in Britain with significant resources allocated to the program.
The first battle to employ the tank was Flers-Courcelette, despite having only forty-nine tanks.
The attack was launched across a twelve-kilometre front from Rawlinson’s Fourth Army salient on the 15th of September. Twelve divisions were employed, along with all the tanks the British army possessed.
General Haig, the British Commander-in-Chief, had wanted many more tanks in readiness for the full launch of the Somme Offensive on the 1st of July, but nevertheless determined to proceed with the Flers-Courcelette attack with this reduced number. This was seen as a somewhat controversial decision, as others in the War Office had argued that the tanks would be of little practical use in such small numbers. Winston Churchill, who had championed the development of the tank, complained, "my poor 'land battleships' have been let off prematurely on a petty scale."
These early tanks proved notoriously unreliable during testing and application. Weighing approximately twenty-eight tons, they could move forward only at a snail's pace; two miles per hour. They were impervious to small arms fire, and to a lesser extent machine gun fire. Inside the tank, the operators were required to wear chain–mail visors to protect them from the paint and metal chips flying around inside the tanks as the machine guns peppered them. The tank’s greatest enemy was shellfire; a direct hit would completely destroy a tank, and many were lost.
Radio communication was not available until late in the war; carrier pigeons were used instead. This resulted on more than one occasion British tanks killing British soldiers.
The attack, as was the norm, was preceded by an artillery bombardment designed to leave unshelled lanes open for the advance of the new mobile weapon. That was the theory.
Accordingly, on the 11th of September, the forty-nine tanks began to move slowly into position in the line. As a measure of their fundamental unreliability, seventeen tanks were unable to make it as far as the front line; they just wouldn’t start. Of the twenty-two that did, a further seven failed to start when the attack began. Thus, fifteen of the forty-nine tanks rolled slowly over No Man's Land with the beginning of the attack on the 15th of September.
Despite all their problems, the launch of the tanks produced devastating effects upon German morale - at least initially. On a wider front, their effectiveness was limited, given their scarcity together with their inherent unreliability. The German High Command’s initial reaction was that the tank could be defeated instead of imitated.
However, the British, together with the Canadian Corps, made initial gains of some two kilometres within the first three days, something of an achievement at the time particularly when comparing it to the earlier battles of the Somme. Led by tanks, the villages of Martinpuich, Flers, and Courcelette fell to the Allies, as did the much sought-after High Wood.
Nevertheless, a combination of poor weather and extensive German reinforcements halted the Allied advance on the 17th of September; the Allies had again suffered heavy casualties, including Raymond Asquith, the son of the British Prime Minister Herbert Asquith. The attack was called off on the 22nd of September.
The use of tanks had by no means led to any anticipated breakthrough, but they nonetheless impressed Haig, who requested that one thousand more be constructed.
Like their Australian brothers, the Canadians were regarded as being ferocious yet tactical fighters.
They were similar to the diggers in that they came from a large and in some areas hostile environment. They were resilient and inventive and most importantly, well led.
The three Canadian Canucks, Joe, Frank, and Philippe, were waiting for the signal to attack their objective of Gueudecourt. The rain was teeming down, and the trench was quickly filling up with muddy water. Joe offered his mates a cigarette but they proved impossible to light. The noise of the British guns made it difficult to communicate. They waited in silence with their own thoughts. Frank attempted to write a note to his sweetheart.
My Darling Sophie,
I am now waiting to go over the top and attack a place called Gueudecourt. It’s near another village called Fler. It's a lovely name, and it probably was a pretty village once, just like Gueudecourt, but after we have blasted it with our big guns, and the Germans have hit back at us with their guns, it’s become a muddy quagmire with blackened broken trees and dead soldiers and dead horses littering no man’s land. Sophie, you couldn’t imagine the smoke filled sky that blots out the sun on the rare occasion it shows its face. Mostly it’s just pouring rain and cold.
I’m sorry I sound so down, but to be honest it is depressing.
I’ve heard the Government will give us farms if we want them. I’m seriously giving it some thought. May I ask for you to consider it? We could marry when I return and live the good life together. It seems like a million miles away, but this horrible war has got to end soon, surely.
All my love
Frank
The barrage ceased, and the boys knew it was time to climb over the parapet and head for the German occupied village in support of the British and on their flank.
Philippe whispered to his two comrades, ‘Remember boys, we’re Canucks; we’ve been through hell before and come out the other side and we’ll do it again this time.’
‘I hope you’re right pal,’ said Frank.
‘You know I’m fucking right.’
The whistle sounded, Major Clooney led them out, his service revolver in hand clambering over the pockmarked muddy terrain.
Joe and his mates were caked in thick mud within one minute of leaving the trench. The Krauts were throwing everything at them, and Canucks were falling like flies.
A shell crater offered them some respite, but not for long, as they knew they had to keep advancing. The Canadians could see Gueudecourt’s church spire in the distance.
Philippe figured they had about one thousand yards before they’d reach the village, but the artillery and machine gunfire were just too intense for them to make headway from their current position.
The two tanks that had been allocated were bogged down in the thick mud and became useless. Major Clooney ordered his remaining troops to retreat to their line where they could regroup.
Back in the wet muddy trench, the Canadians took the opportunity to boil the billy and make some tea. Stale bickies and jam accompanied the brew.
‘Well, Frank, I told you we’d make it; Canucks survived the battle yet again.’
‘For now, Joe, just for now… but no doubt we’ll be out there again very soon.’
‘We’ll be right, pal. Just think of that farm back home. The Government is hanging onto your farm in British Columbia; it’s waiting for you.’
‘Yeah, I’m not so sure about that. It’s what keeps me going, though, the thought of farming my own land and holding my Sophie in my arms again. If I didn’t have those two things to look forward to I’d be dead like the other poor bastards
