Seaman speaks at the dedication ceremony in May 1926. (Rare and Manuscript Collections) Storytime with Corey Remembering When ‘America’ Came to the Hill (the Army Tank, That Is) A century ago, Cornell welcomed a notable piece of World War I materiel—but this ‘perpetual memorial’ wasn’t long for campus By Corey Ryan Earle ’07 In April 1926, a loud mechanical rumble—which, perhaps, could have been mistaken for distant thunder—resonated throughout campus. While stormy skies were a common Ithaca occurrence then as now, this unusual roar emanated from the newest addition to the Hill: a British Mark V tank from World War I. Dubbed “America,” the tank had taken a transatlantic journey of nearly 3,500 miles from London to its new home. The final leg was a leisurely drive from the East Ithaca train depot on Maple Avenue, across Cascadilla Gorge, and up to Barton Hall, where it parked on the building’s south side—29 days after being loaded aboard the cargo ship SS Vardulia. “America” was a gift to Cornell from the British government, facilitated by WWI veteran Maj. Louis Livingston Seaman 1872. “It stands not only for the ideals associated with its name,” Seaman said at a dedication ceremony in May 1926, “but for noble expression of ideals—the ideals of America and Cornell.” Although built in England, the tank had been funded through the efforts of the British War Relief Association of New York, of which Seaman was president: when approached by a philanthropist who wished to support the Allied cause, he noted the need for tanks. It stands not only for the ideals associated with its name, but for noble expression of ideals—the ideals of America and Cornell. Maj. Louis Livingston Seaman 1872, about the tank The resulting vehicle, funded with a check for $15,000, was numbered 9128 and christened “America.” It made significant contributions on the frontlines, most notably during the Battle of Amiens in August 1918. Seaman served in several major conflicts. The British Army’s Royal Tank Corps later used “America” for training at Bovington Camp in Dorset. When the military no longer needed it, Seaman lobbied for its donation to the University as a memorial to Cornellians who’d lost their lives in the war. Cornell contributed over 4,500 commissioned officers to World War I—more than any other institution, even West Point—and 265 alumni died in the conflict. The fallen would later be recognized with the West Campus War Memorial, but construction wouldn’t begin until 1928, two years after the tank’s arrival. “We have learned to recognize in the name ‘Cornell’ a synonym for duty, patriotism, devotion, and the high virtue of citizenship,” Seaman said at the dedication. “These are ideals branded on the souls of every one of us.” Seaman’s own dedication to Cornell and country was unquestionable. He enrolled at the University’s opening in 1868, although he left early due to illness and didn’t officially graduate until 1906, 34 years after his classmates. Cornell contributed over 4,500 commissioned officers to World War I—more than any other institution, even West Point—and 265 alumni died in the conflict. In the meantime, he earned two medical degrees and a law degree. As an army surgeon, he saw service in the Spanish-American, Russo-Japanese, and Balkan wars, and considered himself the first American officer to enter active service in WWI. Seaman helped organize the Anglo-American Volunteer Motor Ambulance Corps in London in 1914, three years before the U.S. would formally enter the war—proudly naming one of the rescue vehicles “Cornelia” in recognition of alumni donations. The uniformed crowd at the tank’s dedication. After its dedication, the “America” tank was relocated inside Barton. And although it was described in the media as a “perpetual memorial,” its presence on campus would prove to be relatively short-lived. In February 1938, the Ithaca Journal noted that Cornell officials felt the tank had “outlived its usefulness”; attempts to gift it to local veterans organizations were unsuccessful. In February 1938, the Ithaca Journal noted that Cornell officials felt the tank had “outlived its usefulness”; attempts to gift it to local veterans organizations were unsuccessful. “For 10 years, padlocked, the tank has stood in a corner of the Drill Hall,” the Alumni News observed, “attracting attention mainly at Reunions, when it was a source of curiosity to small boys and of reminiscence, perhaps, to some alumni.” It was ultimately sold for scrap—along with two howitzers, also donated through Seaman and apparently stored under the Schoellkopf Crescent. The tank stood outside Barton only briefly before spending a decade inside. Today, the only remaining evidence of the tank’s presence is a large memorial plaque in Barton’s west stairway. Dedicated to the Class of 1872 for its military service and noting the gift “of the war tank ‘America’” among its contributions, it was presented in 1927 by the class president: Louis Livingston Seaman. “I know what war is, both in its splendor and in its horror,” Seaman said at the plaque’s dedication, five years before his death. “I am of Quaker origin and have no fighting mania in my blood; but I deem that any man who will not fight when justice, humanity, patriotism, and a proper sense of righteousness, honor, and self-respect are at stake is a disgrace to humankind.” Top: Seaman speaks at the dedication ceremony in May 1926. (Rare and Manuscript Collections; all other images courtesy of Wikimedia Commons.) Published June 22, 2026 Leave a Comment Cancel replyOnce your comment is approved, your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *Comment * Name * Class Year Email * Save my name, email, and class year in this browser for the next time I comment. Δ Other stories You may like Campus & Beyond New Book by Alumni Explores Walter LaFeber’s Life and Work Ask the Expert Laundry Putting You Through the Wringer? Apparel Expert Has Tips Quizzes & Puzzles Cornellian Crossword: ‘Fall Festivities’