The Shetland Bus
We spent the third day much like the second. Fortunately the sick in our group had recovered somewhat. We were a thirsty, hungry and sleepy band, resigned to the fact that we had no other option but to remain where we were. We settled in to wait for nightfall. As darkness descended, we became very uneasy, voicing our concerns at spending another night and day in the hut, as we were positive that we would not be picked-up in daylight. We sat quietly in the dark waiting, each engrossed with his own thoughts, when suddenly Sverre Ostervoll appeared. It is amazing that we did not hear him approach. The first indication we had that he had arrived was a light tapping on the wall. He had cut the engines of his boat and had drifted quietly to the shore. He had a very hectic trip to reach us eluding three German boats en route.
He hurriedly shepherded us onto his boat, and we were on our way. It was very dark, and it is amazing that he was able to see where he was heading. The boat was extremely fast; and it seemed to be moving at full throttle. We travelled at high speed for some time, and then suddenly he throttled back, and we could see, looming out of the darkness, a large ship. Sverre slowed the boat and manoeuvred it close to a rope ladder suspended from the railing above our heads. We climbed the ladder, and as we got to the deck a number of sailors helped us over the railing. We had expected a British ship and when we saw the strange sailor hats they were wearing we momentarily thought we were in the hands of the Germans, as their hats were so similar.
We were led to a galley of the ship, where we were treated to hot tea, coffee and toast. The sailors with us explained that other members of the crew were off-loading ammunitions and supplies and that as soon as they were through, we would be on our way to the Shetlands. They revealed that they had arrived some time before and were preparing to leave, when we arrived. The captain knew we were to be there but they did not. We had been on board only a very short time when we were on our way. We had made it with no time to spare.
We were told that Sverre Ostervoll, due to his knowledge of the Norwegian coastline and his skill as a seaman, for a long period of time had been transporting cargo and refugees to and from the ships.
The stories of heroism and adventure at sea, which ancient Norsemen liked to tell, related to the Vikings of old who sailed the seas between Norway and the Shetlands. Most of the tales related to the difficulties encountered in crossing the North Sea in a storm, as the waters between Norway and the Shetland are among the stormiest in the world.
The saga of the Shetland Bus is a modern story of the many crossings of the North Sea made by a small group of Norwegians who were living in exile. They used the Shetlands as a base for expeditions to the Norwegian coast where they landed weapons and supplies and rescued refugees.
Amongst these brave and daring men, a descendant of the Vikings of old stood out above the others. The sagas of his many adventures will live in the annals of Norway, as do the stories of his forefathers. This man is Leif Larsen who, as a Norwegian sailor, has more British medals than anyone else has ever been awarded. He became known as "Shetland" Larsen and is a legend in his time.
The ship, captained by Leif Larsen, was called "Vigra." It was a one hundred and ten foot long, American built sub-chaser. It had actually been further north, up the coast, the previous night but had to lay over due to the weather.
After midnight on October 12th, we headed west toward Scalloway in the Shetland Islands. A terrible storm had blown up and we crossed the North Sea in a raging gale. Visibility was almost non-existent from the bridge; conditions became so severe no one could be on deck. The ship was tossed about so fiercely that it was almost impossible to stand or walk about. Conditions became so bad that it was suggested that we all go below and try to sleep. We were shown to the crews quarters and took to the bunks assigned to us. Seasickness overtook almost everyone aboard. I was the only one of our crew who was able to sleep although it was not for long.
A short nap was all I had; I was awakened by one of the crew members who told me that the two wireless operators were too sick to stand watch and the captain wanted know if I could manage their radio equipment. I spent most of the night taking incoming messages. The weather abated during the afternoon and finally, late in the day after a very rough crossing, we sighted the Shetland Islands. We were informed that we were to berth at Scalloway, the home port of Vigra. We had returned at long last from our patrol; but not in the manner usually acceptable, as duty properly carried out.
We spent the third day much like the second. Fortunately the sick in our group had recovered somewhat. We were a thirsty, hungry and sleepy band, resigned to the fact that we had no other option but to remain where we were. We settled in to wait for nightfall. As darkness descended, we became very uneasy, voicing our concerns at spending another night and day in the hut, as we were positive that we would not be picked-up in daylight. We sat quietly in the dark waiting, each engrossed with his own thoughts, when suddenly Sverre Ostervoll appeared. It is amazing that we did not hear him approach. The first indication we had that he had arrived was a light tapping on the wall. He had cut the engines of his boat and had drifted quietly to the shore. He had a very hectic trip to reach us eluding three German boats en route.
He hurriedly shepherded us onto his boat, and we were on our way. It was very dark, and it is amazing that he was able to see where he was heading. The boat was extremely fast; and it seemed to be moving at full throttle. We travelled at high speed for some time, and then suddenly he throttled back, and we could see, looming out of the darkness, a large ship. Sverre slowed the boat and manoeuvred it close to a rope ladder suspended from the railing above our heads. We climbed the ladder, and as we got to the deck a number of sailors helped us over the railing. We had expected a British ship and when we saw the strange sailor hats they were wearing we momentarily thought we were in the hands of the Germans, as their hats were so similar.
We were led to a galley of the ship, where we were treated to hot tea, coffee and toast. The sailors with us explained that other members of the crew were off-loading ammunitions and supplies and that as soon as they were through, we would be on our way to the Shetlands. They revealed that they had arrived some time before and were preparing to leave, when we arrived. The captain knew we were to be there but they did not. We had been on board only a very short time when we were on our way. We had made it with no time to spare.
We were told that Sverre Ostervoll, due to his knowledge of the Norwegian coastline and his skill as a seaman, for a long period of time had been transporting cargo and refugees to and from the ships.
The stories of heroism and adventure at sea, which ancient Norsemen liked to tell, related to the Vikings of old who sailed the seas between Norway and the Shetlands. Most of the tales related to the difficulties encountered in crossing the North Sea in a storm, as the waters between Norway and the Shetland are among the stormiest in the world.
The saga of the Shetland Bus is a modern story of the many crossings of the North Sea made by a small group of Norwegians who were living in exile. They used the Shetlands as a base for expeditions to the Norwegian coast where they landed weapons and supplies and rescued refugees.
Amongst these brave and daring men, a descendant of the Vikings of old stood out above the others. The sagas of his many adventures will live in the annals of Norway, as do the stories of his forefathers. This man is Leif Larsen who, as a Norwegian sailor, has more British medals than anyone else has ever been awarded. He became known as "Shetland" Larsen and is a legend in his time.
The ship, captained by Leif Larsen, was called "Vigra." It was a one hundred and ten foot long, American built sub-chaser. It had actually been further north, up the coast, the previous night but had to lay over due to the weather.
After midnight on October 12th, we headed west toward Scalloway in the Shetland Islands. A terrible storm had blown up and we crossed the North Sea in a raging gale. Visibility was almost non-existent from the bridge; conditions became so severe no one could be on deck. The ship was tossed about so fiercely that it was almost impossible to stand or walk about. Conditions became so bad that it was suggested that we all go below and try to sleep. We were shown to the crews quarters and took to the bunks assigned to us. Seasickness overtook almost everyone aboard. I was the only one of our crew who was able to sleep although it was not for long.
A short nap was all I had; I was awakened by one of the crew members who told me that the two wireless operators were too sick to stand watch and the captain wanted know if I could manage their radio equipment. I spent most of the night taking incoming messages. The weather abated during the afternoon and finally, late in the day after a very rough crossing, we sighted the Shetland Islands. We were informed that we were to berth at Scalloway, the home port of Vigra. We had returned at long last from our patrol; but not in the manner usually acceptable, as duty properly carried out.
