That Fxcking Tank

When the mainstream media announced to the world that a ruined little tank was sitting on an abandoned firing range, the internet had mixed reactions. Some people thought it was pretty amazing and decided that they too would venture out to find the tank. Those in the know were quick to point out that it was actually an active firing range, that they also used it for grenades too, that the hills were potentially littered with unexploded munitions, and that the media had put lives at risk with their irresponsible journalism.

The mainstream media quickly did what they always do, which is to conclude that if anything bad does happen, they'll just blame immigrants and people on benefits. "Did you have your leg blown off after we told you this patch of countryside wasn't an active firing range? Well if you had been at work, that wouldn't have happened, you lazy millenial."

As established over the past decade, my survival instinct and I aren't really on speaking terms. I decided to go see the tank.

 

To get to the firing range, one must follow this nice long road up into the hills. As you can see from the condition of the road, there's no way this firing range is abandoned.

I guess the risk of unexploded munitions should keep me on my toes. Or rid me of them entirely.

 

 

Eventually the road leads to this building, which is a bit of a mishmash of different bricks and stones, and has clearly had various modifications over the years. Presumably this is where everyone gathers when it's time to shoot stuff. On either side of the tower are walled areas similar to blast shelters, apparently used when they're throwing grenades about.

 

A quick mooch around the tower revealed that not only has it had the windows blocked off, but it's also had the ladder removed.

 

 

Or at least, mostly removed. The top of it can just be seen there. You think this will stop me?

 

 

Okay, so it's rather featureless up there, and the windows are barred. Architecturally this structure is a thing of curiosity, but I didn't dwell on it. I had a tank to find.

 

 

So this is the point of no return, hopefully in the sense that once I've passed this sign there's no turning back until I see the tank, rather than the less-fun kablooey kind of no return. The tank is there in the distance. I just gotta casually hop a fence and stroll past this sign. This will be a doddle.

 

 

See, if I hadn't disobeyed the sign, I'd never be able to appreciate the military paint on the back of it! That's a nice touch.

Onto the fucking tank! Isn't it gorgeous?

 

 

The crazy thing about this tank, and the reason I prefix it with the F-word, is that nobody in the urbex world seems to be able to agree on a damn thing about it, and some of the stuff I've read is downright absurd. Never before have my eyes rolled so much. They've been doing laps around my skull so often that they're starting to erode my sockets. Some urban explorers have claimed that this tank saw service in Afghanistan before coming here, but this has quickly been debunked by those who regularly shoot it, who claim it's been sat here for at least forty years. There's also the fact that it's a World War 2 era tank, and that leads me to my next facepalm. Some say that the tank is a remnant of a battle that took place here during World War 2.

What battle??? We're in the Midlands, not flippin' Dunkirk!

 

And then of course we have the matter of the tanks model. Some say it's an M4 Sherman. Some say it's a Canadian Ram. Some say it's a Sherman with Ram bits. Some say it's a Kangaroo. 

I'm no tank expert, but I'm gonna go with Ram. Check out the resemblance.

 

 

(Picture not mine, obviously)

See? Totally the same vehicle, albeit with a turret still attached.

As mentioned, the Ram was Canadian. After the battle of Dunkirk, the UK was left with something of a tank shortage, and the Canadians were all aboot lending a hand. The Ram was built based on US designs so that it could use components already in production. It was unleashed on the world in 1941, but it was overshadowed by the American Shermans, which became the dominant tank of choice. As such up until 1944 the Ram was used exclusively for training purposes and never combat. At least, not as a tank. Those who say this is a Kangaroo may not be wrong, because a Kangaroo was basically just an armoured people carrier created by repurposing a Ram chassis without the shooty bit .

 

(Photo not mine, obviously)

 

The Kangaroo was the brainchild of Lieutenant-General G G Simonds, who wanted to protect the infantry a bit better, and have them also capable of moving at tank speed alongside supporting tanks. To that end he had the idea of removing the turrets of disused tanks, and turning them into transport vehicles. The first Kangaroos were repurposed "Priest" tanks from the US, but these were on loan so the Canadians were quick to look at other alternatives. One hundred Rams were repurposed from the UK, neutered, and sent to France as Kangaroos. With the turret removed, its weight was reduced from 65,000lbs to 53,760lbs, increasing its mobility. 

Many other Rams were repurposed by the Dutch in 1945. They got permission from the Canadian military to make use of any disused Rams still on their land. However many of them were in poor condition and proved insufficient. The UK, ever looking for ways to get rid of its Rams, handed over 44 of their own leftovers. Some saw action in the Netherlands with additional flamethrower doohickeys added, and then in the 1950s some Ram tanks were encased in concrete with just the turret sticking out, to serve as pillboxes. Some of these can still be seen in the Netherlands today at the side of roads. I had a gander on Streetview and found a bunch. Maybe someday I'll go see them.

Somehow this Ram ended up here, turret-less and covered in bullet holes, no doubt the focal point of the folks who use the firing range. In hindsight it probably isn't the wisest decision I've ever made to go onto a firing range and mooch around the very thing everyones shooting at, but hey-ho.

 

I think at this point it's rather impossible to tell if this is a pure Ram or a neutered Kangaroo, purely because it's been here for so long and whatever happened to its gun thingie may not have been the consequences of Kangarooing, but just the end result of decades sitting on a hill having people throw grenades and bullets around. But honestly I don't know anything about tanks so I'm happy to listen to any input from people who do. Unless of course they're those silly super tank nerds. And I don't mean your average friendly person who likes tanks. I mean those weirdos who act like you're an idiot if you don't know what every single component of every single military thing is called, just because they're obsessed with bumming the army. Maybe you know the type. A few of them say that this isn't even a tank, but an "armoured combat vehicle," and that anyone who says it's a tank must have brain damage.

 

 

Now, if you have your passion, that's fine. I collect vintage Transformers, many of which are older than me. I'm a total nerd, and in no position to judge others. But you see, if I invite someone over and they know nothing about Transformers, I don't make fun of them if they can't tell me which one in the cabinet is Megatron. If anything it's a relief. That bastard is worth twice my rent.  

 

My point being, I can respect if someone hasn't got the same interests as me. You don't get that with the type of army nerds I'm describing. In addition to making fun of people who don't know everything about tanks, they don't seek to inform. They don't offer ther knowledge for others to learn from. They just want to mock people. 

 

 

But much to the disdain of tank nerds everywhere, I'm a lot like thrush. I'm an irritating cunt. If I find out that you're getting your army-print knickers in a twist over whether or not this is a tank, I will get shit wrong just to watch you squirm. 

 

I do it in Shrewsbury too: Here in my hometown we have a really pretty park called The Quarry, so called because it used to be a quarry back in the 1200s when they built the town walls. Today it's generally referred to as The Quarry Park, so that tourists know that it's a park, and actually go there. But the towns boomers tend to throw all their toys out of the pram for some reason every time it gets referred to as a park, even though it is a park. It's actually a very nice park, so I never really saw the issue.

But, I just can't help but take a great big stick to a hornets nest, whether I'm in Shrewsbury, the only town in the world where one can make a grown man cry by calling a park a park, or here in the urbex scene where I can make a grown man cry by saying that this "armoured combat vehicle" is a tank. 

"Armoured combat vehicle" just describes a tank, ya big fanny!

 

 

The interior of the tank still has all these old levers and pedals which is pretty cool.

 

 I'm guessing this is some sort of steering mechanism?

And finally there's this tiny shack nearby, but there was nothing in it.

In this picture the tank is just visible on the left hand side, with the buildings on the right. 

And this seems like a good enough place to wrap up.

To conclude, I've shoveled my way through a lot of bullshit with this blog, what with people actually thinking the tank battled the Nazis here in the Midlands. But this is the first time I've documented a tank in my blogs, so I'm pretty happy.

From an urbex perspective... look, it's on an active firing range. I can't recommend or condone anyone coming here, but neither is it my place to tell people not to do something, especially when it's something I've already done. If you want to see the tank, weigh up the risk yourself and be careful.

My next few blogs will be an abandoned pottery and then an abandoned broom factory. It's a lot more exciting than it sounds, because we're diving into the world of Victorian-era industrialness, and these places are total death traps. 

In the meantime, follow me on Instagram, Vero, Reddit, Twitter aaaand the hellsite that is Facebook, where I plan on posting this and drinking tank nerd tears because I called a turret a shooty bit. Stick meet hornets nest.

Thanks for reading.