Chapter 1

It’s late in the second world war and the US is gearing up for the invasion of Europe. Experienced tankers have been brought back from North Africa to help design a better tank and better tactics, as well as train new tankers.

It was to be an up-armored M4 Sherman tank and was officially designated as the M4A3E2 Jumbo. Up-armored meant that it was a standard M4A3 Sherman tank with one and a half inch steel plates welded to the front glacis, and sponsons (the sides above the tracks). Because of the forty six degree slope of the glacis the effective thickness of the armor was just over seven inches. The actual thickness was four inches. It also had a beefier turret with seven inch thick cast iron on the sides and back and a seven inch thick gun mantle in front. The transmission walls (front) were also thicker than the standard M4.

For power it had a Ford GAA V-8 engine that was reliable, though with the additional ten tons of weight (42 tons total) but it was underpowered for the weight. The top road speed was down seven MPH to twenty two from having to change the gear ratios in the transmission. Its eleven hundred cubic inch engine produced one thousand and fifty foot pounds of torque and was rated at four hundred fifty horsepower.

The Jumbos were to have been equipped with a more powerful 76mm main gun, but because of the Army doctrine of using tanks as infantry support vehicles they received the standard 75mm gun that almost all Sherman’s had. The tank held ninety to one hundred and seven of the three inch shells in “wet” compartments that prevented the catastrophic fires of the early production Sherman’s when they were hit. The tracks were made wider by bolting on “Duckbills” to outside of each tread of the tract to improve “floatation”. It wasn’t the best solution, but was better than nothing.

The standard M4 Sherman tanks did have some advantages over their German opponents, they were on par with the Panzers III and early Panzer IVs but they had trouble with the later Panzer V, Panthers and Tiger I & IIs.

But the Sherman’s advantages were important and certainly helped to win the war.

More reliable Relatively cheap to build A numerical advantage, almost fifty thousand of them were produced between 1942 and 1945. Easier to work on and repair. The gun was stabilized, the tank gunner knew where the gun was elevated at all times! German tanks were not stabilized and precious seconds were lost in trying to orient the gun. The turret turned faster. The sixty nine inch diameter race of the turret (larger than even the Tiger II’s by inches) would turn 360 degrees in fifteen seconds. As a result the gun could bear on targets faster. The gun could be loaded and fired four times faster than the Germans guns.

There were disadvantages though,

Thin front and side armor Tracks were not wide enough, the amount of “float” limited its ability to traverse loose sand and muddy fields. The 75mm gun wasn’t heavy enough for head on tank to tank battles at long ranges. They had to get up close. Its nine foot height made it easier to spot and harder to hide.

The M4A3E2 Jumbo was built to solve some of those problems, they were designated as Assault Tanks. They would lead the columns of tanks of a platoon or a company. When contact with the enemy was made, it would draw the fire of enemy tanks, or anti tank guns, including the infantry hand held recoilless Panzerfaust weapon. Once the enemy positions were identified, the follow on, regular M4A3 tanks would spread out and try to surround or at least flank their positions.

I’m Sergeant Ben Carson In August, 1944, I was assigned the third Jumbo that came off of the assembly line at the General Motors Grand Blanc, Michigan, Fisher Body Tank Plant. I had been fighting in tanks since the beginning of the war and had had two of them destroyed during tank to tank battles. The first time was in an M3 Lee, it was hit by a German 88 at Kasserine Pass; I was the only survivor. The second time was up from the beaches at Anzio in a Sherman, a Panzer II nailed the front glacis, killing the driver, the assistant driver/machine gunner, wounding me and the loader. The gunner was barely scratched. After recovering in the states, I had been assigned to Fort Knox to help formulate the best use of the up-armored Jumbo. Using them to lead columns had been one of my suggestions.

They let me pick my own crew from the enlisted ranks of soldiers that had volunteered to become tankers. I wanted the best, and I looked over the list of the top ten students in each position in the tank. I met with each one to evaluate their personalities, because I knew that it wasn’t enough to be the best at doing something if you couldn’t get along with the rest of the crew.

The first position I wanted to fill was driver. With my experience I knew that having a driver with quick reflexes and excellent driving skills would often mean the difference between life and death. When the driver was told hard right, it might be because a German tank was on their right flank and was about to fire at them. Turning instantly on the order and putting the thicker front glacis toward the enemy was imperative. Or sometimes just stopping and backing up could save them. I also wanted a driver that knew about the engines and mechanical systems on the tank, a mechanic.

I started with number ten and interviewed them counting down the list. I found that all of them had the driving skills, four of them came from farms in the Midwest, and two had been operating bulldozers at construction sites. Of the last four, there was only one that had much experience at driving anything fast, he was a scrawny, tiny guy with a high pitched voice. He was Jewish and he was a race car driver and mechanic. The other three knew how to drive from the book, but hadn’t ever raced their own cars. Of the ten, only the scrawny guy knew everything I asked him about an internal combustion engine. He was also very friendly and wasn’t afraid to ask questions. It wasn’t surprising that he was the number one guy on the top ten list. His name was Ira Rosenthal and he was nineteen years old.

His first question he asked in his high pitched voice, was, “Sarge, do we stay with the tank or do we go overseas and get a different tank assigned to us?” I didn’t know the answer.

“Ira, I don’t know the answer to that. Why do you want to know?”

“I don’t want to drive a standard tank that only goes twenty two miles per hour on the road! I want to modify the tank, improve the engine, rather than four hundred fifty horsepower, I want an engine that cranks out five hundred fifty horsepower, or even six hundred. But if I make the modifications, I want the same tank when we get to Europe!”

“You can get that much more horsepower out of that engine?”

“Easily!”

“What problems would the additional horsepower create in the transmission and driveshaft?”

“I might have to put a heavier driveshaft and u-joints in it, and balance the shaft so it handles higher RPMs, but the transmission should handle the increased horsepower with no problem.”

“How are you going to increase the horsepower?”

“If I can have free reign to do everything I want to do, I would put on the same carburetor and GE turbocharger that the B17 bombers have. I would modify the camshaft or machine a new one to extend the amount of time they are open so more air/fuel mixture enters the cylinder, and less back pressure is created expelling the exhaust gasses. Port and polish the heads to give a more even airflow into the cylinder and out as exhaust. I would balance and blueprint every moving part. Install exhaust headers rather than using stock exhaust manifolds. And replace the mechanical fuel pump with an electric one. And maybe do some other things, but not if we’re not keeping her!”

“I’ll check that out! If we can keep her, how are we going to work this?”

“I made a friend down at the engine shop, I’ll get a brand new engine and my Dad, brother, and I will completely rebuild it, then we’ll swap it out. Swapping it would only take a couple of hours!”

“How long would all that take?”

“If I can get my Dad to bring his tools and his helper down here from Lewisville, about a week!”

I had Ira drive the tank for almost an hour. His reflexes were great! Every turn was executed immediately and with precision. He wasn’t afraid to make a turn at almost full speed. Coming to a stop and reversing happened in seconds, almost throwing me into the hatch coaming. The kid was great! I told him to grab his stuff and go to our unit barracks, I would get an answer to his question by tonight.

I asked my commanding officer, 1st Lieutenant Paul Shepherd, if we would be keeping the same tank when we arrived in Europe. He had to ask his Captain, the question made its way up the chain of command, it was late the next day before the answer returned down the chain of command to me. The answer was yes, we would be keeping the same tanks. Along with that we were all told that we could personalize our tanks. What they meant was painting names on their sides, Ira was going to go a bit further than that!

After I told Ira the decision, he asked permission for a pass that would let him leave the base everyday, along with the use of a “Deuce and a half” truck.

Next, I began looking for a loader, someone who was strong, quick, and had endurance. The rounds weighed between eighteen and twenty pounds. A good loader could help fire up to twenty rounds a minute. The tank held ninety to one hundred two rounds in wet storage in the floor of the turret. That meant the loader had to lean down from his seat, pick up the round chest high, then slide it into the breach of the M3 75mm gun for as long as there was a threat, or target(s) to shoot at. And he had to do all of that without dropping a single round ... dropping a round was a very bad thing.

To find the right person I held a contest between the top ten tankers, but opened it to other challengers. I posted signs all over the base. The winner would be the guy who could pick up the most twenty pound three inch pipes from their feet and slide them into and through a three and a quarter inch opening in two minutes. Anyone was welcome to try. The prize was free beer for the rest of the night for himself and two friends. The contest was held at a club just off base.

Thirty guys showed up! A problem arose when three negros showed up to compete. First, the club manager didn’t want them in his club, then other contestants didn’t want to compete with them. I told the manager that I would move the contest to another bar. And I told the other contestants that they didn’t have to compete.

On the night of the contest all but two of the guys that had signed up, showed up. They weren’t missed. I had one hundred and twenty pipes made, each weighing twenty pounds. They were divided into three stations that had a stool elevated off of a box containing the pipes storing the pipes horizontally. And a vertical piece of ¾” plywood with a three and a quarter inch hole in it at chest high. Not only did they race each other, they raced the clock. The three negros raced each other, their times were among the fastest.

After an hour, the top twelve raced each other. After another hour the top six raced again. Then the top three fastest raced a final time just thirty minutes later. The winner was a negro, PFC Leroy Bucknor a twenty year old cook. He was very friendly and was able to hold an intelligent conversation after I got on to him about his jive talk. He became articulate and friendly.

I asked Ira if she knew anyone that he felt would be a good assistant driver and be able to man the 30 caliber machine gun effectively. He had a good friend that was not only an excellent shot, but a good driver and mechanic. So I met with Corporal Ralph Johnson. After giving him the same driving test I had given Ira we drove to the firing range where he demonstrated his expertise on the machine gun.

I asked him if he had any problem being around a negro. He just said that he had never been around one, but would have an open mind. In that regard, I needed to get everyone together and start team building. Being inside a small enclosed space for hours at a time was bad enough, the pressures of combat would add a whole new level to interpersonal relationships.

I also wanted to get recommendations for a gunner, the last open spot. That called for a BBQ! I went to the welding shop and gave them a sketch of what I wanted. At the PX I ordered steaks, (I didn’t have time to do a brisket and the butcher didn’t have one anyway), potatoes, beans, bread and beer. I also assembled the ingredients for my own sauce. I found a place nearby that had charcoal. The affair was scheduled for next Sunday afternoon.