The Incredible Heroism of Tank Man That Made Tiananmen Square Unforgettable
A Chinese-made Type 69 tank, when it is battle-ready, weighs about 35 tons. At 2.8m tall it towers a good meter over an average sized person. Even when it is moving at half its top speed of 50km/h its 580 horsepower engine is sufficient to make the ground tremble. A column of these tanks, in line, is an intimidating sight. The belching of fumes from the diesel engine’s exhaust, the sound of the caterpillar tracks as the tank moves and the sheer bulk of all that hulking metal implacably bearing down upon you must be sufficient to make a person freeze in their tracks. These are weapons of war designed to intimidate as much as kill and it’s a task they do exceedingly well.
Moving purposefully, with few visible signs of them being under human control tanks are designed to frighten and demoralize battle-hardened soldiers. They tap into our worst atavistic fears to embody not just technology capable of dealing death and destruction from what appears to be an impregnable hulk, but also a malevolent agency, a presence, that emits a heartless, unfeeling sense towards all those who oppose it. All those who stand in its path.
A human being, male, slight of built, of average height, weighing perhaps no more than say, 70kg presents as much of a threat to such a vehicle of war as a bug does to a human.
