She Defies Control
“But still the ‘Razzle Dazzle’ was having her own way. Her motorist was signaling me that he had no control of her. This was cheerful intelligence because right ahead was a huge shell crater. She might slide into it and climb up the other side and out. I hoped so. But she didn’t. She hit the bottom of the pit, tried to push her way up and out, fell back, panted, pushed up again, fell back and then just stuck at the bottom of the well, throbbing and moaning and maybe penitent for her recklessness.
“Penitence wasn’t to do her any good. It wasn’t five minutes later when the Germans had the range of her and began smashing us with big shells. I ordered my men to abandon her and led them in a rush out of the crater and into small shell holes until the storm of fire was past.
“When it was, ‘Razzle Dazzle’ was a wreck. She was cracked, distorted and shapeless. But the runaway engine was still plainly to be heard throbbing. Finally a last big shell sailed into the doughty tank and there was a loud bang and a flare. Her oil reservoir shot up in an enormous blaze.
“‘Razzle Dazzle’ was no more. But she had accounted for the ‘refinery.’ And our infantry had done the rest. The German position was ours.
“I was all enthusiasm for fighting ‘tanks.’ But my superiors squelched it. For when I asked for command of a sister of ‘Razzle Dazzle’ next day, a cold-eyed aide said to me:
“‘One tank, worth ten thousand pounds, is as much as any bally young officer may expect to be given to destroy during his lifetime. Good afternoon.’”