大象传媒

The time - a clear moonlit night in January 1943, the place - a cold , dark and seemingly very remote small attic bedroom on the third floor of my grandparent's house in Halifax Yorkshire, the victim - me,a petrified 4 year old , awakened by a sudden " SWOOSH " and a few seconds later , a loud "THUMP !
Something horrible had slid down the attic roof and landed in the back garden...
" DAD !" "MUM !"
No reply.... no sounds , except for the chattering of my teeth, the knocking of my knees, and the distant drone of departing aircraft.
Well, the aircraft MUST be German musn't they ?- passing over Halifax to bomb Bradford and Leeds , or even better , somewhere in Lancashire [ in those days Yorks/Lancs rivalry was in your mother's milk! ], and the " SWOOSH and THUMP !" MUST be a German paratrooper landing on my Grannie's roof dressed as a nun or whatever...!
Still no response to my increasingly despairing cries for help, so no doubt trembling with both the cold and fear in my flannelette pyjamas, yet determined to alert my family, friends and the neighbourhood to the Nazi peril , I stumbled out of my small pitch black bedroom [ the lightbulb having been removed no doubt to save money , and of course comply with the Blackout precautions..].
Carefully feeling my way into the adjoining large and somewhat frightening large attic bedroom which was full of junk, old furniture and Heaven knows what else , I made my uncertain way towards where I knew there was a light switch...needless to say it was too high up for me to reach !
My groping in the dark for something to stand
on was suddenly interrupted by yet more " Swooshes and Thumps "....
Panicking and still calling fruitlessly for my parents , I stumbled and crawled in the dim moonlight around nameless and shapeless unmentionable " things " towards the staircase , only to be confronted by a very big and very black bear !

That was the final straw !!
Scared witless , I ran towards the vaguely discernible top of the attic stairs, and jumped , stumbled , fell or whatever down the thirteen steps { I counted them the following day, believe me ! ] crashed into the closed door at the bottom , knocking it off its hinges, and knocking myself out in the process.....
The ensuing " BUMP " WAS heard by my family, and I was soon restored to the land of the living.
Having no doubt rendered a garbled, colourful and irrational account of my patriotic nocturnal adventure as I lay there by the broken door in my no doubt damp pyjama trousers, my grandfather donned his ARP Warden's tin hat, grabbed a torch and his sturdy whistle, and ventured forth to cautiously reconnoitre his back garden and confront the Nazi invader[s].
Oh dear...!
No paratroopers or distraught nuns.....just large piles of snow that had " Swooshed " down the roof and " Thumped " into the back garden..!
And the BIG black bear ?...merely an old dressing table , the back of which , in the shadowy moonlight resembled the outline of
a VERY big , VERY fierce and VERY large bear, with VERY bearish shoulders, head and ears..honest they DID!
I often wondered why I was never THAT keen on Rupert Bear books....

Harry Wheeldon

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