My Scribbles!!

The Tank

©) 2003, 2023 by Bill Floyd

All Rights Reserved

This is a chapter from my semi-autobiographic novel, Brothers of a Feather, the story of a small tight-knit gang of four boys from the fourth grade to graduation from high school. In truth, the stories herein include several friends other than the original four, but are represented by the original four in the stories. Many chapters, like this one, are also stand-alone complete short stories. A few, including this one are 100% true. Only the names have been changed to protect the guilty.

As he ran through the fairgrounds gate, Jimmy couldn’t believe his eyes.  There, just past the gate, was a real army tank.  At least, he was sure it must be real.  It was huge. 

The fair had never had a tank before and no one had mentioned it being here this year.  Of course, Jimmy’s friends probably had not been to the fair yet.  This was rural Prince Edward County Virginia, just a few years after the Brown versus Board of Education case had made the county a national focus of the Civil Rights movement.  Prince Edward County was one of the defendants in the case, and further, was the one the US Justice Department was in the process of making bear the brunt of the “punishment” for noncompliance.  But the proposed remedies had not been put in place yet, and the fair still had its “Colored Students Day” on Tuesdays, the first full day of the fair and it’s “White Students Day” on Wednesdays.  And today was Wednesday.

Word was, and admittedly there could have been some truth to it, that the “Colored” day was first so the rides would be tested by them and not the white students.  

Jimmy headed straight to the tank.  There he met Sergeant Jackson, with the local National Guard unit.  Sergeant Jackson, explained patiently to Jimmy, as he must have to hundreds of passers-by, both young and not so young, that this was a military awareness program, being sponsored by the US Army through the local guard unit, to showcase the military prowess. 

This was a tumultuous time in world affairs.  Aside from the school issues mentioned above, which had a direct bearing on the local populace.  Sputnik had just a year earlier embarrassed the US’s military might.  The French were in deep trouble in Indo-China. Khrushchev, the Soviet Premier, had just threatened to bury America and raise its children under Communism, from the floor of the United Nations.  Him rapping his shoe on the podium of the UN had been played over and over on National TV and had made quite an impression on Jimmy and probably every kid in America.  Every school kid lived in fear of a nuclear attack any day.  Everyone that had two nickels to rub together was thinking of building or even actively building bomb shelters.  Jimmy himself, spent many hours at night worrying sleeplessly about the threat of nuclear war and devising makeshift fallout shelters, if only in his mind. 

This obsession of building a fallout shelter was fanned by the atmosphere of the day.  Air raid sirens were tested regularly, sometime more than once a week and often during school hours.  Each time, the children were ordered to get under their desks, which for most of them was virtually impossible and was absolutely and totally ludicrous, as it would have made no difference whatsoever.  But it did serve to scare the populace, especially the younger segment, half to death.  This was a time when all good Americans were shaking in their boots about the imminent Communist threat. It was the age of Joe McCarthy and his Senate hearings to root out Communists in America, whether there were any or not.

The teacher’s would turn on the radio for instructions.  Several times a day, and always coordinated with these less frequent siren blasts, the radio would go silent – – then it would start blaring an eerie warning sound.  After a few seconds of this, which often seemed to last for eternity, everyone was reminded over the radio that this had been a test, just a test, they would repeat, of the emergency broadcasting system and if it had been a real emergency they would have been directed to turn to 640 or 1240 on their radio dial for further instructions from the emergency broadcasting system. Each time the alarms sounded, lots of people were sure this one was the real thing.  It was scary stuff, especially to little kids.   

Jimmy spent hours in school trying to design a fallout shelter he could build with no money from the huge pile of concrete blocks piled in the yard beside the tar-paper shack he called home.  These had been bought several years earlier by his grandmother, who intended to rebuild the farmhouse that had burned completely to the ground when Jimmy was just a baby, living far away in Fredericksburg.   

The shack had just been designed as a temporary shelter and even though it had been expanded twice, Jimmy still considered it a temporary thing.  However, he was not at all reluctant to use the bricks to build a bomb shelter, given the level of terror that was being invoked in the budding crisis media that was eventually to be heavily responsible for “America the Afraid” as we have unwittingly become today. 

The world truly seemed to be a dangerous place.

So, the Pentagon had built up a propaganda campaign to raise military awareness, both for future troop needs and for gaining support for the monstrous military buildups that were beginning to occur as the Government secretly plotted to enter the war in Indo-China – – specifically Viet Nam as we were later to know it.  The US already had thousands of “advisors” on the ground in Viet Nam. This huge tank was just a small, visible part of this massive campaign.

No sooner had Jimmy left the tank than he saw Hack, one of his “gang” coming back from the main part of the fairgrounds, toward the tank, walking straight at him. 

Hack yelled to Jimmy “Come here quick!”

Jimmy broke out in a run and followed Hack, who motioned to him to come and then headed off toward what was known at the fair as the “Commercial Tent.”  This was where business exhibits were featured at this rather huge fair for such a small town.  Locally, this was known as the “Five County Fair” and it was really big, being much larger, for example, than the West Virginia State Fair at that time and almost as big as the Virginia State Fair. 

The fair, held in late September each year was the biggest social event of the year in the entire five-county area and was the largest event of any kind held on an annual basis anywhere between Richmond, sixty miles east and Lynchburg, 50 miles west.  Crowds well in excess of 25,000 were common.  This was quite a showing for an area that had only one town, Farmville – – three miles east – -that even began to approach 1,000 people and Farmville barely had 5,000 when it was at its peak.     

Hack led Jimmy to the rest of their Gang.  There were five of them in all, counting Hack and Jimmy.  Hack and the others had arrived earlier and had been waiting for Jimmy to execute their “plan.”  Jimmy was usually the planner in the group, but this day, the others had come up with a wild and exciting little scheme all on their own.  They quickly outlined it to Jimmy, who, without even offering a single suggestion for a change – – a highly unusual reaction for him – – just said “Let’s do it!”

The plan was this.  They would go to the tank when the Sergeant was away for a break.   Hack had arrived early and talked to him enough to learn that he was there by himself, except for a recruiter in the Commercial Tent and had been there when he left for a break earlier that morning.  The tank was then completely unguarded.  Of course, the National Guard unit that provided the tank had removed the batteries and the Sergeant closed the hatch when he was away, but Hack had watched and saw that it was simple to just turn a crank and reopen it.

They planned to SEIZE THE TANK and hold it for at least the rest of the day!!

Hack had learned that the Sergeant was merely a recruiting officer assigned to the tank and was referring young men that might qualify to the recruiting office just inside the Commercial Tent.  He literally didn’t know a lot about the tank, as he was not a tank officer at all.

R. D. was the biggest of the boys, being rather large for his thirteen years.  He would turn 14 before the school year was out.  He weighed well over 200 pounds and stood almost six feet tall.  Next was Rex, a bright young lad who seemed out of place in the gang until you realized he was a year younger than the others and looked up to the older boys and got to do things he otherwise might not get to do by being part of this unusual little group.  Last was Dicky, a very small and not very bright kid who was a complete misfit in the gang, except for …, well that’s the subject of a whole ‘nother story. 

Hack was the bold, daring member.  He was the natural leader.  Jimmy was generally the brains of the operation, being the brightest of the boys.  But in school, he was branded “teachers pet” and given other similar labels, which made him far less popular outside of this small gang. 

This time, the gang had usurped Jimmy’s role and planned the entire adventure before he got there.  It did not hurt at all that Hack’s uncle was a tank mechanic in the Army at nearby Camp Pickett.  This had enabled Hack to see the inside of a very similar tank and gave him some useful information that would help them commandeer and hold this fighting machine. 

They all went back and waited for the Sergeant to leave, which, luckily , he soon did.  It was decided that the crowd around the tank, even though fairly small, might interfere if they attempted to all go in at once.  So, the plan was for R. D. and Hack to get in the tank as soon as Hack opened the hatch since Hack knew his way around and R. D. was the biggest and might have trouble maneuvering through their “secret entrance”. 

So, with the other three boys gathering around for cover to keep others away as best as possible while Hack and R. D. slipped in, Hack opened the hatch and R. D. quickly made his way down the small ladder, followed by Hack.  As soon as Hack was in, he pulled down the hatch and locked it from the inside with a heavy steel latch provided for that purpose.  The outside latch was just an add-on for the display, but the inside latch was part of the regular armor system of the tank and was designed to keep the enemy out!!

The crowd surrounding the tank started making a bit of a disturbance, but the boys were amazed at how little reaction they actually got.  Since people could no longer enter the tank with the Sergeant gone anyway, the crowd had somewhat died down.  A few other kids started complaining but there was no massive groundswell of resistance as the boys had feared.  Now they went into phase two of the plan.  Hack immediately went below in the tank and lowered the bottom hatch door, which was completely removable. 

Jimmy and Rex “protested” a little while, from, the top of the tank, for the other boys to let them in, as they had planned.  “Hey you jerks open this tank up and let us in” Jimmy yelled.  But they did not protest too much as they also did not want to bring attention to themselves and quickly just became part of the crowd wanting in. 

Slowly, the three “gang” members still outside, one at a time slipped away from the center of the crowd and slid along the ground under the tank without being noticed..  This was handily aided by a large platform that had been built along one side and across the front of the tank for people to easily get up to the turret to get to the hatch.  The platform, which in front, went all the way to the ground, blocked the boys completely from view of those trying to get to the top of the tank and those on the ground on that side. 

The back of the tank was near a fence that turned at a right angle just a few feet behind the tank, so it was set up perfectly to shield the boys from view.  Within a few minutes of the takeover, all five of the boys were inside the tank.  Hack replaced the bottom hatch.  They were now completely secure.  Nothing short of a small bomb would remove them, at least so they thought.   

The crowds began to clamor louder for them to come out and soon, the boys realized that the Sergeant had returned from his break.  The Sergeant demanded to know what was causing all of the ruckus.  An adult at the top of the hatch, who had been trying to get in, explained that two boys had gone in and locked the hatch.  The Sergeant asked the crowd to step back and in effect, cleared the deck around the turret.  He then calmly said in a very commanding voice “Who is in my tank?”. 

He got no answer.  “He repeated, in a slightly elevated voice “Who is in my tank?”

Still no answer. 

This time he screamed “Who the hell is in my tank?”

Still no answer. 

He then demanded again, this time in a shrill voice that cracked and showed some fear “Who is in my tank?”

At this point, Hack was beginning to get really bold and reached for a small knob on a lever near the turret hatch and started turning it.  The turret slowly started turning around to the right. 

The Sargent screamed to the crowd, which was already clear of the turret “Get back, get back!” The only person anywhere near the turning turret at this point was the Sergeant himself. 

Hack continued to turn the turret until it had gone around over 120 degrees.   The Sergeant just stood back in awe, his only reaction was to ensure people did not get in the way of the turning gun, which stuck out over twelve feet from the turret.  Then Hack reversed the direction of the knob and started turning the turret in the other direction.  Pointing to another small knob beside Jimmy, who was now sitting in a small seat beside Hack, he directed Jimmy to turn that knob.  This elevated the gun on the turret.  Turning this knob in the other direction, Jimmy quickly noted, lowered the gun.

By now, the Sergeant was over his initial surprise.  He was livid and screaming obscenities even this wild bunch had never heard. 

The boys could only see out through three small slits in the turret, one looking straight down the barrel of the huge cannon and the other two, slightly smaller, looking off to the sides.  Each was partially obscured by a thick piece of glass, yellowing with age. that was obviously designed to stop bullets and not to block the view.   But it made it impossible for the Sergeant to see anything inside the tank. 

Suddenly, R. D. screamed, Jimmy, you’re pinning me.  Hack was actually the one turning the turret and that is what had pinned R. D. between his seat and the turret housing.   R. D. had not been seated like a good soldier and was about to get crushed.  Fortunately, Hack was turning the turret with the manual screw and the battery was not in place.  Had it been, the turret would probably have cut R. D. In half.  With the batteries, the turret would have turned several feet in less than a second.  With the manual crank, it was turning just inches at a turn. 

Hack quickly backed the turret up a few inches and R. D. was released.  He had not been hurt – – just scared out of his wits. 

Again, the Sergeant screamed at the boys “Stop turning that turret before you kill somebody!!”

Again, he was ignored. 

Now, all of the gang was anxious for a turn at turning the turret and raising and lowering the gun.  They began to make more commotion than they had realized.  The Sergeant had wisely quit trying to talk to them and was now just listening to them talk to each other.  He walked down from the platform next to the tank and asked the adult who had spoken to him earlier if he was sure there were just two boys in the tank.  He said he had only seen two, but there could have been others in the tank before those two went in. 

Unfortunately for the Sergeant and fortunately for the boys, this ended any thought the Sergeant might have otherwise developed about other ways to get in and out of the tank.  People continued to come up to look at the tank and were allowed to look at it from the ground but were not allowed up on the platform. 

Suddenly, the boys heard a loud thump.  The turret had been turned so far that the gun barrel hit a power pole that was almost directly behind the tank, in the corner of the fence.  Nobody involved with the placing of the tank had even considered that anybody might need room to turn it. Of course, according to the original plans, they shouldn’t have.  But then this commandeering was totally outside the plan.     

After a while longer, some of the boys were getting slightly bored with this slow motion of the turret and the raising and lowering of the gun was now very monotonous.  The lack of anything else to do other than “hold the fort” was taking its toll. 

Silence ensued.  The boys finally realized that the Sergeant had quit making demands.  They suddenly became attentive as to what had happened.  The truth was, the Sergeant, a good soldier, had finally come to grips with what he was dealing with and decided to just sit a few minutes and decide on a logical course of action.

He used his walkie talkie, as Army radios were then called, to summon his Lieutenant from the recruiting center in the Commercial tent. 

The boys, who now had held the tank for almost an hour, were beginning to get hungry.  They decided it was perfectly safe to send “troops” out on a mission to get food.  Jimmy and Rex were chosen to go to the fairground food vendors and get snacks for the entire crew.  They quickly took orders, collected money and crawled out through the bottom hatch to get “supplies”.  They were gone for forty-five minutes, because of the crowds around the snack bars and the fact they decided to eat before they returned.  When they finally got back, they  could see that the crowd around the tank was now huge and they took an extra few minutes to scout the area before going straight to the bottom hatch. 

When they realized they were still perfectly safe, they headed for the bottom hatch.  R. D. was so mad by now that they had been gone so long, he screamed so loud “Where the hell have you been?” that every member of the gang was sure they would get caught.  But, the milling crowd noise was now even louder and the boys were worried for nothing.  No one could possibly have heard them over the crowd.

It was now mid-afternoon and the crowd at the fair was building rapidly for the huge evening celebrations planned for the day.  As the crowd grew, the crowd around the tank grew even faster.  Everybody wanted a peak inside a real tank.  But it was not to be, at least anytime soon.

Rex and Jimmy quickly distributed the food and noticed that Hack was gone.  “Where’s Hack?” Jimmy asked.

“He was starving and said he had to get something to eat right away.  He left about twenty minutes ago” R. D. replied.  “He just couldn’t or wouldn’t wait any longer”. 

“Me neither” added Dicky “But I was scared to leave.”

The boys noticed that the tank now seemed much warmer inside than before.  Even though it was a fairly cool day, the afternoon sun was beginning to make the closed tank uncomfortable for several boys crowded into such tight quarters. 

“What’s been going on while we’ve been gone?” Rex inquired.

“Nothing much, except the Sergeant threatens us with prison every few minutes and then switches to begging! When he’s threatening he talks like we’re going to get the electric chair.  Then he starts pleading and ensures us that nothing will be done to us if we just come out voluntarily.” replied J. D.               

“Prison?” Jimmy said in horror. “They can’t put us in prison.  We’re too young.”

“Of course not” R. D. assured him.  But the real worry is whether they will follow through on the tear gas threat the Lieutenant made when he came back over here a few minutes ago.”

“What tear gas?” Rex demanded. 

R. D. then explained the Lieutenant had come over from the recruiting booth in the Commercial tent and said if we didn’t come out soon, they were going to tear gas us as soon as some arrived from the National Guard Armory downtown.  R. D. went on to add something that had obviously not occurred to the Sergeant or Lieutenant. “As soon as some of the people get here from the armory, they might also have somebody that knows enough about tanks to catch on to the bottom hatch.”    

That’s when Jimmy decided it was time to call this whole thing off.  They had now been in here for almost two hours and the fun was wearing off.   It was getting warmer by the minute it seemed since four of them were now sharing the space only two had occupied for the last short while. Also, aside from looking at the huge shells and other military stuff stored below and turning the turret, there just wasn’t much to do.  It was like they were now almost the prisoners. 

So, he suggested that they wait a few minutes for Hack and leave as soon as he came back.  Everybody agreed, except Dicky.  He said he was scared to leave.  They would get caught.  They finally told him that he could just stay by himself.  He appeared to be seriously considering that.  Jimmy, then added that if he did stay and the soldiers got any information out of him, they would take him to Patterson’s pond and throw him in and keep him from getting out for an hour with their BB rifles. Dicky was still not convinced. He had been in BB rifle fights alongside the gang and knew they were serious.

So, he replied “They won’t get nothing from me.” 

Jimmy then went on “ I wonder what type of nasty interrogation techniques those soldiers will use on you Dicky, to beat the information out of you?  I’ve heard that they sometimes take a knife and just cut off small pieces of flesh until people crack.”  At this Dicky quickly changed his mind.

Soon, Hack came back and stuck his head through the hatch, all excited.  “I just heard the Lieutenant say that the guys from in the Armory were in the parking lot and are on their way over.  The Lieutenant added that “Those little bastards will be in for a real surprise.”

Hack added” .They will probably be here in five minutes.  We’ve got to get out now.”

“We’re leaving” said Jimmy.  “Don’t even bother coming up here.”

One at a time, they slid down through the hatch. When the last one was out, Jimmy started to put the hatch plate back.  He couldn’t have locked it from outside but he could have slid it back in place.  “Never mind that” Hack insisted.  “Lets go!”

Jimmy noticed that all of the others were already gone.  As soon as he and Hack rejoined the group near the edge of the crowd, they all headed for the fairway and some “calmer rides”, like the roller coaster, octopus, double Ferris wheel and tilt-a-whirl.  None of the boys dared go back near the tank that day and even left the fair grounds that night by the back exit, just to be sure none of them was recognized.  They never dared to go back and see what happened to the tank.

That Saturday, Jimmy screwed up his courage enough to go back to the fair.  He knew that there was little chance of anyone connecting him to the caper.  After all, he had barely spoken to the Sergeant compared to the grilling Hack had given him and he was pretty sure he had gone through the episode completely unseen by anyone other than his friends.

Hack, on the other hand, brave as he was on most matters, was scared to show his face again because he would by far be the most recognizable to the Sergeant. 

Only Rex accompanied Jimmy, as he had also been invisible to the Sergeant.  They bravely marched straight up to the tank.

This time, however, the tank had a slightly different configuration.  Someone had welded a bar across the top of the hatch.  Jimmy suspected he would find the bottom hatch locked, but he did not dare go underneath to see.  There would never be another opportunity for a repeat of Wednesday’s grand performance. For the next several years, the tank was again a regular at the fair – – but always with the hatch welded shut.  The platform had been redesigned the next year to only allow visitors to get up high enough to see the turret.  No longer could people even get to the tank itself. 

Jimmy said to the gang after their visit the next year “We did them a favor.  Some stupid kids could really have gotten hurt on that thing.”