The Mole as a Weapon of War (CAC Edition)
Created | Updated Apr 6, 2006
Note; This has been featured in the UnderGuide
As you will be aware, the use of animals in warfare is nothing new; Porpoises and dolphins have been trained to attach mines to vessels, and the Russians trained dogs to run under German tanks with sticks of dynamite strapped to their backs.
What was the genesis of these daring ideas ? What follows is, unfortunately, absolutely true....
My dear Grandfather, a most forward-thinking man, conducted a number of experiments with captive moles during the Thirties. He saw the tremendous potential of a beast which could tunnel almost undetected behind enemy lines, there to surface and blow itself and the foe to smithereens.
His first step was to selectively breed larger and more compliant moles than were commonly encountered. Initial attempts to cross "tarpa europaea" with golden retrievers sadly were unsuccessful, the hounds being more inclined to eat, rather than bonk, their prospective partners. Attempts to cross the mole with domestic cats, pigs, and squirrels proved little more fruitful, and resulted only in some disquiet in the local press.
My Grandfather eventually decided to follow the old maxim that if you wanted a job done properly, you had to do it yourself. Some months later, the first litter of mole/human crossbreeds was born.
Unfortunately, no photographs of these creatures have survived. My Grandfather's journal entries describe them as being about the size of a corgi, with larger than usual (red) noses, and distinctly pronounced pot-bellies. They were, he says, of a generally docile nature, content to sleep the greater portion of the time, and were very keen on human company, often settling happily by his feet.
Training proceeded well, the little scamps being most obedient to the human voice. My GF reports that they were prodigiously quick burrowers, covering anything up to half an acre in less than three minutes. In time, GF had trained them to surface on the blast of a whistle, lie still, and pull a string attached to a pack placed upon their shoulders. Their reward for these feats was a good bag of slugs, and a bowl of Malmsey.
And so the day finally arrived when GF, satisfied with the dummy runs, decided to try the little fellows out with real explosive in the packs. He boxed up four of the largest and most intelligent specimens, and set out in the car for a suitably secluded patch of local parkland.
Whistle around his neck, he set all the eager beasts loose, directing them in a straight line into the distance.
The trial transcripts record in some detail what transpired next; I shall paraphrase here.
It seems that a group of Girl Guides, out on a jamboree and intent on winning their mushroom identification badges, emerged from a copse situated to the North-West of GF just as the beasts were drawing level. One of the survivors testified that the girls were alerted to the possibility of peril by the sight of brown streaks arrowing through the pasture towards them, like earth-bound torpedoes. She was able to recall little else, she said, until she woke up in the Amputee Ward.
What had gone wrong ?
You see, GF was always rather keen on female company and it seems that the mole hybrids had inherited one or two more of my GF's genes than was advisable. Being prior to that day entirely unaccustomed to the presence of female flesh, on catching first whiff of the young ladies the beasts became maddened with lust, and swerved immediately from their set course, ignoring GF's frantic whistling. Upon reaching the squealing and terrified youngsters, the moles burst from the ground, threw themselves upon the girls, and ignited their packs.
My GF died in prison, a broken man.
The trial received considerable media attention, and word of my GF's experiments soon reached Stalin who, it would appear, made several admiring references to him during subsequent meetings of the Politburo, and duly instructed that the Army look into the matter.
The rest, dear friends, is history.
As you will be aware, the use of animals in warfare is nothing new; Porpoises and dolphins have been trained to attach mines to vessels, and the Russians trained dogs to run under German tanks with sticks of dynamite strapped to their backs.
What was the genesis of these daring ideas ? What follows is, unfortunately, absolutely true....
My dear Grandfather, a most forward-thinking man, conducted a number of experiments with captive moles during the Thirties. He saw the tremendous potential of a beast which could tunnel almost undetected behind enemy lines, there to surface and blow itself and the foe to smithereens.
His first step was to selectively breed larger and more compliant moles than were commonly encountered. Initial attempts to cross "tarpa europaea" with golden retrievers sadly were unsuccessful, the hounds being more inclined to eat, rather than bonk, their prospective partners. Attempts to cross the mole with domestic cats, pigs, and squirrels proved little more fruitful, and resulted only in some disquiet in the local press.
My Grandfather eventually decided to follow the old maxim that if you wanted a job done properly, you had to do it yourself. Some months later, the first litter of mole/human crossbreeds was born.
Unfortunately, no photographs of these creatures have survived. My Grandfather's journal entries describe them as being about the size of a corgi, with larger than usual (red) noses, and distinctly pronounced pot-bellies. They were, he says, of a generally docile nature, content to sleep the greater portion of the time, and were very keen on human company, often settling happily by his feet.
Training proceeded well, the little scamps being most obedient to the human voice. My GF reports that they were prodigiously quick burrowers, covering anything up to half an acre in less than three minutes. In time, GF had trained them to surface on the blast of a whistle, lie still, and pull a string attached to a pack placed upon their shoulders. Their reward for these feats was a good bag of slugs, and a bowl of Malmsey.
And so the day finally arrived when GF, satisfied with the dummy runs, decided to try the little fellows out with real explosive in the packs. He boxed up four of the largest and most intelligent specimens, and set out in the car for a suitably secluded patch of local parkland.
Whistle around his neck, he set all the eager beasts loose, directing them in a straight line into the distance.
The trial transcripts record in some detail what transpired next; I shall paraphrase here.
It seems that a group of Girl Guides, out on a jamboree and intent on winning their mushroom identification badges, emerged from a copse situated to the North-West of GF just as the beasts were drawing level. One of the survivors testified that the girls were alerted to the possibility of peril by the sight of brown streaks arrowing through the pasture towards them, like earth-bound torpedoes. She was able to recall little else, she said, until she woke up in the Amputee Ward.
What had gone wrong ?
You see, GF was always rather keen on female company and it seems that the mole hybrids had inherited one or two more of my GF's genes than was advisable. Being prior to that day entirely unaccustomed to the presence of female flesh, on catching first whiff of the young ladies the beasts became maddened with lust, and swerved immediately from their set course, ignoring GF's frantic whistling. Upon reaching the squealing and terrified youngsters, the moles burst from the ground, threw themselves upon the girls, and ignited their packs.
My GF died in prison, a broken man.
The trial received considerable media attention, and word of my GF's experiments soon reached Stalin who, it would appear, made several admiring references to him during subsequent meetings of the Politburo, and duly instructed that the Army look into the matter.
The rest, dear friends, is history.
