In the days leading up to a photo-shoot and possibly after reviewing CCTV footage, operators of the local playing-fields imposed a height-restriction at the entrance of the car-park that the platoon had identified as the perfect drop-zone for a PR shoot.
Taking a leaf out of Napoleon's book at Austerlitz, Gromit and I rose before dawn to load the vehicle and raise it to working temperature before departing in a cloud of AdBlu. Within minutes and in sight of the entrance, the 4x4 scaled the grassy knoll alongside like a Panzer unit in the Ardennes. With not even a dog-walker defending its ramparts, we had successfully invaded the car-park.
Ed. The author's grandfather and great uncle served in Gallipoli and are turning in their graves.
