I have just been given permission from the Ministry of Defence to release this
story, which I intend to include in a new book scheduled for publication in the autumn of 2016.
Back in 1967 I was a subaltern in a British Army cavalry regiment based in Northern Germany. We were equipped with Centurion tanks, but had been informed by B.A.O.R. head quarters that we were about to receive two of the new highly advanced Chieftain tanks. These were to be used for cold weather trials in the nearby forests and plains. We eventually received three, all different marks, the main difference being their engines - two had diesels, one could run on virtually any fuel including kerosene, paraffin or used cooking oil.
On Christmas Eve we were ordered to load them on railway flatcars for Hamburg. Despite only being given 24 hours notice ( we would have normally expected at least 36 ), we assumed that these tanks were being returned to the
UK. Our fitters steam cleaned and serviced them, although we were then also told to paint them in an Olive Drab scheme. Thinking that they we being returned to their maker in Leeds, Yorkshire, I volunteered to accompany them back in the hope that I could get in a bit of game shooting on New Years Day
on the nearby Yorkshire moors. I duly packed my tweeds and guns into the boot
of my Austin Healey 3000 and picked Max, my black Labrador retriever, up from Gudrun, my German girlfriend, with whom I shared a small farmhouse
nearby.
This story gets more interesting, I promise you, but for the sake of brevity
I shall disclose it in small doses if I get enough interest shown in return.
story, which I intend to include in a new book scheduled for publication in the autumn of 2016.
Back in 1967 I was a subaltern in a British Army cavalry regiment based in Northern Germany. We were equipped with Centurion tanks, but had been informed by B.A.O.R. head quarters that we were about to receive two of the new highly advanced Chieftain tanks. These were to be used for cold weather trials in the nearby forests and plains. We eventually received three, all different marks, the main difference being their engines - two had diesels, one could run on virtually any fuel including kerosene, paraffin or used cooking oil.
On Christmas Eve we were ordered to load them on railway flatcars for Hamburg. Despite only being given 24 hours notice ( we would have normally expected at least 36 ), we assumed that these tanks were being returned to the
UK. Our fitters steam cleaned and serviced them, although we were then also told to paint them in an Olive Drab scheme. Thinking that they we being returned to their maker in Leeds, Yorkshire, I volunteered to accompany them back in the hope that I could get in a bit of game shooting on New Years Day
on the nearby Yorkshire moors. I duly packed my tweeds and guns into the boot
of my Austin Healey 3000 and picked Max, my black Labrador retriever, up from Gudrun, my German girlfriend, with whom I shared a small farmhouse
nearby.
This story gets more interesting, I promise you, but for the sake of brevity
I shall disclose it in small doses if I get enough interest shown in return.
