But at Sword, Juno, and Gold beaches, the crews remembered Straussler's lesson: Don't fight the sea. Borrow its skin. They launched closer to shore. The canvas screens billowed. The little propellers whirred. And out of the grey, choppy water, the tanks rose like prehistoric beasts crawling onto land.
The problem was beaches. Any invasion of Nazi-occupied Europe would require landing tanks directly onto shore. But landing craft couldn't get close enough without being blown out of the water. Tanks launched too far out simply sank like stones.
The design was rushed into production. The "DD"—standing for "Duplex Drive"—was born. But the true test was yet to come. On June 6, 1944, at 5:30 AM, off the coast of Normandy, the sea was brutal. Six-foot swells swallowed small craft whole. Many DD tanks, launched too far from shore in the chaos, were swamped and sunk. At Omaha Beach, nearly all of them were lost. dd tank origin
The War Office was skeptical. "Swimming tanks?" a general scoffed. "Next you'll want flying horses."
The first test was a disaster. The canvas ripped. The tank took on water. It sank to the bottom of the Hamble River like a dead beetle. But at Sword, Juno, and Gold beaches, the
Straussler, a naturalized British subject and a genius with mechanical things, had already made a name for himself with armored car designs. But this was different. He wasn't building a weapon. He was building a ghost.
The tank rolled into the water. For a sickening moment, it listed to the left. The crew inside felt the cold seep through the hull. But then, the canvas billowed out, the air pockets caught, and the tank leveled. The little twin propellers bit into the water. Chugging like a tugboat, the Valentine moved away from the shore. The canvas screens billowed
It worked.