A Day in the Life of a Tank Commander

Being a tank commander isn’t an easy job these days. In older times, knights were unrivalled on the battlefield, cutting down peasants until their arms ached. Up to World War 2, the squeaking sound of a Jagdpanther’s wheels would send entire infantry companies running. Today, however, tank commanders get less glory than daring raids by commandos, or covert strikes by fighter pilots. So if you’ve ever wondered, here’s a look into the life of a tank commander.

A tank commander deals with a lot of responsibility, especially in keeping his men safe. Everyday maintenance on the Leopard 2SG Main Battle Tank involves lifting and swinging steel parts ranging from 1 to 15 tons. Walking around the gigantic vehicle shed, I spend my mornings directing and supervising tank crews as they service their tanks, watching out for their wellbeing. Every tank operator knows someone who has broken a finger working on the tank.

Some may imagine tank commanders eating, sleeping and perhaps talking with their tanks. In reality, we spend a lot more time with our men. Afternoons are spent training, teaching or bonding with them. It’s a favourite saying that there is no best tank, only the best crew. As a 19 year old tank commander in charge of other 19 year old tank crewmen, the amount of trust they put in you is truly humbling. Some even come from your high school. Earning and keeping their respect is difficult. Especially during our first overseas exercise in the Northern Australian deserts.

“Come on guys, let's clean this tank, then we can sleep.”

It was 2am and my tank crew had just returned from a hard day’s fight. The fatigue and ennui were obvious in their eyes as they dismounted.

“Can’t we clean it tomorrow, Sergeant?”

They looked at me with imploring eyes, longing for the light and warmth of the tents on the starry hill. I had every right to punish them, there and then, as their tank commander.

“You guys go rest. I’ll clean it myself.”  I turned and walked straight to the mud coated tank. They watched me go with astonished eyes.

I fought exhaustion as I scraped the dried, hardened mud off the engine air intakes. Every tank operator takes greatest pride in his tank because one day it will save his life, much like a soldier cleaning his rifle. If I couldn't teach my men that, I didn't deserve to lead them. Suddenly, I heard hurried footsteps approaching. It was my crew; they had gathered more people to help. My apologetically smiling gunner had a hot milo in his outstretched hand. Wordlessly, they got to work cleaning the tank. I stood aside and watched them, humbled by their actions.

Being a tank commander isn't about the glory. It’s about having pride in your tank, and a special bond with your crew. That night, I learned that command does not come with rank; it is earned when your men recognise you as their commander, whatever your age.