Time to Move On - 30 September I - October
We were surprised when the Norwegians visited us in daylight on the mountain at Strono on Saturday, September 30th. Greetings over, they then told us that those with moustaches had to remove them, and that we all must shave then and there. They explained that this had to be done in preparation for our move that was to take place the next day, Sunday, October the first. Shaving turned out to be quite an ordeal for us, particularly for those with moustaches. We had no soap and the razors that were provided in our escape kits were extremely dull.
The reason Sunday was picked for the move was an obvious one. Hattvik, the U-boat training centre, was very active; fifteen to twenty vessels and submarines were daily scattered over the fjord near there, but on Sunday their activity was lessened. Einar Evensen had a twenty-one foot motorboat, the type very commonly used by people in the area when they were out fishing. It was felt that the Germans would not be too suspicious of that type of boat on the water at that time.
Torvald and Einar led us for some two kilometres across Strono to a small jetty where they had the boat tied. Five of us were put in the hold of the boat, where the fish catch usually was stored. We lay on the floor practically on top of each other and, to our added discomfort, a heavy tarpaulin was thrown over us. The weather had changed and for once we were blessed with a clear day. The seas were calmer than they had been, and that was an added blessing. The engine of the boat was started and we pulled out and headed onto Bjornafjord. The boat was equipped with a small diesel engine that ran smoothly, but sputtered from time to time under its heavy load.
We continued on our way; those of us in the hold were curious but oblivious to all that was happening on the water. Little information had been passed on to us and we had no idea where we were heading. Although we were in possession of a Norwegian-English dictionary, we found it difficult to learn where we were going or what was to happen to us. Einar and Torvald were not in the least bit communicative. Much later we learned that a German patrol boat had come barrelling towards us at high speed to investigate our presence. Torvald and Einar were worried that the Germans had realized how deep in the water the boat was with its heavy load and were coming to check to see what the boat's cargo consisted of. It also was the habit of the Germans to buy some of the catch of the local fishermen and there was the added probability that they were coming to attempt to buy fish. If they were told that there was no fish aboard then their suspicions would be aroused, and they would investigate to see what the hold contained. Einar and Torvald reasoned that they could not make a successful escape by trying to run for it. There was nothing they could do but to continue on with the pretext that they were out fishing. As they approached, the Germans scanned the boat with binoculars, seemed to satisfy themselves that all was in order because they turned away without a question being asked.
Fusafjord is some six and a half kilometres wide as you head north from Bjornafjord, narrowing down to slightly more than two and a half kilometres at Venganeset which is a narrow tip of land almost due east of Hattvik. For reasons unknown to us we were deposited on the tip of land opposite Hattvik and were left there. It was early afternoon and the day was bright and clear. We were equipped with a pair of strong binoculars that the Norwegians had left with us. Secreted among the foliage we took turns watching whatever movement was on the water. We were able to observe how, due to the depth of water at lands edge, the larger boats could hug the shoreline and be less conspicuous from the air.
Our friends rejoined us some time later and motioned to us to follow them. We imagined that they must have reconnoitred the area, or had contacted some one, to assure themselves that all was in order to continue on with our journey. As we were walking to where the boat had been left Einar, using the dictionary, questioned us on how many guns we carried and also wanted to know how many rounds of ammunition were aboard the aircraft. We told him that we had four guns in the turret and one in the nose, that we usually carried in excess of 20,000 bullets. He asked what had happened to the bullets and when told of how we had been forced to dispose of them, by dumping them overboard, he was beside him-self. He let us know that it was a terrible waste. To him 20,000 rounds of ammunition properly used, meant the dispatch of 20,000 Germans from Norwegian soil. I think that in some way he tried to scold us for not attempting somehow to save the ammo for his use. We were still trying to make ourselves understood when we came to the site where they had tethered the boat.
We scrambled down the embankment, entered the hold and were soon under way. We travelled for some time in a northerly direction on Fusafjord covering approximately five kilometres. As we approached Samnangerfjord we veered to a north-westerly course sustaining our steady progress for another two kilometres or so. We eventually decreased our speed and drifted in to shore.
Although our Norwegian friends had become less reserved, and had actually used the Norwegian-English dictionary in order to try to communicate with us during our discussion relating to the armament we had aboard the aircraft, they had lapsed into a complete silence and we were literally in the dark both as to our whereabouts and also as to what was taking place. It shortly became apparent that we were to meet someone and we had arrived at the rendezvous point. It was located at the mouth of a small stream that flowed down from the surrounding hills. The stream was less than a hundred feet in width and appeared to be rather shallow.
It is hard to recall the length of time we waited there; I do remember that suddenly a light appeared momentarily amongst the trees opposite us and it was evident that we were not alone. One of the Norwegians immediately shone a flashlight towards where the light had appeared as if in reply to an expected signal. As soon as he had done so, there was a sudden commotion from whoever was on the other side. Einar and Torvald reacted by jumping out of the boat, waved for us to follow and quickly ran into the trees. We were out of the boat in a flash and hurried on, endeavouring to keep up with them and not to become separated from each other. We eventually came upon a shed of sorts and the Norwegians ran to it. They managed to get a door opened and we all rushed inside.
Crowding around in a corner of the building the Norwegians took out their dictionary in order to explain what all the commotion was about. They excitedly used the Norwegian word '"fyske", meaning German, as they leafed through the dictionary. We had surmised the obvious and indicated to them that we understood. After they considered it safe, they left us, indicating that they would be back in a short while. We waited there in the dark and it was not too long before they reappeared. Sign language, our major means of communication, was used to let us know that once again we were to follow them.
Moving with extreme caution, but as fast as we possibly could, we scurried on through the trees. We did not hear nor see any sign of pursuit and when we approached a cluster of three boathouses sitting on the water’s edge, we entered the middle one, on directions of our two friends. They let us know by their actions that they were very pleased to have succeeded in getting us to the boathouse. They indicated that we should stay where we were and that they would be leaving us. Without giving us the slightest clue to what the future held for us, they quickly departed.
We were surprised when the Norwegians visited us in daylight on the mountain at Strono on Saturday, September 30th. Greetings over, they then told us that those with moustaches had to remove them, and that we all must shave then and there. They explained that this had to be done in preparation for our move that was to take place the next day, Sunday, October the first. Shaving turned out to be quite an ordeal for us, particularly for those with moustaches. We had no soap and the razors that were provided in our escape kits were extremely dull.
The reason Sunday was picked for the move was an obvious one. Hattvik, the U-boat training centre, was very active; fifteen to twenty vessels and submarines were daily scattered over the fjord near there, but on Sunday their activity was lessened. Einar Evensen had a twenty-one foot motorboat, the type very commonly used by people in the area when they were out fishing. It was felt that the Germans would not be too suspicious of that type of boat on the water at that time.
Torvald and Einar led us for some two kilometres across Strono to a small jetty where they had the boat tied. Five of us were put in the hold of the boat, where the fish catch usually was stored. We lay on the floor practically on top of each other and, to our added discomfort, a heavy tarpaulin was thrown over us. The weather had changed and for once we were blessed with a clear day. The seas were calmer than they had been, and that was an added blessing. The engine of the boat was started and we pulled out and headed onto Bjornafjord. The boat was equipped with a small diesel engine that ran smoothly, but sputtered from time to time under its heavy load.
We continued on our way; those of us in the hold were curious but oblivious to all that was happening on the water. Little information had been passed on to us and we had no idea where we were heading. Although we were in possession of a Norwegian-English dictionary, we found it difficult to learn where we were going or what was to happen to us. Einar and Torvald were not in the least bit communicative. Much later we learned that a German patrol boat had come barrelling towards us at high speed to investigate our presence. Torvald and Einar were worried that the Germans had realized how deep in the water the boat was with its heavy load and were coming to check to see what the boat's cargo consisted of. It also was the habit of the Germans to buy some of the catch of the local fishermen and there was the added probability that they were coming to attempt to buy fish. If they were told that there was no fish aboard then their suspicions would be aroused, and they would investigate to see what the hold contained. Einar and Torvald reasoned that they could not make a successful escape by trying to run for it. There was nothing they could do but to continue on with the pretext that they were out fishing. As they approached, the Germans scanned the boat with binoculars, seemed to satisfy themselves that all was in order because they turned away without a question being asked.
Fusafjord is some six and a half kilometres wide as you head north from Bjornafjord, narrowing down to slightly more than two and a half kilometres at Venganeset which is a narrow tip of land almost due east of Hattvik. For reasons unknown to us we were deposited on the tip of land opposite Hattvik and were left there. It was early afternoon and the day was bright and clear. We were equipped with a pair of strong binoculars that the Norwegians had left with us. Secreted among the foliage we took turns watching whatever movement was on the water. We were able to observe how, due to the depth of water at lands edge, the larger boats could hug the shoreline and be less conspicuous from the air.
Our friends rejoined us some time later and motioned to us to follow them. We imagined that they must have reconnoitred the area, or had contacted some one, to assure themselves that all was in order to continue on with our journey. As we were walking to where the boat had been left Einar, using the dictionary, questioned us on how many guns we carried and also wanted to know how many rounds of ammunition were aboard the aircraft. We told him that we had four guns in the turret and one in the nose, that we usually carried in excess of 20,000 bullets. He asked what had happened to the bullets and when told of how we had been forced to dispose of them, by dumping them overboard, he was beside him-self. He let us know that it was a terrible waste. To him 20,000 rounds of ammunition properly used, meant the dispatch of 20,000 Germans from Norwegian soil. I think that in some way he tried to scold us for not attempting somehow to save the ammo for his use. We were still trying to make ourselves understood when we came to the site where they had tethered the boat.
We scrambled down the embankment, entered the hold and were soon under way. We travelled for some time in a northerly direction on Fusafjord covering approximately five kilometres. As we approached Samnangerfjord we veered to a north-westerly course sustaining our steady progress for another two kilometres or so. We eventually decreased our speed and drifted in to shore.
Although our Norwegian friends had become less reserved, and had actually used the Norwegian-English dictionary in order to try to communicate with us during our discussion relating to the armament we had aboard the aircraft, they had lapsed into a complete silence and we were literally in the dark both as to our whereabouts and also as to what was taking place. It shortly became apparent that we were to meet someone and we had arrived at the rendezvous point. It was located at the mouth of a small stream that flowed down from the surrounding hills. The stream was less than a hundred feet in width and appeared to be rather shallow.
It is hard to recall the length of time we waited there; I do remember that suddenly a light appeared momentarily amongst the trees opposite us and it was evident that we were not alone. One of the Norwegians immediately shone a flashlight towards where the light had appeared as if in reply to an expected signal. As soon as he had done so, there was a sudden commotion from whoever was on the other side. Einar and Torvald reacted by jumping out of the boat, waved for us to follow and quickly ran into the trees. We were out of the boat in a flash and hurried on, endeavouring to keep up with them and not to become separated from each other. We eventually came upon a shed of sorts and the Norwegians ran to it. They managed to get a door opened and we all rushed inside.
Crowding around in a corner of the building the Norwegians took out their dictionary in order to explain what all the commotion was about. They excitedly used the Norwegian word '"fyske", meaning German, as they leafed through the dictionary. We had surmised the obvious and indicated to them that we understood. After they considered it safe, they left us, indicating that they would be back in a short while. We waited there in the dark and it was not too long before they reappeared. Sign language, our major means of communication, was used to let us know that once again we were to follow them.
Moving with extreme caution, but as fast as we possibly could, we scurried on through the trees. We did not hear nor see any sign of pursuit and when we approached a cluster of three boathouses sitting on the water’s edge, we entered the middle one, on directions of our two friends. They let us know by their actions that they were very pleased to have succeeded in getting us to the boathouse. They indicated that we should stay where we were and that they would be leaving us. Without giving us the slightest clue to what the future held for us, they quickly departed.