Ottumwa semi-weekly courier. [volume] (Ottumwa, Iowa) 1916-1918, 1917-05-11
HOW IT FEELS
TO RIDE TANK
CANADIAN WRITES CRAP n C.
STORY OF BATTLE IN
MOVING FORTRESS.

OF British tank is contained III
letter, Just released by the censor. from
Sergeant F. E. Divall, Canadian wht
has been attached to one Of the tank
companies since the big cars were
first sent to the French front. He says
1.-THE order to advance is given
steadily the long powerful shapes
move forward in the gray mists Of
dawn. AS the weird looking forms
travel over the front trench the troops
therein rub their eyes in wonder al
the strange cube impressionist coat OF
many colors which the tanks are
wearing. Inside the tanks are the
keen eyed fighting men, strangely
CARRIED, as becomes their strange craft
while around them is complicated
mass of machinery.
Rolls Like Little Boat.
"Now we are passing over shell
holes, tree stumps. and many other
TRIES, which fill the ground of No
Mans Land The deck of the tank
rolls and pitches like torpedo boat
in a storm. The crew hold on to any
thing within reach to steady ourselves
while we rush down large shell hole
But we come safely through without
Eeasickness.
Suddenly the gunnery officer gives
the order: TO action His voice is
only just heard above the noise Of the
whirling machinery. A few sighting
shots, and we have found the range.
We succeed in putting out two ma
chine gun emplacements, the guns of
which have been worrying our in.
fantry for some time And now the &C
ton begins in earnest. Hun bullets
are rebounding from our tough sides
like hail from glass roof, while in
side the tanks the whole crew are
at various guns. which break forth in
a. devastating fire, under which moth
ing can live.
Fumes Fill Car.
"And now we are on the parapet of
the first Hun trench, just on the out
skirts of the wood which is our OBJ
jective and as We 60 humping on to
the other side we land with a terrific
bump. A can of petrol has slipped
from its pigeonhole, and comes clatter-
ing down on to the armored deck. with
its stopper shaken out, and the danger
Gus spirit running over the floor How.
even. we enfiladed that trench, followed
up the retreating Huns for minute
or two, cleared out the nearest dugout,
and went on our way to the next
trench.
by this time the fumes from the
hundreds of rounds which we had fired.
with the heat from the engines and the
waste petrol and oil, have made the
air quite oppressive and uncomfortable
to breathe. Now we are nearing the
next enemy trench, and we hear the
deep report of bursting bombs. above
the pattering of the storm bullets,
striking our armor.
Shell Holes From Trench.
"Soon we find ourselves on the edge
of the Hun trench. This proves to be
of shell holes of all sizes,
Just linked together, showing how
severe our previous commandments
had been. The Huns show fight here,
and we have warm ten minutes be-
fore they give signs of retreating. We
leave them for minute or two in
order to ram machine-gun emplace.,
ment. which is still threatening our
rapidly advancing infantry. We just
crawl over the embankment, guns and
all; It Is not necessary to fire single
shot
Nov 1t is time for us to advance to
the next and last position We have the
good fortune to strike road which has
escaped serious damage, and, making
all speed along this we make up to the
Huns who have escaped from the last
trench. But they have had enough of
the all-devouring monster. and are
ready to throw down their arms and
make their way to our infantry, glad to
be prisoners.
Bombs Burst Against Armor.
1.-THE last trench proves to be, the
worst for just as we are crossing
large hole our bus stops. Two or three
Huns. seeing our diff culty, crawl out
Of a hole like rabbits and are brave
enough to creep on the back Of the
tank from behind But We hear them
on the armor and they were doomed not
to get the iron cross, for we open a
small trap-door and shoot them with a
revolver. OF course. We had seen them
before they reached the tank but as
our mechanism was giving us little
change of occupation just then, we did
not trouble about them.
"And now the old bus is going
strong gain Only just intime, for a
large lyddite bomb burst against the
armored jacket of my gun. The flare
comes in through the port-hole blind
ing me for minute or so, while small
splinters strike my face. But my gun
Is still untouched. thanks to the armor
plate, and, somehow. seems to work
much better And now | catch some
Huns retreating along trench almost
in line with burst of fire. Germans
are now scattered in small parties. It
is almost like playing at hide-and-seek
as we now travel backward and for
ward along that trench After a few
short runs we find no more Huns to
hunt
NO MORE FLAGS ON
CIT u NnK