on towards the arch, firing in its progress at any object suggesting a machine-gun emplacement. Near the arch it found itself under our own barrage and also shelled by an anti-Tank gun. It accordingly wheeled about, reclimbed the slope it had just descended, and signalled to the infantry to come on. Then, returning to the arch, it mounted guard while the infantry unearthed the Germans who had taken refuge in the dug-out. This point disposed of and a steep bank hindering further advance, it was found necessary to take a southerly course to find a more possible place for climbing, the engine having become badly overheated. Indeed, so hot was it that the machine now jibbed at the easiest exit from the valley that could be found, and there was nothing for it but to wait until the engine should cool down.
On the instant that the Tank Commander announced his decision to lie-up, down dropped each man of the crew where he sat or stood, overcome by heat and the cumulative exhaustion of days and nights of almost ceaseless preparation.
Shells whined and droned overhead, and would now and again pitch in the valley on this or that side of the Tank, throwing up a brown cascade of earth with a reverberating crash.
Along the western bank of the valley were the excavated and concreted pits that had sheltered the enemy’s guns for two and a half years. From some the pieces had been withdrawn, in others our fire had caught the gunners and their teams in the very act, and the valley bottom was strewn with tragic heaps—guns, limbers, men and horses, huddled together in shapeless tangles of brown and grey, or tossed apart to lie singed and torn amongst the short grass and the shell-holes.
Down near the railway arch through which the valley track led to the river Scarpe, one diminutive Highlander had paraded a drove of some 200 prisoners who had somehow come under his sole charge.