Greatest Ever Machines: Tanks, Five
IN A WEEK when we're all supposed to be focused on human suffering in Africa, it might seem strange, to some, for the BBC to run a daily programme on the plight of the continent's baby hephalumps.
Bu
t last night also saw EastEnders, Time Team's Big Roman Dig, and The Unforgettable Benny Hill being broadcast on the box. Does that mean, in watching these, we were doing the poor in Africa a bad turn? Of course not. But it's the kind of specious logic deployed by those and such as those when it comes to our four-legged acquaintances.
Remember all the twaddle about "why spend time banning fox-hunting when we could be talking about the economy"? It was risible but it is, I suppose, what we've come to expect from *homo nutterus when it comes to animals.
There was plenty other things for that sort to watch last night anyway. BBC2 had Slaughterhouse: Task of Blood, about a family-run abattoir in Oldham. This visceral vision was filmed in black and white, and featured a piano accompaniment. Hmm, nice. Meanwhile, over on Sky One, the channel that makes even ITV look interesting, The Last Hunt took what promised to be a partisan look at the barking fox-manglers of the Berkeley.
Faced with that lot, which decent person wouldn't rather watch Elephant Diaries? Let me say right away: it wasn't all twee. For a start, it raised the following important question: what is it about Africa that makes even nice white men sport moustaches and look like potentially violent policemen? Jonathan Scott, one of the presenters here, was a classic of the genre, though he did not let his moustache stop him feeling genuinely awe-stricken at the sight of a herd of hephalumps wandering his way.
His blonde co-presenter, Michaela Strachan, lacked a moustache but that didn't stop her cooing: "Look at this elephant: how can you not adore him?" Because we are busy, madam. OK, fair point, the little fella was cute. He was one of the orphans looked after by kind humans on a reserve which was, we were told, "the size of Wales". Everything, of course, is the size of Wales - though Wales itself is thought to be a little smaller.
Not all the orphans were the victims of nasty humans shooting their mothers. Sometimes they just got separated from the herd. Other elephants were then cruel to them, shooing them away and leaving them to fend for themselves. It's a thing people often forget about animals: they can be very cruel.
Only half of those brought to the orphanage live long enough to see their second birthdays. We saw the trauma of one terrified wee fella captured and brought in for care. Outside, the other baby elephants played football (no kidding; they were good too, though they kept getting caught in the offside trap). Inside, this little fella shivered in fear and confusion. At night, one of the African keepers slept beside him to make him feel more safe. Talk about dedication.
Some of the young hephalumps just lie down and give up, but the others rouse them (possibly because they're a player short in midfield) to pull themselves together. Routine eases the trauma and it's agreeable and heartening to see the joy in the eyes of those that survive as they gambol hither and, occasionally, thither.
Perhaps it's because they live as long as we do, and go through similar stages, that we feel a special bond with elephants. They were the only beasties to elicit sympathy from the moronic human mobs who flocked to the Coliseum in Rome.
Today, of course, we have better entertainment than that. Take Greatest Ever Machines: Tanks, for example. No offence, but if you watched this, you're a nutter.
Tom Clancy, a thriller writer, and Bruce Dickinson, who sings or sung with Iron Maiden (not a tank but a rock group), waxed lyrical about which machine could swivel and fire with the most alarming alacrity.
Not that it was all about war and the mangling of flesh. The Swedes, God bless 'em, invented a peacekeeping tank. It didn't have a turret but was very good at digging holes in which it could hide until any trouble had passed.
The Swedes were so pleased with this, they put it on sale internationally. In a surprise development, sales were sluggish, in the sense of zero, and eventually the peacekeeper tank was taken off the market. Remaining models were kept in a warehouse the size of Wales.
The full article contains 792 words and appears in The Scotsman newspaper.
