On 31 May 1918, the German army launches a sudden attack near the Forest of Retz near Ploisy in the north-east of France. It is the last year of World War One, and the Germans are desperately trying to beat the Western Allies.
A British blockade is crippling the German economy. Those back at home are suffering shortages of fuel and food. The German Empire faces starvation and defeat.
As the French units at Retz try to resist the onslaught, they are joined by reinforcements. Among them is a new tank: the FT. Compared to the giant, lumbering British tanks that have been used with mixed results for the past 18 months, these are tiny. There is only room for two people inside them.
But they are remarkably effective. The 30 tanks rushed to this battle help to push the Germans back. The tanks only stop advancing because the accompanying infantry cannot keep up with them.
At the site of this action, a century later, there is now a plaque, commemorating the first use of what is arguably the ancestor of every modern tank. The tiny FT is a paradigm of far-sighted design.
And it owes its existence to an unlikely pairing: a pragmatic artillery officer and one of France’s most renowned carmakers.
FT 17
