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We stopped after an hour. The officers of our company were to go along the rail track to the Major's coach, a dilapidated first-class compartment. Officers must travel first class I remembered, though it was an age since we had known any luxury other than the snout of the tank looming above us as we lay on the boards of the tank trucks. A shaded hand torch was our illumination as we strained to catch a glimpse of the map in the circle of light. We knew it by heart anyway-except for one word clearly visible – CAMBRAI. Where the hell's that?
That was where there was a great railway junction, a nerve centre of the German army communications which, when we had broken through … Not again surely – all through those beautiful green fields? Ouderdom, Vlamertinghe, St Jean – one bit of mud is very like another whatever the name – had destroyed military fairy stories. And we were not to know that the secret operation could be discontinued at any time since there were no reserves available. Just as well perhaps – one tank was worry enough for us.
There was no port. As no one had ever suggested that the Major was a secret drinker – that was a fault of which the old rascal was incapable – we were agreed that things must be pretty serious. We dispersed to our trucks after one parting injunction.
“Remember; between the time we detrain, in about an hour I should think, and half an hour before dawn, say six o'clock, every tank must have disappeared so the enemy can see nothing, nothing, between rail-head and Havrincourt Wood.” Another blasted wood. I hoped it didn't look like men walking.
As we were last on we came off the train first when we arrived at our rail-head. Williams was there. “It may be carboned up; if so,
with a bit of luck it will burn itself clear as it goes. I'll give it a proper doing when you get to the wood.“
There was no luck. We had five miles to go and in the best conditions we were unlikely to make more than five miles an hour. Certainly the ground was dry and c