Going Down with the Ship... or the Tank!

cover art by Joe Kubert

As a writer, Robert Kanigher was more concerned with telling great individual stories than he was with maintaining continuity in a particular series. This is especially true with the World War II-themed comics he wrote, in which the action from issue to issue jumped haphazardly from one point in the war to another without any concern over whether the stories could be logically strung together in a way that matched real-life history. As long as a story told on its own was good, then Kanigher went with it.

This is especially true in his Haunted Tank series. Every once in a while, a story would refer back to Lt. Jeb Stuart's childhood. In fact, I can think of at least four stories (including this one) in which he does this. But every single time, poor Jeb's childhood seems to have changed. In one story, he grew up in the South with the other members of the tank crew. In another, he met them for the first time when he took command of the tank and had to fist-fight each of them in turn to get them to accept a Darned Yankee as their C.O.

In G.I. Combat #136 (June-July 1969), we find out that Jeb's dad died in the First World War, giving his life rather than retreating from his post. Gee whiz, young Jeb had a confusing childhood.

The art in this issue, by the way, is mostly by Ross Andru. At least three pages, though, were drawn by Joe Kubert because of deadline issues.

As you can see from the panels above, Jeb is being paralleled to a young German named Ludwig von Ernst, who also lost his dad in the Great War. Notice the difference, though. Both fathers died rather than surrender or abandon their post. Ludwig, though, is being taught that this was his dad's responsibility, with the implicit lesson that he needs to do the same should a similar situation arise.

Jeb, on the other hand, is told by his mother that she hopes he'll never have to make that choice. She doesn't denigrate her husband's sacrifice or dismiss her bravery, but she understandably hopes that her son will never have to choose to die.

Jeb readily admits that he doesn't know what choice he would make, while Ludwig is certain he'll stand by his post even unto death.

Well, to the surprise of actually no one, the two men meet during World War II. Jeb now commands a tank (conveniently haunted by his Civil War namesake), while Ludwig has followed directly in his dad's footprints, commanding a U-boat.

When Ludwig brings his sub alongside a dock in a bombed out town to make repairs, he has an unlikely encounter with Jeb's tank.

Jeb ends up ramming the sub's conning tower, causing both vessels to sink. Ludwig, as he always claimed he would, goes down with his boat. Jeb and his crew jump free from the sinking tank and survive.

So Jeb's internal question--would he stay and die if necessary--goes unanswered. For Ludwig, that question has been answered.

The story, though, arguably has a deeper theme that Kanigher may not have consciously intended. Jeb and his crew abandon the tank rather than drown. Because of this, they live to fight another day. After all, a tank is easier to replace than trained men. 

Ludwig, on the other hand, consciously chooses to die. The story isn't clear, though, on whether he could have gotten out of the sub in time. If so, was staying and dying a useless sacrifice? As long as his crew was out, was there any reason for him to stay? Unlike Jeb, Ludwig does not live to fight another day. He's no longer available to serve his country.

Self-sacrifice to save others or do one's duty is admirable and heroic, but if someone sacrifices himself unnecessarily--doing so simply because he was taught to do so in his youth... well, is that misplaced courage? That Ludwig was incredibly brave is undeniable, but does bravery without wisdom accomplish anything?

That's it for this week. Next week, it's Green Arrow vs. dinosaurs. I know I reviewed a dinosaur-themed story last week, but on my blog, there is no such thing as too many dinosaurs.