Fun in the Field

It's 9.30pm. We picked up our route two hours ago, drove to the Cull Zone and started our evening perambulations. We've done this before. It's less nerve racking now but just as exciting. Until now we've seen nothing. Are we actually achieving anything? I don't know. I hope so.

It's a beautiful clear night. Chilly but not Arctic style. The moon is orange and keeping watch from above. We take a moment to appreciate the stars, torches off. And breathe. We have work to do. Whilst we walk these footpaths, so do contractors with weapons. They're allowed to be here. So are we. Time to be visible. Torches on.

We find a Badger sett. No traps, but then we're still not experienced patrollers, maybe we miss them. We know it's an active sett. We know they're not safe, but keep our fingers crossed and move on. We walk the trails, keeping a close eye on the map, making sure we don't get lost in the dark. Regardless of where you stand in the Badger debate, no one wants to upset landowners by traipsing into the wrong field, or at least we don't. It's a navigational challenge. Your range of sight is reduced to distances that aren't helpful in finding your way. We manage.

We hit a road and take a break, it's a nice evening for a walk. It was pouring the other week. That was character building. As biscuits disappear we hear shots from behind us. Damn. Frustration. We just came from there, they waited for us to pass. Quiet for a moment whilst we hope to Whatever We Believe In that they missed. It was probably back near that sett.

Carry on, there's more ground to cover. A pickup truck passes us, it slows down then tears off into the night. We wander on, chatting, being visible. The pickup passes again in the other direction, slowing again when level with these midnight wanderers. Wish they'd stop discussing horror movies. I tell them that. The conversation moves to Christmas. I tell them to go back to horror movies.

We get a tip off that someone's hoping to shoot roundabouts where we are. They can't do it whilst we're here. Satisfaction in small amounts until we hear another shot somewhere over yonder. We've split slightly, migrated into pairs for conversation and safer walking at the side of the road. Our pickup truck pulls up to the girls in front, slows, window down. A man with all the allure of a cowpat is talking angrily at my friends. They don't bite the bait, they absorb the colourful language admirably, but then they're colourful people anyway. I can't help but feel a little nervous though. He crawls past us, but brings his goading with him. His vocabulary is limited but it's clear he has very strong opinions about our adventure in Britain's beautiful countryside. He enters a property and leaves us behind.

A realisation is starting to set in, but it doesn't have time to settle because a policeman steps out of the car behind. I hadn't even noticed there was one. Are we alright? Yes, actually we are. Because although that man was inflicting Threatening Behaviour (the police man's terminology, not mine), there's probably a fairly understandable reason for his rage tonight:

He didn't get his Badger.

We made a difference tonight. You can too.

Dear Badgers

If you're a badger living in Dorset, Somerset or Gloucestershire at the moment, you're in trouble. I'm writing to inform you that you're being subject to a cull. You may have noticed some traps near your setts, or perhaps members of your family have gone missing. Well they're probably gone for good.

The British Human Government have decided to remove up to 2,000 of you within the cull zones during a six week period. We are currently in the middle of that period, and I promise you that there are people out there at night trying to help you guys. People are giving up their sleeping time to trudge the soggy footpaths in the countryside, looking for traps, hoping to prevent you from getting caught. Please don't blame us all.

I appreciate that you are a Protected Species in the UK, and that if I were to do you harm I could be prosecuted. But there are people out to get you, bearing special licences to shoot you in the night, or more conveniently, trap you in a metal box and leave you there to be shot at dawn. These people probably drive BMWs to feel better about themselves, but that's by the by really.

I know it's not your fault, and that you've become embroiled in a political war against Bovine Tuberculosis. I know that culling you won't solve the problem and that the government have ignored advice from their scientific advisors in favour of placating the NFU. I know that they've gone so far down this ridiculous road that they can't find space to turn around, despite the fact that they are lost. But there's nothing I can do about it. That's what's so frustrating, that you are being slaughtered out there tonight, for no real reason.

Culling badgers has not reduced Bovine Tb in the last pilot cull areas.

Scientists appointed by the government have assessed the cull as ineffective, and inhumane, and have called for an end to it.

It's costing us humans with jobs £6,000 to kill each one of you.

There are animals being shot in the night, and it's not achieving a thing.

I'm sorry for the state of our country Badgers, and for the way we're treating one of our most iconic mammal species. I'll be out on the footpaths tomorrow night. We'll do what we can Badgers. The best thing you can do right now is stay at home and avoid metal boxes and people with guns.

Good luck...