Wojtek the Bear [paperback] Read Free Page A

incoming and outgoing – without ever having been acclimatised to the incessant noise and the lightning-like explosions of heavy ordnance that shook the ground and sent up huge clouds of
earth. Such heavy bombardments could drive even veteran troops to the verge of collapse, known then as shellshock. That Wojtek survived mentally unscathed speaks volumes about his character, and
for those around him.
    Wojtek died in 1963 but he continues to be a power for good. On the international front, his popularity is on the up. The Wojtek Memorial Trust launched in September 2008. Its aims – which
I’ll outline in more detail in a later chapter – are to promote educational links and scholarships between the young people of Scotland and Poland, and, on a broader front, to encourage
new and permanent friendships between the peoples of our two nations.
    That is very much as it should be. The influx of Polish workers to Scotland in recent years is really a continuation of history. The lives of Scots and Poles have been
heavily entwined down the centuries. Few Scots today know that back in the seventeenth century, between 40,000 and 90,000 of our kinsfolk emigrated to Poland in search of religious freedom as well
as economic betterment of their lives. The religious persecution known across Europe during the Protestant Reformation didn’t reach Poland. In fact, religious freedom was enshrined in Polish
law, making the country a beacon of civilisation in those turbulent times. And let us not forget that Bonnie Prince Charlie was half Polish – his mother was Princess Clementina Sobiesky.
    Because Wojtek is involved, in the years to come the Trust will doubtless inspire some unusual projects which will make us all smile and generally stop us from taking life too seriously. After
all, a charitable trust whose patron is a pint-swilling, cigarette-smoking bear who would happily wrestle anyone game enough to tangle with him, can’t really be too precious about its
activities.

 
2
Love at First Sight
    I must have been around eight years old when I first saw Wojtek. I can still see him, sitting on a pile of rocks behind a deep pool waving one massive
paw. I was thrilled to the very bottom of my being.
    A lifelong love affair was born. Let’s face it, I was a pushover: an impressionable young girl, an only child, the centre of my own universe. Of course the bear was waving to me –
and me alone. I had no inkling that he was a crafty old showbiz trouper who, when he wanted a bit of attention, and more probably a bit of grub, would put on a performance worthy of a film
actor.
    By this time Wojtek was being cared for in Edinburgh Zoo. As I clambered up the steep path to his enclosure, I was curious to see the bear I’d heard so much about. Oddly enough, on this
first visit to see him, I wasn’t with my grandfather, Jim Little, my great co-conspirator who used to whisk me off on travels to destinations like Moffat where there was always an ice cream
or a bag of sweets at the end of the journey. This time I was with a Sunday School trip from Trinity Church in Lockerbie. There must have been 40 or 50 of us excitable youngsters who, at the zoo
gates, poured off two single-decker buses, the limp remnants of coloured streamers still dangling from every window. Those streamers seldom survived any journey intact andthey announced to every passer-by that this was our much-looked-forward-to annual outing.
    As for me, that first Sunday School trip was unforgettable. Love at first sight always is! Be still my girlish heart, out of all the youngsters chattering and carrying on outside his enclosure,
Wojtek had singled me out and waved to me. Nothing would convince me otherwise.
    My grandfather had started telling me stories about Wojtek when I was quite small, probably around three years of age. Jim enjoyed my company as I was always a very inquisitive child. A soldier
in his day, he had a unique view of the world which he was more than