Military Tattoo (2 Aug 2001) – Edinburgh, Scotland, UK

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A piper plays the traditional Scottish bagpipes.

2 August 2001

Against a backdrop of an illuminated castle, and scenery in colours only Kodak could supply, what better way to start the Festival than with a big bang – and this one in the shape of cannons, fireworks, rifles and tanks. The Edinburgh Military Tattoo is a tradition that has been taking place without a single cancellation since 1950, yet the fascination still never falters.

“Isn’t there something terribly British about going to see a night of precision military performance?” asked my boyfriend as I was about to go see the opening of the Tattoo. I really didn’t know. The last time I saw the Tattoo, I was 11 and, in all honesty, not that interested in watching men march back and forth. But with age comes wisdom… apparently. Eleven years later, equipped with a cameraman and an open mind, I headed out into the warm summer night.

We arrived early and were met by half-empty stands. I didn’t think much of it; after all, as this was a preview we had gone to see I wasn’t expecting a huge crowd. The immensity of it all didn’t hit me until I noticed all of Italy sitting in front of me, with what seemed like most of Europe on both sides. With 200,000 people also watching the show live every year, and over 100 million people who enjoy it on television around the world, I guess I really should not have been that surprised.

A soldier formation in the Castle Esplanade. During Festive August the Esplanade becomes the Tattoo’s stage, surrounded by stadium seating.

Yet, watching the crowds it seemed more likely for them to break into Queen’s “We Will Rock You”, than traditional Scottish song. As Italy broke into a wave my thoughts about the event were only reinforced: Had tradition been replaced by tackiness? And the question remained: Was this an event for Britons or simply an attraction for the rest of the world to enjoy, in a similar fashion as Mel Gibson’s Braveheart?

My question would soon be answered. The commentator said hello to the audience, welcoming almost everyone individually, from the procurator fiscals office in Dunfermline to Paul “The Sloth” Ewing, whose first time it was at the Tattoo. Among others welcomed, Judy from England had lost her friend from New Zealand (who could be found at the Lost and Found), and soon everyone was singing Happy Birthday to someone in the North Stand. Suddenly it felt like we weren’t at a military tattoo at all, but at a family gathering reuniting us with old friends and relatives.

And then we stopped singing. The murmurs quietened down. The photographers, who had been huddled up in the middle of the esplanade, split up and took their positions, in what looked like an American football game about to begin. But this time there was no wave. At the sound of the fanfare, out came The Massed Pipes and Drums – 200 pipers and drummers from Scotland, Ireland, Australia, and the Royal Gurkha Battalion. All thoughts of football, Italy and any other Queen but the one of England disappeared out of my mind.

The juicy intro to the Tattoo is best described as “It’s A Small World”, without the headache. Have you ever been to Disneyland and loved the first two minutes of the ride, but then spent the rest of the time wishing it would run out of electricity so the song would stop? Forget that. We are talking about seriously intensive performances, that last around five minutes but feel like five seconds.

These formations look rigorous and impressive close-up, but from a distance they are almost hypnotic. Followed by an energetic performance by Scotland’s Light Division Band and Bugles, whose skipping had almost every photographer running for cover before being ran over, the whole introduction had me at the edge of my seat – partly because I was trying to make sure that my photographer was still alive.

The Russian Cossack State Song and Dance Ensemble is one of many groups from cultures and countries the world over to perform.

The Tattoo isn’t all about marching men and bagpipes, though. One of the most fantastic elements of the Tattoo is having performers from all over the world. This year the Tattoo was guest-starring the Russians, Norwegians and Cook Islanders, all of which can be described as amazing.

The Russian Cossack State Song and Dance Ensemble brought out every maternal instinct in me by dancing, running and jumping around with swords in their hands. Hoping they wouldn’t end up poking out their own or someone else’s eyes, the audience followed the Cossacks with interest as they performed superhuman pirouettes, leaps, back flips and handstands, accompanied by traditional Russian song.

The Cook Islands’ National Youth Dance Team played a selection of traditional Polynesian music while performing cultural dances. Their vibrant and colourful performance took us all to their tropical island as the young men and women dazzled with their magnificent voices and dancing talent. The most memorable performance must have been from the 13-year-old girl singing “Kia Orana”, wishing us all the very best in life. Surely 13-year-olds are not supposed to move like that… I don’t think my hips ever moved with such speed. Oh well, it looked very impressive, and I’m just jealous.

In front of the crimson-lit Castle, cannons smoke as the Tattoo nears its finale.

The night continued in a similarly “we spared no expense” style with performances from the Tattoo Choir, trumpet solos, marches, Irish dancing and a brief history of “individual gallantry by pipers and drummers of the forerunners of The Highlanders”. Soldiers of the 1st Battalion The Highlanders, pipes and drums of 1st Battalion The Highlanders, and The Lowland Band of the Scottish Division told us the story of the Highland bagpipe as the instrument of war accompanied by war tanks.

Having long ago lost track of my photographer, and having almost forgotten that there were people sitting next to me, the commentator asked us all to join hands as we attempted to wind down in the tradition of “Auld Lang Syne”. So we all joined hands, sang along and stomped our feet to the music. Yet, as I watched Italy sway under the lights from the fireworks it soon became deafeningly obvious that the excitement would not dwindle – not for a long, long time.

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