I WAS warned my camp would be basic, but they never said anything about cold showers and portable toilets.
When we finally arrived three hours late — our first plane was delayed — all I wanted was a hot shower and change of clothes.
I was shown to my room — a camp bed in the female dormitory tent — and pointed in the direction of the portable toilets and the row of cold showers.
It was enough to send a girl racing back to the airport and civilisation.
But after a chat with the other women taking part in the two-week exercise I decided to cancel my taxi when they told me about the banya.
A banya is a piece of Russian kit on the back of a lorry powered by diesel which pumps hot water and steam into a tented shower.
My only problem after that was the women-only sessions were for 15 minutes each evening, so you had to be on time and quick.
Everything on camp was in tents – the kitchen, the control room, restaurant, all provided by the Kazakh troops.
Catering, though, was run by the British Army and they did a pretty good job.
All the produce was bought locally and each morning troops got a hot breakfast — although chefs often tried to pass off fried spam as an alternative to bacon – then a packed lunch and, for evening meals, a choice of three main courses plus puddings.
Menus included roast beef and Yorkshire pudding, cottage pie, chicken Kiev and a delicious lamb stew, treacle sponge and custard or fruit. The food was pretty amazing, to be honest.
The camp had plenty of Cold War memorabilia dotted around – rockets, barbed wire and tank defence drawings with instructions in Russian, and vehicles, including tanks.
But what really made the trip really interesting was the people, young and old, former regulars, those new to the TA or who had been involved for years.
About 10 women were on the exercise as part of the 7th Rifles and had a range of roles, in the band, transport, chefs and medics.
Despite the very masculine environment, these women ensured they retained their femininity.
Mum-of-four Johanna Hrycak, 35, from Milton Keynes, known by all as JJ, wore dark green combats like her comrades. But everything else was pink.
Sunglasses, pencil case, iPod, shoes, pyjamas…the list was endless.
Over dinner we were privy to tales of Army life such as shimmying down drainpipes from the women’s barracks, to heroism in the field. They all had a story to tell.
Come Monday morning they all slip back to their civilian roles, be it working in an office, courtroom or the school run, and no-one would ever guess how they had just spent the last few weeks.
Spending a week with the Army gave me a real insight into the lives of these people, who were mostly volunteers.
They care about what they do, were very professional and took pretty much every moment seriously, and above all, loved it.
And my highlight? Hitching a ride in an amphibious tank — not something I get to do every day.
l Don’t miss Sam’s final report in tomorrow’s Oxford Mail bicester@oxfordmail.co.uk
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