Wojtek the Bear [paperback] Read online

  On 11 May 1944, the final battle of Monte Cassino began. Before the attack General Anders addressed his troops, telling them: ‘For this action let the lion’s spirit enter your hearts and keep deep in your heart God, honour and our land – Poland.’ He urged his men to go and take a revenge for all the suffering in Poland, for what they, themselves, had suffered in the many years spent in Russia and for the years of separation they had endured from their families.

  At 11 p.m. – H-hour – some 1,200 Allied guns opened up. Their coordinated artillery fire was so great that it practically turned night into bright day. It was a shock-and-awe engagement where the very ground shook. But Wojtek stayed with his comrades, ensuring the munitions got through.

  All along the Gustav Line, Allied troops were engaging the enemy in attacks which resulted in the wholesale slaughter of their men. The single most critical phase of the battle was the crossing of the Rapido River under the German guns. If that failed so did the offensive.

  At separate points, infantrymen of numerous nationalities attempted the crossing, including the 8th Indian Division far west of Monte Cassino at San Angelo and the 4th British Division just west of the town near the railway cuttings. The 2nd Polish Corps’ task was to cross the river and advance up the north-east flank of the monastery at Hill 593.

  That most decisive phase of the battle to capture Monte Cassino was recalled by Black Watch veteran John Clarke MBE. He recalled that the river crossings attempted by the Poles and their British counterparts were almost a complete disaster: ‘To cross the river, canvas folding boats had been sent from Burma. They had only arrived a few hours before zero hour. Attacking infantrymen assembled the boats and set off across the swift-flowing river. Many were simply swept away to their deaths.’

  Other men drowned within yards of setting out. Their boats sank almost instantly because the canvas sides were riddled with holes caused by insects which had infested them during their storage in the Far East. The men in the canvas boats were mostly soldiers from the Argylls and the Hampshires, although the attrition rates were so high that many others, including Poles, were brought in as re-inforcements. And all this was happening before the Germans, from their well-protected positions, laid down withering curtains of artillery fire.

  Against all the odds, some of the troops made it to the other side and established several frail bridgeheads. As they dug in amid the smoke and the river mist they faced a new and unexpected danger. The soil around them was heavily impregnated with phosphorus. They disturbed it as they dug their foxholes and there arose an eerie glow which made the troops easy targets for German snipers.

  Every yard the troops advanced was bought with the blood of brave men. The carnage was almost beyond computation. Nowhere was the fighting more brutal than on the route being forced to the top by the 2nd Polish Corps. For six days and nights the battle raged. With fanatical courage the Poles hurled themselves at the entrenched positions of the Germans on the hill leading up to the monastery; it was as if a great and implacable hatred for all the agonies visited on their country by German invaders was driving them to feats of superhuman endurance. At one point, cut off from their supplies, Polish troops who had run out of ammunition resorted to throwing stones at the enemy.

  Tomasz Skrzynski, then a 20-year-old cadet in the Carpathian Lancers Regiment, who would later be part of 22nd Company with Wojtek, was with the Poles in the uplands above the monastery. Like other Polish soldiers, he had been fighting at close quarters to gain control of the hilltop. But when the savagery of hand-to-hand combat was over, there was no respite. He and his comrades were forced to spend days sheltering in crude foxholes and a ruined stone hut to escape enemy shelling. When they dug into the ground there they uncovered the corpses of three Germans, whom they reburied, marking their grave with a makeshift cross.

  ‘The shelling continued day and night, and there was no such thing as silence,’ he recalled many decades later, in an interview with the BBC. ‘At one point I was ordered to count the shells falling nearby, but after two hours or so it was above 500 and I lost count.’ The months of battle and constant shelling had turned the normally lush countryside into a wasteland. ‘There was no greenery, only stumps of trees. Everywhere just stumps, as far as you could see,’ said Skrzynski.

  The battle raged on until the Poles prevailed. They finally walked into the ruins of the monastery on 18 May 1944 without a shot being fired, having spotted a tattered white flag of surrender. Inside they discovered a number of Germans in ragged uniforms, three badly wounded paratroopers and numerous corpses. As the Poles raised a Lancers Regiment pennant to signify the capture of the monastery, a soldier played an ancient bugle call recognised by all Poles. Known as the Kraków Hejnał, according to legend it was used to alert that city to an invasion by Genghis Khan’s Mongol hordes. As the notes rang out, the Polish troops wept with exhaustion and relief that the fighting had ended. The carnage was over. In the week’s fighting 2nd Corps suffered appalling losses. There were a total of 4,199 casualties, including 1,150 killed. It was one of the decisive battles of the war.

  Elsewhere along the Gustav Line, other victories were achieved. With his mates from the 6th Black Watch, John Clarke crossed the Rapido on a bridge constructed by the Royal Engineers to take the weight of tanks. The bridge was built while the sappers came under constant enemy fire – an incredible feat. Clarke recalls: ‘They performed miracles erecting that bridge, but their losses were terrible. I crossed with the Black Watch. All around were bodies and craters where shells had landed. We formed up, fixed bayonets and moved on. Then a really thick mist came down and our CO, Colonel Madden, lined up the tanks of the Lothian and Border Horse and placed the lads around the tanks. Then we moved on through the mist. We fought for five days and nights before reaching our target of Highway Six. This meant the German paras were cut off.’

  In a separate engagement, Algerian, Moroccan and Tunisian troops of the French Expeditionary Corps achieved another extremely important breakthrough in the Aurunci Mountains south of the Liri River. The combined victories forced the enemy to retreat.

  On the morning of 18 May 1944, Private Clarke and his Black Watch comrades were withdrawn from the battle in trucks and taken to Monte Cassino, then in the hands of the Poles. Clarke said: ‘When it was all over and we rested in Cassino town, we had a brew and a preliminary roll-call. We sat among the ruins of the old cathedral when a tubby, red-faced individual came bouncing up to us. He had a tape recorder in a wooden box hanging from his neck and said: ‘‘Hello, lads, I’m Wynford Vaughan-Thomas from the BBC. Nothing to worry about now – you’re out of it.’’

  ‘I’ll never forget what happened next. Not a word was said by our lads. Eyes turned towards this horrible creature and locked onto his face. The silence and the stares lasted several minutes until, completely unnerved by it, the man turned and ran away in embarrassment.’

  What Vaughan-Thomas, one of the BBC’s most celebrated war correspondents, did not know was that in the roll-call just taken the men of the Black Watch had learned that they had suffered 60 per cent casualties.

  John Clarke is now aged 86 and lives in Manchester. Still honorary secretary of the Monte Cassino Veterans Association, he said: ‘It was then that we all made a promise never to forget those lads we were leaving behind. We have kept that promise. About this time a flag of some kind was raised in the ruins of the monastery. It was raised by the Poles. Just as we were leaving Cassino another flag was raised. It was the Union Jack.’

  Wojtek’s actions during the Battle of Monte Cassino were to give rise to the proudest and most sought-after piece of military regalia in 22nd Company: a special badge featuring Wojtek going to war. Based on a drawing by one of the soldiers, it depicted him carrying an artillery shell and also featured a truck steering wheel to indicate that he was part of a transport company. The Poles wore it either as a cap badge or on the sleeves or lapels of their combat tunics. It was very much 22nd Company’s trademark: the bear log
o even appeared on regimental equipment. Within weeks of it being created and approved, shortly after the Battle of Monte Cassino, the Wojtek military logo was everywhere. The bear had pretty much become a legend in his own not inconsiderable lunchtime as curious Allied soldiers from other regiments inquired about the badge’s significance.

  Wojtek had been well and truly blooded in one of the most controversial and historic engagements of World War II. Perhaps the most amazing aspect of it was that being exposed to the rigours of intensive warfare didn’t alter his temperament at all.

  Some readers may suspect that Wojtek’s shell-carrying exploits have gained a little in the telling, but soldiers from other regiments witnessed the bear in action. In April 1944, in the build-up to the final battle, Black Watch veteran John Clarke and a friend, Vincent Franchetti, were foraging for food near the village of Acquafondata, some six miles from Monte Cassino. Their battalion had just been taken out of the front line and the men were making the most of the lull in the fighting. They had enjoyed a much-needed shower at the village and set off, as Clarke says, ‘on the scrounge’, into the heavily wooded countryside.

  Clarke testifies: ‘I remember it clearly because it was my twentieth birthday. We were making our way through the deserted fields, looking for stray hens and eggs, when a nearby artillery unit opened fire. We went to look and found a battery of Polish gunners setting up for a barrage. The gun site was hidden in a clearing within a large wood. As we watched, suddenly out of the wood came a large bear, walking on its hind legs. It seemed to be carrying something. Both Vincent and I shouted a warning to the gunners that a bear was going towards them, but nobody responded.

  ‘The bear went up to the trail legs of the artillery gun and placed a shell on the ground. The bear then went back into the wood and reappeared with another shell. By this time, we had realised that the bear was tame and most likely a circus bear. We just went on our way.’

  There was to be an interesting postscript to Clarke’s memory of the encounter. After the war, when he told his wife the story, she refused to believe it, dismissing it as a tall tale he had invented. She would often persuade him to recount it to friends, still scoffing about its accuracy. However, the tables were turned when the couple were at a function attended by Polish veterans. Once more Clarke was persuaded to recite his tale. ‘Ah yes,’ said one of the Poles. ‘That would be Wojtek.’

  Later on, on a memorial trip to Kraków, Clarke actually met Tomasz Skrzynski, who had been involved in looking after Wojtek and who was wearing the famed bear logo on his jacket lapel. Clarke says he claimed that he had helped train the bear.

  There is proof, too, from another quarter that Wojtek was used to toting burdens for his friends. One of the Polish DPs in Scotland after the war, Augustyn Karolewski, now aged 82 and a retired river-salmon fisherman, recalled Wojtek’s behaviour at Sunwick Farm. At that time Karolewski, known as Kay to the Scots (a nickname which derived from the fact that the only word of English he knew when he first arrived at Winfield Camp was ‘OK’), was living at Winfield Camp while employed locally as a farm labourer. Wojtek often accompanied the men to the fields where they were working and was quite happy to carry fencing staves and logs for them, although it has to be said the bear was usually more interested in attempting to steal the contents of the men’s lunch tins. Nevertheless, it is proof of a sort that Wojtek was well used to carrying heavy loads for his friends. The simple dynamic at work was comradeship.

  Monte Cassino was a turning point in the fortunes of the Allies. The months of May and June saw many successes. May saw American forces break out of Anzio after five long months, forcing a German retreat. June saw the fall of Rome to the Allies – and the long-awaited D-Day invasion. Following the Battle of Monte Cassino, 2nd Corps took part in the drive up the Adriatic coast, capturing the Italian port of Ancona on 20 July 1944 supported by 22nd Company. It was an important victory because it gave the Allies access to a port which greatly shortened their supply lines as they drove their way northwards up the spine of Italy.

  For the men of 22nd Company there was little respite. As the exigencies of war dictated, their billets were constantly changing, ranging from military camps to farm dwellings in the countryside. It was during such a period when they were stationed at a farm that Wojtek rediscovered his primal hunting instincts – and for the first time challenged his mentor Peter’s authority in a terrifying display of rage.

  The men had noticed many times that around horses, and particularly donkeys, Wojtek’s whole demeanour would change: spotting them grazing in a field he would drop onto all fours and would start stalking them. Usually a shout from his mentor, Peter, or one of the soldiers who knew the bear, was sufficient to deflect him from his purpose. But on one occasion he set about stalking a donkey with serious intent to kill. The terrified animal broke free from its tether and tried to escape. It was only the intervention of Peter which prevented bloodshed. As Wojtek loped after the donkey, Peter jumped onto his back and covered the bear’s eyes with his hands, a method he sometimes employed when Wojtek became overly excitable. But this time the tactic to break the bear’s focus didn’t work. Wojtek reared up on his hind legs and Peter was forced to dismount and employ even more desperate measures. Running round to stand in front of Wojtek, he blocked his progress and roared at him to stop. For one heart-stopping moment, Wojtek reared to his full height and bared his fangs at his mentor, prepared to destroy him. Then he remembered who Peter was and immediately became submissive.

  It was a confrontation which didn’t dent Peter’s calm faith in Wojtek, but he knew it was no longer possible for him to be constantly on hand to control the bear. If other minders weren’t available, Wojtek would have to be tethered more frequently. The need for a restraint was underlined on another occasion when the company was quartered near Loreto, where Wojtek stalked and cornered a pack horse in a field. However, this time the bear had met his match. Crazed with fear, the horse lashed out with its hooves and gave Wojtek a heavy blow to the head. Dazed and disconcerted, Wojtek ran off. His hunting days were apparently over.

  For the rest of that year, and into the following spring, as the Allied advance continued to press the Germans into retreat, 22nd Company was as busy as ever, but there were lighter moments. On one occasion, while 22nd Company was in transit and taking a short break in a field, Wojtek snuck off along the road and went exploring. At a crossroads, he discovered a mobile crane parked at the roadside and climbed up its tower to stage an impromptu acrobatic performance that brought military traffic in all directions to a complete standstill. There was an almighty snarl-up which stretched back for the best part of a mile in every direction while Wojtek performed his aerial tricks high above the ground. Never happier than when he was the centre of attention, he refused to come down until a bottle of beer was produced to tempt him back to earth.

  In another legendary incident he almost got himself shot. At night, in camp, if Peter wasn’t around, Wojtek would often slip into his mates’ tents and bed down beside them; he’d been doing it since he was a cub and the men were quite used to it. He liked the companionship as well as the warmth of body contact. However, on this occasion the company was sharing a camp with numerous other Allied soldiers who had no knowledge of Wojtek’s nocturnal habits. The bear strayed off his section into another unit’s camp and invaded the tent of a group of Indian soldiers who were greatly disconcerted at the appearance of a huge bear in their midst. Still in their nightclothes, the panic-stricken men grabbed their rifles and levelled them at Wojtek, ready to shoot him if he made any move towards them. Alerted by the commotion, the camp guards dashed to the scene. By good fortune they happened to be Polish and knew the bear, so they were able to defuse the situation without a tragedy occurring. But it had been a close-run thing.

  The last battle fought by 2nd Corps on Italian soil was in April 1945, when the Poles captured Bologna from the Germans. Again, 22nd Company was in the thick of it. The following month the war in Euro
pe ended with Germany’s surrender.

  The end of the war was to herald in an idyllic summer for Wojtek and his companions. There were plenty of furloughs and he had many opportunities to indulge his passion for water sports; he enjoyed many happy days swimming in the temperate waters of the Adriatic. As ever, his mischievous nature was given full rein. The beaches where he and the men bathed were shared with civilians. Wojtek’s favourite trick was to swim underwater towards a group of unsuspecting women bathers, then suddenly surface in their midst. Their squeals of alarm as they found themselves in close proximity to a huge bear were music to his ears. To Wojtek it was a great joke and he never tired of it. Perhaps you could say he was the furry Jaws of his time, long before cinemagoers were scared witless by the creepy music that indicated the arrival of the giant shark. It was also an excellent way for the Polish soldiers to meet young women: Wojtek would ignore the men’s shouts for him to come back, preferring to romp around in the water near his victims, so the soldiers would have to swim out and fetch him. There is no record of whether this unusual dating technique ever brought about the desired results for the soldiers.

  Wojtek was often genuinely reluctant to abandon his new-found female friends when it was time to return to camp. When he refused to leave the water, his companions had one sure-fire method of getting him back on dry land. One of the soldiers would wade ashore and leap into the military truck and start it up, as if to drive off. At the sound of the engine Wojtek’s ears would prick up and he would immediately stop what he was doing and come tearing out of the water. He had a tremendous fear of being left behind and the truck trick worked like a charm every time.