Wojtek the Bear [paperback] (5 page)

The men were remarkably tolerant of his misdeeds, even though tidying up the mayhem Wojtek would leave in his wake created a lot of additional work for them.

When not falling foul of pesky army regulations, Wojtek led the life of an officer and a gentleman. Most mornings he left Peter’s tent before Reveille and went for a walk round the camp,
hoping to encounter the morning’s duty NCO, who usually had a biscuit or some sweetmeat for him. Then he would amble over to the cookhouse for breakfast, which included cereal, milk, bread
and marmalade, biscuits and whatever else he could scrounge. Having been weaned at around six months of age, he was omnivorous, like his breed, and had a passion for fruit and honey, the latter
given to him by the men from their own rations. After breakfast he would then head off looking for someone to play with. Being of a most amiable disposition, the Happy Warrior didn’t mind
whether the playmates were human or animal.

In his early days as a cub, one of his favourite pals was a large Dalmatian dog which belonged to the camp’s British liaison officer. From their first meeting they were firm friends. They
would tear through the camp, the bear in hot pursuit of the Dalmatian. Just as Wojtek looked like he’d catch the dog it would suddenly skid to a halt and, unable to stop himself as quickly,
Wojtek would go tumbling head over heels. Neither dog nor bear cub ever tired of their boisterous game, and the outcome was always the same.

Despite having settled well into army routine, it was at Gedera that Wojtek made his one and only attempt to escape from his companions. Why he went AWOL can
only be
guessed. Perhaps he was bored because all of his companions were busy about their duties and he had no one to entertain him. Or perhaps he had picked up some scent that reminded him of his former
mountain home – bears have an exceedingly keen sense of smell. The simplest explanation is that he was trying to escape the interminable desert heat that, in the summer months, was often so
fierce it was impossible for troops to carry out military training manoeuvres. There is no doubt that Wojtek, with his thick fur, was at a distinct disadvantage when it came to keeping cool.

As a cub he had been used to the temperate climate of Hamadan province and the lower slopes of the Zagros Mountains. However, at Gedera, situated well inland and only slightly above sea level,
the summer temperature ranged from 32ºC to 38ºC (90ºF to 100ºF) and in Iraq it was even higher, with the thermometer often hitting 48ºC (118ºF) in July and August. For
Wojtek, it must have been unbearable.

In the summer at Gedera he would lie in the shadows under the water bowser, begging passing squaddies to turn on the valve. He managed to get a couple of soakings every day. When he was younger,
the men dug a pit for him and filled it with water; he would lie in it long past the time it had been absorbed by the sandy earth, enjoying the coolness of the mud wallow that was left. In
extremely hot weather he would remain in the mud for hours rather than face the fierce rays of the sun or hunt around for shade – which wasn’t much cooler. In particularly hot weather
his wallow would be filled with water twice a day.

Whatever triggered his escape bid, with typical ursine cunning Wojtek chose his moment well. It was some time
before his absence from the camp was noticed. Immediately
Peter and a couple of his colleagues, having ascertained from others the direction in which he was last seen heading, set off in hot pursuit. By now the runaway had put several miles of desert
between him and the camp. In an inspired move, Peter commandeered the water bowser, rather than an army truck, for the chase.

When they finally caught up with him, loping towards his natal home, it was clear from his determined demeanour that he wasn’t in any mood for being halted. Peter, however, released a
little water from the bowser and called him by name. When the scent of the water reached him, Wojtek quickly capitulated, trading his freedom for a good soaking. Wet and cool, he was putty in
Peter’s hands, following the bowser the whole way back to camp in hopes of getting another drenching.

All was forgiven and Wojtek was still allowed his freedom. It was not long, however, before the mischievous bear was once again the centre of attention for all the wrong reasons, this time in a
large Allied forces military camp in Iraq, to which the company was delivering supplies. In a glorious escapade reminiscent of the television series
Mash
, Wojtek went on the prowl, exploring
his new quarters. His insatiable curiosity was aroused when he spotted a washing line of women soldiers’ underwear wafting in the breeze. Intrigued, he investigated this phenomenon and stole
the lot. The half-dressed women, who had never ever encountered a very large bear in their camp, hid behind a tent, too terrified to intervene. They watched helplessly as Wojtek made off with his
prizes wrapped round his head like some strange-looking washerwoman.

The women, part of a Polish signals unit, were furious because, after months of living rough in their isolated camp in the dusty desert, they had only recently taken a
rare trip to Tel Aviv to acquire the much-cherished underwear. The underwear was recovered by Peter and his companions before Wojtek, in a spirit of scientific inquiry, had an opportunity to shred
the women’s lingerie with his sharp claws. The stolen goods were returned with some difficulty in keeping straight faces. Later they took Wojtek round to apologise – as sneaky an excuse
as I’ve ever heard for young men to meet young women. Wojtek dutifully played his part, hiding his snout behind his large forepaws and whimpering piteously. Then he peeked out from behind his
paws, his bright button eyes searching the girls’ faces to see what sort of effect he was having on them. Needless to say, they were charmed. But thereafter, in camps where the Poles were
sharing facilities with strangers and army outfits which didn’t know the bear, a couple of soldiers were assigned the task of acting as Wojtek’s minders.

However, the wily bear was still capable of giving his companions the slip when the notion took him. Again, it happened when the company was briefly stationed in Iraq on transport duty. On
Christmas Eve he had participated in the Poles’ traditional feast, opened his numerous presents and imbibed probably more wine than was strictly good for him. Whether it was the effects of
the alcohol, no one knows, but in the wee small hours Wojtek staged his own private party. He slipped away from his sleeping companions and stealthily made his way to the camp food store. There,
with considerable thoroughness, he explored the contents of everything he could open, gorging himself on jams and fruits and whatever else he could find. In his
search, he
ruined copious amounts of flour, grain and other comestibles, trampling them everywhere. He spilled cooking oil, tore down storage shelves and completely trashed the place. It looked as if a
tornado had swept through it. Instead of enjoying their brief leisure time free of any duties, the men had to spend several hours making everything shipshape once more.

If it was at all possible, the men generally would conceal Wojtek’s breaches of discipline and good order from the officers, reckoning what they didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them.
Equally, the officers often turned a blind eye to many of his misdemeanours. But this particular crime was too big to ignore so Wojtek had to accept his punishment: a very firm dressing-down from
Peter plus peg-and-chain confinement for the day. Fortunately for an extremely chastened Wojtek, his sentence was commuted because it was Christmas Day and he soon regained his normal freedom.

However, if his crime sheet was steadily growing, there were occasions when Wojtek redeemed himself. It was actually his obsession for water that led to his finest hour in June 1943: the day he
captured an Arab spy.

As an adult bear, Wojtek would take a communal shower with the men every day in the ablutions hut. It must have looked a preposterous sight – a very large bear in the middle of naked men
lathering themselves with soap while he jostled against them, trying to hog the shower heads. He had very quickly worked out that all he had to do to get a shower was to pull the string and the
water would cascade over him. This he would do over and over again until stopped. Water was a precious commodity in the Allied forces’ camps in the Middle East. Every drop had
to be brought in by water tanker. Wojtek’s usage was so profligate that eventually he had to be barred from the showers and the door locked. Undeterred, Wojtek would hang around
outside the ablutions hut like an addict, in hopes that someone using the showers would forget to lock the door or take pity on him and let him in for a water fix.

At the time the company was camped near the desert town of Kirkuk in northern Iraq. Strategically, it was extremely important because of its huge oilfields, to which Kurds, Turks and Iraqi Arabs
all laid claim. The arrival of Allied forces in this volatile, oil-rich area, already full of ethnic tensions, was not at all welcome. Out for his usual early-morning stroll around camp, Wojtek
discovered to his delight that someone apparently had forgotten to relock the shower door. In a flash, the bear was inside.

Suddenly a terrified shriek pierced the air, galvanising the camp into action. Armed guards raced to the scene. There they found Wojtek cornering an Arab man in the showers. With tears running
down his face, the prisoner pleaded with the guards to save him. He was marched off for interrogation where he admitted he had been spying. To escape detection after breaching the perimeter, he had
picked the lock of the shower hut and crept inside, intending to sneak out again when the coast was clear to locate the camp’s weapons arsenal. The Arab’s spying mission was to conduct
a reconnaissance for a raiding party from a nearby village the following night. However, no battle plan survives the first contact with the enemy, as he was to find out. No sooner had he crept into
the ablutions hut than Wojtek was in behind him. The encounter with Wojtek so unnerved the intruder – doubtless his interrogators also threatened to renew his acquaintance with
the bear – that he speedily divulged all the names of his co-conspirators. Based on his confession, the dissidents were quickly rounded up in a series of lightning raids. As for
Wojtek, he was fêted like a lord and given sweetmeats and beer. As a special treat he was allowed to go for an extra-long shower at the scene of his triumph. Legend has it that it lasted so
long, and consumed so much water, that afterwards a special delivery had to be organised to replenish the camp’s supplies.

The 22nd Company wasn’t the only Polish army outfit to have a bear as its mascot. An infantry outfit, the 16th Lwów Rifles Battalion, had been given a bear by the Shah of Persia
while the men were stationed in his country. They called the bear Michael and he was several years older than Wojtek.

One day in September 1943 while Wojtek’s company was stationed in Iraq he was brought to meet Wojtek. The encounter erupted into a terrifying fight. As he approached Wojtek, Michael went
into a berserker rage. He wrenched his restraining chain out of the grasp of his handlers and charged at Wojtek. Within seconds the animals were grappling with each other, enveloping each other in
deadly bear hugs, slashing out with terrifying claws, and each trying to rip out the other’s throat with his fangs. The two titans were locked in mortal combat and there was no way the
soldiers could intervene without themselves being killed or badly injured. At one point Wojtek, who was the stronger bear, began to get the better of Michael, catching him in a headlock that
threatened to snap his neck. His comrades and Peter were all yelling at him to let go and, by some miracle, Wojtek finally responded to their shouts. As Wojtek pushed away his assailant Michael was
separated
long enough for his handlers to grab his chain and, mob-handed, get him back under control.

Michael had a completely different temperament from that of Wojtek; he had a treacherous nature and could turn vicious without warning. The officers of the 16th Lwów Rifles Battalion had
attempted to rehome him with an Australian regiment, but the delinquent bear, after thumping his new handlers, made his escape and ran back to his old battalion. The men weren’t keen to have
him back so he was shunted onto the 22nd Company on the basis that their outfit already had experience in caring for bears. But there was no chance of Michael ever making friends with Wojtek. His
hatred remained undiminished and any time he saw him he would roar out challenges and try to escape from his restraints to attack him. Thus it was, when the company later returned to Palestine,
Michael was given to Tel Aviv Zoo. In thanks, its director sent the company a small monkey as a gift. The men called her Kaska.

For poor Wojtek it was a case of swapping a delinquent bear for a delinquent monkey, whose sole delight in life, right from the very first time they met, was to torment him. At every opportunity
she would tweak his nose or nip his ears, jump on his head when he was asleep and race up trees to hurl stones and dates at him, chattering at him all the time. Her behaviour towards him was so bad
that Wojtek would cover his eyes with his paws when he saw her coming, as if blotting her out and ignoring her would somehow save him from the nips and nastiness. The sight of Kaska chasing Wojtek
through the camp was most incongruous. Indeed, it actually got to the point where the men only had to shout her name and Wojtek would turn and flee. And it wasn’t just Wojtek she targeted.
She would play
nasty tricks on the men too, ripping up their cigarettes and thieving other items.

However, Wojtek and his companions had more to concern them than a malicious monkey. Rumours were rife that soon their company was to see action in Italy as part of the 2nd Polish Corps under
General Anders. In December 1943 Wojtek and his companions were moved to Egypt, where the 2nd Corps and other British forces were mustering, preparing to sail from Alexandria and Port Said for
Italy. For Peter and the men, the big question was whether the top brass would permit Wojtek to accompany them. At virtually the last minute Wojtek’s special travel warrant was approved and
on 13 February 1944 Wojtek and the company, aboard the converted troop ship
MS
Batory, set sail under protective convoy from Alexandria for the Italian port of Taranto. The
Battle of Monte Cassino, in which Wojtek was to achieve legendary status, was just three months away.