In the heart of the rolling Dorset countryside, the Armour Centre at Bovington is the spiritual home of the tank in the British Army. David Clensy visits the historic base to discover its role in training another generation of battlefield heroes. Pictures: Richard Hudd.

AS the headquarters for the British Army's fleet of tanks, it's fair to assume that Bovington Garrison must be one of the most armoured military bases in the country. But it took just a single lightning strike to put the main office building out of action last year.

“The lightning sparked a small fire, so it means we've got a temporary home in one of the other office buildings,” explains Lieutenant Colonel Chris Donaghy apologetically, as we drive through the Dorset base.

The roads are busy with fresh-faced recruits, all rushing to different classrooms and tank hangars.

They have a keenness in their eyes – all the soldiers seem genuinely excited to be there. After all, driving tanks for the first time must be like having all your Boy's Own daydreams coming true at once – and it makes the months of gruelling basic training worthwhile.

Maybe that's why the atmosphere on the site feels more like a highly disciplined college campus than a military base.

“We have three main areas at the Armour Centre,” Chris explains. “The gunnery school, the signal school and the driving and maintenance section.

“Soldiers and officers from across the British Army come here to train in these

vital specialisms, and to develop their vocational expertise.

“We have every kind of armoured vehicle you can imagine, from the Challenger II tank all the way down to the basic armour-plated Land Rover. This is where all British soldiers come to develop the skills to drive these pieces of equipment, to fire them on the field of battle in the case of tanks and armoured gun-mounted vehicles, and just as importantly, to maintain and fix them as and when repairs are needed.”

But it's not just about tanks.

“We train the army's radio operators here, with many forms of communications equipment ranging from traditional

VHF to the hi-tech laptop-based military

intranet systems.

“We also provide classroom-based training and these days we even have a number of tank simulators which recruits can use to develop their driving skills further.”

The Armour Centre has been home to the British Army's heavy mob since June 1916, when the Heavy Branch of the Machine Gun Corps moved from Thetford in Norfolk to Bovington and neighbouring Lulworth.

The goal was to create a single centre of excellence for the development of armoured fighting vehicles and for the training of their commanders and crewmen.

It was here at Bovington that the earliest tanks were developed and modified, ahead of seeing action for the first time in Flanders during World War I.

It was here also that forward-thinking soldiers worked throughout the 1920s and 1930s to design the weapon systems and tactics that changed the nature of 20th- century warfare and laid the foundation for armoured victories during the liberation of Europe in 1945.

The victorious tank commanders of the first Gulf War trained here, as did the men who stood firm in peace support operations in Bosnia and Kosovo in the 1990s. Today, it's churning out expert crews and commanders to face action in the ongoing operational deployments in Iraq and Afghanistan.

It was here in 1923 that TE Lawrence – Lawrence of Arabia – was trained to drive a tank. More recently, the centre has played host to Princes William and Harry. They were taught the basics of tank warfare during their respective 13-week placements at Bovington.

“We made a conscious effort not to change anything for the princes,” Chris explains. “They experienced exactly the same training as any of their contemporaries.

“Obviously, security around the base had to be stepped up a little – but mainly to keep the paparazzi out more than anything.”

There are plenty of civilians working in the camp – in their blue overalls they stand out clearly from the military personnel.

“Much of the training is done by instructors from two contracted companies called TQ and Babcock Defence Services, but the vast majority of the civilian instructors are ex-military men.”

We find one of them talking to a gaggle of eager Phase 2 Royal Armoured Corps recruits. Mick Jenkins served 22 years in the Royal Artillery, and was offered his current position as a TQ instructor after retiring from the army.

“I'm just going back over some of the basics with these chaps,” Mick explains, before pausing to aim his pointer stick into the tracks of the Challenger II tank.

“What's that nut for?” he asks the nearest and keenest of the recruits.

“Stops the track working loose, sir,” the recruit barks back.

“Excellent,” Mick nods, before setting the lads another mechanical conundrum.

The hangars at the base make for a mysterious sight.

Wintry sunshine floods in through the open door in a single block of light, heavy with dancing flecks of dust. It takes a moment for your eyes to adjust to the darkness, but as they do you're faced by rows of tanks, running in avenues of heavy armour, nuzzling-up to their opposite number, barrel-to-barrel.

As your eyes continue to adjust to the gloom, you start to pick out more and

more groups of recruits, gathered around their individual instructors between the

muscular vehicles.

Mick's young soldiers stand in the single shaft of sunlight, following his every word. They frown with concentration, their skin pale, as yet untanned by the angry Middle Eastern rays.

“These boys are right at the end of their training,” Mick explains.

“They know their stuff. And they certainly need to know their stuff. They'll be in Iraq by next week, doing all this for real.”

On the other side of the base, Trooper Nick Jones, from Dudley, and Trooper James Changeur from Bristol, are standing on a lawn, getting to grips with a large VHF radio, which James wears on his back.

The pair of 18-year-olds check co-ordinates studiously and report back a series of numbers to some remote superior.

“We've both been in the army for about 18 months,” James explains. “We went to Harrogate to do our basic training, then we were sent here for a few weeks to get our signals training. I'm enjoying getting to grips with the equipment.”

They both face further training in Germany in April, with their first frontline stint pencilled in for November. Nick will be sent to Iraq and James to Afghanistan.

“You get to know roughly what you'll be doing for the next year,” Nick explains, the boom of a tank's gun shuddering in

the distance.

“At least that way you can plan ahead a bit. We're looking forward to getting our

training finished and experiencing some operational service.”

But are they not nervous about the prospects of serving in Basra and Helmand?

“Not really,” Nick shrugs with the resilience of youth. “That's what all this training is for.”

The noise increases across the base as a group of Royal Engineers start their morning's training – today's lesson is in the correct deployment of a mobile bridge.

The enormous vehicle rolls into place, and with an other-worldly clattering, the soldiers swiftly unfurl the pontoon from the back of the armoured low-loader. Minutes later, somewhat miraculously, they've built a bridge before our eyes.

“That's what the Royal Engineers are all about,” says Chris. “They're here to overcome obstacles for our chaps, and to create obstacles for the enemy.”

But all this frantic industry around the site is more orchestrated than you might think. Back in the temporary HQ building, Captain Dave Goddard stands before a map pinned to the wall, and checks his notes which tell him exactly where all the elements of training on the site are taking place at any given time.

“You have to know exactly what's happening at any moment,” he says. “We have 2,500 acres here, and a population of 450 recruits training on any given day. As the training area officer, it's my job to make sure all the training takes place in a safe and well-organised fashion.”

Dave is a great Goliath of a man, with a cheerful handshake that produces an interesting crunch of cartilage and bone for the recipient. But when it comes to the husbandry of the site, Dave proves he is something of a gentle giant.

“For us, conservation comes second only to our operational responsibilities,” he explains, as his pair of Jack Russells skip around his boots, hoping that the map pointer is a stick for the throwing.

“What we have here is more than 900 hectares of upland heath – that's an environment more scarce than rainforest, so we have a real duty of care to consider at all times. Because the public has been restricted from accessing the land for so long, the wildlife has been able to flourish.

“The military activity takes place only on strictly prescribed tracks. So much of the heathland remains completely unspoilt.

“As a result, we have numerous endangered species here, from the sand lizard to the Dartford warbler,” he adds, with a glance out of the window.

“A number of areas around the base are considered to be Sites of Scientific Interest (SSI), and internationally recognised places of conservation.

“It's probably not the first thing people imagine when they think about the British Army's tank headquarters. But there you go. It's a pretty amazing place all round.”