Chapter XXX: The Fight of a Whippet Tank

In this history space has forbidden any extensive reference to individual tank actions, though when all is said and done it was on these actions that not only was the efficiency of the Tank Corps founded but victory itself.

Prior to the battle of Amiens it will be remembered that the 3rd and 6th Whippet Battalions were allotted to work with the Cavalry Corps, and that this did not prove a great success owing to the difficulty of combining the action of steel mechanically driven with horseflesh. The account of the action given below is that of a single machine, working well in advance of the attack against the enemy’s communications, as it is and was considered at the time in the Tank Corps that all the light tanks should have been. This account is so interesting and instructive that it is quoted in full. The pluck shown by the crew of one officer and two men, though not exceptional in the Tank Corps, is worthy of the highest praise. These three men, like the Argonauts of old, launched their landship on an expedition faced by unknown dangers; they fought their way through countless odds and faced single-handed the whole of the rear of the German Army. But for an unfortunate accident they might have returned unscathed to safety. In spite of the misfortune which eventually overtook them, at the lowest computation they must have inflicted 200 casualties on the enemy, and at the price of one man killed.

If still there are to be found doubters in the power of the tank, and in the superiority of mechanical warfare over muscular, surely this heroic incident will alone suffice to convince them:

“On August 8, 1918, I commanded Whippet tank ‘Musical Box,’
belonging to ‘B’ Company of the 6th Battalion. We left the lying-up
point at zero (4.20 a.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 (2nd Australian Division) 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 2,000 yards in this direction, I found myself to be the
leading machine, owing to the others having become ditched. 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 four-gun field battery, of which I could
see the flashes, between Abancourt and Bayonvillers. Two Mark V
tanks, 150 yards on my right front, 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.[33] 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,[34] on horseback, and Lieutenant
Waterhouse, in a tank, 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 the 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 so 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,[35]
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 mouthpiece of the box respirator, without actually wearing the
mask.

“At 14.00 hours, 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 bridge 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 yards 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 a large horse and wagon lines, which ran across
the railway and close to it. Gunner Ribbans (right-hand gun) here
had a view of the 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 yards 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 left-hand 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 flames.
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 anyone 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 dugout 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 sighed 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 H.Q. 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 Chaulnes 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 the first opportunity, report him to
the highest possible authority. The next day I was sent away and
eventually reached the camp at Freiburg, where 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.”[36]

(Signed) C. B. ARNOLD, _Lieut._,
_6th Tank Battalion_,

_January 1, 1919_.