DISAPPOINTINGLY, at no point during Revelations: Commando Chaplains, did a grizzled, cigar-chewing general turn to one of his priests and say: "War is hell, padre. Down here, God ain't nothin' but dog spelled backwards." Nor did either of the command
o chaplains resemble whimsical Father Mulcahy from M*A*S*H. Huh? Next you'll be telling me that art doesn't imitate life.
So, anyway. This contemplative documentary followed fighting-fit Methodist minister Bill Gates (not that one) and C of E priest Nigel Beardsley, as they served alongside Royal Marine units in Afghanistan. Despite the intense danger, neither of them carried guns, deeming it inappropriate and a potential hindrance to the troops. In other words, according to narrator Bill Paterson, they were "men whose only weapon is the Bible". Pro that he is, Paterson can proclaim this guff as though it were hewn from stone.
But neither priest was there to convert. Instead, they were clear about their roles as confidants and comforters. Whether a soldier was religious or not, the padres were there to present spiritual support in times of need. Said one marine following a memorial service for fallen comrades: "It makes you feel better. I can't really explain why, but it's something to believe in."
Naturally, the most common question they're asked is: are we doing the right thing? Their answer, as Tony Blair will tell you, is yes. But what about the biggest question of all: why does God allow this? "When we get to glory, all will be revealed," was all Gates could offer. Disconcertingly vague, but what else could he say? Amid the madness of an interminable war, all they can do is help to make some sense of it all.
Sincere, pragmatic and open-minded, Gates and Beardsley were good men doing their best in a horrendous situation. For them, this was no holy war, no modern crusade, but rather an unquestioning moral duty. And, judging by their popularity among the troops, there is still truth to the adage that there are no atheists in the trenches. Despite the annoyingly bombastic background music (it was a war documentary after all), Claudio Von Planta's film offered an interesting twist on the usual "Our Boys on the Front Lines" fare, and, much like the padres themselves, never sought to judge or hector.
Now, here's a thing. In Britain in the early 1970s, a group of commune-dwelling radicals decided to reject traditional parenting ideals by sharing responsibility for each other's children.
Fired up by hardcore feminism and distaste for the patriarchal norm, they also decided to give their offspring the same symbolic surname: Wild.
In the slight yet diverting First Cut documentary Wild Things, first-time filmmaker Adam Hopkins tracked down members of this unusual extended family. Most interesting was Sam Wild, who now works in Hong Kong's business district. Admitting that his upbringing had instilled in him an abiding lack of commitment, this unabashed capitalist initially seemed to have dramatically rejected his parents' hippie ideals. Yet he eventually revealed that he wouldn't have changed it for the world. He even hoped that one day he could be involved in something similar.
The other grown-up kids expressed similar gratitude – proof, perhaps, that as long as children are loved, they will remain stable, no matter how unusual their environment.
The full article contains 578 words and appears in The Scotsman newspaper.
