AS THE CHRONICLES OF THE TANK have to deal with activities in several places at the same time it is not possible to set them out in a straight chronological form. For the moment we must leave the Tank Corps, justly proud of its new name, to its own devices. For the most part, during the weeks immediately following Messines, these consisted of anxious consultations between Elles, Fuller, Baker-Carr, Courage, Martel and their battalion commanders led by Charrington and Hardress-Lloyd upon the single subject of unditching. We shall see presently what they contrived.
Back in London very important things happened during the month of July, 1917. First amongst these was the return of a pioneer. Colonel Churchill, reverted at his own request to plain Mr, came back into power as Minister of Munitions, succeeding the ineffectual Dr Addison. There was a howl of protest from the ultra-Conservatives; Mr Lloyd George showed commendable courage in bringing back a man with so many enemies but he had to stop short at returning him to the Cabinet. This was to have serious consequences. As a mere Departmental Minister, and one not universally trusted, he had nothing like the free hand he needed in order to do the things he believed to be right. His function was that of a mere purveyor and when Admiralty or War Office made demands upon him it was his duty to comply with them, however strongly he might disapprove.
After reducing some fifty committees to a more manageable ten, Mr Churchill addressed himself to the neglected subject of mechanical warfare. His worst enemy was the Admiralty. Nobody grudged their Lordships a privileged position, for if the Navy could not beat the submarine nothing else would matter. Their Lordships, however, presumed heavily upon it. One instance, typical of many, must serve for all. When the Navy demanded potato-peeling machines for the Grand Fleet, skilled men engaged in making range-finders for anti-aircraft guns were taken off their work. The Navy had vast supplies of armour plate but would part with none of it. Mr Churchill set himself to glut them to such an extent that they could no longer protest.
Tanks were well to the front of his mind. While he had been away ‘they had been consistently misused by the generals and their first prestige was markedly diminished’. This was beyond argument. The Press had long ceased to write about tanks walking down streets with an army cheering behind. Nor was it only the Press that had become disenchanted. ‘In the fight to secure a handful of steel plates for the tank programme we encountered at first the odious statement: “But the Army doesn’t want any more: GHQ does not rank them very high in their priorities: they have not done well at Passchendaele; they cannot cope with the mud, etc.”.’ This was the voice of ‘Wullie’ Robertson and his cronies in London. Privately the Minister took a different view. None the less, the War Office was the Minister’s customer and the customer is always right.
One of the first letters seen by the new Minister had been sitting in the ‘In’ tray for some time; it was dated 18 June and came from Major Wilson: ‘Officially I have nothing but a title, Director of Engineering. I have no authority, no responsibilities and am in a purely consultative capacity to give my opinion only when asked. Practically, by courtesy of the Metropolitan Company and with assistance of their drawing office staff, I have got out all the designs of the Mk V and Mk VI … also, in conjunction with Major Greg, all the designs for gun carrying machines.… The position is so unsatisfactory and the results obtained within the last nine months so poor that I must ask you seriously to consider the change in the organization in the technical side of the MWSD. I append a letter showing the organization I suggest.… I have had twenty years’ experience in responsible positions but have never worked under such conditions as I have for the past 18 months. I would not have tolerated such conditions for one moment had I not believed my services were of special use to the country in time of war. I have twice been dismissed by Colonel Stern but have refused to go but I now think the interests of the country will best be served by asking you to accept my resignation unless a working organization can be made.’ Admiral Moore was deputed to smooth Wilson down and he was, in November, appointed ‘Chief of Design’. It was a distinction but without a difference. All the same it shook Mr Churchill’s confidence in Bertie Stern.
He and d’Eyncourt, for their part, were keeping up the steady bombardment of the Ministry. On 24 July another letter was placed in front of Mr Churchill, a copy having gone to the Prime Minister. It treated of the folly in using landships in places where they could not possibly do what they had been designed to do. Stern reminded his readers that ‘the military authorities had agreed to make it a rule that they would not use Tanks where the weather and ground conditions were very bad. In spite of this, in spite of the fact that the designers and builders had told them that over very heavily crumped, soft, muddy country Tanks were practically useless, they had been using them in the mud and now it seemed likely that the Army would cancel all orders for Mechanical Warfare.’ After a recapitulation of all that had happened so far, Stern set out what he thought ought to be done: ‘Accumulate Tanks and continue to do so until you have thousands, well trained and well organized tactically into an efficient self-contained mechanical army.… Several types of Tank will have to be incorporated as the different new designs are introduced. Finally this great force would consist of brigades of Tanks of different designs, each organized for its own particular role: all organized under one head, who would be responsible for a Mechanical Army (trained with its complement of artillery and infantry etc until ready to complete its task) and to win a decisive battle.’ With it went a copy of a letter from ‘a very important Staff Officer’. The style suggests Fuller. It was in some ways prophetic: ‘There are two theatres to consider: Flanders and Cambresis. The first has mud and the second wide and deep trenches. As I cannot imagine anyone choosing Flanders again, our difficulties may be spanning power. This requires very careful consideration. The mud here is beyond description. I have never seen anything like it either on the Somme or the Ancre.’
As no reply was received by 27 July d’Eyncourt and Stern went on strike. ‘The three military members, who a month before had never seen a Tank, laid down all rulings even with regard to design and construction. They were in the majority and we could do nothing.’ Though Stern does no more than imply it, the impression sticks that he was given the de haut en bas treatment. He was, after all, a Director-General and such appointments carried the rank of Major-General. His credentials were not less than those of Major-General Eric Geddes and in a paper written soon afterwards he complained that he had requested time after time that proper ranks should be given to Holden (his Deputy), Wilson and Syme. Two were only Captains and Wilson, a Major, had entered the old ‘Britannia’ only three years after Beatty. ‘The War Office refuses and General Capper refuses them all promotion.’
Stern, very much the senior banker and not at all the junior officer, wrote direct to the Prime Minister. The letter began dramatically with ‘A crisis has arisen in the relations between the War Office and the Ministry of Munitions re the progress and development of Mechanical Warfare.’ The first complaint was that, since no Department of Tanks existed at the War Office, which refused to have such a thing, he was obliged to trail from one department to another, with predictable results. Then came more charges of ignorant interference with tank design and production: ‘All the experimental work and testing etc is done by Naval men lent by the Admiralty. The War Office refuse all assistance’. Furthermore the War Office, while demanding complete co-operation with Bermicourt, ‘make it practically impossible for me to send technical men over by refusing commissions and suitable rank to those who hold commissions’.
Sir Douglas, possibly taking his tone from General Kiggell, Chief of the General Staff, was no longer the enthusiast of the ‘Go back and make as many tanks as you can’ days. On 27 August, 1917, he put his revised feelings on paper: ‘The Tank, at any rate in its present state of development, can only be regarded as a minor factor. It is still in its infancy as regards design. It is of uncertain reliability.… As time goes on and the designs improve, the tank will very probably become a more important factor in the choice of the battlefield, but under present conditions it must be, as I have said, a minor factor.’
On 16 September Stern wrote to Mr Churchill, with a brusquerie more appropriate to a customer exceeding his overdraft. Having asserted that ‘lack of action and lack of decision will most assuredly ruin the chances of mechanical warfare for 1918’, he reproved the Minister for not having kept his promise, made after the July letter, to investigate the position. It ended with ‘Immediate action must be taken’. The tone was not that to which Mr Churchill was accustomed; not as recipient.
‘Wully’ Robertson was given a demonstration of the Mk V. After that another letter, dated 21 September, went to Mr Churchill. ‘After a lengthy discussion I gather that he (Robertson) agrees that the science of Mechanical Warfare has reached a point when mechanical cavalry in large quantities, in conjunction with other arms, have a better chance than any known weapon of winning a decisive battle. We believe that we have the design of such a machine.’ ‘Willie’s’ standard answer to such as this was ‘I’ve ’eard different’. And so he had, even though Stern said in the letter ‘I gather he agrees’.
Stern’s optimism was misplaced. Whether he knew it or not his following had deserted him. Wilson, in his notes to Stern’s book, wrote that ‘This belief existed only in the minds of a few and this was the root cause of many of Col Stern’s troubles’. When ‘Bertie’ looked for somebody to hold his coat no one was there.
Even had he known of this Stern’s attitude would not have changed. His civilian experience had taken in a country with far greater potential for manufacture than that of Britain. ‘Now I suggest a still greater effort,’ he wrote; ‘let a great General organize our effort in conjunction with the Americans and the French.’ It is possible that Mr Churchill was beginning to feel a little irked by Stern and to think that perhaps there was something to be said for the Generals. On 29 September there was a great colloquy at the War Office, with all the Imperial General Staff and all the Tank Commanders present. The bomb was planted by Butler. Sir Douglas, he said, could only find 18,500 all ranks for the Tank Corps. As few Whippets as possible should be made but he wanted the Mk IVs replaced by Mk Vs without loss of time. He would probably want some supply tanks also but Butler did not know how many. They would meet again on 10 October.
Stern was horrified. In his last letter to the Minister he had reckoned that by I July, 1918, England could produce some 2,000 tanks, America about 4,000 and France 500. Now it looked as if the entire order of battle of the Corps would be about 1,000, including those already in service. He sought out Sir Arthur Duckham, the oil man, who was one of Mr Churchill’s Commissioners. The paper that went to Mr Churchill over Duckham’s signature was short and to the point. The men who knew most about tanks were at Bermicourt; those nearest to them in knowledge were Stern’s people, including Squadron 20 which tested all new machines at its Dollis Hill grounds. Last came the War Office, constantly meddling. A new Committee, of Capper, Elles, d’Eyncourt and Stern, would be better by far than the present arrangements. Mr Churchill agreed. Stern took General Foch to Dollis Hill and showed him the Mk V and the Gun Carrier. ‘You must make quantities and quantities,’ said the General. ‘We must must fight mechanically. Men can no longer attack with a chance of success without armoured protection.’
A day or two later Mr Churchill told Stern that the army did not want quantities and quantities. It only wanted a total of 1350. Stern exploded. ‘This I determined to fight with every means in my power and I told Mr Churchill so.’ Men have been given VCs for less. From the Hotel Metropole Lieut-Colonel Stern walked round to the War Office and bearded General Sir William Robertson. ‘I told him that the proposed preparations for 1918 were wholly and entirely inadequate.’ ‘Willie’, keeping his temper, replied that that was pretty straight. ‘I replied that it was meant to be straight.’ This merited a bar, but ‘Sir William Robertson was extremely polite and shook hands with me when I left.’ ‘Willie’ pretty certainly knew this to be his valediction.
On II October Mr Churchill saw Stern at his own request. Stern related his own history in tank matters and asked whether he still enjoyed the Minister’s confidence. Mr Churchill answered that he himself had complete faith in his Director-General but the War Office ‘wanted a change made’. ‘The War Office,’ Stern wrote later, ‘accused me of lumbering them up with useless Tanks at the Front and of wasting millions of public money. Here I asked him to go slowly as I wished to take down his astounding statement.’ In the opinion of the War Office, he said, there had been a total failure in design, no progress had been made, all the money spent on Tanks had been wasted, and the belief in Mechanical Warfare was now at such a low ebb that they proposed to give it up entirely. Stern once more went over the history from the beginning. It may have eased his feelings – very possibly Mr Churchill shared them although he could not say so – but the deed was done. He was offered some sort of honour but declined it furiously. A few days later Sir Arthur Duckham told him that three Generals at the War Office had demanded his removal.
The whole trouble was that he had pressed for 4,000 tanks at a time when the War Office had lost its nerve. Mr Churchill did concede that privately he shared the view that quantities of tanks would be needed for 1918 but as Minister he could not argue with the Generals. This could not be gainsaid. Months later Stern put his views on paper: ‘On the demand of Generals Capper, Furse and Butler I was removed from the position of Director-General of Mechanical Warfare. Not one of these Generals had ever heard of mechanical warfare until the pioneers often endless experiments succeeded in producing these weapons. Why?… I fought for standardization of mechanical warfare against continued changes of design. Because I refused to be bribed into silence by the promise of honours and to allow inexperienced officers to ruin the one development of this war in which we have outstripped the Germans. This new development instead of its continuing its healthy growth under imaginative practical men has been placed under the heel of elderly servicemen with the usual results.’ Stern never seems to have realized that he had lost the backing of the other pioneers.
Shortly after he had seen Stern, on 21 October, Mr Churchill submitted a paper to the Cabinet; its subject was the Munitions Programme for 1918. It was a long paper; only when one reaches paragraphs 30 and 31 does-it become clear that the Minister’s views are still those of the battalion CO. This war would have to be won by machines. On 6 November he produced the Munitions Budget for the forthcoming year. Para 14 deals with tanks. They had never been used in sufficient numbers nor were they reliable enough. Because of that the army would not go beyond the figure of 18,500 men. ‘This limits the number of fighting tanks required to an establishment of 1080 with ample maintenance and a certain number of supply and gun-carrying tanks.’ There was a coda: ‘The new designs will not be available in full numbers until July, 1918. Thereafter considerable expansion would be possible.’ The useless cavalry remained at about 32,000.
The customer had changed his mind. Whatever Sir Douglas may have said to Stern in the past he wanted no more Mk IVs. When the shop could offer him Mk Vs he might be in the market again. Until that day talk of tank armies and such-like had better stop.
A new Director General, Admiral A. G. H. W. Moore, was soon appointed. No possible criticism could be made of him. He had never seen a Tank. Stern, possibly because he had been standing before the picture for a long time, could never bring himself to believe that anybody who had missed the Greenhithe Trials or the debut of ‘Mother’ could possibly have anything to contribute to the Mechanical Warfare philosophy.