The latest corner of World War II to be dramatised for the big screen is small. Cramped, even. In Fury, starring Brad Pitt and Shia leBeouf, we follow the story of five American soldiers, a crew serving in one tank in Germany, 1945.
Such an experience of the war was certainly unique. I was once told a story by a World War II veteran who served as a radio operator in one of the British Army tank regiments. As a treat, his son planned to drive him around all the old sites of his war service in Normandy, Holland and Germany. But the veteran said that he would not be able to recognise any of the places as all he ever saw of the terrain was a letterbox sized slit view, always looking straight ahead. Limited views and limited space was what all of those whose served in them had. It was difficult to see the enemy.
This was the irony of serving in a tank. Cut off from the world at war around you, hunkered in an armoured vehicle, yet when you were hit, all you had was a small hatchway between you and incineration. Somewhat like living inside a bomb. This was especially true of the Sherman, the tank that features in Fury – to such an extent that there are stories about Germans calling them “ronsons” after the Ronson lighter – the joke was that they lit up first time.
Those in the tanks did have the advantage over the infantry, but few creature comforts. The crew (four or five or six) would sleep under a waterproof tarpaulin, in a row alongside their tank.
While driving or in battle for hours at a time the conditions inside were almost unbearable. Some of the spent shell casings were used as makeshift bedpans to urinate into and severe constipation was very common.
Conditions inside were also cramped, the crew packed like sardines. The commander would often have his feet on the shoulders of his radio operator, and the loader in the gun turret would basically be sitting on the commander. All were connected by internal radio to hear over the constant racket generated by engine. Endurance and perseverance were the watchwords.
