Germans Couldn’t Believe How This Tanker Left His Sherman — Until He Killed 300 of Them
At 0945 on November 10th, 1944, Sergeant Warren Cressy crouched inside his M4 Sherman tank north of Morville, France, watching German muzzle flashes through the narrow vision slit as his battalion pushed deeper into enemy territory. 21 years old, 3 days of combat, zero margin for error. The 761st Tank Battalion had already lost 24 men killed and 14 tanks destroyed in 72 hours of fighting, and German anti-tank guns had positioned themselves in every treeline and behind every stone wall between Morville and the next objective.
Cressy commanded a five-man crew in Dog Company, the first African-American armored unit to see combat in the European theater. The army had kept his battalion training for 2 years at Camp Hood, Texas, while white tank units shipped overseas after 3 months. Military leadership had doubted whether black soldiers could handle the technical demands of armored warfare, whether they could think fast enough under fire, and whether they would break when German 88mm guns started punching through American steel.
The 761st had landed at Omaha Beach on October 10th, and General Patton himself had addressed them before their first mission. The Black Panthers, as they called themselves, carried a simple motto on their unit patch: come out fighting. And for the past 72 hours, that is exactly what they had done. But the Sherman tank had a fatal weakness that every American tanker knew, because German anti-tank guns could penetrate its armor at ranges beyond 1,000 yards while the Sherman’s own 75mm gun needed to close within 500 yards to have any chance against German armor.
This meant American tank crews had to advance into kill zones where the enemy could see them, track them, and destroy them long before they could effectively return fire. Cressy’s driver, Corporal Harry Tyrie, had told other crews that his tank commander was two different people. Off the battlefield, Cressy was quiet, polite, and almost meek behind his horn-rimmed glasses, but in combat, something changed completely. Tyrie had watched Cressy ride exposed on top of the Sherman, firing the turret-mounted 50 caliber machine gun at German positions while bullets ricocheted off the hull around him.
Battalion officers had reprimanded Cressy twice for reckless conduct, though they never punished him because the 761st needed men who would push forward when every tactical manual said to pull back. The first three days of combat had killed Roy King, the sergeant who led the initial assault into Morville, and Staff Sergeant Ruben Rivers had refused medical evacuation after a mine blew shrapnel through his leg before dying 12 days into the campaign. The battalion’s white company commanders had been killed or wounded, leaving African-American officers to lead the advance and prove themselves in the only language the army truly understood.
Combat effectiveness, territory captured, and enemy killed were the ultimate metrics, and the Sherman’s armor was only 51 mm thick at the front hull and 38 mm on the sides. German Panzerfaust rockets could punch through both at close range, while German 88mm guns could penetrate the Sherman from any angle at any combat distance. American tankers had developed dark humor about their vehicles, calling them rons after the cigarette lighter because they lit up first time, every time. Cressy understood the mathematics clearly, knowing the 761st had started with 54 tanks and only 40 remained operational after 72 hours.
The battalion would run out of Shermans before it ran out of objectives, leaving only the question of which crews would still be alive when the ammunition ran dry. The mission for November 10th was straightforward on paper: push north through the woods outside Morville, support the 26th Infantry Division’s advance, and clear German positions. The reality on the ground was far messier, as German forces had established overlapping fields of fire with machine gun nests covering approach routes, anti-tank guns waiting in concealment, and artillery observers calling down fire on any American vehicle that moved.
His Sherman rolled forward at 0950, following two other tanks through a gap in the treeline while Tyrie kept the speed steady at 8 mph, which was fast enough to make targeting difficult and slow enough to spot threats. The infantry followed 50 yards behind, using the Shermans as moving cover until German machine gun fire raked across the lead tank at 0953. Cressy tracked the muzzle flashes to a position 70 yards northeast, swung the turret, and fired three rounds of high explosive to silence the machine gun permanently.
At 0955, something hit the right side of Cressy’s Sherman with enough force to throw him against the turret wall with a sound like a hammer striking an anvil. The tank kept moving as Tyrie called out the damage report indicating the hull was intact, the track was operational, and the engine temperature was rising but manageable. Then at 0957, the second impact came from a different angle and punched straight through, filling the interior with smoke and the burning smell of propellant while the gunner screamed and the loader tried to reach the escape hatch.
Cressy made the calculation every tank commander dreads, having to choose between staying inside to burn or bailing out straight into German machine gun fire. He grabbed the turret rim, pulled himself up through the commander’s hatch, and saw the German anti-tank position 40 yards away that had just destroyed his vehicle while reloading for another shot at the remaining American tanks. Cressy landed on the ground beside his burning Sherman at 0958, noticing the German crew was completely focused on the second American tank in the column 60 yards behind.
An American halftrack sat 30 yards to Cressy’s left, partially concealed behind a stone wall and carrying a Browning M1919A4 30 caliber machine gun mounted on a pintle. Cressy ran toward it while German small arms fire kicked up dirt around his boots, reached the vehicle in 8 seconds, grabbed the handles, and swung the barrel toward the anti-tank position. The 30 caliber fired at 400 to 500 rounds per minute, and against the German gun crew at 40 yards, it was devastatingly effective as Cressy held the trigger down and walked the rounds across the position until it went silent.
German artillery observers in a church tower 200 yards northwest were directing mortars onto the infantry, so Cressy turned the 30 caliber toward the tower and fired in controlled bursts until the artillery fire stopped completely. By 1015, the immediate threat was neutralized and Cressy’s crew had evacuated safely with only minor injuries, needing a replacement vehicle since the forward position required every operational tank it could field. The replacement Sherman arrived at 1040, featuring the same model, 75mm main gun, armor thickness, and vulnerabilities, but equipped with fresh fuel, ammunition, and an operational engine.
Mounting up, Cressy’s crew rejoined the advance at 1100 hours to continue pushing north through dense woods that limited visibility to 50 yards in most directions. Stone walls and farm buildings provided cover for German anti-tank teams, and the soft ground from recent rain severely limited mobility as Dog Company pushed forward with four other tanks. German resistance followed a familiar pattern of machine gun fire to pin American positions, mortar fire to inflict casualties, anti-tank weapons to destroy vehicles, and a tactical withdrawal to the next defensive position.
By 1400 hours, the battalion had advanced 800 yards, destroyed three German machine gun nests and two mortar positions, and cleared five buildings at the cost of two more damaged Shermans and 11 infantry casualties. At 1520, an infantry lieutenant from the 26th division flagged down Cressy’s tank to reach higher ground 400 yards ahead, climbing onto the hull as Tyrie kept the speed at 6 mph through dense woods and moderate slopes. Breaking through the treeline near the summit at 1535, German machine gun fire opened up from 70 yards ahead, prompting Cressy to order a reverse into the woods.
Tyrie backed the Sherman straight into a snow-concealed anti-tank ditch, tilting the rear upward at a 40-degree angle and exposing the vulnerable underside hull and engine compartment with its meager 13 mm of armor protection. Cressy ducked inside the turret to radio for assistance, and another Sherman from Dog Company responded, drawing intense German machine gun fire that also pinned down the accompanying infantry. Climbing out of the hatch under fire at 1540, Cressy ran to the rescue tank, grabbed a tow cable, attached it to the front hook of his disabled vehicle in 90 seconds, and watched the rescue tank pull his Sherman out at 1542.
An armor-piercing round struck the right side of the hull and bounced off without penetrating, but the Sherman wouldn’t budge when Tyrie tried to move it back into the treeline because something in the suspension had broken during extraction. Seeing German machine gun fire pinning down the infantry unit in open ground with no cover, Cressy climbed out of the turret for the second time that day and positioned himself behind the 50 caliber Browning M2HB machine gun. Firing in sustained bursts of 20 to 30 rounds, Cressy provided vital covering fire that allowed all 11 trapped American soldiers to successfully withdraw to friendly lines by 1555.
Emergency repairs by Tyrie and the crew revealed that the right track had thrown two connecting pins during the extraction, requiring 15 minutes of stationary work while German forces repositioned. At 1600 hours, German machine gun fire resumed from new positions with better angles, prompting Cressy to return fire with the 50 caliber while the infantry worked their way forward to flank the enemy. Emergency repairs were completed at 1618, but when Tyrie engaged the transmission, the Sherman lurched forward 3 feet and stopped because the left final drive had cracked, leaving the tank permanently immobilized without major repairs.
German infantry launched a counterattack at 1630 from the northeast, with approximately 40 soldiers moving in squad formations to overrun the American positions and recapture the morning’s gains. Cressy climbed back onto the immobilized Sherman, swung the 50 caliber toward the advancing enemy, and opened fire to tear through the treeline and halt the assault line. American 105 mm howitzers from 2 miles south began ranging shots at 1645, adjusting fire onto the main German force while Cressy suppressed a new anti-tank team moving into position 300 yards east.
The situation stabilized by 1700 hours as the counterattack broke apart under artillery and machine gun fire, and a recovery vehicle arrived at 1720 to tow the disabled Sherman back to the maintenance area. This marked the second Sherman destroyed under Cressy’s command in 7 hours, yet both times he had survived and continued fighting outside the protection of armored steel. The afteraction report noted that Dog Company had advanced 1,200 yards under heavy resistance, destroying eight machine gun positions and two anti-tank guns while Cressy repeatedly engaged enemy forces with crew-served weapons to save friendly lives.
The quiet sergeant with horn-rimmed glasses had earned deep respect across the battalion, with soldiers beginning to call him the Iron Man or the baddest man in the 761st, recognizing him as the most dangerous man the Germans would face in those French woods. November 11th, 1944 started at 0600 hours with orders to continue the advance north toward Viviers after spending the night in defensive positions around Morville performing emergency maintenance under blackout conditions. Warren Cressy received his third Sherman tank at 0630, featuring the standard 75mm main gun, 51 mm of frontal armor, and a 33-ton combat weight operated by his same surviving crew.
The mission briefing at 0700 outlined that German forces had reinforced their positions overnight with at least two infantry companies and anti-tank support across open farmland turned to thick mud by weeks of rain. Dog Company moved out at 0730 with six operational Shermans in two columns, advancing 800 yards without contact before German machine gun fire opened up at Viviers from a wood line 400 yards ahead. At 0840, Cressy’s Sherman reached a plowed root vegetable field where recent rain transformed the soil into thick mud, causing the tracks to slip and bog the 33-ton tank down completely at 0843.
Tyrie tried reversing and moving forward, but the tank only settled deeper into the mud while German machine gun fire sparked off the turret and hull from 300 yards away. Cressy climbed out of the commander’s hatch at 0845 to assess the situation, noting the tracks were swallowed up to the road wheels and artillery rounds would soon begin landing on the stationary target. German artillery opened up at 0850 with 88 mm shells landing 200 yards north as spotters ranged in, prompting Cressy to radio for a rescue tank that arrived promptly at 0900.
Working under intense machine gun fire, Cressy and the crew helped connect tow cables by 0905, but the rescue tank’s tracks began slipping because the ground could not support the pulling force needed to extract 33 tons of bogged armor. Dismounting at 0910, Cressy and his crew began digging mud away from the tracks by hand using entrenching tools while continuous machine gun rounds impacted all around them. Looking east at 0920, Cressy saw American infantry from the 26th Division advancing past the bogged Sherman and taking heavy fire from German positions, becoming pinned down in the open farmland with minimal protection.
Deciding that no more Americans were going to die while he had ammunition left to fire, Cressy stopped digging, climbed back onto his Sherman, grabbed the 50 caliber machine gun, and opened fire on every German position he could identify. The 50 caliber Browning M2HB held approximately 400 rounds in its box, cycling at 550 rounds per minute in sustained fire to give Cressy roughly 45 seconds of continuous firing time before needing a reload. Elevating the weapon 3 degrees, Cressy fired a 20-round burst at a German machine gun position 280 yards east behind a stone wall, silencing it immediately.
He then traversed right to engage a second position 310 yards northeast in a drainage ditch, and adjusted elevation to target a third position on a small rise at 350 yards that provided excellent fields of fire. American infantry began advancing again at 0925, using the covering fire from Cressy’s position to close with German defenses as mortar fire began impacting 50 yards north around the Sherman at 0930. Cressy kept firing through the heating barrel, taking a shrapnel hit to his left shoulder from a mortar round that landed 15 yards away at 0934 without slowing him down.
Running out of ammunition at 0940, Cressy dropped into the turret, received a fresh ammunition box from the loader, reconnected the belt, and was back in action by 0942 to suppress a mortar crew firing from 400 yards north-northeast. The mortar fire stopped at 0950, allowing American infantry to flank remaining machine gun positions and collapse the German defensive line by 1000 hours, though Cressy’s Sherman remained firmly bogged in the mud. German artillery opened up at 1015 with heavy 105 millimeter guns landing 200 yards west and walking their fire closer toward the disabled Sherman with every salvo.
At 1020, three German soldiers carrying a Panzerschreck anti-tank weapon moved into position 500 yards northeast, prompting Cressy to swing the 50 caliber and fire long bursts at extreme range to drive them to ground. The crew cleared enough mud by 1025 for the rescue tank to engage its transmission and pull Cressy’s Sherman 6 inches, then a foot, until it finally broke free and reversed onto firmer ground. However, the battle was far from over as more German infantry formed up in the northern treeline at 1032, consisting of 150 to 200 soldiers in three groups preparing for a coordinated counterattack against the exposed American infantry.
Tyrie positioned the Sherman to provide flanking fire while Cressy remained exposed on the turret with the 50 caliber, opening fire at 1035 on the lead German group at 300 yards to shatter their formation. German machine gun fire raked across the Sherman as Cressy stayed exposed, knowing that taking cover meant American deaths while staying exposed gave him a chance to save his comrades. The German advance closed to 250 yards by 1040, threatening to overrun the American infantry with grenades and bayonets unless immediate support arrived.
Cressy worked the 50 caliber like a fire hose, shifting fire between the second and third German groups until American 105mm howitzers finally delivered artillery support at 1045 to drop high explosive shells directly into the advancing enemy treeline. A portion of the German force reached within 75 yards of American positions by 1055, engaging in intense point-blank combat where Cressy elevated his machine gun to fire over friendly lines and drop rounds directly into the assault force until no one was left to advance. The counterattack was completely broken by 1100 hours with German survivors retreating into the northern woods, leaving American casualties at seven killed and fourteen wounded—numbers that would have been catastrophically higher without Cressy’s covering fire.
The 761st Tank Battalion resumed its advance toward Viviers at 1130, with Cressy’s Sherman taking its proper place in the formation despite the grueling hours of combat already endured. At 1300 hours, Dog Company received new orders to lead an assault on a heavily fortified German strong point located in a cluster of farm buildings 3 kilometers northeast, defended by multiple machine gun positions, anti-tank guns, and unknown infantry support. Moving into assault positions at 1400 hours with six Shermans and supporting infantry, preliminary artillery bombardment pounded the farm buildings before lifting at 1415 to let Cressy’s Sherman lead the left column forward across 400 yards of open ground.
German anti-tank fire opened up at 500 yards, and by 450 yards, an 88mm round catastrophically penetrated a Sherman in the second column, detonating its ammunition storage and killing the entire crew instantly. Continuing the advance at 400 yards, Cressy identified the anti-tank gun firing from a stone barn opening, ordered his gunner to target the position, and watched a 75mm high explosive shell shatter the stone wall to silence the gun. German machine gun fire intensified at 350 yards, prompting Cressy to grab the 50 caliber and return fire with an overheated barrel while a second anti-tank gun engaged from behind a stone wall at 300 yards.
The second anti-tank gun fired a round that passed between Cressy’s tank and the Sherman to his right, but Cressy’s gunner returned fire with a 75mm shell that collapsed the stone wall and buried the anti-tank crew in rubble. Reaching 150 yards at 1432, Cressy’s Sherman took a direct hit from a Panzerfaust rocket on the right side of the hull that filled the interior with smoke and wounded the loader and gunner, but the engine kept running and Tyrie kept driving forward because stopping meant certain death. The Shermans overran the German strong point within 29 minutes, securing the objective by taking 17 infantry casualties and destroying one tank while capturing the surviving defenders at 1440.
Cressy’s crew was evacuated for medical treatment of their shrapnel and burn wounds, but Cressy refused evacuation despite having minor shrapnel wounds in his shoulder and leg, remaining on the battlefield to continue the fight. At 1500 hours, the battalion commander arrived at Dog Company’s position after monitoring radio traffic all day, having heard reports of Cressy engaging enemy forces while exposed on a disabled tank, breaking up a company-strength counterattack, and leading the assault on a fortified strong point. Recognizing that Warren Cressy was unlike any soldier he had ever seen, the commander processed a battlefield commission that very afternoon, promoting Sergeant Warren Cressy to Second Lieutenant effective November 11th, 1944, within a record-breaking 6 hours.
The 761st Tank Battalion continued fighting for 172 more days after November 11th, pushing through France and Germany, participating in the freezing conditions of the Battle of the Bulge in December, breaching the Siegfried Line in March 1945, and finally reaching Austria to link up with Soviet forces at the Enns River on May 5th, 1945. Warren Cressy fought through all of it, surviving battles and harsh conditions that broke other men while the battalion ultimately suffered a 50% casualty rate with 356 men killed, wounded, or missing and 71 tanks destroyed. Documented by the battalion historian for engaging and destroying more enemy positions than any other soldier—with estimates ranging from 300 to 400 enemy casualties directly attributable to his actions—Cressy received the Silver Star in February 1945, the Bronze Star in March, and four Purple Hearts for combat wounds.
Although a recommendation for the Medal of Honor moved through military channels, it never received approval because the United States military had never awarded the nation’s highest honor to an African-American soldier during World War II, a racial barrier that would not break until 1997. Following the war, the 761st Tank Battalion was deactivated on June 1, 1946, returning to an America that still practiced strict segregation without victory parades or national recognition, though President Jimmy Carter eventually presented the battalion with the Presidential Unit Citation in 1978. Warren Cressy chose to remain in the army, serving in the Korean War where severe combat wounds to his legs and internal organs eventually ended his frontline career and led to his medical retirement as a Major in 1965 after 23 years of honorable service.
The post-war years brought personal hardships, including a divorce and extended stays at Letterman Army Hospital in San Francisco as he dealt with lingering physical injuries and the heavy psychological toll of two wars in a segregated military, yet he dedicated much of his remaining life to supporting recovering wounded veterans. Attending his first reunion of the 761st Tank Battalion in 1976, Cressy reconnected with aging comrades who still vividly remembered his unmatched courage on November 10th and 11th, 1944, when he repeatedly risked his life to save theirs. Warren Galio Harding Cressy passed away on October 26th, 1976, at the age of 53 in San Francisco, leaving behind a proud legacy carried on by his son, Warren Harding Cressy Jr., who graduated from West Point that very same year.
