The famed Edinburgh military tattoo is currently in Australia — and this Saturday night, more than 1,500 performers from around the world are due to take part over a four-day run at the Sydney Football stadium. It’s only the third time in the Tattoo’s history that this breathtaking event has been performed outside of Edinburgh. Today The Scotsman quotes Major General Euan Loudon, the tattoo’s producer:

“Australia has always been good to the Tattoo. I can think of no better way of kicking off our diamond jubilee year in 2010 than by returning to the city and country which opened their hearts to us so warmly when we visited last time round.”

And in amongst the feverish preparation, gruelling rehearsals and endless publicity merry-go-round, one man has been tweeting the story behind the story of the Tattoo. A little jaded, a little weary, this band member’s musings, including labelling the squadron leader “tone deaf” have been entertaining us, oh, for days now:

– I am now part of the problem. I just saw an unattended set of bagpipes and didn’t feed them into a combine harvester.

– Elderly gent: Were you on the HMAS Penguin in 1957? 25 y/o Navy musician: No Elderly gent: You look like you’ve had a hard life.

– We’ve arrived 2 1/2 hrs before the gig and the are PEOPLE ALREADY LINING UP! They’ll be pissed when they find out it’s not Rose Tattoo.

– First actual performance this evening. Tone Deaf has waxed his ‘tache and is looking his best. Which isn’t saying much.

– Tone deaf Sqn Leader seems fazed on the big stage, forgetting where Waltzing Matilda finishes. No doubt due to it being an unfamiliar tune.

We approached the underground member of the Tattoo to give us a sense of the anticipation surrounding tomorrow’s night performance.

Crikey proudly presents, @edintattoo2010:

The Edinburgh Military Tattoo. It’s the only show in town with a cast bigger than Beijing, a suspected tone deaf musical director, and firearms. You adore it. We abhor it. Perhaps the only other affair where the level of enjoyment between audience member and performer is so vastly different, is a circus animal act.

But even they get drugs before being mistreated. For the Australian contingent’s 5 ½ minutes of marching glory, there’s been 13 hours of solid rehearsal. 13 hours. Military efficiency.

If anything goes awry, it won’t so much be for lack of rehearsal, as lack of spirit. But that’s just the Oz display. The entire grueling two hour plus show has had no less than eight complete rehearsal runs, adhering to the ancient military maxim: “Leave nothing for the gig.”

Also, throughout the daily grind, complete strangers seem compelled to yell at you. If you’re in a uniform, you’re apparently fair game. I suggest we all need a gentle briefing from Sergeant Manners.

And then there’s the bagpipes. Dear God, the bagpipes. Just one of them is about as pleasant as a dentist’s drill but approximately 271 times louder. They have neither predators nor a conscience. Who ever invented them should be buried next to J. Robert Oppenheimer. You get the idea. It’s an horrendous affair.

But enough with the negativity. As Crikey strives to be ‘fair and balanced,’ it’s time for some edifying reportage.

A little bit on the cast:

– Massed pipe bands: see previous bagpipe reference and multiply it to the power of nausea.

– ‘Top Secret’ Drum Corps: The Swiss should think a little more about who they employ to carry these top secret messages. A precision drum corps will almost always give the game away.

– Chinese People’s Liberation Army: Visually stunning, with a virtuosic trombone rendition of Flight of the Bumblebee. You will not hear that everyday.

– Norwegian Guard and Drill Team: Scandinavian Jarheads. Remarkably hygienic.

– USA Fifes and Drums: Very high-pitched instruments. If playing their CDs, don’t be surprised to find your dog gnawing off his own leg.

– Massed British Military Bands: Conservative marching display but a wall of sound so formidable, it could knock the genitals off a bronze statue.

– Australian Military Massed Bands: Token gesture by the organisers. Finale – Slightly longer than Wagner’s Ring Cycle. Trite.

The new castle replica is a 1:1 scale model of the original in Scotland. Quite impressive and intimidating until you get closer to it and discover that it could be destroyed by butting your cigarette out on it – as probably happened to the previous one.

They’ve labelled it “Celebrating 60 years of Valour, Mateship, Glory” for reasons of which I’m unsure. In my camp at least, there’s very little celebration, referred glory, valour. Mateship however, comes in droves. Misery loves company.

One upside to the bagpipe plague is the associated garment. The kilt. The mystique around its contents is astonishing. You won’t see a kilt wearer demonstrating the limbo, or Cossack dancing, oh no. They just tease you, aided by the occasional revealing gust, and strategic placement of the sporran.

The event has huge appeal, so drink it all in, but when you’re singing Auld Lang Syne into your warm pint of Bishop’s Finger, all I ask is you spare us a thought. Remember the little people.

For those following my work on Twitter and would like to identify me on the ground, I will be the one in a military uniform, carrying either a musical instrument or a weapon. Or a horse.