Magnus Askvik, headmaster of the Søre Neset school, was up in the early morning on September 26, 1944. He and his family lived in the teacher's residence at the school. He opened a history book to prepare for another day in the school room. War or no war, children had to have their daily dose of immortal Norwegian heroes and to hear about Israel's long exile in Egypt.
For his students' sake, Askvik fervently wished that the occupation would soon be a thing of the past. The children wore clogs and hand-me-down clothes. Their lunch sacks were filled with black bread sandwiches with some mushy floury substance substituting for butter or margarine [9]. Askvik had at times told his students that when the war was finally over, they could have grapes and bananas, which they could now only read about in geography books. They always had a dreamy look in their eyes when he told them that.
His eyes and thoughts strayed from the book when he heard an aircraft to the west, followed by a furious barrage. Although it was already light outside, he put out the lights just in case [10], went to the window and opened the blinds.
A twin-engined aircraft was over Bjørnafjord, and Askvik immediately knew it was not German. He suspected that its target was a cargo ship that he saw out in the fjord. But it did change course or diver to attack it. He wondered why the barrage seemed to stop for a while.
The plane continued on an easterly course over Søre Neset at an unusually low altitude, which could mean that its target was the Hatvik u-boat base on Bjørnafjord. The lower its approach, the greater chance it would surprise the u-boat base.
However, Askvik could not hear a single shot from the plane. When the aircraft was over Hatvik, it turned and headed out over the fjord. It first made a turn towards Osøyri and was out of sight for a moment, but then it appeared again with a roar heading straight towards him over the treetops.
It was now clear to Askvik that something was wrong with the plane. He saw the nose of the plane pointed directly at the school house, and thanked the powers that be that his students have not yet arrived. Then the roar of the engine stopped.
The plane came in over the houses just east of the school. Askvik saw, as if in slow-motion, one of the plane's lights disappear behind some trees, then one wing of the plane strike some pine trees close to a house, cutting four-inch branches right off. The plane tore through some fence poles, then one wing snagged on a mound of earth, causing the plane to pitch forward into the ground, finally stopping in the field in front of the school.
Askvik's greatest fear was that the plane would burst into flames, but he did not smell smoke or see any fire. He grabbed a jacket, put on his boots, and hurried out to the plane. To his great surprise and relief, he could see the crew crawl out of the plane one by one until six of them were standing there. One of them was holding his head.
People from the nearby houses left their breakfast tables and assembled in a semicircle, staring at the uniforms of the Allied crew members – uniforms of a type they had not seen in Norway for years. The youngsters looked at them like they were men from the moon come for a visit. Their eyes wandered up and down over the huge plane standing there with one wing on the ground, the other high in the air, and the tail at an angle.
From the other point of view, Neil thought that the crowd seemed calm under the circumstances, and sensed that this crowd did not present a danger to the crew, even though they were in a country with a Quisling regime and under German occupation. Askvik was at the front of the crowd, and he asked if he could help in any way.
For the Canadians, Norway was an unknown outpost at the edge of the world, so they were amazed that the first person they had contact with could speak almost perfect English. Furthermore, it was not hard to read his body language – this person was an ally. The first thing they asked him was if he could tell them exactly where they were.
He pointed to a hilltop not far away, where people were scurrying around, and said that there would be little time for explanation because those people were German soldiers and would soon be here. “Is Sweden far away?” asked one of the crew, who appeared to be in charge.
“More than fifty Norwegian miles”[11] replied the teacher, who informed them they should not think of trying to reach Sweden, at least not at first. He told them briefly that they they had landed about three Norwegian miles southeast of Bergen and emphasized that the Germans had barracks and bases nearby. He told them not to wait, pointing out in words and with his finger that a German garrison was stationed at Halhjem at the edge of the sea, one kilometre from where they now stood, and was surely now on its way.
Askvik sensed that the aircrew felt hopeless and that they thought their only alternative was to surrender. He believed strongly that this would be wrong. He pointed to a trail running to a spit of land that juts into Bjørnafjord and told them to go down the trail all the way to the end. A man who spoke English lived at the end of the path. If he was not at home, they should continue on where they would find a house where two sisters lived, and they were safe to talk to.
The information seemed to lift the crew's spirits. They thanked Askvik for the information and busied themselves to get ready to head off. One of them bandaged Maurice Neil's bleeding head with bandages from a first aid kit, while two others made sure they had left nothing on the plane that could be of value to the Germans. They then tried to burn the plane.
The aircraft had been burning while in flight, which they did not want, but now on the ground, when they wanted it to burn, they could not get it to catch fire. They tried the special incendiary devices that the aircraft had just for situations like this, but they did not work. Firestone scrambled into the plane and grabbed the Very pistol and the rest of the cartridges. He fired a round into the plane from a distance, but without effect. He went right back to the plane and peered in. He saw a pool of what looked like oil, aimed at it and pulled the trigger. The plane was burning once again.
In the few minutes while this was going on, even more spectators had gathered (about 30 by Firestone's estimate) and even more were on the way. As thanks for his help, Harvey handed the Very pistol to Askvik and then the crew headed down the trail and waved good-bye.
The crowd melted away, but watched as the strangers disappeared below a hillside. Askvik's 13-year old son, Ottar, who had a keen interest in airplanes and hoped to be a pilot one day [12] , sprinted to the edge of the hill and stood looking after them. One of the adults shouted that it was time to head back into their houses before the Germans showed up and before the plane exploded. Smoke rose from the bomber, which was now by itself on the hillside.
What saved the Canadians, apart from Biddle's incredible landing, was the pure luck that there was no German guard at nearby Halhjem that morning. The garrison troops had been ordered to a different location the previous day, and the new troops would not arrive until the next day.
For his students' sake, Askvik fervently wished that the occupation would soon be a thing of the past. The children wore clogs and hand-me-down clothes. Their lunch sacks were filled with black bread sandwiches with some mushy floury substance substituting for butter or margarine [9]. Askvik had at times told his students that when the war was finally over, they could have grapes and bananas, which they could now only read about in geography books. They always had a dreamy look in their eyes when he told them that.
His eyes and thoughts strayed from the book when he heard an aircraft to the west, followed by a furious barrage. Although it was already light outside, he put out the lights just in case [10], went to the window and opened the blinds.
A twin-engined aircraft was over Bjørnafjord, and Askvik immediately knew it was not German. He suspected that its target was a cargo ship that he saw out in the fjord. But it did change course or diver to attack it. He wondered why the barrage seemed to stop for a while.
The plane continued on an easterly course over Søre Neset at an unusually low altitude, which could mean that its target was the Hatvik u-boat base on Bjørnafjord. The lower its approach, the greater chance it would surprise the u-boat base.
However, Askvik could not hear a single shot from the plane. When the aircraft was over Hatvik, it turned and headed out over the fjord. It first made a turn towards Osøyri and was out of sight for a moment, but then it appeared again with a roar heading straight towards him over the treetops.
It was now clear to Askvik that something was wrong with the plane. He saw the nose of the plane pointed directly at the school house, and thanked the powers that be that his students have not yet arrived. Then the roar of the engine stopped.
The plane came in over the houses just east of the school. Askvik saw, as if in slow-motion, one of the plane's lights disappear behind some trees, then one wing of the plane strike some pine trees close to a house, cutting four-inch branches right off. The plane tore through some fence poles, then one wing snagged on a mound of earth, causing the plane to pitch forward into the ground, finally stopping in the field in front of the school.
Askvik's greatest fear was that the plane would burst into flames, but he did not smell smoke or see any fire. He grabbed a jacket, put on his boots, and hurried out to the plane. To his great surprise and relief, he could see the crew crawl out of the plane one by one until six of them were standing there. One of them was holding his head.
People from the nearby houses left their breakfast tables and assembled in a semicircle, staring at the uniforms of the Allied crew members – uniforms of a type they had not seen in Norway for years. The youngsters looked at them like they were men from the moon come for a visit. Their eyes wandered up and down over the huge plane standing there with one wing on the ground, the other high in the air, and the tail at an angle.
From the other point of view, Neil thought that the crowd seemed calm under the circumstances, and sensed that this crowd did not present a danger to the crew, even though they were in a country with a Quisling regime and under German occupation. Askvik was at the front of the crowd, and he asked if he could help in any way.
For the Canadians, Norway was an unknown outpost at the edge of the world, so they were amazed that the first person they had contact with could speak almost perfect English. Furthermore, it was not hard to read his body language – this person was an ally. The first thing they asked him was if he could tell them exactly where they were.
He pointed to a hilltop not far away, where people were scurrying around, and said that there would be little time for explanation because those people were German soldiers and would soon be here. “Is Sweden far away?” asked one of the crew, who appeared to be in charge.
“More than fifty Norwegian miles”[11] replied the teacher, who informed them they should not think of trying to reach Sweden, at least not at first. He told them briefly that they they had landed about three Norwegian miles southeast of Bergen and emphasized that the Germans had barracks and bases nearby. He told them not to wait, pointing out in words and with his finger that a German garrison was stationed at Halhjem at the edge of the sea, one kilometre from where they now stood, and was surely now on its way.
Askvik sensed that the aircrew felt hopeless and that they thought their only alternative was to surrender. He believed strongly that this would be wrong. He pointed to a trail running to a spit of land that juts into Bjørnafjord and told them to go down the trail all the way to the end. A man who spoke English lived at the end of the path. If he was not at home, they should continue on where they would find a house where two sisters lived, and they were safe to talk to.
The information seemed to lift the crew's spirits. They thanked Askvik for the information and busied themselves to get ready to head off. One of them bandaged Maurice Neil's bleeding head with bandages from a first aid kit, while two others made sure they had left nothing on the plane that could be of value to the Germans. They then tried to burn the plane.
The aircraft had been burning while in flight, which they did not want, but now on the ground, when they wanted it to burn, they could not get it to catch fire. They tried the special incendiary devices that the aircraft had just for situations like this, but they did not work. Firestone scrambled into the plane and grabbed the Very pistol and the rest of the cartridges. He fired a round into the plane from a distance, but without effect. He went right back to the plane and peered in. He saw a pool of what looked like oil, aimed at it and pulled the trigger. The plane was burning once again.
In the few minutes while this was going on, even more spectators had gathered (about 30 by Firestone's estimate) and even more were on the way. As thanks for his help, Harvey handed the Very pistol to Askvik and then the crew headed down the trail and waved good-bye.
The crowd melted away, but watched as the strangers disappeared below a hillside. Askvik's 13-year old son, Ottar, who had a keen interest in airplanes and hoped to be a pilot one day [12] , sprinted to the edge of the hill and stood looking after them. One of the adults shouted that it was time to head back into their houses before the Germans showed up and before the plane exploded. Smoke rose from the bomber, which was now by itself on the hillside.
What saved the Canadians, apart from Biddle's incredible landing, was the pure luck that there was no German guard at nearby Halhjem that morning. The garrison troops had been ordered to a different location the previous day, and the new troops would not arrive until the next day.