I stared at the blank empty space with mounting disappointment. All that looked back at me from the concrete floor were a few greasy marks and oil drops, the only evidence of what I hoped to see had once occupied the space. To be fair when we entered the museum the man at the front desk told us that one of the exhibits was not there because they were getting it ready for an event in a couple of day. Just my luck I thought to turn up on this week. It’s not like there weren’t plenty of other exhibits to see, there were; over three hundred, but this was the one I wanted to see above all the others.
I remember going to Disneyland a few years ago, and of all the rides I looked forward to, Splash Mountain was number one. I told the kids how much fun it was, sitting in a hollowed log falling down into the pool below with the “splash.” We saved it for last. We rode Thunder Mountain railroad, Pirates of the Caribbean, Indiana Jones, and others before heading to Splash Mountain. My anticipation was high, but as we neared the mountain, I noticed it was strangely quiet and when we got to the entrance there was a chain across the opening with a sign attached; “closed for renovation.” Again, my hollowed-out anticipation slid down into a puddle of disappointment. It was a Griswold moment, and although we had a great time, when I think of this trip what sticks in my memory is the empty space of where Splash Mountain should have been.
Sherman
What should have been in this space was a tank. A Sherman tank to be precise. Now you might be wondering why I should be so disappointed not to see a Sherman tank, after all there are still quite a few left of the nearly 50,000 produced during the second world war. I have seen several over the years, I even watched one being retrieved from the sea, but the one which was supposed to fill this empty space was a “Fury.” Actually, it wasn’t just a “Fury,” that is an M4A2E8[1] which was an upgraded Sherman. The Fury had better (easy eight) suspension, a longer 76mm gun and was produced towards the end of the war in December 1944. No, this tank was “the Fury” Sherman as seen in the film with the same name commanded by Brad Pitt riding around a top of it.
My friend and I toured the rest of the museum which took us some considerable time. Who knew there were so many different kinds of tank? We started with “Little Willie,” the first working tank in the world ever made in 1915 and made our way through them all to the latest and greatest.
“Little Willie,” the first tank
After several hours we both felt a bit “tanked out” and in need of a break and so we headed for the cafeteria. I munched on a pasty gazing out of a window. Directly outside there was a rough patch of ground with a track and obstacles where from time to time they run and demonstrate tanks. Beyond that there was some more buildings with a concrete apron and standing on it was Fury.
We finished our lunch and headed outside, on our tour map it said these buildings were open to go inside, but when we got to the gate it said it was temporarily closed, however a couple were coming out who looked like visitors so we ignored the sign and went in. We walked up to Fury and were taking some photos when a security guard appeared and asked politely if she could help us? “No thank you, we are fine.” “Actually, you are not supposed to be in here, it is usually open, but today it is closed as we prepare for the event this weekend.” Reluctantly we left as she escorted us to the gate, but I had seen what I wanted to see.
Fury
We were about to return to the main building when we heard clanking and another tank hove into view. It drove out onto the track, and then the engine sputtered and died. “Ha, they probably forgot to put petrol in it.” I turned to see where the voice came from. A man in a blue nylon coat was standing a few feet away from us intently watching the proceedings. He seemed to be revelling in the tank’s loss of momentum. “Typical of this lot, they always leave it to the last minute to check everything works.” Again, it wasn’t said with disappointment or frustration, but with glee. Odd I thought, most people come here because they want to see tanks work, but this bloke seems to want to see them fail. Whose side is he on? It began to drizzle, and the man sidled over to engage us in further conversation although mostly it fell one way. It turned out he was very knowledgeable about the museum’s tanks as he had worked there for many years but was now retired. He lived just up the road and often walked down to the museum to see what was going on. As I listened, I couldn’t help but wonder why he was standing on the outside of the fence with us looking in? It seemed a bit incongruous; surely even though he was retired he would still retain enough status to get him past fences and security guards. There must be more to the story. There was. It seems part of his job had been taking pictures for promotional material, and he had an onsite darkroom to develop the photos. But a new boss arrived who thought he should consign his film to the bin and embrace the digital world. However, it seems our acquaintance wanted no part of Lightroom and after some resistance there was an acrimonious parting of ways, at least for his part, and I got the distinct impression his “retirement” was rather more forced than invited. A man walked past with a camera strung around his neck, carrying a tripod and another bag which was also clearly photography related. One of those large plastic photo ID cards hung from around his neck on a red cord, and when he reached the gate, the security guard who was still hovering nearby, gave him a cheerful greeting and ushered him in. Undoubtedly the blue coated man’s replacement. He never offered his predecessor as much as sideways glance, it was if he had been photoshopped out.
So here he was, left on the outside looking in hoping for any kind of failure to occur from which he could derive some slight enjoyment and maybe even a slice of vindication.
He reminded me of another man who stood on the outside looking on thousands of years before there were tanks or indeed any sort of mechanised vehicles. He also burned with bitterness and resentment on the inside, although on the outside it would have been hard to tell. He was a prophet who one day was commissioned by God to go to a city and tell them to change their ways before it was too late. You would think this assignment would make a prophet happy, after all that’s what prophets are supposed to do, but when God looked to see how His prophet was getting on there wasn’t even a trace of where he was supposed to be; just an empty space. The prophet wasn’t just reluctant, he was in open refusal and had actually legged it as fast as he could to the coast where he jumped on a ship heading in the opposite direction. But God did give this prophet early retirement and find a replacement? No, He was going to bring back His errant servant. Jonah was about to get the ride of his life! There was a fair breeze as the ship sailed away from Joppa’s harbour, and Jonah, relieved to be on his way went below deck to sleep. They hadn’t gone far when the wind picked up and was soon howling with fury engulfing them in an enormous sea. Despite their best efforts the sailors could see they were doomed without some kind of divine intervention. Jonah was discovered still sleeping in the midst of the storm, so the sailors roused him to cry out to his God. In a final attempt to stave off disaster they drew lots to ascertain who was responsible for their predicament and it pointed to Jonah. Jonah confessed it was his fault, he “worshiped the God who made the sea and dry land,” a tacit admission he knew he was on a fool’s errand trying to escape God.
We stood in the rain with the man, he had his blue nylon coat, but we didn’t have any rain protection, but despite us getting wet we didn’t want to abandon him. The crew did their best to keep Jonah on board, but in the end in the face of certain death if they hung onto him, they acquiesced to his remedy and threw him over the side. Just as Jonah predicted, immediately the fury of the sea abated, and they offered sacrifices to this God who cannot be escaped.
But it was not curtains for Jonah, God had not gone to all this trouble to kill him, but rather to save him, to help him see something about God and himself. As Jonah sank deep in the sea his downward trajectory was halted by the interception of a great fish sent by God to save him. Jonah spent three days in this underwater refuge and appeared to change his mind as he praised the Lord for saving him. But appearances can be deceiving, although not to God.
The fish vomited the prophet back on dry land, and again Jonah was told to go to Nineveh and deliver the message God told him. This time Jonah went straight to the city, he did not deviate or delay for a second. It took him three days to get the message out to all the city, and when he was finished, he went and camped outside of the city on the east and waited. But for what? What did he hope was going to happen?
The crew of the halted tank’s efforts to restart the engine were met with success evidenced by a cloud of smoke. The tank rumbled away down onto the track. It was a Churchill, I think. The blue coated man’s brief moment of enjoyment had been dashed by its release.
I expect Jonah enjoyed proclaiming God’s message of immanent destruction on Nineveh, and as long as they remained stationary, he was glad. It’s seems discordant for any preacher not wanting their message to be heard, but fortunately mobilisation is about the message and not the messenger. The message from God was all the fuel the people of Nineveh from the top down needed to hear to fire up their engine of repentance and move to change their ways. What Jonah feared would be the outcome happened and Nineveh was delivered from God’s fury as he later told God;
“O Lord, is not this what I said when I was yet in my country? That is why I made haste to flee to Tarshish; for I knew that you are a gracious God and merciful, slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love, and relenting from disaster.
Jonah 4:2 (ESV)
But why did Jonah feel this way?
There is another famous tank at this museum which was also used in the Fury film, and it is the “Tiger 131,”[2] the only working Tiger tank left in the world today. There were only 1,354 of these produced by Nazi Germany, but despite the far fewer numbers it is possibly the most famous tank of the war. A legend. The Tiger was feared by the allies because its thick front armour was impenetrable and its 88mm gun could pierce the armour of their tanks up to 1,000 metres away, so consequently the mere mention of its name never mind the actual sight of it bought terror to anyone in its path.
Tiger!
The Ninevites bought terror to Israel in Jonah’s time even though they didn’t have a single Tiger or any other tank. They were loathed and feared just as much as Nazi Germany for the pain and suffering they inflicted on their neighbours and especially Israel. Here was a chance for Jonah to see this enemy obliterated; who wouldn’t want to see that? I know I have felt relish when someone who has hurt me deeply has been faced with catastrophe. Go on God, pull the trigger, unleash your fury, (and mine) and penetrate their seemingly impervious armour and leave a blank empty space where they once stood so arrogantly. No wonder Jonah was upset when God took His finger off the firing button, and what should have been a great memory for him wasn’t. Jonah was furious, so angry he wanted to die, and he burned even hotter when the plant God had provided for him as shade withered away leaving him defenceless under the scorching sun. God asked Jonah “
“Do you do well to be angry for the plant?” And he said, “Yes, I do well to be angry, angry enough to die.”
Jonah 4:9 (ESV)
The Tiger tank despite its “legendary status” was not all that it was cracked up to be. It was very expensive to build and over engineered making it complicated to operate. It was also extremely heavy which made it hard to transport, and it broke down often and consequently many of them spent the war out of action.
It’s easy to view myself as the stuff of legends, and others as far less, but God sees behind our armour and we are all equally flawed, but rather than turning His fury on us God offers us His grace. It turns out God doesn’t like seeing empty spaces either, not even when we have turned our guns on Him.
We left the man standing in the rain, how long he remained hoping for further disaster to strike I don’t know. Did Jonah ever leave his fury behind? Again, I don’t know. But what about me? What about my fury and the empty spaces I wish God would leave? Am I willing to leave those behind and embrace the grace He wills to show others, even those who have hurt me, and I can “justify” my fury against?
{$NOTE_LABEL} https://tankmuseum.org/tank-nuts/tank-collection/m4-sherman-fury
{$NOTE_LABEL} https://tankmuseum.org/tank-nuts/tank-collection/tiger-i
