Marshal Radetzky's Majorettes

Even though we live in the city centre we still seem to miss all sorts of public spectacles. We missed the veteran car show in the main square the other week and topless mermaid tank driving ballet. Actually, I made up that last one, but it might as well have occurred because we would have certainly missed it too. What we need is an events coordinator (female candidates please send resumé and full-size full-length photo including vital statistics) or a diary.

It must be said that the past few weeks have been a little quiet. August seems to be sleepy holiday time where the streets are more empty than usual and the few locals that are left work until the day to end so they can pop to the pub for a good old whinge (a proud national pasttime).

But now that September and the final quarter of the year beckons things have begun to pick up a little and on this last weekend of August we witnessed the magnificent 12th jubilee of the Celebration of Marshal Radetzky. For those who know not this name – fie, shame and phooey! Herewith is a brief bio:

Born in 1766 to a noble Czech family he became an mustachioed Austrian general distinguishing himself mostly against the cheeky French and dastardly Italians, and not without some bravery – being hit in one encounter by no less than 5 bullets! Success in command prompted his intentions to modify and modernise the Austrian army. Treasury resistance to these changes meant resignation although he retained a considerable influential position. He fought against Napoleon (perhaps not in person) and entered Paris in 1814 (sounds painful). Resisting being put out to pasture, he commanded in Italy where he died in the saddle in 1858 still putting down revolutionaries at a mere 91 – and they say you get more right wing as you get older. Such was his impact then and since that people still dress up as him at military festivities (see pic below).

The only reasons I can see that this reactionary old fuddy-duddy is still celebrated thus are because he is a exalted son of the Bohemian/Czech soil and because of Strauss's famous Radetsky March (see Karajan trying to give it dignity in the clip below). So people who like to clap-along-a-Strauss are fondly reminded of the good old boy who liked to string 'em up because bullets were too good for rebel scum.

The Czech military have two barracks and a military hospital not more than 100 paces from our front door and although there are frequent visits to the town by officious and starchy uniformed ladies and gentlemen, it must be said that their presence is felt only when their stoddery camouflaged trucks hold up the traffic.

True to form we missed yesterday's exciting majorette parade and last night's fireworks (what can I say, I had a soufflé in the oven) so we chose to see what was going on today.

Such was their volume, the military bands could be heard before the square was reached, but as with all things associated with the military here appearance seems to matter more than substance. The military bands from Holland, Austria, Slovakia and the Czech Republic then played their bit before honoured guests (sat in iron-on drab olive uniform and more scrambled egg than is healthy) and their important wives on centre stage. Minutes later each band was given an honored exit by some stompy, twirly majorettes that had excitedly just stepped out of Thunderbird 2.

The combination of marching bands and uniforms of yesteryear probably makes a lot of sense in the Czech mind – dressing up to pay service to a long military tradition subsumed within the Austro-Hungarian Empire for good or ill speaks of past glories before the nasty days of intense nationalism and eventual German domination from 1938-45, to say nothing of the equally hateful communist era. It was something to be proud of.

A handsome four-in-hand carriage resting nearby made its way to the square to escort the old Austro-Hungarian Empire-esque faux dignitaries and inject a bit of a carnival atmosphere.

The bemused people of Olomouc sat on benches, settles and chairs on the other three sides of the square, presumably enjoying the spectacle for what it was and not being mindful of the less-than benign role soldiery had on suppression of the masses before 1990. One elderly lady dressed entirely in white with a large pink scarf presumably thought the occasion nothing more than a cheerful noisy nuisance and walked right across the parade ground to continue with her important shopping.

At the conclusion the re-enactors (above) stood around for photographs and the company of men hitherto posing stood to attention, presented arms and fired: I wonder if they have a license to carry, load and discharge weapons in a built-up area during daylight hours without health and safety goggles and ear protectors and safety cordon.

After health-giving beers and pizza, pastries and coffee (and a fairly heavy downpour), the glorious matinee began. The Solvakian band's stint, that started with the bloody Radetzky March again, accompanied the underwear-free majorettes who bounced for all their worth, so much so that the leader of the local batallion of Central Moravian Winos and Meths Drinkers Brigade left his leering companions in the audience and approached the lovely troop leader, presumably to ask her advice on how best to twirl his baton. Her abashed withdrawl from the conversation left him somewhat flummoxed only to be unkindly asked to leave the square by the angry troop supervisor and swiftly brought to the attention of stewards and awaiting police. I'm sure it was all perfectly innocent and could have been the start of something lovely...

The Honour Guard of the Armed Forces of the Czech Republic then performed spangly drill with bayonette-fixed shiny rifles, a spectacle that much delighted the crowd. I must say that although they were good I've seen better at the Royal Tournament and Edinburgh Tattoo – maybe I've been spoilt all these years.

And so with more than enough military music in the ears and certainly enough majorette thighs in the eyes, there was nothing more to do than retire gracefully in the direction of home. Although of all the military bands we heard today the Czechs and Slovaks seemed the best, the evening concert of liturgical music in the church of St Maurice simply didn't appeal (maybe it was the beer) and the walk through the park did us good – we missed the fireworks again tonight. The Czech Army has not invaded anyone in the last 1000 years or so, but as part of the United Nations have taken part in action in Desert Storm in Iraq and ISAF in Afghanistan. But perhaps Al Qaeda would melt away into nothing should the military bands heard today choose to win the hearts and minds of the citizens of Basra by simply musically marching down the high street. Maybe NATO should consider calming the Pashtun tribesmen with a full broadside of General Radetzky accompanied by 20 majorettes in full stomp.