The foremost fact of life as a tanker is the importance of maintenance and logistics. The track system and roadwheels take a great deal of abuse from large rocks, tree stumps and other assorted battlefield wreckage when the tank moves any significant distance. The track, held together by long pins, wants to fall apart and the crew must constantly monitor it for signs of damage. Most tanks carried a few spare track blocks, but extra track pins to hold them together were often scarce. Good crews check the track and roadwheels at every halt of more than a few minutes and conduct spot-tightening. If they fail to do so, crews can expect to routinely throw track (i.e. the track comes off the roadwheels), which immobilizes the vehicle. In tank platoons and companies, it is imperative that junior leaders force tank crews to conduct routine maintenance – even in extreme cold weather, muddy field conditions and during combat operations. Friction is a tank’s worst enemy and river crossings tend to wash grease out of fittings on the running gear, which can cause roadwheel hubs to burn out if not tended to soon after fording. For example, a T-34 required a minimum of 1kg of grease for each 100km the tank moved on dry surface, but this would need to be replaced sooner if water obstacles were crossed. All tank engines and transmissions leak oil to some degree, particularly as filters and gaskets wear out.
German tank engines often relied on rubber gaskets, which were prone to brittleness in the frigid Russian winters, leading to massive oil leaks if not promptly replaced. Turret systems including hydraulic reservoirs, optics and radios needed to be checked as well and the main gun needed to be bore-sighted again (usually by using string across the muzzle and a snake board target) after any significant move or firing. If the optical telescope and main gun went out of alignment due to hits on the turret or a very bumpy ride, then the tank’s gunner would have a difficult time hitting targets. On a weekly basis, crews needed to check the engine and transmission for wear (often detected by tiny metal shavings in the engine compartment, indicating excessive wear), as well as the batteries, leaf springs or torsion bars and brake systems. Contrary to photos depicting the ‘difficulty’ of panzer crews in cleaning the gun tube with a cleaning rod (a five–ten-minute job), one of the worst tasks was replacing a snapped torsion bar, which necessitated pulling off multiple road wheels and plenty of sledgehammer work to get the broken pieces out (in typical field conditions, a four–six-hour job). If tanks were driven with one broken torsion bar, the shifting weight would likely break the next torsion bar as well. Both sides often pushed their tanks to operate in ‘degraded mode’, with broken or worn parts, but tanks in this condition were often little more than placeholders with decreased combat value. The most important vehicles at the tank battalion level are the recovery vehicles and fuel trucks, which are essential to keeping the unit functional.
The man standing in the cupola of the tank turret is usually divided into one of two types: a tank commander or a tank rider. The Wehrmacht was particularly adept in 1941–43 at putting the right officer or NCO in the cupola, a man with the training and proven leadership ability to aggressively lead his tank section, platoon or company into combat. A tank commander is bold and is trained to use the shock effect, firepower and mobility of armour to accomplish his mission. In contrast, the Red Army was very weak in junior officer and NCO training at the start of the war and few tank commanders displayed bold aggressiveness. A tank rider is a passive fellow, a follower, one who obeys orders but shows little initiative. Unfortunately, Stalin’s purges had stifled initiative at lower levels and encouraged a great deal of passivity in the ranks, which greatly undermined the combat value of Red Army tank units in the first year of the war. A common mishap – other than sudden death – for tank riders was to allow their tank to ram its gun tube either into the ground, or trees or buildings while moving, damaging the weapon. Eventually, by 1943–44, the Red Army began to gain experienced, aggressive junior leaders who could excel at small unit leadership in combat, while the quality of German junior tank leaders declined steadily after 1942.
In combat, the crew became a closed-off entity, with only fleeting awareness of friendly tanks and infantry around them. German tank commanders were trained to move and fight ‘unbuttoned’ (i.e. cupola hatch open and head out), which gave them better situational awareness in battle, but exposed them to the risk of injury from artillery, snipers or machine-gun fire.[11] Soviet tank commanders were taught to fight ‘buttoned-up’ and to rely upon their vision blocks, which proved totally inadequate. For a system that placed so little value on the lives of its soldiers, it is odd that the Red Army enforced ‘buttoned-up’ tank operations, since this sacrificed situational awareness and often enabled small numbers of German tanks to outfight superior numbers of Soviet tanks. Many of the accounts that extol the lethality of German tank gunnery fail to note the contribution of ‘buttoned-up’ tactics to these kill tallies; better situational awareness allowed the Germans to shoot first and inflict massive damage before the surviving Soviet tanks could even detect them. Inside the tank turret, experiencing the main gun firing is akin to a small explosion inside a building, and the turret quickly fills with choking ammonia fumes. A good crew turns on the turret blower before firing, which reduces the noxious gases, but it was not unusual for novice Soviet crews to be vomiting inside their turrets after half a dozen rounds were fired. German tanks normally did not fire their main guns while on the move as it was too inaccurate; they preferred to seek out good defilade positions, where terrain obscured the hull but allowed the turret to fire at approaching enemies. In contrast, the Red Army had attempted to develop gun stabilization systems before the war and often encouraged crews to fire on the move. Very little tank fighting occurred at night, since tanks could not effectively engage targets at ranges much beyond 100 meters unless flares were fired, but this tended to aid the defender more than the attacker.
Aside from maintenance and combat, the rest of a tank crew’s life was focused on getting adequate food and sleep. Compared to infantrymen, tankers are very comfort-oriented and this often led them to commit tactically imprudent actions. When panzers from Kampfgruppe Eberbach stormed into Orel in October 1941, one platoon from 6./Pz.Regt 35 left their vehicles unguarded so that they could go sleep in nearby buildings – and were then surprised when Soviet tanks counterattacked into the city during the night.[12] Semen L. Aria, a Soviet tanker, recalled that on a freezing night in the winter of 1942–43, his crew decided to sleep in a peasant hut without posting a guard over their T-34. In the morning, the tank had been stolen by another unit; Aria was sent to a penal unit.[13] During a big push, tank crews were usually given several days’ rations, but these were soon consumed and it could take days or even weeks for normal supply services to catch up. Both German and Soviet tankers often had to rely upon appropriating food from local civilians during mobile operations. Soviet tankers called this ‘Grandmother’s rations’. German tankers called it looting. Tanks were often required to move at night to avoid enemy aerial observation and sleep-deprived crews were more prone to road accidents. In moving through wooded areas at night, it was not unusual for tank commanders standing in a cupola to be abruptly woken up by tree branches across the face. Commanders had to constantly talk to their drivers over the intercom during night road marches, lest they nod off.
11
Wolfgang Schneider,
12
Arthur Wollschlaeger, ‘The Raid on Orel’, in
13
Artem Drabkin & Oleg Sheremet,