Itwas a frosty English morning. Our beautiful shiny new-to-us Land Rover Defender 110 was parked on our front lawn and we were about to embark on our first lesson of four-wheel-driving. We had arranged to meet members from a Wiltshire 4WD club who for £50 were happy to take us to Salisbury to teach us the basics of driving our new red beast and how to use the equipment that came with it. For those of you unfamiliar with England, Salisbury is known for a couple of things, firstly, Stonehenge, secondly the 780-years-old Cathedral of St Mary, commonly known as Salisbury Cathedral. Interestingly due to a high water table the cathedral was built on only 1.2 metres of foundations. In my opinion Salisbury is one of the most beautiful cathedrals in England. However today neither of these two was on our to-do list, today we were off to explore the Salisbury Plain. Salisbury Plain is a chalk plateau covering 780 sq km. Until now we had travelled a few times through the Salisbury Plain and the one thing I knew about it was that private traffic is restricted and in some parts, prohibited. The reason? The British Army have conducted exercises on the plain since 1898 and the MoD bought up large tracts of land and still use it to practice military manoeuvres and specifically tank battle. Whenever we have travelled through the plain it was always exciting to see the “Tank Crossing” signs on the side of the road and see where they cross, like very large pedestrian crossings – and of course there is always the hope you might actually see a tank. But, like those “Deer Crossing” signs – you never see one, right? Anyway, if you have local knowledge and know which tracks you can use and which you can’t you are permitted to drive off-road on the plain but these are fenced with invisible boundaries, so you have to be pretty careful where you drive. Thankfully the person guiding us, Andy, was a local and so it was with some excitement that we drove toward the plain. We met Andy and made the small talk as is usual with the English, “cold morning, but lovely weather we’re having?”, etc. We filled him in on our previous experience – absolutely nothing - and you could almost see him fizz with the impending opportunity to impart his knowledge of all things 4WD. OK, time to talk failed hill climbs. To be honest most of the time was spent talking rather than driving but this is exactly what we needed. We had read about what the “other” gear stick was but hadn’t actually had the courage to use it, so it was good to have someone to discuss these embarrassingly basic matters with. While talking we heard the boom boom of tank fire and Andy told us the tanks sounded about 3 km away - how exciting. The most important thing we learnt that day was how versatile this machine, that we affectionately called “The Landy”, was. It seems to me the only limiting factors were the courage to push the Landy to its limits. It had awesome capability and I looked at it with new eyes – no longer was it just a big red beast that was going to cosset us on our up-coming overland trip to Iran. About an hour and a half into the instruction we followed Andy up a hill. Once at the top we all got out to watch two tanks manoeuvring. Andy told us we were just outside one of those invisible boundaries but I was a little worried, given the range of tanks, we could easily be just inside one of those invisible boundaries. It was great to watch but to my horror one of the tanks turned and flew up the hill toward us – oh no, are we in trouble? Once at the top of the hill it was obvious that we were the audience. The tank stopped abruptly, spun around and postured just like a strutting peacock. The young men operating it appeared to be enjoying showing off their prowess. Off they went, full speed down the hill, and in their wake a Bat Mobile smoke screen shot out of the back – what a show they were giving us. Moments later, both tanks sped up the hill, and this time, I thought perhaps their patience was being tested by our gawping and we would be sent on our way. Much to our delight, both parked their awesome machines by our Land Rovers, reversing up, as if they were in a supermarket car park. They leapt down casually and said “Morning”. It was quite a thing to be spoken to by these handsome brave young English men in uniform, what does one say? Anyway, luckily I had two strapping manly men with me, one of whom was my husband Mike, who was as excited as me, but had the way with all to look casual and ask sensible questions. I was able to ask though, “could I have a look?” pointing at the throbbing piece of metal parked up in the scrub. To which the reply came – “help yourself”. We were both just so excited at the opportunity and immediately leapt onto one of the tanks. Wow! We gingerly pushed and poked and looked and smelt and even stuck our heads in the hole at the top – the ‘turret’, apparently. Taking a photo of the inside was permitted, we couldn’t believe our luck. Mike, being the avid photographic recorder of all our experiences, by this point had stood back taking marvellous pictures of the tanks and soldiers side by side. I was trying to look intelligent, listening to all the facts. This tank was called the Challenger 2 and is the main battle tank currently used by the UK and Oman. It is powered by a Perkins CV12 diesel engine delivering 900 kW. Although it has a maximum speed of 120 km/h on the road, across country it is more like 40 km/h. Its first combat for the British Army came in 2003 in the invasion of Iraq, along with 119 other tanks. Challenger 2 is one of the most heavily armoured and best protected tanks in the world. The details of its hull protection are still classified - they could tell us, but then they’d have to kill us. Its main offensive weapon is a 120 mm calibre gun. Challenger 2 is expected to remain in service to 2035. Suddenly I felt a tap on my shoulder and the more senior chap, the commander, said “Do you want to go for a ride?” Well, my knees almost gave out and I thought “you try and stop me!” but instead I managed to say something to the effect of “oh, that would be splendid”. My boots had been left unlaced all morning and in my excitement, realising I would need sturdy footwear, I could hardly manage to lace them. Therefore Mike has lots of pictures of me head down, hands on shoes. I am often asked “what were you doing here?” Mike was of course too far away to hear the magnanimous offer I had received and was rather astounded, as one would be, to see his wife helped into the machine, the commander’s seat no less, and donning headgear. Before he could even ask “what’s going on”, I was whisked away speeding down the hill. To be honest it all happened in a bit of a blur. One reason he was going quite fast and another I think I was in shock and looked a bit of a stunned mullet – I know I had the widest grin I’ve ever worn on my face for quite a few hours afterward. It took me a while to realise that the noise I was hearing through the headgear was someone talking to me. And it took him about four goes for me to understand that he was saying “I bet you’ve never seen 62 tons going sideways before!” No I hadn’t. Oh my, what a feeling! It was like flying along on a cloud. The power was vibrating all around me but in that machine I felt as protected as a coddled baby. Too soon it was over. There I was, still grinning like the village idiot, when I was deposited back to my rather envious husband. At the top of the hill we spun around again and reversed up with skill. I had noticed though we had drawn the attention of the military police and a white Defender screeched (well, as much as a Defender screeches on soggy clay) beside us. I thought for sure they had got into trouble for carrying a civilian, but it turns out the driver was being berated for his “hand-brakey” down the hill. Of course the commander blamed it on the frosty ground and later told us these MPs are frustrated retired soldiers and not to be taken seriously. “Now back to 4WD tutoring and specifically to winching techniques.” Oh sorry guys, but I just can’t concentrate on this stuff. Plus, once I’ve had a tank, do you really think I could go back to an ordinary 4WD?