Wojtek: War Hero Bear E-Book

Jenny Robertson

• Herausgeber: Birlinn
• Kategorie: Für Kinder und Jugendliche
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 180

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2014

Beschreibung

When a tiny orphaned bear cub is adopted by Polish soldiers during World War II, little does anyone know that little Wojtek will become one of the bravest fighters of them all. As the soldiers train to take part in some of the fiercest fighting of the war, Wojtek grows up, providing headaches and laughter in equal measure as he learns to drink beer, chase horses and wrestle with his human friends. But at Monte Cassino, as the Allies try and dislodge German troops from their mountain-top eyrie, Wojtek, now a fully signed-up solider with his own rank and number, comes into his own, dodging the bullets to carry ammunition to his comrades as they inch their way to victory. After the war, the Polish solders move to Scotland. Wojtek comes too and soon becomes the centre of attention in a new country. But with hostilities ended, how long can he keep his freedom? Best-selling children's author Jenny Robertson explores the themes of friendship and trust in this moving and inspirational story.

Leseprobe

Jenny Robertson has written numerous books for children and adults – fiction, non-fiction and poetry, often with Polish themes. Her children’s novels and Bible stories have been widely translated and also read on Yorkshire Television and STV. She is currently working on a new series of adventure books for children set in a land at the edge of Europe.

This eBook edition published in 2014 by

Birlinn Limited

West Newington House

Newington Road

Edinburgh

EH9 1QS

www.birlinn.co.uk

Text copyright © Jenny Robertson 2014Illustrations copyright © Tim Archbold 2014

All rights reserved.No part of this publication may be reproduced,stored or transmitted in any form without theexpress written permission of the publisher.

The moral right of Jenny Robertson to be identified as the authorof this work has been asserted by her in accordance withthe Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988

ISBN: 978-1-78027-227-6eBook ISBN: 978-0-85790-797-4

British Library Cataloguing-in-Publication DataA catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library

Contents

  1.

‘Buy a bear? No way!’

  2.

‘His name is Wojtek’

  3.

The wrong knees

  4.

A new Polish soldier

  5.

Escape!

  6.

Stampede!

  7.

Wojtek the Brave

  8.

Fighting for life

  9.

Battle draws closer

10.

Mountain of death

11.

Blood and poppies

12.

Brilliant tactics

13.

Allied attack!

14.

Monkey tricks

15.

‘Across a distant, unknown sea . . .’

16.

A new chapter

Afterword

Timeline

Map: Wojtek’s Journey

Chapter 1

‘Buy a bear? No way!’

1942. The world was at war. A convoy of soldiers from the Polish 2nd Corps travelled across Iran on mountain roads with desperate bends. Cold winds tugged at the canvas covers of the army trucks, but none of the soldiers complained. Only months before they had been prisoners deep in Russia. Despite the discomfort, they were glad to be free and on their way to Palestine, where they would train with the British Army. All they wanted was to win the war and go back home to Poland.

But would they make it as far as Palestine? These rickety trucks were old army issue and the brakes were not the best.

Most of the soldiers held their heads in their hands, staring at their knees to avoid looking out over the cliff edge along which they were driving. But some of the soldiers couldn’t take much more, and tried to attract the driver’s attention. ‘Stop! Halt!’

‘Prrrr! Woa!’ Private Piotr murmured, just like back home when he drove his farm cart and horse. He kept his eyes closed.

Suddenly the driver, a local man, jammed the brake down hard. The truck skidded to a halt on the very edge of a deep gorge. Far below were the crashed remains of trucks that hadn’t made it.

For a while no one spoke. Piotr’s face was chalky white. Some of the other men looked green.

Finally somebody took command. ‘Comfort stop!’

They all climbed out of the truck.

At once a crowd of barefoot children swarmed round the soldiers, chattering away. One of them tugged at Piotr’s sleeve.

Piotr jumped, startled, but his face soon creased into a smile. ‘You kids just pop up out of nowhere like mushrooms after rain.’

He spoke in Polish, and so the boy couldn’t understand him.

The driver lit an American cigarette and inhaled deeply. ‘He hungry,’ he said. The English words came out harshly, like a cough. ‘They all hungry. Tell them, go away.’ He flapped his hand at the child.

Piotr looked blank, unable to understand the man’s broken English, but one of the other Polish soldiers understood and translated.

The boy nodded enthusiastically and rubbed his stomach. ‘Hangree.’ He tried to imitate the foreign word.

‘So we’ll have to find you something to eat,’ said Piotr.

His mate, Stan, grinned. ‘No problem. We’ve got plenty of tinned meat.’ He turned to go and collect food for the children out of the truck, but something caught his eye. ‘Take a look at the sack that kid is carrying, Piotr. There’s something alive in there.’

The boy had dropped a shabby old sack on the ground. Something was moving inside, something that whimpered like a baby.

Piotr crouched down and tugged at the knots that tied up the sack. A black nose appeared.

‘A puppy?’ Piotr pulled the sacking open.

A furry face looked up. A black snout, sharp white teeth and two scared but alert eyes.

Piotr laughed. ‘No, it’s not a not a puppy. Look, Stan, it’s a bear. A little cub. Poor little fellow! He’s terrified.’

‘My bear.’ The boy tapped his chest proudly and pointed up the mountain. ‘Men with guns kill mother. Bang, bang.’

‘Let’s have a look.’ Piotr lifted the cub out of the sack. The little creature uttered sharp yelping sounds, but he became quieter as Piotr took him gently into the crook of his arm.

The boy said something and the driver translated. ‘He ask if you want to buy.’

‘Buy a bear cub? No way,’ Stan said, laughing, but Piotr perched himself on a rock at the roadside and started to smooth the tangles in the bear’s matted fur. ‘Poor little fellow, poor Misiu,’ he said softly in Polish.

‘Watch it, old man,’ Stan warned. ‘Those little teeth look razor sharp. You don’t want to get – what’s it called? – rabies or some other awful disease.’

The boy interrupted. ‘You buy?’ He crouched down next to Piotr, his eyes bright with hope. He held out a hand. ‘You buy?’ he repeated.

Piotr sat for a few moments. Then he nodded. ‘I buy. Here, have this!’ He handed the boy his army knife with multi-purpose blades. The boy’s eyes sparkled as he examined his payment. When Stan handed him a tin of meat and added a bar of chocolate the boy’s smile couldn’t have been any wider.

The cub lifted his nose, curious to find out where this new smell came from, and Piotr laughed. ‘He’s a bright one, that’s for sure!’

‘You’re just a soft touch!’ Stan joked. He handed the boy some coins. ‘That’s for your next meal.’

Unable to believe his good fortune, the boy slipped the money into a pocket, picked up his sack and ran off. The other children drifted away too, proudly showing each other the goodies the soldiers had given them.

The driver had started on another cigarette. ‘You boys give too much,’ he growled.

‘Mister,’ said the soldier who spoke English. ‘We have come out of Russia. Hungry? Yes, and worse than hungry.’

But the driver did not know what the soldier was talking about.

‘Back in truck.’ He gestured towards the vehicle, stamping his cigarette stub into the stony ground.

‘Wait a minute,’ Piotr said. The bear was whimpering, trying to nibble Piotr’s sleeve. The other soldiers gathered round to have a closer look.

‘We’ve got to give this little chap his dinner. He’s starving. Do you think he’d eat tinned meat?’

Stan opened a tin of meat but the cub turned his soft nose away. Next Stan tried a biscuit, but the cub did not want that either.

‘Oh, mother! What a mess! We’ve rescued him, just to have him die on us.’ Stan scratched his head. ‘This isn’t a good idea, Piotr.’

But Piotr went on stroking the cub’s fur. ‘He’s so thin . . . Perhaps he’ll take milk from a bottle.’

The soldiers rummaged around and produced an empty bottle. Stan opened a tin of condensed milk.

The sweet sticky milk smelt good and the cub raised his head, his nose twitching.

‘That’s got him interested,’ Piotr smiled. ‘Come on, little cub. Try this.’

Piotr stuck a piece of rag in the top of the bottle, making sure it soaked up some of the diluted milk inside. The little bear wasn’t sure what to do at first but as soon as he got the rag between his teeth and tasted the milk he sucked away with such contented noises that the soldiers laughed. ‘Well, we know what to feed him with, so that’s one problem solved,’ said Piotr.

But Stan shook his head. ‘There’s a war on, Piotr. We’ve got seriously hard training ahead. Soldiers can’t keep pets.’

‘Some do . . .’

‘A small animal, perhaps, a hamster or a mouse, but not a wild animal. Not a bear, Piotr.’

‘He’ll die if we leave him here. The eagles will make short work of him if hunger doesn’t get him first.’

‘We’d better ask permission then,’ said Stan. ‘Like, Hi, Sergeant Byk! Permission to keep a bear cub! Yes, sergeant, a real bear cub. He’ll be no trouble. And bears don’t eat much . . .’

‘All right, all right!’ Piotr heaved himself back into the truck. It was a bit awkward with a bear and a bottle of milk in his arms.

The driver started the engine.

‘Listen, guys,’ Piotr said, looking round at his friends. ‘It’s going to take four days to get to our training camp in Palestine. Let’s keep this little bear under wraps for now, shall we?’

Piotr was older than most of the other soldiers. He was a popular member of the Corps, and never raised his voice, so the men were surprised at the urgency of his tone. They nodded as the truck lurched forward. Slowly they headed down the mountain, the brakes shrieking as the driver negotiated each treacherous bend.

It was hard to talk above the roar of the engine, but after a few minutes Stan laid his hand on Piotr’s arm. ‘Once we get to Palestine you’ll have to report this little bear. Don’t be surprised if the Army sends him to a zoo.’

Piotr fondled the bear cub’s fur. ‘A zoo would be a sad place for a little cub, born in the wild.’ The cub’s ears twitched and he got to his feet as if he knew they were talking about him. Once he was sure the bottle was empty he circled on Piotr’s knees and settled down with a grunt.

‘Good boy,’ Piotr told him, stroking his little snout, sticky and milky now.

‘You old softie,’ said Stan, smiling. Piotr’s fallen for that little bear big style, he thought. It will be hard for him to give him away to a zoo.

But he decided not say anything more and very soon they had reached the edge of an ancient town called Hamadan and pulled up inside the military camp.

Chapter 2

‘His name is Wojtek’

By the time they had arrived in the base Piotr had thought of a name for his bear cub.

‘His name is Wojtek.’ He pronounced it Voy-tek.

‘Wojtek . . .’ Stan tried the name slowly. ‘Means someone who enjoys a good fight. Sounds okay!’

Piotr grinned. ‘Listen, Stan, I’m glad we rescued him. I bet that boy was planning to train this little bear to do tricks and stuff. I’ve seen performing bears. Their owners pull out their claws and file their teeth. They keep them chained up. It’s pathetic and cruel.’

But Stan had other things on his mind. He pulled their packs from the truck. ‘Come on, Piotr old man, we’re late. It’s time to report to Sergeant Byk.’

Piotr frowned. ‘Sergeant Byk? If he finds out about Wojtek he’ll put a call through to the nearest zoo straight away. Well, good thing the army issued me with a coat three sizes too big.’ He slipped the sleepy bear under his coat and pulled the thick cloth about him, fastening the buttons.

Luckily, Sergeant Byk had gone off duty. It was the other duty sergeant who scribbled their names in the record book, and told them where to find their tent. Then he dismissed them.

Stan had managed to glance at the sergeant’s list.

‘We’re down to share with young Tadek,’ he said as they made their way towards their tent.

Piotr’s face cleared. ‘That’s good! I like Tadek. We can trust him not to blab about Wojtek. Now, what’s going on down there?’ Tucked inside Piotr’s coat, next to his heart, the little bear cub was grunting and stretching. ‘Perfect timing. Some-one’s waking up!’

As soon they found their tent, Piotr put the cub down to let him to explore his new surroundings.

Wojtek was still a bit shy and uncertain, so Piotr folded his coat and spread a towel on top. After a few moments the cub curled up contentedly, but his dark eyes followed the men’s movements as they unpacked their kit.

Piotr carefully slipped a small canvas wallet under his pillow. It was his most precious possession. His only possession. He had sewn it at the army camp in Iran where they had received medical treatment after the bad times in prison in the far Russian north, chopping down trees from dawn to dusk. The wallet contained a photograph of Piotr’s wife, Maria, his son, Marek, and his daughter, Halina, whose long fair hair was tied up in two ribbons.

Piotr couldn’t resist looking at that photograph once more.

Maria, Marek . . . where are you both? And Halina . . . only nine years old when those Red Army guards took us all away.

Stan saw what Piotr was doing and got busy unrolling his bedding. At least he has that picture. I have nothing . . . Then he put the thought from his mind. ‘Where’s our young friend going to sleep?’ he asked.

Piotr was jolted back to the present and replaced the photograph in the wallet. He smiled at the sight of the bear cub snuggled on his army coat.

‘Let’s give him another bottle of milk and then we’ll worry about a bed.’

Immediately the tin was open, Wojtek smelt the milk, clambered on to Piotr’s knee, and clasped the bottle between his paws. He was slurping away happily when their tent mate, Tadek, pulled open the tent flap and came in for the night. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

‘What on earth . . . ?’

Stan shook his hand. ‘Don’t worry, Tad, you’re not seeing things. Farmer Piotr has just opened a zoo.’

Piotr laughed. ‘Hiya, Tadek! Come and meet Wojtek.’

Tadek came closer and squatted beside the little bear. ‘A-maz-ing! Where did you find him?’

Stan and Piotr told their story.

‘I’ve never seen a real bear, apart from in a zoo,’ said Tadek. ‘That bear was pretty huge. How big do you think Wojtek will grow?’

Piotr shook his head. ‘We’ll have to wait and see.’

‘If we’re allowed to keep him,’ Stan warned, and explained that they were planning to hide Wojtek until they reached Palestine.

‘He’s so little and he’s got such intelligent eyes. Of course I won’t tell anyone,’ Tadek promised.

Piotr smiled. ‘I knew we could count on you. You’re right about those eyes, Tad. He’s scared of us, but he wants to trust us, don’t you little cub? Well, we want the best for you, too. Here, Tad, have a hold of our little friend while I get his bed ready.’

Tadek took the bear cub on to his knee. At first the young soldier held the cub awkwardly until Wojtek gave a soft baby squeak and Tadek’s face lit up with joy as he stroked him.

Meanwhile, Piotr lined a tin bathtub with clean towels and put it in his corner of the tent. ‘There you are, Wojtek! You can sleep there!’

He put the cub into his new bed, watched him settle, stretched out on his own camp bed and soon all three men were fast asleep.

Wojtek was tired and with a full tummy was ready to sleep, but the bath towels were not furry like his mother’s soft coat. He circled several times, trying to make himself comfortable, but it was no good. The little cub clambered out of the bathtub, padded across the floor and climbed into Piotr’s bed, snuggling against him just as he had nestled against his mother in the den high in the mountains that was now so far away.

Turning in his sleep, Piotr felt the bear cub’s furry body next to him. Rex, he thought, patting the warm fur gently. Deep in his dreams, he was back home in his farmhouse in Poland with his dog in bed beside him. ‘What are you doing in bed? You know you’re not allowed, Rexie . . . but it’s so good to have you beside me . . .’ He pulled the little bear closer as his dreams darkened.

You tried to warn us, Rex, didn’t you? You knew it was all wrong when those Red Army guards tricked me into opening the front door at three o’clock in the morning.

They gave us only half an hour to pack our things . . .

It was winter time two years before. The temperature was way below freezing and the snow reached as high as the windows of Piotr’s farmhouse. Rex had been growling deep in his throat when Piotr had wakened to hear knocking at the door. It was one of the neighbours. ‘Piotr, it’s me, Ivan. Can you help me, please?’

Thinking there must be something seriously wrong for his neighbour to be bothering him in the middle of the night, Piotr had opened the door. Three Red Army guards pushed their way into his home, followed by Piotr’s neighbour, Ivan – who couldn’t look Piotr in the face – and Pasha Kravchuk, another villager.

‘Get up! You’re on the list!’ Kravchuk snapped.

List? What list? This must be some sort of bad dream!

The guards carried lanterns. Yellow candlelight wavered over their unshaven faces, half hidden by the peaks of their caps. Their rifles had come out of the last war, the one that would soon be called the First World War. Piotr had fought in that war and knew how to use a rifle like that, but on 1st September 1939, when the German army had invaded Poland, Piotr’s teenage son Marek had taken his Dad’s old rifle down from the loft and gone off to fight. Farmer Piotr had stayed behind to work on the land.

Piotr had not seen Marek since and two weeks later, on 17th September, the Russian Red Army, under the orders of a ruthless dictator, General Joseph Stalin in Moscow, had marched into Poland from the east.

The arrival of the Red Army along with Stalin’s secret police changed everything – and now these Red Army men had forced their way into the Prendyś family’s home. So that’s why Rex had been growling so menacingly!

‘Shut that dog up!’

Piotr put his hand on the dog’s neck. He wanted to say, ‘Go for them, Rex! Send them off!’

But what was the point? Those rifles were ready to shoot. Piotr turned to his neighbours and tried to speak calmly.

‘What are you doing here, Pasha Kravchuk? And you, Ivan? Didn’t my wife sit up all night with your wife the time she was sick? Didn’t I help you bring your little calf into the world last spring?’

‘Sorry, Piotr,’ Ivan backed into the shadows, but Kravchuk spoke coldly. ‘Times have changed, Comrade Prendyś. Your farm belongs to us now.’

‘Hurry up! Get packed,’ the Red Army leader snarled. ‘You’re wasting time.’

‘Get packed?’ Piotr grabbed Kravchuk by the arm. ‘Whatever for?’

Kravchuk shook his hand off. ‘You’ll find out soon enough.’

‘Take warm things, Mrs Maria,’ Ivan was whispering to Piotr’s wife. ‘Take as much food as you can.’

‘What do you mean? Where are we going?’ Piotr watched as Maria pulled on her warmest coat and wrapped a sheepskin coat around Halina who stood in a complete daze, still half asleep, confused and terrified.

Piotr tried to reassure his daughter but a guard grabbed his shoulder and whammed his fist across Piotr’s mouth. ‘Big man, eh. Too old for call-up so you sent your son away to fight instead?’

Piotr wiped the blood from his lips. ‘He went freely as a soldier for Poland.’ It hurt to speak.

‘There’s no Polish army now – and no such country as Poland.’

So much had happened between that dreadful night and now. Still fast asleep, Private Piotr moaned and turned in his narrow camp bed. The memories were never so very far away.

Rex, my faithful friend. You didn’t give up on us even when they pushed us out into the freezing night.

The faithful dog had followed his family through waist deep snow to the railway tracks where a long line of unheated cattle trucks waited to take Polish families away.

No one knew then where they were going or why they had been forced from their homes in the middle of that wintry night.

The little honey-coloured bear cub had wriggled half out of the rough army blanket by now. He nuzzled his wet nose against Piotr’s face. Piotr opened his eyes and smiled sleepily. ‘So it was you who was here beside me all night, you little rascal!’

Stan and Tadek laughed when they saw that Wojtek had curled up in Piotr’s bed.

Suddenly a bugle rang out. The cub dived under the blanket, trembling and whimpering. Piotr stroked him, but he knew that if his plan was to work, he had to be firm with this bear.