‘All right men, about here’ll do.’
‘Get ready to unleash the seventeen-eyed monster, corporal.’
‘It’s a bridge, Sir’. ‘That’s right man. The Hun won’t know what’s hit him when we unleash the monster.’
‘It’s a bridge, Sir. It’s a folding bridge. You see, it unfolds, Sir.’
‘That’s right corporal. Now, send those men over on the back of the monster and we’ll be in Berlin by Wednesday week. Off you go men.’
‘Ha ha! You fools! You’re trapped…
…and we’re packing up…
…and going home. Don’t forget to feed the monster, corporal.’ ‘It’s a bridge, Sir. A bridge!’ ‘But it’s got thirty-four eyes, not seventeen, corp.’ ‘Shut up private. And don’t call me corp.’
Here’s another monster from early 1915. This is the Foster-Daimler Petrol Tractor with a Foster’s Automatic Portable Bridge attached.
It was known, apparently, as Tritton’s Trenchcrossing Machine.
I sincerely doubt it ever did. Cross any trenches, I mean. Other than this one.