In Yugoslavia
We were in mountainous southern Yugoslavia on a rough, gravel-corrugated, pot-holed road, when I heard a noise which sounded like a semi-trailer coming up fast behind us. I looked to my right and was startled to see a thumping great tank with a red star on the turret, crashing through the timber, about twenty yards away and parallel to the road.
Keith screamed out over the noise, "Crikey, they are on to us - and I haven't got my anti-tank gun."
Keith had been in an anti-tank platoon in Korea. He had shot at these tanks before, and now wanted his gun.
I screamed back at him, "Remember, we are on a scooter and we don't have room for an anti-tank gun. You will just have to wait until we get home."
The tank got ahead of us, then slewed across the road in front, blocking our path. I braked heavily and stopped just short of the monster.
The turret lid opened and an officer climbed out, followed by a crew member with a sub-machine gun. The officer greeted us with a grave, unblinking stare, then went through the language list and decided we spoke English.
Holding his hand out, he said, "Passport? Visa?"
We got our papers and handed them to him. He thumbed through them, snorted, handed them back and then in broken English said, "You have ridden into a Russian tank firing-range. We are about to start night exercises. You can go no further. You will camp the night right here. You will not move until daylight."
Scooter Nomads Book 2 Edsel Ward pp16-17