Sheer boredom first led Peter Woolcock to take up a pen and paper and start drawing. He was born on the outskirts of Buenos Aires, Argentina to English parents. He loved playing sports in boarding school, but school holidays at home were long and lonely and he lived far from any friends. He occupied himself by drawing farm animals and other things he saw around his home.
In those days no one he knew saw drawing as something you could do as a career, so his first job was in the accounts department of Lever Bros. that produced soaps and perfumes. He hated working there, so when World War II arrived, Peter volunteered. He joined the Royal Tank Regiment, buoyed by the simple idea that he would at least ride into battle rather than march. His was one of the first tanks to cross the Rhine and the third to reach the Elbe.
On one fateful Friday the 13th, the tank they were about to take over the lead from, exploded in a sheet of flame, killing three crew members. During the ensuing chaos of explosions, shouts and crashes and smoke and stinging cordite fumes, Peter heard a voice in his head say, “This is war. You travelled 8,000 miles to get into it. Here it is. Get on with it.” He survived the war, but unfortunately his best friend, did not. He takes part in the Remembrance Day Parade, every year.
He was demobbed in 1947 and returned to Argentina. He found himself in the middle of the Peron and Evita era, a time when no one dared make any political commentary without fearing for their lives.
He married and later, with his wife’s blessing, booked passage to England on a cargo boat. He paid for his passage by caring for 169 horses that were bound for the Belgian dinner plate.
“Thus it was that, kicked, bitten and with the aroma of horse manure, I made my triumphant arrival back in Britain,” he said.
He found work with the Amalgamated Press and brought his late wife, Ethel, and daughter, Diana, to England. Although Peter is well known locally for his political cartoons, he actually worked for 38 years for the Amalgamated Press in England drawing hundreds of illustrations for children’s books and magazines including Look and Learn and Treasure. He became known for his ability to draw animals.
He eventually left England and moved to Spain, still working for the Amalgamated Press. Then in 1981, he moved his family to Bermuda. He soon settled into Island life. He joined the Bermuda Society of Arts, but did not immediately take up political cartooning.
“I was told by well meaning friends that Bermudians didn’t have a sense of humour,” he said. “So for two years I held off.”
In 1983, however, the looming general election became so irresistible that he took some samples to show then editor of The Royal Gazette, David White. That is when it all started.
He discovered that Bermudians do indeed have a sense of humour. He has only had three complaints in the last 25 years. In fact, many politicians featured in his cartoons scramble to buy the originals from him. You haven’t really made it in Bermuda politics until you have been gently mocked by Peter’s pencil.
“I have been bowled over by the way people reacted to my drawings,” he said.
A cavalcade of characters have crossed his drawing board since then including Sir Jack Sharpe (wonderful to draw), Sir John Swan and the “lovable” Quinton Edness, Doc Hall, Ralph Marshall, Ernest Vesey and the list goes on.
“What a glorious facial cornucopia Bermuda has,” he said.
Unfortuantely, Peter considers today’s cast of political characters a bit faceless.
Although Peter is known for his love of art, not as many people know that he is also a music aficionado and has played the piano and organ publically in three countries in churches and cathedrals.
“I confess to fooling a lot of the people a lot of the time, since I can’t read a note of music,” he said.
Of his life, Peter said he considers himself blessed and fulfilled.
