“The Desert Rats in need of Fresh Power Packs- The Story of a British Tank Mechanic”

As some of you may know, I am a veteran of the British Army and am now a current serving member of the Canadian Armed Forces as a Bombardier in the Royal Regiment of Canadian Artillery. Proud as I am of my new role and trade in the combat arms, I always remember the roots of my military heritage, which is tanks. I have had a fascination with tanks from a very young age. To me, nothing speaks more to the punch and spearhead of a fighting ground force than the power of an armored fighting vehicle, especially the main battle tank. Now for me, I wanted to not only work in the British Army with tanks, but also to come out of the Army with a trade and some knowledge that would allow me to have a career. However, since I joined at 16 years old, that was not the true focus on my mind. I wanted to do something that not only allowed me to operate tracked vehicles but to support and fix them as well. This is what led me to become a part of the Royal Electrical and Mechanical Engineers. The trade I joined was called “heavy tank mechanic” and I can safely say it was the best job I ever had. I was given the chance to serve my country, and within my corps, when I was tasked with deployment to Helmand Province, Afghanistan, in 2008.

Now it is hard to understand, when I look back now, why we had tracked fighting vehicles in such poor environments for those tracked vehicles. Afghanistan is like another planet. You may have seen the desert-like, dry, and dusty terrain on the news, and, although this is a large portion of the land out there, the footage does not show you the hills, the wadis, the mud, the rock obstacles, and most importantly, the finely crushed baby powder-like dust that destroys tank engines. Tank engines are very robust, but they are not as resilient to this kind of problem as you would think. One of the largest risks to armor in Afghanistan was not RPGs or being taken out by some fancy anti-tank weapon, it was improvised explosive devices and mechanical attrition. As a tank mechanic I can say, with a hand on my heart, that I have never worked as hard in my life to keep vehicles moving than I did in that environment. The heat, the altitude, and the dust were cancer to tank engines and power packs. It was not a matter of if the battlegroups engines would fail, but when. I was tasked to attach alongside the armored infantry of two British infantry units, the Prince of Wales Royal Regiment and the 4 SCOTS, the Highlanders regiment. These were two of the most respected armored infantry units at the time, with years of experience and operational exposure to this sort of deployment. I was in good hands. Many people think that being a tank mechanic means sitting back in the forward operating base or back in the main camps fixing units up from the comfort and safety of these bases. This may be true for some, but in my case, I was lucky enough to be able to attach to the front-line Light Aid Detachment.

The Light Aid Detachment or LAD was a dedicated Royal Electrical and Mechanical Engineers (REME) platoon that worked night and day alongside the company of infantry no matter the fighting or the situations. This appealed to me because I wanted to be up close supporting their workhorses, the incredible “Warrior Infantry Fighting Vehicle''. Equipped with a powerful 30mm main gun and 7.62mm machine gun, and, with a maximum road speed of 75km/hour and the capacity to host 7-8 troops in the back, this speedy and strong vehicle was able to handle just about everything thrown at it. However, the arduous conditions of Afghanistan meant that you could only ask so much of these vehicles when they were pushed to their limit. The Afghan environment was hurting these vehicles more than the risk of enemy attacks.

The combination of the Warrior’s engine and transmission, known as a powerpack, took a repair team around two hours to fix (if things went well). This is not including the risk of an attack, heat effects, and problems occurring with the removal and installation of new power-packs. To get new powerpacks, they were flown via Chinook helicopter from Camp Bastion and brought out to us on an “urgent need only” basis. Which meant, if you can make it limp and work, then that is what you must do. For me, this did not sit well. I could not understand the risk associated with asking crews to fix the vehicles only to have them break down again in more critical situations, such as an ambush or attack on the company. I was discontent with this method of repair and logistics.

I recall dealing with a Warrior that had a powerpack on its deathbed. The strain of the northern hilly terrain, combined with the heat and altitude, had weakened the very powerful CV8 turbocharged engine, rendering it akin to the Taliban’s moped powered bike engines, which they used to watch us and call for attacks. You must realize that the Warrior was not designed to be sent into an environment like Afghanistan. It was a Cold War era infantry fighting vehicle that was meant to drive troops to the front and pull out. In Afghanistan we were asking it to drive the troops out, then to follow and support them, while acting as bullet magnets for RPG’s and IED strikes. To increase its defensive capabilities, the vehicle was given an operational upgrade of 10-12 tons of additional armor. Combined with the challenges I mentioned before, the powerpacks were dropping like flies. But back to my story of this specific powerpack. It had passed its pass off test three times, meaning it was “roadworthy”, but basically on the lowest limit. Like running your tires on the last strip of treads, they may be legal and by the book ‘OK’, but in combat OK does not cut it.

I was on the radio with my boss back in the main camp where they were not understanding our situation. They repeatedly rejected our request to have a new powerpack sent out. It was only a matter of time before this Warrior’s engine would fail in a life-or-death situation. I was not going to be the one to explain to the family of my friends that they had died because a vehicle had gotten stuck or had broken down. So, I chose a rather unorthodox method of denying the engine a successful pass off test. We ground run the vehicle with ambilocal cables and piping to see if it worked, and in this test, I decided to throw some sand, dust, and water into the inlet for air as it ran full throttle. Surprisingly, the engine fought to the very end, coughing, and sputtering until the guts of the oil pan exploded out of the bottom. This time, I got my wish. I mentioned the catastrophic failure of the engine’s pass off test and the need for a new engine. Four hours later I had a new powerpack landing at our forward operating base and I had the old one loaded to be taken back. And of course, I attached a polaroid picture of me giving a rather undignified finger gesture to the paperwork sent back to my boss at the camp. Safe to say he was not pleased when I got back to Camp Bastion after my deployment and told him how the engine failed the way it did. Regardless, he respected my intention, and, although I got in a bit of trouble, I felt that it was one of the smartest things I had done all tour. Forcefully denying an engine to pass a simple test, which was designed for vehicles in optimal conditions, could have prevented the loss of lives or assets. I look back now and laugh at the situation, as we all did when we were grabbing handfuls of sand and throwing it into the worst place for ingestion of debris on engines. But this memory and action taught me that sometimes, the best way to solve problems is to not deal with it by the book, but by your own judgement, personal confidence, and trust in your decisions.

I have never been prouder to serve with such an amazing piece of military hardware. The Warrior saved my life on three occasions. I owe a lot to its design, engineering, and the training of the crews I worked with. I would like to dedicate this article to all those lost or injured during my operational tour on OP HERRICK 8 with PWRR and 4SCOTS.

Matt James, 33 Lives in Alberta and currently serving Member of Royal Regiment of Canadian artillery and British Army REME veteran. Family of a wife and two girls. His Youtube channel, Matsimus, has currently 340,000 subscribers.