The sound of silence....
Well the summer draws to a close and the run up to Christmas starts. Desperate for a holiday the wife and I took the trainee terrorists (female aged 12 going on 18 and male 15 going on 'whatever') to Dorset. We deliberately chose a site with nothing on it, so forcing us to go out every day. And so it was. At the crack of dawn the troops assembled and we toured the county. In the evening we looked forward to the bliss of a quiet night, no drunken youths, no booming music from a club house and no middle-aged karaoke wannabes. Quality family time would allow us to do things we no longer seemed to have time for; play board games, watch dvds, talk. All was peaceful, all was bliss, until four nights in when the ground rocked and every five minutes or so a boom broke the silence. For those unfamiliar with Dorset it is a beautiful county full of lovely, open countryside and rolling hills. In fact, the exact type of area the British Army find perfect for training their tank drivers. And