Tanks in the Great War, 1914-1918 — Context and Discussion

Diction of the New Arm

Fuller's language oscillates between technical precision and elevated metaphor. Tanks are 'machines destined to revolutionise the science of war,' yet their crews are 'modern knights in armour.' The opening dedication sets this dual tone: the 'modern military scientists' are a 'small company of gentlemen' who 'set all personal interest aside.' This chivalric register persists in action descriptions: tanks 'advanced amongst the enemy, put a field battery out of action, and by enfilading several trenches full of Germans inflicted heavy casualties.' The prose is functional—'enfilading,' 'consolidation of a line of trenches'—but the cumulative effect is of a new kind of warfare rendered in old heroic terms.

Notice how Fuller handles casualties: 'seventeen of these were hit and 70 per cent. of casualties suffered by their crews.' The statistic is stark, yet the sentence immediately pivots to strategic outcome: 'Heavy though these losses were the enemy had suffered severely, and more important still his plan of action was upset.' The human cost is acknowledged but subordinated to operational effect, a choice consistent with the author's staff-officer perspective.

Voice of the Staff Officer

The narrative voice is that of a staff officer compiling after-action reports. Fuller writes in the third person even when describing events he witnessed: 'I, the writer of this book, first set eyes on a tank towards the end of August 1916.' This personal admission is rare; most of the text adopts an impersonal, chronological tone. Actions are recorded with precise times and unit designations: 'Zero hour was fixed at 6.40 p.m., but the attack was delayed and it was almost dark before the objective was reached.' The passive construction ('was fixed,' 'was delayed') distances the author from decision-making, even as his role as Chief General Staff Officer implies involvement.

When describing the German response, Fuller uses a recurring formula: 'the German infantry would not face the tanks, and broke whenever they saw them advancing.' This assertion appears multiple times, suggesting a tactical lesson the author wants to emphasize. The repetition becomes a structural motif, reinforcing the tank's psychological impact without needing to prove it beyond the author's assertion.

Structure of the Battle Narrative

The excerpts reveal a consistent narrative pattern: a tank battalion is ordered to advance, engages under artillery fire, inflicts casualties, and either holds or withdraws. The 2nd Tank Battalion's action on March 22, 1918, exemplifies this: 'orders were issued for the 2nd Tank Battalion to advance and counter-attack the enemy... the tanks went into action alone.' The result: 'the enemy was eventually driven back behind the Vaux Vraucourt-Morchies position, which was then reoccupied by our infantry.' The sequence—order, advance, resistance, outcome—is repeated with variations across units and dates.

Fuller also includes logistical details that disrupt the heroic narrative: 'this bridge was blown up and the whole of the 5th Battalion tanks, except three, had to be destroyed for lack of petrol.' Such moments ground the account in material reality. The tank is not invincible; it is vulnerable to fuel shortages, mechanical failure, and the tactical necessity of destruction to prevent capture. These details, presented without commentary, allow the reader to see the gap between the 'great adventure' rhetoric and the mundane constraints of warfare.

Recurring Details and Their Weight

Certain details recur across the excerpts, building a cumulative picture of tank warfare. The phrase 'the enemy would not face the tanks' appears in multiple contexts, always as an explanation for success. The tank's effect on German infantry is presented as a constant, almost a law of battle. Yet Fuller also notes when this fails: 'the enemy, however, would not attack the line of tanks but worked round their flanks.' The flanking maneuver becomes the German counter-tactic, and Fuller records it without explicit analysis, letting the pattern emerge from the sequence of actions.

Another recurring element is the precise count of tanks: 'Thirty tanks took part in this action; seventeen of these were hit.' The numbers are always given, often with percentages. This quantitative habit reflects the staff officer's need to measure effectiveness. But the numbers also carry emotional weight: 70 percent casualties among crews, tanks destroyed for lack of petrol. Fuller does not dwell on these losses, but their repetition creates an undercurrent of cost beneath the operational narrative.

Fuller's account is best read as a primary source from a key participant, not as a definitive history. The author's position—Chief General Staff Officer of the Tank Corps—shapes every page: the focus on unit actions, the strategic framing, the reticence about personal experience. Readers interested in the human dimension of tank warfare will need to read between the lines of casualty figures and destroyed vehicles. For those studying the development of armored doctrine, however, this book offers an invaluable record of how the tank's early advocates understood their weapon and sought to prove its worth.

Fuller wrote about machines grinding forward in mud and fire, yet there’s something oddly intimate in his staff notes—the way a new idea felt fragile, almost embarrassed, in the field. That same quiet weight of place and memory hangs over The Wyoming Military Establishment. A History of the Twenty-fourth Regiment of Connecticut Militia An Address Before the Tioga Point Historical Society, Delivered — Key Ideas to Explore, a local history I keep returning to, half-remembered, like a photograph in a drawer. Both feel less like battles and more like the uneasy quiet after names are read aloud.