By the time she was finished, the crowds had gathered, and she stood ready to do her duty.
The world changed on a drizzly morning when the first scents of another coming winter found Winnie draped across the slopes of her den, pondering whether it wasn’t time for lunch.
A bright, round noise in the distance roused her to her feet. She took a step toward her gate, ready to take cover, but then she stopped. It didn’t seem like guns or bombs; it had none of that hard edge to it. For some reason, the sound made your Bear think of romping through a summer field of high yellow grass after Mama.
The noise was joined by others like it, and within moments, church bells were ringing across London, bobbing against one another while your Bear listened in wonder.
And then there was one bell louder and deeper than them all, which felt like it was tolling from inside Winnie’s chest.
Ga-dong.
Ga-dong.
Ga-dong.
Ga-dong.
Ga-dong.
Ga-dong.
Ga-dong.
Ga-dong.
Ga-dong.
Ga-dong.
Ga-dong.
Miss Saunders flung open the gate and rushed in. “It’s Big Ben, Winnie!” She clapped her hands together as tears sprouted from her eyes. “They’re letting it ring for the first time in years. The War is over! The War is over at last!”
November 11, 1918
Armistice is signed. Great celebrations all day.
In the wake of those bells, the air vibrated as if a great storm had just ended. Winnie listened, feeling slightly dizzy as crowds flooded Regent’s Park and the streets outside the Zoo, blowing whistles and bugles, shouting and singing.
Two weeks later, Harry stood in her den.
“We won the Great War, Winnie,” he said, sounding slightly stunned.
While he was feeding her, she noticed a fresh badge shaped like an acorn on the cuff of his uniform and touched it with her nose.
“They made me a Major,” Harry told her, shrugging at the sky. “Nine days after the fighting ended.”
Cole stopped me. “What happened to the other guys? Harry’s friends?”
“Edgett went on to be chief of the Vancouver Police Department. And Brodie made it through the War too.” I hesitated.
“What about Dixon?”
I’d expected this question. But I still wasn’t prepared for it.
“Dixon was wounded less than two months before the end of the War. He should have been okay because his wounds weren’t that bad. He was on the deck of a French hospital ship, talking to the other patients, and… well, he just collapsed. His heart gave out. Dixon died of a heart attack. He was forty-eight years old.”
Cole’s eyes flickered, and he pushed his chin into the top of his Bear’s head and bunched his blanket in his fingers.
Softly, I said, “It doesn’t seem fair, does it?”
Cole closed and opened his brown eyes once, twice, but they stayed clear. “That’s because it’s not,” he said with a grown-up shake of his head.
They sat together on the slopes, Harry petting your Bear calmly, each of them lost in their thoughts.
“In Winnipeg,” said Harry, “it’s so cold you can feel icicles on the insides of your nose. Have I ever told you that? You’re much too big to sleep under the bed now, so I guess—”
Someone called to them from across the empty moat. “Winnie,” boomed Pfeiffer, “who’s that with you? Is that your soldier?”
Winnie stood on her hind legs beside Harry.
Pfeiffer took off his hat to reveal his thin gray hair sticking straight up. “Thank you, good sir! Thank you for bringing us Winnie, our favorite bear!” He glanced into the next den and cleared his throat. “Forgive me, Sam. I meant our favorite black bear, Ursus americanus. Polar bears, Ursus maritimus, are an entirely different subspecies.”
Someone whistled from the walkway that overlooked the back of her den, and Winnie went to see who it was. A boy in a brown cap tossed her an apple, and she leapt and caught it in her mouth.
Winnie wagged her head. “Thanks, Charlie!”
Harry laughed. “You’ve made quite a life for yourself here, haven’t you?” he said, ruffling the fur on top of her head as she settled beside him to eat. Harry sighed in a satisfied way. “All I wanted, ever since I found you in White River, was for you to be loved. And look,” he said, lifting his hand to wave back at the spectators now waving at them. “Look at how loved you are.”
Winnie rested her chin on his knee.
“I won’t take it personally,” he said. “After all, it’s not much of a choice between living in the world’s finest zoo and living in a freezing-cold stall with no one to talk to but me and a sick donkey.”
The sun set, and the Zoo closed, but Miss Saunders said Harry could stay as long as he wanted. He lay on his back on the slopes, looking at the stars, with your Bear’s head on his chest, listening to his heart.
Sam was snoring next door.
“I have to let you go, Winnie,” Harry said very quietly. “The War taught me about sacrifice, if nothing else. I’ve seen so many people give up what’s dearest to them, all for something greater.”
He kissed the top of her head. “You will always be my Bear.” His fingers found the special place at the back of her neck, and her eyes began to close, and his heartbeat sounded like Mama’s.
When she woke up, he was gone.
Cole fidgeted with his Bear’s ear. “I would never have left her.”
“You wouldn’t have?” I said. “But then what happened next could never have happened. Something even greater than the Great War was waiting for your Bear. And if it wasn’t for that, this story might have never been remembered and told.”
Some years after the War, a four-year-old boy and his father were led through the tunnels inside the Terraces and up the steep wooden steps to Winnie’s den. The boy wore an itchy coat that ended just above his knees; his unusually long, wavy hair covered his ears. He had a dimple in the middle of his chin, just like Harry.
The boy held back, clutching his father’s leg. “It’s all right,” said Zookeeper Graves, who had returned to his position after the War. “She won’t harm you.”
Winnie approached slowly and opened her mouth. “Who are you?” she wanted to know.
She’d been visited by children before, but there was something special about this one. She could smell it.
“My name is Christopher Robin Milne.” His father bent to murmur in his ear, and the boy pulled a very small stuffed animal from his coat. He showed it to your Bear. It had three buttons down its front and a tiny snout and ears that were too big, and it held its paws in the air in a very excitable way. “And this is Piglet,” said the boy. “Say hello, Piglet.”
Winnie was surprised to find that Piglet smelled like the Woods.
The boy glanced at the pond at the front of her den. “Would you like to join us on an Expotition? Piglet wants to cross the sea, except she might be scared.”
Not two moments later, Christopher Robin and Piglet were riding on Winnie’s back through the puddle. “Don’t drop us! Hold steady! Watch out for the waves! What’s that up ahead? Go on, silly bear, go on!”
Christopher Robin came back again and again. He named his teddy bear after Winnie. From the walkway above the den, his father, Mr. Milne, watched their adventures with delight. Sometimes he’d write in a small notebook and chuckle.
When Christopher Robin was six years old, Mr. Milne wrote Winnie-the-Pooh, which was an overnight success. Then he wrote The House at Pooh Corner.
That’s how Winnie became Christopher Robin’s bear.
So many have felt the same way about your Bear. Her Mama, of course. And the trapper’s boy. The men of the Second Canadian Infantry Brigade. And everyone at the Zoo.
Harry.
Christopher Robin.
Me.
And you.
Most amazing of all, the whole world too.
&nb
sp; That’s the entire story, the real one, the true story of Winnie, who was brave enough to go Farther Than Any Bear Has Ever Gone, all the way through a century to come back in this story for you.
Cole got up and carried his Bear by one leg over to the shelf next to his closet, which was crammed with treasures: a wooden lighthouse from our trip to Tobermory, a photo of him and his friend Asher atop Huckleberry Rock, his bronze ski medal, the space-age crystal-growing kit he’d won at the fall fair.
He reached to the back for my worn copy of The House at Pooh Corner, the one my grandfather gave me, and stood the book up at the shelf’s edge, propping its front cover open with his stuffed animal. A creased black-and-white photo was taped inside. It was of Cole’s great-great-grandfather, the courageous man he had been named for. He was holding a little something out for Bear, who stood up straight and held Harry’s wrist tenderly with one paw, eager to taste whatever came next.
And my Boy saluted them both.
Keep reading with Little, Brown.
Get activities, videos, reading guides, and more!
LittleBrownYoungReaders.com
Facebook.com/LittleBrownYoungReaders
Instagram.com/LittleBrownYoungReaders
Twitter.com/LittleBrownYR
Youtube.com/LittleBrownBooks
Pinterest.com/LittleBrownYoungReaders
My great-grandfather Harry Colebourn opened his diary on August 24, 1914, and recorded the purchase of a small black bear cub for twenty dollars. At that time, he couldn’t possibly have imagined that the events that would follow would eventually help inspire one of the most beloved children’s stories of all time. Growing up with this incredible family story instilled in me a lasting notion that the world was a very big place that could be shaped in part by the smallest of loving gestures.
The story of Harry and Winnie, set against the backdrop of the events of the Great War, reminds us of how much had to be lost for so much to be gained. It is this legacy of love and kindness, as well as bravery and sacrifice, that I am grateful to share with my own children, Cole and Claudia, and with readers everywhere.
In addition to his 1914 diary, Harry left behind other items that make up our family archive. The photographs, artifacts, and additional diaries that anchor the events of Winnie’s Great War in world history have captured my imagination for as long as I can remember. They have also served to make the somewhat surreal story of a soldier bringing a bear cub to war that would go on to inspire a very famous literary character seem all the more real to me. On the following pages you will find some of the most treasured items from our family archive. I hope they serve as a reminder that sometimes the best stories are, in fact, true.
Lindsay Mattick
Here is a photograph of Harry as a young soldier. Harry was born in Birmingham, England, on April 12, 1887, the second eldest of six children. When he was young, his father took a position as a groomsman on a rural estate, where he was responsible for the carriages, stables, and care of the horses. This experience likely helped foster a deep, and fateful, love of animals in Harry. Harry went on to become a trained veterinarian and was already a military volunteer working with animals when the Great War broke out in the summer of 1914.
Monday, August 24, 1914: Left Pt. Arthur 7 AM. On train all day. Bought Bear $20. This entry in Harry’s diary marks the beginning of Harry and Winnie’s journey together. The diaries that Harry kept between 1914 and 1918 leave a personal account of his experiences through the Great War.
I have always loved this particular photograph of Harry feeding Winnie, as it captures such a tender moment. The inscription on the back of this photograph reads: Yours very sincerely, myself and Winnie the Bear. Winnie is now on Exhibition at the Zoo in London but is coming back with me someday. Kind Regards to all. Arry. As we now know, Harry donated Winnie to the London Zoo on December 1, 1919, after the Great War had ended.
This photograph of Harry and Winnie inspired sculptor Bill Epp’s statues that now stand in Winnipeg and London. The back of the photograph is inscribed with a note from Harry: Have had a head shave as you will see by picture—what do you think of my new pal. H.C. My grandfather Fred Colebourn, Harry’s only son, was determined to have his father’s story commemorated. It was his considerable efforts that led to the creation of these statues.
Winnie is pictured here with the Winnipeg section of the Canadian Army Veterinary Corps; the photograph was taken in Valcartier, Quebec, where the Canadian soldiers trained before departing for Europe. Harry is in the second row, the second soldier from the left. We know the names of some of the other soldiers in this photo too: Brodie is in the first row, seated fourth from the left; Edgett is in the middle row, second from the right.
This animal record card shows us that Harry first brought Winnie to the London Zoo on December 9, 1914. In the year and a half following Winnie’s arrival at the zoo, five other black bears, also Canadian regimental mascots, were donated to the zoo. Winnie’s home was the newly constructed Mappin Terraces, named for its benefactor, the jewelry and cutlery company Mappin & Webb.
This photograph, taken in 1925, shows Christopher Robin playing with Winnie as his father, A. A. Milne, watches from above. Winnie was considered a star attraction at the London Zoo, where she lived for more than twenty years.
This photograph was taken of Harry standing outside the veterinary clinic that he established in Winnipeg following the war. Also pictured is his veterinarian kit with some of the instruments he used in his practice. Harry was known in the community for caring for the animals he loved even when their owners could not afford to pay for his services.
Our family tree comes full circle, as my son’s name is short for Colebourn. Cole, named after his great-grandfather, is pictured here with me. He is five years old and just beginning to understand his good fortune to have a “great-great-grandbear.”
“Did that really happen?” asked Cole.
This is a work of imagination rooted in historical fact. We know very little about Winnie’s story before Harry bought her from the trapper in White River, and what we do know of her life comes almost entirely from Harry’s brief diary entries, Colebourn family stories, and zoo records and newspaper articles from that time. Details about the Great War, including Valcartier, Salisbury Plain, and life in London during the war years, are based on research. Brodie, Dixon, and Edgett were real members of the Canadian Army Veterinary Corps, and the fates of Dixon and Edgett are true; but we imagined Harry’s relationships with them and what they might have been like. There really was a stampede at Valcartier and zeppelin attacks over London. Sergeant Bill was real. So were Sam and Barbara, the polar bears who were Winnie’s neighbors on the Mappin Terraces; Sam really did like to steal people’s umbrellas. The characters Winnie meets at the zoo are inspired by real people who worked at or visited the zoo, but again, Winnie’s relationships with them came from our own imaginations. We do know, however, about one very special guest: Christopher Robin Milne.
Winnie's Great War Page 10
