Wojtek the Bear [paperback] by Aileen; Orr Page B

were leaving
Cassino another flag was raised. It was the Union Jack.’
    Wojtek’s actions during the Battle of Monte Cassinowere 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 logo 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 mytwentieth 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, nowaged 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