Chapter XIV

MISCELLANEOUS. THE GERMANS AND THE TANK: THE FRENCH ARTILLERIE D’ASSAUT.

I.

The battle of Cambrai having converted not only ourselves but also the enemy to a belief in the tactical and moral value of the new arm, it will be convenient at this point to deal with the German attitude toward tanks and the measures adopted to cope with the latter.

It often is assumed that the German conversion was yet more grudging than our own; that until Cambrai they refused to admit that tanks had any value whatever; and that even after that battle they remained for some time very sceptical about the new doctrines. But I think these are only half-truths. I think the Germans realised far sooner than we did the moral influence of the attack by armour, while failing perhaps to appreciate until it was too late the complete tactical revolution it was bringing about. In the end they became more bigoted converts than any British soldier outside the Tank Corps itself. I spent six months with the Army of Occupation in Cologne, and I found everywhere the same bitter feelings about tanks. “Deutsches’ Tod” they were called--the Death of Germany. In private conversation, as well as in public print, they were coupled with the blockade as one of the two chief factors in the downfall of the country. With that extraordinary but quite sincere inability to understand any point of view but their own, the authors of the Belgian atrocities, the inventors of chlorine gas, the first people to poison wells, one and all are inclined to regard the use of tanks as a brutal and unjustifiable measure, worthy only of savages. A nation so illogical should be capable, through sheer thick-headedness, of going very far.

The early appreciation by the Germans of the moral effect of tanks is manifest in their repeated efforts to belittle them. The brave Michael was always being assured in published orders that these machines were worse than useless. “The infantry must not let itself be frightened by tanks. The fighting capacity of the tank is small owing to the bad visibility, and the shooting powers of the machine-guns and guns cramped and inaccurate as the result of the motion. It has been proved that tank crews are nervous and are inclined to turn back or leave the tank.... The hostile infantry follows tanks only half-heartedly....” (Order issued to the 7th Cavalry Division, 26th September 1917.) The Mark II. tanks captured at Arras, and the Mark IV.’s left behind after the Cambrai withdrawal, were used to demonstrate the inherent weaknesses of the invention and the extreme discomfort endured by the crews. It was found, however, that with all this the Higher Command was unable to infect the German soldier with its own lofty contempt for tanks. The brave Michael persisted in his delusions, and was so wrong-headed even as to ask why the enemy was allowed a monopoly of these engines of war. It must be remembered that by the autumn of 1917 the French St Chamond and Schneider machines had been used in some numbers and with considerable success in Champagne, so that the German infantryman saw himself threatened everywhere by the new weapon; and he knew perfectly well that as an individual he was entirely helpless against it, whatever might be the general outcome of a battle in which it was employed. He could not acquire the detached outlook of the Great General Staff at Spa. And it was in consequence of this feeling in the subordinate ranks that, before the battle of Cambrai, the Great General Staff stultified all its own published convictions by authorising the construction of German tanks. There can be no doubt that this measure, half-hearted as it was, arose out of some sort of pressure from below. The Higher Command was still unconvinced, but it was necessary for the encouragement of the less intelligent to make a pretence of conversion. A good deal of talk, a little work, and the eventual appearance of a few German tanks behind the line would counteract these mischievous apprehensions--or so it was hoped.

The German Tank Corps bore all the marks of an indifferent, if not inimical parentage. In the beginning it was quite a small affair, and any subsequent attempts to enlarge it to adequate proportions came too late or were hampered by lack of means. An official German document states that only 15 machines were ever completed. Ten more apparently were under order in the autumn of 1918, by which date 25 captured British Mark IV. tanks had also been included in the new unit. The total of effectives (40) was divided into eight sections--or, as the Germans happily named them, _Sturmpanzerkraftwagenabteilungen_. (One would think this mouthful alone sufficient to deter recruits.) There were three sections of German tanks and five of British, each section consisting of five machines. An M.T. Testing Company stationed near Berlin instructed the crews and tested all tanks before issue.

The original German _Panzerkraftwagen_ was a clumsy machine, based, it is said, on stolen drawings of the French St Chamond type. It weighed approximately 40 tons, was 24 feet long, 11 feet high, and 10 feet 6 inches wide. On good ground it could travel for a short distance at a speed of 8-10 miles an hour. It was propelled by two 100-h.p. German Daimler engines, each driving a single track, which permitted of a one-man control, as in our Mark V.’s. The interior was divided into front and rear compartments joined by narrow gangways on either side of the central engine casing. In front were one 5.7 cm. Q.F. gun (equivalent to our 6-pounder) and two heavy machine-guns, and in the rear four more machine-guns. The crew consisted of an officer and no fewer than fifteen or sixteen men, who must have crowded the narrow quarters intolerably; and as three branches of the service--artillery, infantry, and technical--were represented, each ignorant of the other’s duties, there was much friction between them. The tank was heavily armoured, especially in front, where the plating was 1³⁄₁₆ inches in thickness, and would keep out common shell from a field-gun at a moderate range; but the roof was very thin, and the whole machine was so roughly put together that wide crevices around the gun-ports made it unpleasantly vulnerable to the splash from machine-gun bullets. There was room in places for the bullets themselves to enter. Being built on the ordinary tractor principle, with a very low clearance from the ground and a long flat tread, the tank could neither cross a considerable trench nor surmount any serious obstacle. There was no unditching apparatus. The only improvement on our design was the sprung track, which reduced wear and shock, and in so ponderous a machine was a notable innovation. Observation was exceptionally bad. The officer and driver sat above the engine, their heads and shoulders in a central cab which rose two feet above the roof, and as the latter projected forward for ten feet, it hid from them all the ground immediately in front.

In every respect, in fact, excepting the sprung tracks, the _Panzerkraftwagen_ was clumsy and inefficient to a degree. Notwithstanding its one-man control, the officers of the new unit preferred to handle the British Mark IV.’s, even during trials on level ground; and for all practical purposes there was no comparison between the two in general utility and handiness. And while the machine itself was mistrusted, and with justice, another and unforeseen difficulty was soon apparent. The higher command had talked more cleverly than it knew. It had belittled all tanks so persistently, had made so strong an argument out of the perils and discomforts of all tank warfare, that the brave Michael, now that he had his own engine of destruction, showed no enthusiasm for using it. The German tank crews, in fact, were thoroughly afraid of their Frankensteins; and their rare appearances in action were marked almost uniformly by that discretion which seemed naturally to them by far the better part of valour. In some cases they ditched their machines deliberately before any further harm could overtake them. Only at Villers-Bretonneux did the German-made tanks achieve any success--the counter-attack at Niergnies six months later was carried out by captured British Mark IV.’s.

II.

German anti-tank measures in the early days followed obvious lines, such as the use of armour-piercing bullets and direct field-artillery fire. There was also employed on a few occasions a 1-pounder automatic gun of the “Pom-pom” type. One of these weapons was found in Kitchener’s Wood, in the Salient. It is possible that the wider Hindenburg trenches were constructed with a view to discomfiting tanks. The battle of Cambrai, however, besides demonstrating what tanks could accomplish in a general way, given good conditions, demolished also the Hindenburg fetish, and the shock of this discovery produced a crop of reports and suggestions on the subject. Units were asked for statements as to their experiences in the battle. One division (believed to be the 119th, holding the Fontaine-Notre-Dame sector from the 23rd November onwards) reported as follows:--

“The division came into the Cambrai battle on the 22nd
November, and since that date has fought on several occasions,
and always successfully, against British tanks. Its experiences
are borne out by the statements of several British tank crews,
including the captain of a company of tanks.”

These prisoners, by the way, appear to have been unnecessarily communicative. The report, after describing the method of attack and the size and armament of tanks, continues:--

“German defence and defensive measures were weak. Losses on
both sides scarcely worth mentioning.... Pace (of tanks)
three or four miles per hour. They may surmount practically
all obstacles. One tank in Fontaine climbed up a steep
orchard, broke the trees, crossed two well-built 5-foot high
garden-walls, and, in turning, knocked down the corner of a
house.... Serious obstacles are constituted by trenches at
least 13-16 feet wide and 10 feet deep. Also by marshy ground.
Ploughed land is easily negotiated; also barricades. _The
building of obstacles does not pay. It is better to attack
tanks energetically_.... Tanks must be heavily fired at (by
artillery) during their advance, even if there is no likelihood
of hitting them. The main thing is to prevent the infantry from
following the tanks. The infantry must be made to fear the area
where the tanks are. In point of fact, the British infantry was
soon one to two miles behind the tanks, and at Fontaine did not
follow them at all.”

This is an interesting confirmation of a point already referred to. The report goes on to remark that--

“... as actual anti-tank defence, only special guns situated
in the forward zone, which put the tanks out of action by fire
over open sights, are suitable. Each direct hit kills part of
the crew, and often sets the tank on fire. Detachments situated
further to the rear have no knowledge of the situation, and
often arrive too late.

“Such guns must, on principle, be situated well forward; then
the enemy will not succeed in a surprise attack.

“The O. i/c Defence Troops must be made responsible for the
siting of the anti-tank guns.

“Guns mounted on lorries do excellent work if the roads are
good.

“_Infantry._ The front line must only make a gap to let through
tanks not put out of action, and take cover; they must not
retire. Tanks must be dealt with _behind_ the front. The chief
object is the _repulse of the enemy infantry_. The tank captain
said, ‘_Tanks can gain ground, but can never hold it alone._’
This is a great point to remember when discussing them.

“Isolated commands in rear should be detailed for anti-tank
defence.

“_Means of Defence._ The chief one is the armour-piercing
bullet. It is feared by the tank crews because it goes clean
through the armour-plating, causing a long flame, and often
setting fire to the petrol-tank.

“The tank is best attacked from the rear. House-to-house
fighting against tanks is very favourable to infantry. The men
take cover in the houses, let the tank pass, and then fire at
it from the rear at close range with rifles and M.G.’s.

“The 46th I.R. accounted for four tanks in Fontaine in this way.

“_Hand Grenades._ Are useless singly; they only have effect if
several are tied together and thrown under the tank, but this
is very difficult.

“_T.M.’s._ Light T.M.’s can be made effective with flat
trajectory fire. Used singly they have good results.

“Anti-tank defence must be discussed and practised, when the
tanks lose their terror. Men fought for four hours violently
against eight tanks which penetrated into Fontaine, and of
which only two were able to return (four were accounted for by
infantry and two by artillery); moreover, eleven derelict tanks
are lying just outside our lines.

“MULLER-LOEBNITZ, Maj.,
for C.G.S.”[22]

It will be seen that the Germans continued to magnify the powers of the armour-piercing bullets--a curious error, as the captured tanks must have shown its comparative inefficacy against the plating on the Mark IV.’s. Probably the captured personnel exaggerated the effect of splinters and the ordinary bullet-splash round the gun-ports. It is interesting also to note the remarks about the petrol-tank. This was always considered by the enemy to be the tank’s weak spot, although in fact no more vulnerable in itself than any other.

Soon after Cambrai the Germans were devoting their whole energies to preparations for their own great offensive, which was launched in the following spring, and defensive measures of all kinds were secondary considerations for the time being. But when the three successive blows on the Somme, the Lys, and the Aisne had come at length to an end, and were countered, with startling rapidity and effect, by the French and British attacks on 18th July and 8th August 1918, the enemy was aroused very roughly to a realisation of his peril and of the power of the weapon he had affected to despise. The 8th August, in particular, was entirely a tank victory--a greater and more brilliant Cambrai; and the astonishing collapse of the defence threw the Great General Staff into a panic from which it never was allowed to recover. From this date to the end a persistent refrain, rising at length to a frantic crescendo of warning and exhortation, runs through all the orders issued to the German armies, and the burden of it is tanks, tanks, and again tanks.

A few extracts, taken at random, from captured German orders, prisoners’ statements, and similar channels of information, will show very clearly the disillusionment and alarm which spread through the armies after the rout of Von Hutier and Von der Marwitz in front of Amiens. During the Arras operations at the end of August, for example, documents were secured which showed that divisional anti-tank officers had been created. A similar regimental appointment was recommended. The divisional anti-tank officer was not to be employed for any other purpose, and was to be given the utmost assistance by all ranks and units. Further, a G.H.Q. Routine Order laid down that officers and other ranks who had done good work in repelling tanks were to be mentioned in Army Orders, and that specially meritorious acts were to be rewarded by decorations. About the same time an order was issued from the headquarters of the Crown Prince’s group of armies which ran as follows:--

“According to reports received from G.H.Q. during the recent
fighting on the Second and Eighteenth Army fronts, large
numbers of tanks broke through on narrow fronts, and, pushing
straight forward, immediately attacked the battery positions
and headquarters of divisions. In many places no defence could
be made in time owing to the fact that batteries which had
their guns dug in were insufficiently mobile and were only
ready to open fire too late to defend themselves against the
tanks, which attacked them from all sides. Anti-tank defence
must be developed on the lines of those experiences.”[23]

Among prisoners’ statements, again, we find that various N.C.O.’s all agreed that “tanks always create a moral effect on infantry, however often they have seen tanks, or have been told by officers that they will be quite safe if they take cover and let the tanks pass on. _It is recognised that infantry can do nothing against tanks._”[24] On 25th August the 38th German Division was adjured to pull itself together and show a better front to tank attacks. “The troops themselves will await a tank attack with calmness. The first essential for the infantry is that they should keep their heads.” A month later we find General Von Wrisberg endeavouring to encourage the civilians at home. Speaking for the Minister of War in the Reichstag, he remarked, “the American armies also should not terrify us. We shall also settle with them. More momentous for us is the question of tanks. We are adequately armed against them. Anti-tank defence is nowadays more a question of nerves than of material.” Soon after General Von Wrisberg had spoken, the second battle of Cambrai began. The tanks once more proved too much for the nerves of the German infantry, and prisoners provided the usual illuminating confirmation of this. It appeared that in spite of all exhortations “the German infantry still considers that as soon as the tanks have broken through their line, further resistance is useless.... The officers gave as their opinion that tanks were a ‘brilliant invention,’ and wished that the Germans had more of them. Lack of material, however, stood in the way.... A number of intelligent N.C.O.’s (Sergeant-Majors and Sergeants) ... stated that tanks invariably had a considerable moral effect on infantry, however often they might be told that they had only to let them through and the artillery would deal with them.”[25] In the same month a German Corps Order lays down that “_Messages concerning tanks have preference over all other telephone calls, including messages regarding aeroplanes._”[26]

For some time past Ludendorff had been growing more and more concerned over this new warfare. In a report on the battle of 8th August, he gave as the first reason for the defeat, “the fact that the troops were surprised by the massed attack of tanks, and lost their heads when the tanks suddenly appeared behind them under cover of natural and artificial fog.” This, of course, was no more than the truth; but it was a novel confession for the Great General Staff to make, and indicated the grave apprehensions which the disaster had aroused, for there could be no guarantee against the troops losing their heads a second time, or a third. “Nerves” play an increasing part in official German cajolings and extenuations from now to the end, but this obnoxious and unsoldier-like word was never used before the tanks caused it to become a normal feature in every apologia. Ludendorff, once awake to the new danger, took vigorous although quite useless steps to combat it by practical measures in the field. These we will consider next, but before concluding this sketchy selection of documentary evidence, one final and authoritative witness remains to be heard--the Great General Staff itself. A short time ago, Colonel Bauer, who had been head of the Artillery Department at headquarters, and who is credited by German public opinion with having been the special confidant and political inspirer of Ludendorff, issued a pamphlet professing to give the General Staff’s version of the events which led up to the Armistice. Throughout September and October, it appears, Ludendorff made repeated demands for peace while the armies were still intact, pointing out that it was necessary to reckon on an increasing deterioration of the military situation. At the end of September Von Hindenburg agreed to lay before the new Government just formed under Prince Max of Baden a true statement of affairs. On 2nd October the representatives from General Headquarters met the party leaders of the Reichstag, and presented to them the report. It began with this striking passage:--

“The chief army command has been compelled to take a terribly
grave decision, and declare that, according to human
probabilities, there is no longer any prospect of forcing
peace on the enemy. Above all, two facts have been decisive
for this issue. First, the tanks. The enemy has employed them
in unexpectedly large numbers. Where, after a very liberal
clouding of our positions with artificial mist, they effected
a surprise, our men’s nerves were often unequal to them.
Here they broke through our first line, opened a way for
their infantry, appeared in the rear, created local panics,
and threw the control of the fighting into confusion. When
they had once been identified our tank defence weapons and
our artillery quickly settled with them. Then, however, the
misfortune had already happened, and solely the successes of
the tanks explain the large numbers of prisoners which so
painfully reduced our strengths, and brought about a more rapid
consumption of reserves than we had hitherto been accustomed to.

“We were not in a position to oppose to the enemy equal masses
of German tanks. Their construction would have exceeded
the resources of our industry, which was strained to the
uttermost, or other more important things would have had to be
neglected.”--‘Daily Telegraph,’ 21st July 1919.[27]

This confession, coming from such a quarter, needs little comment. It seems to justify all the arguments by which I have tried to show how tanks, when at length properly employed, determined not only the duration, but also to a large extent the actual result, of the war. Yet, as I write, there appears to be every probability that no tank corps will be included in the post-bellum army! The cavalry, useless and inefficient, is of course to remain at full strength; infantry and artillery are to be cut down to a minimum to provide money for ameliorating the lives of coal miners; and the Tank Corps, as an unnecessary extravagance, is in danger of total abolition. Truly we are a remarkable people.

III.

After the 8th August the Germans began feverishly to devise anti-tank measures of every kind. It is doubtful if the immense fronts which modern armies occupy can ever be protected satisfactorily by artificial means against whole-hearted tank attacks; and in any case the Germans were allowed no time to perfect such stationary defences. Field artillery remained to the end the best anti-tank weapon. Special guns were now brought forward near the front line, to remain silent until the moment of attack, when they were to concentrate on tanks. Our barrage, however, usually accounted for most of these advanced pieces before they could do much harm, while the remainder were overrun by the tanks in the first rush, which always took place at dawn. More dangerous were reserve guns which moved up to selected positions further back as soon as the attack started. “Finally, all German batteries, including howitzers, had general instructions to plan their positions in such a way that advancing tanks would be subject to a direct fire at about 500 or 600 yards’ range. In the event of a tank attack the engagement of our machines was now to be the first call upon the artillery, to the exclusion of counter-battery or any other work.”[28]

The only novel weapon of offence introduced was the anti-tank rifle. This was a huge affair, 5¹⁄₂ feet long, and provided with biped legs and an ordinary wooden stock. It fired armour-piercing bullets of .530 calibre and had no magazine. “It was obviously too conspicuous and too slow a weapon to be really effective against tanks, though the steel core could penetrate the armour of British tanks at several hundred yards’ range. The chief disadvantage of the anti-tank rifle, however, was that the German soldier would not use it. He was untrained in its use, afraid of its kick, and still more afraid of the tanks themselves. It is doubtful if more than one per cent of the A.T. rifles captured in our tank attacks had ever been fired.”[29]

A great variety of fixed obstructions were set up in village streets, on roads, and at other suitable points. None of these gave us any serious trouble. Usually they could be avoided. The road obstacles, in fact, comprising craters, barricades of carts filled with bricks, and concrete blocks, allowing only a narrow passage which could be closed with railway iron, seem primarily to have been intended to hold up whippets and armoured cars. Land mines, on the other hand, which were used rather extensively, while generally ineffective, served to impose caution on any tank commander who knew of, or suspected, their existence. They generally took the form of high-explosive shells with light fuses, buried in rows a few inches below the surface of a road or across some other likely defile, and fitted with a simple wooden device which the weight of a tank pressed down upon the nose-cap, so detonating the fuse. One or two large mine-fields were laid, in which a more elaborate apparatus was used. Oddly enough, it was one of our own mine-fields, prepared before the March retreat and afterwards forgotten, which caused the only serious disaster tanks ever suffered from this form of defence.

Two more unusual types of obstacle came within my own experience. Along the valley which runs between the first and second Hindenburg Lines from Pronville to Inchy-en-Artois, on the Canal du Nord, was the dried-up bed of a stream called the Hirondelle. Its banks were lined with stout willows, and where the gaps between these were wide enough for a tank to pass through, the Germans had planted lengths of railway line, upright but inclining forward, the ends embedded in concrete blocks sunk in the ground. As this part of the line was taken in reverse by the capture of Quéant, tanks had no opportunity of testing this obstacle. I think the rails would have been pushed over with ease, but the process might have held up the tanks for a few dangerous minutes in full view of the second Hindenburg Line. In the main street of Inchy itself were two massive blocks of concrete 6 feet high, with the usual narrow passage between, and each furnished with half a dozen of these inclined iron rails, which rose to the house-tops. This barricade would have stopped any tank. More interesting than this defence scheme, however, was the elaborate but unfinished stockade at Achiet-le-Grand. The Arras-Bapaume railway curves across most of this region on a high embankment. This in itself was not generally unsurmountable, but tanks in the act of climbing over it would stand out as magnificent targets for the German batteries, which then were posted on the other side. At one point, just north of Achiet-le-Grand station, a rise of ground caused the embankment to fall away to nothing for two or three hundred yards, and attacking tanks, it was thought, naturally would make for this crossing. In front of it, therefore, parallel to the line, the Germans began a really formidable anti-tank stockade. It was made of lengths of railway line and stout telegraph poles, three rails or two poles being lashed together, fixed in cement bases, and buried in the ground, above which they rose to a height of 4 feet. Inclining forward, these stakes were planted 7 feet apart in several rows, each row covering the spaces of the one in front. It was found that tanks could force a passage through this _abattis_ only by approaching it obliquely and crushing down one row of stakes at a time, a slow process which would have exposed them helplessly to the batteries close beyond. In the attack on this position on 21st August 1918, when a great number of tanks were knocked out along the railway, the stockade was not attempted. There was a similar form of obstacle on the Bapaume-Cambrai road, and there may have been others.

Taken as a whole, these various artificial impediments inevitably proved a failure. There was no time for the Germans to cover every vulnerable point in such a fashion, and isolated obstacles were useless against a tank attack on a wide front. In any case, the principle of passive defence was bound to be fatal in the end; and the Germans, realising this, were at work when the war finished upon an instrument which they hoped would replace all these makeshifts. This instrument was the “Tuf” or _Tank und Flieger_ machine-gun, a huge Maxim firing armour-piercing bullets of 13 mm. diameter. This formidable weapon must have been deadly against our Mark IV.’s and V.’s, for its stream of heavy bullets would have gone clean through the armour. Profound importance was attached to its speedy production, in which sixty factories were engaged, and it was given priority over submarines and aeroplanes (another testimony to the German fear of tanks). Major Williams-Ellis, in ‘The Tank Corps,’ gives the following interesting details of the fate of this invention:--

“No less than 6000 of these guns were to be in the field by
April 1919, and delivery was to begin early in the previous
December--just a month too late. However, when the armistice
was signed the firms were already in possession of the greater
part of the stores and raw material for the manufacture of
the guns, a quantity of which were by then well on the way to
completion. Immediately after the signing of the armistice
all the factories, without exception, were instructed by
telephone to continue manufacturing the ‘Tuf,’ and about 20th
November they received confirmation in writing of this order,
and were instructed to keep on their workmen at all costs.
Our occupation of the left bank of the Rhine proved a serious
drawback to a continuation of the manufacture, as it completely
interrupted communication between several of the factories.
The Piaff Works of Kaiserslautern (Palatinate), and the great
Becker Steel Works of Crefeld, which played an important part
in the manufacture of the guns, had to close down, both being
on the left bank of the Rhine.

“The Minister of War, throughout the period of its manufacture,
asked for daily and minute reports as to the progress of the
‘Tuf.’ But once more, as ever in all that concerned tanks, the
Germans were several months too late. We were never destined to
face this particular weapon with the Mark V. The modern tank
fears it not at all.”

IV.

It may seem ill-mannered to relegate an account of the French Tank Corps to the tail-end of a discursive chapter devoted mainly to the Germans and their doings. But the subject of the _Artillerie d’Assaut_, if treated adequately, would require a book to itself, and is, in fact, outside the scope of this narrative. Considerations of space, already becoming urgent, would alone forbid any detailed history. I wish merely to outline very briefly here the inception and growth of the new arm in the French service.

The French tank was evolved independently of our own. Its author may be said to have been Colonel Estienne, of the Artillery. This officer, observing in 1915 the Holt tractors used by the British Army, was inspired by the same idea which Colonel Swinton and his colleagues already were perfecting in England. At the end of the year Colonel Estienne put his views before General Joffre. After an interview with the latter, he approached the Schneider Engineering Company on the subject, and drew up with them the design of the machine he had in mind. In February 1916, Schneiders received a definite order to construct 400 machines, and a little later a second firm was told to build another 400 of a heavier type. These last were the St Chamond tanks, driven by petrol-electric motors. An instructional ground was established at Marly-le-Roi, and Colonel Estienne was recalled from Verdun to command the new unit.

The design of these French tanks differed in an important feature from our own. It is better, perhaps, to say that they remained in a more primitive stage of evolution. The idea of the wheel, and the subsequent modification which produced the unique shape and capabilities of the British tank, does not seem to have occurred to the constructors of the Schneiders and St Chamonds. Both these types were modelled on the ordinary tractor, and in consequence worked under severe limitations. Obstacles that were negligible to a British tank they found impassable. On the other hand, they carried a far heavier gun than our machines, the 75 mm. field-piece of famous memory. In appearance they were small editions of the German copy, the _Panzerkraftwagens_. Their light weapon was the Hotchkiss automatic rifle, carried on our Whippets and Mark V.’s.

Ten companies, of 16 tanks each, were formed in April 1917, one company only consisting of St Chamonds. In various actions during the year, the Schneiders did excellent work, but the St Chamonds proved to be a failure. In the meantime, still working on very similar lines to our own, Colonel Estienne was evolving an idea for a light tank. The result was the remarkable little Rénault machine, of which no fewer than 3500 were ordered in June 1917. If we had designed the better heavy tank, the French made a leap ahead with the Rénault; and it is highly interesting to see how national habits of thought appear manifestly in this connection. Our bias, in any sort of constructional work, leans towards the heavy, durable, and expensive article. We have a horror of anything cheap and fragile. This inclination, together with the ingenious design of the large tank, worked for good in the case of the latter; but when we came to build what we called light machines, our limitations were very apparent. The Whippet was nearly as conspicuous and as costly as the Mark IV. or V., was far more vulnerable and intricate, was incapable of surmounting any serious obstacle, and possessed only one merit--superior speed. It was absurd to describe it as a light tank.[30] Colonel Estienne and his colleagues, on the other hand, determined to produce a little, simple, inconspicuous machine which could be manufactured rapidly at a small cost, and which was to be capable of performing, under modern conditions, the task of the French _Fantassin_, or skirmisher. The Rénaults, in fact, were to be used in clouds in front of the infantry, like armoured light troops. If 20, or 50, or 100 were destroyed, they could easily be replaced. They were not expected to cross wide trenches or climb vertical obstacles; this was the preliminary task of the heavy tank. While the Whippet was a weak compromise between the two types, the Rénault was definitely limited in its functions. It was experimental in the sense that all tanks during the war were experimental. There was no time in which to play about with various designs, and in consequence the accepted model had many faults, but it was a strikingly successful experiment on novel lines. In appearance, with its hunched-up shoulders topped by a bell-shaped cupola, and its curving iron tail introduced to prevent it from turning on its back, it looked like some fabulous cross between a grasshopper and a scorpion. Compared with all previous tanks it was ridiculously small--a mere toy, even, beside a Whippet. It carried two men, a driver who sat on the floor, and a gunner who swung half-upright behind him in a sort of leather sling and fired a Hotchkiss from the cupola, which revolved. It had a Rénault engine of only 17 h.p., narrow sprung tracks, passing over a big idle wheel in front and a small driving sprocket behind, and could travel on good ground at a speed of six to seven miles an hour. It was extraordinarily handy, and by means of two levers which threw the tracks out of gear it could be spun about like a top. Owing, however, to its light weight and springy motion, it must have been extremely awkward to aim from while on the move.

Astonishing rapidity of production was one of the chief merits of the Rénault. After the victorious counterstroke against the Château-Thierry Salient, in which these little machines played a decisive part, whole battalions, each of 75 tanks, became available at the rate of one a week! This permitted of tired units being replaced speedily by fresh ones. The French Tank Corps was established on the normal continental infantry basis, in regiments of three battalions; and it was proposed to form, in addition to the regiments of Schneider and St Chamond heavies, thirty battalions (ten regiments) of Rénaults. By August 1918 the personnel of the Corps numbered already 14,600 of all ranks. During 1918, 3988 individual tank engagements were fought, to which number the diminutive Rénaults contributed 3140.

It is impossible here to give details of any of these tank actions. What is called the Battle of Soissons--the brilliant series of operations from 18th July onward which inaugurated the combined allied offensive--was the Cambrai of the French Tank Corps. After that date tanks were employed wherever possible, not only on the main front, but at St Mihiel and even in Flanders, where the 6th French Army was sent to strengthen General Plumer and the Belgians; and a company of Rénaults went as far afield as Salonika. “Finally,” to quote ‘Weekly Tank Notes,’ “it may be stated that as there can be no doubt that the 18th July was the second greatest turning-point in the war, the first being the Battle of the Marne in 1914, so can there be no doubt that the Battle of Soissons would never have been won had not the French possessed a powerful force of tanks whereby to initiate success. The German General Staff, which should be the best judge of this question, candidly admit that the French victory was due to the use of ‘masses of tanks’; neither was the General Commanding-in-Chief of the French Armies reticent, for on the 30th July he issued the following special order of the day to the French Tank Corps--

‘_Vouz avez bien merité de la Patrie_,’

whilst General Estienne, to whom so much was due, received the Cravat of the Legion d’Honneur and was promoted to the rank of General of Division for the great services he had rendered to his country.”

In England, it seems, we do not know how to do these things--or at least to whom to do them.