Through the Lens | The Challenger 2

A Challenger 2 Tank of the Queen's Royal Hussars deploys a smokescreen on Salisbury Plain

On a particularly cold December morning, I covered a trial being conducted on Salisbury Plain by a team from Dstl - the Ministry of Defence’s scientific research arm. I can’t go into the details of the trial, but it was part of a much larger, multi-billion pound project investigating and testing tools which will form the future of Britain’s defence, and military technology as a whole.

An icy wind was blowing hard from the east, carving its way over the barren hills and leaving the mercury hovering just below zero. The sun was low and bright in the sky, although it had forgotten to bring any warmth with it. And as myself and a colleague waited for events to unfold, we watched the small clouds skidding along, indifferent to the world below them.

Deep in the heart of Salisbury Plain, the UK Ministry of Defence training area which covers large swathes of rural Wiltshire in the UK’s south-west, we waited for the trial to begin. Distant mortar ‘crumps’ and ‘thud’ reports of the Royal Artillery echoed ominously around the valley as I huddled in my arctic down jacket for warmth, scarf around my face, stomping my boots into the frozen earth.

Around me, scientists and technicians unloaded equipment from pickups, plugged in cables, brewed tea and squinted at monitors balanced on trestle tables under tarpaulins. If you have any illusions of military science being glamorous and high-tech, like Q in the James Bond franchise, then I’m afraid you are sorely mistaken. Most of the time it involves standing in a cold, muddy field, surrounded by people in hi-vis and combat boots, with a grotty portable toilet somewhere off in the corner.

Part of our remit was to capture how the technology was functioning. To do this, we needed to visit various locations around the trial site, where different military platforms had been placed for various reasons. A military ‘platform’ is essentially any vehicle used by the British armed forces - in this case some Challenger 2 tanks form the Queen’s Royal Hussars and the prototype Ajax AFV (now entering service).

Jumping in a Ford Ranger, just about the only vehicle other than a tracked one capable of navigating Salisbury Plain, we bounced our way down into the woodlands at the foot of a valley, passing some classified ‘enemy’ vehicles along the way. These vehicles had been ‘acquired’ by a unit of special forces at some point in the last decade from ‘unknown’ locations, for use in training and analysis.

In the valley, we stopped at an old farm. Salisbury Plain was requisitioned by the Ministry of Defence in the early 20th century to train and house the Army, and all residents were infamously removed, leaving their homes and farms behind. Imber village is the most famous of these locations, and is now used as an urban warfare training area but can be visited on certain days.

The farm we were at, however, is not accessible to the public and is comprised of a long, low brick barn, with gaping holes in the slate roof, shattered windows and rotting doors. It forms one side of a concrete yard mainly filled with ankle deep puddles, surrounded by a wall of brick and patched concrete. Imagine a fort in the Wild West, or an Afghan compound, and you’ll get the idea.

Here, sitting silently, proudly, menacingly, was a Challenger 2 tank, barrel pointing skywards. It was surprisingly well concealed for a vehicle almost the size of a bus and over 70t in weight! It was only as we rounded the corner of the barn did this beast rear into view. If this was combat, we’d have been pulverised by a HESH or armour piercing round before we’d even registered what was happening.

Thankfully, the crew of three were actually sheltered in the lee of the barn, sat around a fire they’d made and drinking tea from their BV (boiling vessel) while reading books and magazines. For them, this trial was essentially spending 12 hours sat in a farmyard in the freezing cold with nothing to do. Not exactly what you join the army for.

For us, all we needed was to photograph the tank, but I felt this was a little dull as it was. Tanks are impressive, but the MOD have some amazing imagery of them in action, so one sitting in a courtyard wasn’t going to cut it.

After chatting to the commander and realising they were incredibly bored, I suggested we do a little photoshoot and reposition the tank slightly, rotate the turret and barrel and pose it in the most dramatic way we could.

They were more than happy to actually do something and we all sprung into life, moving the tank slightly so that it was backlit by the low sun, framed by the farm walls, while aiming the barrel of the gun upward to create a strong profile. I then requested they activate the smokescreen - this basically involves injecting their diesel fuel into the exhaust and creating huge plumes of white smoke to hide the vehicle. It always looks dramatic in a photo. Although it uses up a lot of fuel in the process.

The smoke lingered long enough to take a range of images from different angles, plus do some filming as well for B-roll and general use, before the wind dispersed the billowing clouds of smoke and the drama faded. The roar of the engine had drowned out almost everything for almost 20 minutes, but as it turned off a strange hush descended, leaving only the crackling fire, the wind in the exposed eves of the barn, and the birdsong filling the farmyard.

Shoot done, we said goodbye to the crew, who were grateful at having had something different to do for half an hour, and set off back up the hill in the Ranger. Other vehicles were photographed on the route back to the trial HQ, but none were as dramatic or impressive as the Challenger, and it stood out as the highlight of our day. Although I was glad not to be a tankie stuck in that cold farmyard for hours on end.