On Saturday, Elliott and I drove to Nokesville, VA, to visit what is locally referred to as the 'Tank Farm'. I'd last visited 5 years ago and loved the experience, seeing so many worldwide tanks with wheels covered in mud, some of which rumbled around a track. And today, here they were again, different mud, of course, but caked on regardless, making them seem so much more authentic. Of course, the thrill of seeing a gun turret jerk back and then pump forward to expel an ear rattling explosion would have been marvelous, but I knew that wouldn't happen. These tanks are laid out in a field with living historians, dressed in their country's war uniforms, sitting atop the turrets, or standing among tents, chairs, bunks and other war vehicles that were scattered over the field. The museum which is still in the plans of being built and is still trying to raise funds, will be located nearer to DC, but until that dream is realized, I'm more than happy to visit them here, preferring seeing them outdoors than the inside of a building. The website which explains everything is here.
I was having to exercise some caution as this was the first time my knee had got a serious workout since surgery, and with the uncut grass hiding dips and bumps, I had to watch my step. But it was all good and I still managed to move along at a reasonable pace, trying to hide my limp as I went.
Seeing these gargantuan hulks of steel hidden among dense bushes or standing silent in the field with their turrets pointed right at you is a sensational experience, almost like being on the set of a war movie. Deep ruts in the field marked their tracks to their final destinations, and I wished I could have been there when they were all arriving to take position. The deep thundering and squeaking of huge metal wheels, while spitting clouds of dust into the air around them, must have been a truly awesome sight.
At these events I'm always on the prowl for a vehicle I'd like to take home with me. I really liked the one above but it was a bit too much like the Scooby Doo van, so I walked on. The volunteer was also a little exasperated at not having been given any information on it that he could pass on to the public. I felt bad for him and slowly walked away, leaving him muttering under his breath. And then upon lifting up my head to look forward again, I saw IT, and nearly swooned. Instantly smitten, there in front of me was my dream runaround vehicle.
I hopped and limped over to it as fast as my knee would allow and loving stroked its grubby khaki green paint. This paint could stay but would need to be cleaned up with a coat of metal flake glitter added on top. Some blacked tires and a few diamond and chrome studs would make it my perfect shopping car. I could definitely keep frozen foods cool in there and no-one would be able to see in and consider stealing all my presents when I went Christmas shopping in it. Those big strong wheels would get me through any snow, ice or mud and I could even carry a couple of friends in there too. Imagine rolling up to The Beer Museum in that! I was rudely awakened from my daydreams by a small group approaching, talking almost knowledgeably about my new chariot. My ears did prick up when a young lad informed me this adorable runaround was called a BTR 152, a Russian armored personnel carrier, in service from 1950 to the present, and only costing about $39K. A steal! I want dis, it must be had! It was with the utmost reluctance that I tottered away to resume inspecting the other war machines.
The Japanese tank above was an intimidating battle vehicle, but of course, despite there being a varied collection of worldwide tanks, the British Centurion ruled the field, and definitely ruled battles all over the world. Adopted by all commonwealth countries as well as Denmark, Egypt, India, Iraq, Israel, Jordan, Lebanon, Libya, The Netherlands, Kuwait, Sweden and Switzerland, and also used by Australia in Vietnam and it was also successful against Soviet equipment. A magnificent piece of weaponry, it stood almost majestically in the field, wearing its mud on its tracks with almost tangible pride.
Even though it's all acting, the German camp still made me shiver a little, despite the hot sun. That uniform and the ambience that it radiates is still terrifying. I didn't take many photos or linger too long. I did tap a Nazi uniform in places, never before having the opportunity to touch a swastika badge, and never wanting to again.
A soldier was under the shade of some shrubbery, adding camouflage paint to his face. Seeing me watching him, he tipped his hat and I clicked my shutter quickly, and gave him a smile. All the historians here were extremely accommodating and would pose for everyone, either looking at the camera or holding a far away look, whatever you wanted. Elliott and I were constantly shooting these men, with our cameras, of course...
The smell of food kept assailing our nostrils and we were both hungry. Discovering there was a brewery nearby had me and Elliott rushing back to the car and off for a hearty lunch of shark burger, fries and beers, before returning to resume our tour of the fields.
This poor chap was all tuckered out, likely from the heat, and I sympathized with him. After our lunch and beers I stood looking down on him, and for a brief moment, contemplated joining him. I had been told by Civil War actors that their woolen uniforms kept them warm in winter and cool in summer, but today, I spoke with a couple of guys, also wearing woolen clothing, who told me different. They were sweltering under their jackets.
A couple of nice shots of Elliott. I did have to remove a rather largish bluebottle fly from his arm in Photoshop though, which he hadn't been aware of. And now some photos of me, taken by Elliott.
We had a long chat with these actors and their realistic set up. I particularly relished the camouflage netting above us, which occasionally emitted an arresting aroma of engine oil every now and then, causing me to inhale deeply. Lovely!. Their tent also had an impressive display on a wooden table of plates, cups, cutlery and pots, from the era, which I took a couple of photos of, and then later removed from this blog post, as I'd overlooked a huge roll of kitchen towels sat in the middle. I don't think they were around during war time...
As we were considering leaving for the day, a young lad walked by, playing his bagpipes magnificently. He was like a pied piper, I had to follow. But I couldn't keep up with him, while trying to video him and watch my step. Yet, fortunately, I did manage a brief video of his playing.
I was exhausted by the time we left. The big lunch was making me drowsy and Elliott said we'd walked about 4 miles that day. It had been a superb day of heavy metal, a unique opportunity to get up close and personal with these imposing and impressive machines and their accompanying actors. I hadn't engaged with the vehicles and props as much as last time, being restricted by 'the knee', but I look forward to the next open day when I'll make up for it. Click here for the last time I came here in 2016.
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