Painting depicting a German trench being overrun by a British tank, 1917. Artist: William Francis Phillips.

 Painting depicting a German trench being overrun by a British tank, 1917. Artist: William Francis Phillips.

The following is excerpts of an anonymous Danish-German soldier's account of the first day of the First Battle of Cambrai, November 20, 1917 - today 106 years ago. Translated by myself:

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"At 7 AM on November 20, the British opened an artillery bombardment on our positions with the effect as if the world was going under. The dug-outs shook, and it was impossible to escape them during the bombardment.

Under protection of the destructive artillery fire, the British tanks advanced. A massive assembly of around 300 tanks crawled slowly towards the German lines, spewing death and decay around them. These tanks were unstoppable and advanced over corpses, shell holes, and trenches, deeply infiltrating the German lines and cutting off multiple regiments in the space of two hours.

The Germans put up a desperate resistance, which resulted in bitter and bloody close quarter battles. All resistance was futile. Behind the 300 tanks followed the British infantry, which took 12,000 German prisoners before noon.

During the bombardment, I lay in a small dug-out and waited for the artillery to cease. By 9:30 AM I thought it seemed like "occupation weather", and I crept out from my hideout. I saw nothing of our own troops. The earth was torn by shells. In a valley further away lay the wreck of an airplane. I felt alone and foreign, abandoned and cut off, and I realized I was now in captivity.

I ran back into the dug-out to collect my things, but whilst doing this, I heard someone make noise by the entrance. There were several who spoke, but in a language I didn't understand; they were British. Shots were fired, and the bullets hissed down into the dug-out. They shouted something I didn't understand. I stood alone in the middle of the dug-out and didn't know what to do. Should I keep calm or go up to them?

At once I heard something jumping down the stairs. I knew it was a hand-grenade, and in the next moment the dug-out would be blown apart alongside myself.