The Pershing and the Panther
On March 6, 1945, Sergeant Bob Earley’s tank was idling at an intersection in Cologne, Germany. Ahead of him was the Cologne Cathedral — the great prize of one of the last German cities still standing in World War II. The commander of a T26E3 Pershing named Eagle 7, Earley did not know that he and the other four members of his crew were on the verge of being immortalized in history. Huddled below him in the driver’s hatch was Woody McVeigh.
Next to McVeigh in the hull was radio operator Homer “Smokey” Davis wearing his trademark knit tankers hood. Up in the turret with Earley was loader John “Johnny Boy” DeRiggi and the 21-year-old gunner, Clarence Smoyer. DeRiggi was to the left of Earley standing out of his own hatch. Earlier in the war, DeRiggi had traded for a French tanker's helmet and it made him an instantly recognizable figure. The crew had been fighting together since September of 1944.
The vehicle they called home was the United States (US) Army’s newest tank. After years of complaints from American tankers about the M4 Sherman’s deficiencies as a fighting vehicle, the US Army finally had a tool that could match the Germans. Sergeant Earley was one of the lucky few. His Pershing was one of 20 that had been shipped to Europe for combat trials. The price he and his crew paid for having the best gear was that they were expected to lead his unit into the heart of Cologne. But a regrettable confrontation at an intersection blocks away from the Cathedral had halted the column. Earley could only look on as a trio of medics desperately attempted to save a pair of German civilians who had been caught in a crossfire between Eagle 7 and a German Panzer IV.
With the Pershing stalled, the main effort fell to the Shermans of Fox Company on a parallel street. Leading this column was Karl Kellner and his crew. A resident of Sheboygan, Wisconsin, the bespectacled Kellner had recently received a field promotion to Second Lieutenant. However, Kellner was not new to the battlefield. He had already been wounded twice and awarded the Silver Star for valor in Normandy. He was well prepared to lead his platoon to the Cathedral. But he was not alone.
Along with the accompanying infantry was a group of reporters and photographers. They were holding close to the front lines, eager to catch stories about the fall of Cologne. Among them was Jim Bates, a resident of Colorado Springs and cameraman for the Alexander Film Company before the war. Bates was about to capture the first — and possibly most famous — tank duel ever caught on film.
Ahead of Kellner was the Komodienstrasse. Running East to West, this street ran directly between the Cathedral’s Square and the train station next to it. As he began his move down the street, Kellner was unaware that a German Panther was lying in ambush near the train station. The crew of Second Lieutenant Wilhelm Bartelborth’s Panther was prepared to fight to the end. The Hohenzollernbrucke Bridge was destroyed behind them. Its premature demolition had left them with their backs to the Rhine and a grim sense of determination. They had the perfect vehicle for a fight. The Panther outclassed the Sherman in virtually every category. Along with its feline cousin the Tiger, Panthers had been terrorizing Allied tank crews since Normandy.
Kellner’s movement was initially uneventful. However, just past the intersection of Komodienstrasse and Andreaskloster, on the East side of the Dominican Church of St. Andrews, was a pile of rubble the Shermans could not clear or bypass. They had to wait for a dozer. With the Shermans canalized on a narrow street, Bartelborth sprung his trap. Two of the Panther’s 75mm shells tore into the turret of Kellner’s Sherman in quick succession. A third smashed the tracks of the Sherman behind Kellner as it tried to back into cover.
The first shells immediately killed Kellner’s gunner and driver while taking his left leg. The cameras were rolling as Kellner rolled off the back of his Sherman, the stump of his left leg clearly seen smoking. A journalist, some tankers, and a medic rushed to Kellner’s aid. But it was no use. He would die two hours later in a shell crater, aged 26. Of his five-man crew, only Kellner’s loader and bow gunner would survive.
Down the road, the squeal of tracks could be heard as the Panther crept forward from its position.
One street to the North and a quarter-mile behind, Earley heard the chatter on the radio but was not sure of what had happened. Not until Jim Bates climbed onto his turret and told him that a Panther was in the Cathedral Square. Unsure of where the Panther was, Bates and Earley walked down the street until they could duck into the German Labor Front building. From there they could see south down the Marzellenstrasse into the Cathedral Square. They were staring at the side of the Panther. It had moved forward, but its barrel was still oriented down the Komodienstrasse.
Earley saw an opportunity and slipped back to his tank. Jim Bates set up his camera. The mighty Panther was about to meet its match.
Earley and Eagle 7 moved out from under the shadow of the Commerzbank towards the Panther. With the Panther distracted, it was supposed to be an easy kill. But Bartelborth was an experienced tank commander and his sixth sense went off. He slewed his turret over the right side of the hull. Up in the German Labor Front building, Jim Bates panicked. The Panther was looking right at where the Pershing would round the corner. Helpless, all he could do was roll the camera.
Smokey’s heart dropped as Eagle 7 edged into the intersection. Sitting on the front right side of the vehicle, Smokey was the first to see the Panther. He was the first to look down its barrel. Smoyer still had not turned the turret far enough as they cleared the corner. He was not on target yet. The Panther, pre-aimed and still, had all the advantages. But it did not fire. Bartelborth hesitated. He had never seen nor heard of a Pershing. Believing it to be German, he told his gunner to hold fire. Smoyer had no such inclination. As soon as he saw center mass, he pulled the trigger. DeRiggi immediately slammed another shell into the breech. And then a third.
Bates’ camera rolled on. Though rocked by the concussions from the Pershing’s 90mm cannon, the footage clearly captures each of the three impacts. With the first hit, Bartelborth and three other crew members can be seen, one with clothes aflame, evacuating the vehicle. They successfully flee in a hail of tracers from the infantry who had crept up with Eagle 7. But the gunner positioned deeper in the turret, is not so lucky. He is visibly clawing his way out of the commander’s hatch as the second round hits the turret ring. Dead, he slips back into the turret to be consumed by the flames. Smoyer’s third shot seals the engagement.
Now a raging inferno, bright flames tower from the Panther’s hatches, and the penetration holes glow like angry, fatal wounds. Jim Bates pans out and captures the spires of the Cathedral towering above the Panther. Bob Earley and the men of Eagle 7 can wipe their brows and tame their racing hearts. The battle for Cologne is over.
