Under the cover of over a hundred tanks, the regrouped American forces launched another assault on the German positions.
WWI-era tanks were pretty slow. Take the French-made Renault FT-17, the main tank used by the Americans.
By WWII standards, this 7-ton vehicle would be classified as a super-light tank. But thanks to its anemic powertrain, it had none of the mobility advantages of later light tanks. Top speed was a pathetic 6 miles per hour, and its operational range was a laughable 25 miles.
That sluggish pace gave the Germans plenty of time to react.
As soon as the Americans kicked off their attack, the German troops on the front lines spotted the enemy tanks right away.
Crown Prince Wilhelm, who was at the front, also got the intel within minutes.
"The enemy’s deployed tanks?"
"A lot of them—over a hundred!"
Hearing the news, Wilhelm risked getting caught in the artillery barrage and scrambled up to a higher position. He pulled out his binoculars and scanned the enemy’s direction.
Because tanks were still brand new, no army in WWI really knew the right way to use them. Everyone was still figuring it out.
During the Battle of the Somme, the British had actually sent tanks into battle without any infantry support. What a disaster.
Luckily for the Brits, the Germans were also seeing tanks for the first time. They had no clue what these things were. The weird, boxy shape scared the hell out of them, and they didn’t dare counterattack.
If you’d swapped those trench defenders for any German unit from WWII, every single one of those British tanks at the Somme would’ve been turned into scrap metal.
After that fiasco, every major power started using tanks as mobile bunkers to shield infantry advances. That’s how combined arms tactics were born.
And that’s exactly what the Americans were doing now.
Behind almost every tank was a full platoon of infantry.
They were hunched over, sticking close to the armor, and inching their way forward.
The German bullets were useless—the tanks absorbed every round, so the American infantry hiding behind them took zero casualties.
The enemy had already pushed forward over 300 yards. In just a few more minutes, their infantry would be right on top of the German trenches.
Once that happened, the tanks’ firepower would pin the German defenders down. The first line of defense would be in serious danger of falling.
Wilhelm had to act fast, or the Germans would be screwed.
After sizing up the situation, Wilhelm made his call:
"Switch the mortars to high-explosive shells. Hit the enemy tanks and the infantry behind them from above!"
"Tell the howitzer regiment to up the charge. Increase the blast radius to take out the tank crews!"
WWI anti-tank weapons weren’t nearly as advanced as they’d be later in the war. The Germans only had a handful of anti-tank rifles and guns.
But the front line stretched for 15 miles. That tiny stash of anti-tank weapons was nowhere near enough.
They had to get creative!
WWI tanks had paper-thin armor—about 0.8 inches thick at best. The rear and top armor was even weaker, less than 0.4 inches in some spots.
The German Mauser rifles and Maxim machine guns couldn’t penetrate it, but large-caliber mortars and howitzers could absolutely wreck these things.
Especially mortars. Their ballistic arc was unique—just like the top-attack anti-tank missiles of the future. They could drop shells right on top of a tank. A direct hit would punch through that thin roof armor and turn the crew inside into hamburger.
Once the orders went out, the German gunners sprang into action.
Inside the trenches, German soldiers hauled out their 76mm heavy mortars.
They quickly adjusted the angle, shoved in a 10-pound high-explosive shell, and let it fly.
With a dull thud, the shell arced through the sky and slammed into a moving American tank.
BOOM!
The shell detonated right on the tank’s roof. The Renault’s flimsy 0.2-inch roof armor stood no chance. Flames and shrapnel poured through the hole, killing every single crew member inside.
The infantry hiding behind the tank didn’t fare any better. The shrapnel tore through them—over a dozen guys dropped on the spot.
Some bought the farm instantly. The rest were screaming in agony, writhing on the ground.
Since tanks were moving targets and mortars weren’t exactly precision weapons, not many tanks took a direct hit.
But for the infantry huddled behind the armor, that mortar barrage was an absolute nightmare.
Any shell that landed to the sides or rear of the tanks ripped through the American foot soldiers. The only ones spared were the ones directly behind the tank’s frontal armor.
But the real killers weren’t the mortars—it was the German heavy howitzers.
The moment the order came through, the German artillery batteries upped their powder charges and switched to high-explosive rounds across the board.
The big guns roared. Heavy shells rained down on the battlefield like a storm.
The explosions were deafening, like rolling thunder. Blast waves and shrapnel swept across the field, mowing down waves of American troops.
Even some of the tanks, caught in the blasts and flying shrapnel, were disabled and ground to a halt.
The American commanders and the British and French observers watching from the rear all frowned. They’d seen their tanks taken out by enemy fire before.
But was it just them, or were way more tanks getting destroyed today than usual?
"No big deal. Just a few dents. We can afford those losses," General Liggett said, trying to sound calm and steady, as if the casualties meant nothing.
America had a population of 100 million, with over 4 million men under arms. They could definitely stomach these numbers.
But that cold, callous attitude reminded the British of Douglas Haig—the "Butcher of the Somme."
Back then, Haig had the exact same mindset. Even as British casualties mounted into the hundreds of thousands at the Somme, he didn’t give a damn. He refused to rethink his tactics and just kept sending more men to their deaths. In just a few months, over 400,000 British soldiers were killed or wounded!
Now, watching the Americans act exactly the same, the British felt a sickening sense of déjà vu.
This battle was shaping up to be the Americans’ own Somme.