The Reindeer and the Submarine Read online

  ‘Sometimes things have to change even though we might not want them to.’

  An orphaned reindeer with no antlers, Pollyanna is raised by Igor, a Sámi herder, and is more at home in the company of people than other reindeer. When she discovers Igor is leaving for war, Pollyanna decides to follow, but en route, she is captured and gifted to the crew of a British submarine, the HMS Trident.

  Life onboard the Trident brings more than a few surprises, and Pollyanna – with her love of food – gets into all kinds of mischief. But she also makes friends, becomes part of the crew, and uses her courage and cheekiness to comfort her companions in the dark days of the war. Eventually all journeys come to an end however, and Pollyanna finds herself facing a new adventure.

  A timeless story of bravery, hope and facing change, as told by Pollyanna, the real-life reindeer who proves that heroes come in all shapes and sizes.

  Praise for The Reindeer and the Submarine

  ‘What a book! Had me laughing, crying, and hanging onto the edge of my seat.’ – Eliza, Year 5

  ‘This was a great book. It hooked me from the beginning and it kept me on the edge of my seat. I think the ending was lovely and I recommend it to people who love animals. 5 stars’ – Ada, Year 6

  ‘I love how Beverley McWilliams writes about real issues and experiences like losing or missing family members and being or feeling different’ – Beatrix, Year 5

  ‘I loved reading this book! I was not expecting the story to be written from the reindeer’s perspective – I found this added to the sense of adventure. I was very interested to learn about the Sámi people and life in the Arctic.’ – Julia, Year 5

  ‘Throughout her journey, Pollyanna discovers that there is more to life than yummy biscuits and moss!’ – Molly, Year 5

  ‘I loved the whole book’ – Maya, Year 3

  ‘If you like a funny and heartfelt journey, then you will love The Reindeer and the Submarine.’ – Saavi, Year 4

  For Mum and Dad

  CONTENTS

  About the Book

  Praise for the Reindeer and the Submarine

  Title Page

  Dedication

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Glossary

  The Remarkable True Story of Pollyanna

  Acknowledgements

  About the Author

  Copyright

  CHAPTER 1

  Kola Peninsula, Soviet Union, October 1941

  I loved arctic nights when the sky was alight. Sometimes it was blue. Sometimes it was purple-violet. Nights like tonight were my favourite – yellow with a swirl of green. The lights curved, curled and danced across the sky, putting on a show just for me. Among the kaleidoscope of colours, millions of stars sparkled like jewels. There, right in the middle, was Mama’s star. The biggest and brightest of them all.

  The return of dark nights meant winter was on its way. A few weeks ago, I’d been feasting on wildflowers and juicy grasses beneath the never-setting sun. But now, a thick blanket of snow covered the land. Flocks of gliding arctic terns had already headed south, and soon it would be time for our herd to make the long journey. I didn’t want to leave. I’d miss the freedom of roaming the vast open tundra. I’d miss the salty sea air. But most of all, I’d miss my best friend, Misha.

  My nose twitched. A familiar, mushroom-like smell made my stomach rumble. I sniffed at the ground, then shovelled it with my front hooves, sending a flurry of soft snow flying. There it was – delicious lichen. At least, I was supposed to think it was delicious. Lichen was a reindeer’s staple winter food. But I preferred freshly baked bread drenched with butter or a bowl of piping-hot porridge with creamy milk. That’s what Igor used to feed me when I was a calf, and when you have tasted such wonders, it’s difficult to appreciate the bitter, spongy flavour of ‘reindeer moss’.

  A dash of warm fur brushed past my legs. ‘Misha, what’re you doing here? How did you find me?’

  Misha bounced around, making little paw prints next to mine. ‘Us arctic foxes are known for our excellent tracking ability.’ He rubbed his nose against the newly exposed ground. ‘Anything yummy down there, Pollyanna?’

  ‘I wouldn’t go as far as to say “yummy”, but you’re welcome to share my moss.’

  Misha scrunched up his nose. ‘I was hoping for something juicier, like a delicious vole or a luscious lemming.’

  Moss might have been bland and hard to find in the snow, but at least it didn’t run away when you tried to eat it. I was glad I was a grazer and not a hunter.

  Misha pawed at the ground excitedly. A little furry head emerged. It looked at him with its beady black eyes, and Misha stared right back. Then it darted under the snow and scurried away. Misha attacked with a frenzy of jumps and springs and leaps. I felt tired just watching him.

  Misha slowed and padded in a circle, his ears twitching. ‘I’ve got this one,’ he whispered.

  He crouched, then leapt high into the air and dived nose-first. His head disappeared beneath the snow, his paws kicking frantically.

  ‘Misha, are you all right down there?’

  His reply was muffled, but I was sure he said ‘stuck’.

  I grabbed his bushy tail between my teeth and tugged. Misha hurtled through the air like a giant snowball. Somehow, he landed on his feet.

  ‘Are you okay?’ I asked.

  He shook the snow from his head. ‘Stupid lemming.’

  Poor Misha. He wasn’t good at hunting, just like I wasn’t good at being a reindeer.

  I brushed him gently with my nose. ‘You nearly had it.’

  Misha puffed out his cheeks. ‘Ava caught her first lemming yesterday. That means it’s just me. I’m the only one who hasn’t had a catch.’ He dipped his head.

  Misha had nineteen brothers and sisters. It got competitive in their burrow and catching your first prey was a big achievement. I understood how he felt. It was hard being the one left behind, never quite measuring up, always being just too different.

  Being an expert hunter was important if you were an arctic fox, but for a reindeer, it was all about antlers. Reindeer judged each other on the length, strength, and beauty of antlers. No pair was ever the same. They were unique, like snowflakes. Our herders, the Sámi people, had special names for us according to our antlers. Barfi was a reindeer with many-branched antlers. Spahci was a reindeer with tall, slender, quivering antlers. Leanzi meant a reindeer’s antlers stood out in a steep slope to the side. Me? I was a goalla – a reindeer who hadn’t grown antlers at all.

  When my first summer passed with no antlers, I was disappointed. Now, my second summer had been and gone, and there wasn’t even the hint of a little hairy bud. I’d tried everything, even rubbing my head in polar bear poo! But nothing worked. Most reindeer my age had already grown their second set of antlers, and some had two or three pointers. How could that be fair?

  I’d heard their whispers. I’d seen their looks of sympathy. An orphaned reindeer, raised by humans, with no antlers – as far as my herd went, I was at the bottom of the pack. But at least I had Misha. He didn’t care one bit about antlers, and I didn’t care that he couldn’t hunt.

  I nudged Misha’s head with mine. ‘Want to play chase?’

  He grinned and tapped me with his paw. ‘You’re it.’

  Misha pounced into the air before I could get him back. Then he darted through the snow. I was right behind him. Reindeer might not have been as agile and springy as foxes, but we were fast. Of course, Misha’s head didn’t even reach my knees, which put me at a slight advantage.

  I tapped Misha, but he spun around and tagged me straight back. Then he ducked and sprung into the air, leaping over my back before rolling through the snow. I paused to take a breath. ‘You’re too good.’

  Misha darted in the opposite direction, his paws making little holes in the freshly fallen snow. ‘Come on, slowcoach.’

  I sucked in a deep breath. He hadn’t won yet. I bolted after him. Misha glanced back. I was gaining pace. I stretched my nose towards the tip of his tail. Any moment now …

  Misha stopped. I dug my hooves into the ground, coming to a halt just in time.

  ‘Misha, don’t do that! I nearly trampled you.’

  ‘Listen.’ Misha stared into the distance. ‘What’s that noise?’

  My ears twitched. I heard it too. A faint buzz. Then a rumble. Then a roar. I sheltered Misha with my body. ‘I don’t know,’ I whispered.

  Misha cowered beneath me. ‘Perhaps it’s a terrible storm.’

  I sniffed, but
I couldn’t smell a storm, and that wasn’t the boom of thunder. We stared up as giant shadows loomed in the sky.

  ‘Pollyanna, they’re the biggest birds I’ve ever seen.’

  The ground vibrated. My legs trembled. ‘I don’t think they’re birds. Come on.’ I nudged him. ‘We should go.’

  CHAPTER 2

  We raced across the frozen ground. The noise whirred above, growing louder and louder. A shadow engulfed us, blotting out the light of the stars. Then, as suddenly as it had filled the sky, the deafening roar faded to a distant drone.

  ‘Has it gone, Pollyanna? Are we safe?’

  I gazed at the sky. ‘Yes, I think so.’ But an uncomfortable feeling stirred inside me. ‘Come on. You better get back to your family. Your mama will be worried.’

  Misha lingered at the entrance to his burrow. ‘What about you? I can’t leave you by yourself.’

  ‘Don’t worry,’ I said. ‘I’ll be fine.’

  Misha hesitated. He touched his wet nose on mine. ‘Be careful.’ Then he scrambled into his burrow.

  I watched until he was safely out of sight. My stomach churned. I wished I could have followed.

  I sniffed the air, hunting for the scent of the herd, but another smell drifted on the breeze. Warm and homely, like soft leather. Igor was nearby.

  I listened for the jingle of metal rings and followed my nose. Igor wasn’t hard to spot. Even in a blizzard, you couldn’t miss a Sámi herder with their bright blue gákti and red tassel hat. I bounded towards him.

  ‘Pollyanna, I’ve been looking for you everywhere.’ Igor wrapped his arms around my neck. I nuzzled my head against his warm body. I felt safe, like I had the day he’d scooped me up and tucked me inside his tunic. The day he’d saved me from the wolves that took Mama. ‘I wish you’d stay with the herd. I don’t like you out here by yourself. Not with the planes overhead.’

  Planes – of course. I knew they weren’t birds. I’d seen planes before, but not like those. Not so low. Not so noisy.

  ‘The war is getting closer.’ Igor sighed. ‘I fear it’s going to affect all our lives.’

  When I was a calf, Igor told me about the war. It was on distant shores back then, a long way from our world. But a few months ago, everything changed. Many ships arrived at our little port. They travelled in large groups, like a herd. Igor said they belonged to our friends in the far-off lands of America and Great Britain. They carried important supplies so our country could stay strong and fight the enemy who was trying to invade our land. But many of those ships disappeared. I heard the boom. I saw the flames. I watched the ocean swallow them.

  Igor smoothed his hand across my coat. ‘You’re looking thin, Pollyanna. How about you come with me to camp, and I’ll get you something to eat?’

  Back to camp? Something to eat? There was nothing I’d like more.

  I stood perfectly still as Igor clipped on my halter. He was finally taking me home, and I hoped, this time, he’d let me stay.

  It was late when we arrived. A few herders were still gathered around the large fire, warming their hands by the crackling flames. Everyone else was tucked up inside their cosy warm lavvut.

  I had spent many wonderful nights by the fire with Igor’s people. I’d listened to their stories, shared their supper and played with the children. Then, a few months ago, Igor took me back to the herd. He wanted me to learn to be a reindeer. I didn’t understand. Why learn to forage when I could have my food in a bowl? Why learn to make a winter bed when I could lie on a cosy rug by the fire? Igor said I would be better off with my own kind, but he was wrong. I didn’t belong with the other reindeer. They thought I was strange and silly, and the fact I had no antlers made everything much worse. No one wanted to talk to me or play with me. I spent most days wandering on my own – until I’d found Misha. If it hadn’t been for him, I wasn’t sure how I would have survived the last few months.

  I closed my eyes and inhaled the sweet scent of burning pine cones. I was glad to be back among my people again.

  With a twist and a turn and a shake, I slipped my head out of my halter. I’d never liked being tied up, so I’d learned to escape when I was just a young calf. At least there were some benefits of having no antlers.

  Igor took his place beside his brother Tomas, and I took my place beside him.

  Tomas raised his eyebrows. ‘What’s Pollyanna doing here?’

  Igor shrugged. ‘I found her wandering by herself over near Mason’s rocks. I was worried after I saw the planes.’

  ‘No wonder you haven’t got a wife yet.’ Tomas laughed. ‘You give Pollyanna all your attention.’

  Igor stroked my face. ‘She won’t settle with the herd. I’ve tried everything.’

  ‘I’m not surprised. You’ve spoiled her,’ Tomas said, still chuckling. ‘You turned her into a pet the day you named her Pollyanna.’

  The Sámi people had one thousand different words for reindeer. They named us according to our appearance, our age, our coat. Even though there were one thousand words to choose from, Igor gave me a people name. The other reindeer made fun of me, but I didn’t care. I was proud to be called Pollyanna.

  I stared, mesmerised by the dazzling firelight. Sparks danced, and flickering flames leapt and curled like the winter sky. My eyelids grew heavy.

  ‘Promise me you’ll look out for her, Tomas.’ Igor’s voice was low and serious. ‘And if I don’t make it—’

  ‘Don’t speak of that,’ Tomas replied.

  My ears pricked. I strained to hear the mumbled words over the sound of the crackling fire. Why did Tomas need to look out for me? Was Igor going somewhere?

  Tomas poked a stick into the fire. ‘Don’t worry. I’ll make sure she’s safe. I promise.’

  I waited for them to say more, but they sat in silence, the fire illuminating their pale faces. There was sadness in their eyes. My stomach knotted. My head pounded. Something wasn’t right. I felt it hanging in the air like a storm.

  CHAPTER 3

  Igor opened the flap of his lavvu. Inside, it was just as I remembered. The carpet of birch twigs. The fire in the centre surrounded by stones. Igor’s sleeping sack and woollen blankets. My rug beside them.

  I bounded in, sending a pile of firewood tumbling. It was squashier than I recalled.

  ‘Goodness, Pollyanna, you’ve certainly grown taller,’ Igor said. ‘Perhaps you’re too big to be inside now.’

  I lay on my rug and pressed my head to the ground. I wasn’t too big.

  Igor smiled and stroked my face. ‘Don’t worry, you can stay. But just for tonight. Tomorrow you go back to the herd.’

  My nose twitched. A sweet, delicious smell filled the air, and wisps of warm memories flickered through my mind. Suspended above the glowing fire, a large pot hung from sooty poles. Igor lifted the lid and scooped the contents into two wooden bowls.

  ‘I must have known you were coming,’ Igor said, placing a bowl in front of me. ‘I made your favourite.’

  My mouth watered. Wild berries tasted delicious, but they were much nicer done the people way. Heated with a fine white powder called sugar, the berries turned softer and sweeter and melted on my tongue like snowflakes.

  I lapped up the feast before Igor had a chance to take a mouthful. It was just like old times.

  ‘You enjoyed that.’ Igor chuckled. ‘Have you been missing your meals here?’

  That was an understatement. He should try eating moss.

  Igor spread a slice of soft flatbread with berries. I nudged him with my head.

  ‘Go on then.’ He smiled. ‘I’m not hungry, anyway.’

  I whipped it from his hand before he changed his mind. The berries tasted even better spread on warm bread. I licked the crumbs from the floor, then curled up beside his feet to rest my full tummy.

  Igor stroked my back. ‘Look at that sky, Pollyanna. Isn’t it beautiful?’

  I stared up at the hole in the roof where tendrils of red smoke drifted out into the frosty night air. When I was a calf, we’d sit for hours and watch the sky. Igor told me stories about the coloured lights that speak if we choose to listen and about the twinkling white dots called stars. When we leave this world, Pollyanna, our souls live on in the lights and the stars, he’d told me one night. I didn’t know what he meant by soul, but I liked to think it was true. That Mama hadn’t left me. That she was still here, watching over me forever.