October 1 - 2, 1944, Night
Mowinckel Nilsen returned soon, along with Hjelle and Øvredal, and the entire group headed out. They walked a kilometre to a farmhouse where several people were waiting for them. Two of the Norwegians stood guard, one at the main door and one out on the road. A man in the living room asked his “honourable guests” in good English to sit at the table and told them that it was not every day he had people like them on his guest list. Meanwhile, Marta Øvredal and another women were busy in the kitchen preparing food.
Their host told them that now they would get good hot food, rest a bit, and the resume their hike. It would be a fairly demanding hike, and he hoped that these good Canadians were used to climbing in the mountains. “By the way, what is the highest mountain in Canada?”
“Mount Logan,” came the reply, about 19,000 feet (6,000 meters) high. After this somewhat obscure questioning [28], they were served porridge. A large rustic pot was placed in the middle of the table so they could help themselves as needed. After their hit and miss menu in the boathouse and shelter, the guests were glad to get hot food.
For a change, there were no problems with communications – both Mowinckel Nilsen and the other English-speakers translated on the fly from English into Norwegian and vice versa. There was an almost jovial mood at the table, now that the strain of the boat trip and the experience down at the boathouse began to fade.
While they ate, Mowinckel Nilsen asked where their base was in England. They shifted uncomfortably and said that they could not give him any information about the airfield. He assured them that they did not need to worry about it. He then said that he had fled to England two and a half years before, and now he planned sabotage and other covert operations in Norway. Among other things, he had spent some months in a training area in Scotland before being sent back to his home country. The aircrew believed that he told the truth, but they were suspicious when he asked where their base was and what their mission was. You had to be careful with what you said those days.
The nagging doubts about their situation resurfaced for the Canadians. Could the whole rescue from the first day be just a skillful plot to obtain information from them? Perhaps Long John said so much about himself because he thought they would reciprocate. It was a difficult balancing act. On the one hand, they were grateful for all that had been done for them, but on the other hand they had to deal with the uncertainty that they were doing their best to hide. One factor in Long John's favour was how well he spoke English, which they had noticed when he first visited them. Mowinckel Nilsen pointed out that it was important that they give him some proof of who they were, in order to prove to the appropriate authorities in England that they really were who they claimed to be. Could they, for example, let him know some characteristic feature of the crew?
The crew exchanged a few words among themselves and agreed that they should mention Firestone's nickname – Red. He got the nickname because of his red hair, and no one in the squadron referred to him as anything other than Red. Indeed some members of the squadron did not even know his real name. Mowinckel Nilsen then told them about the rumour his people had circulated that eight heavily armed commandos had been on board the aircraft in order to make the Germans more cautious.
The mood eased after this exchange of information, and became even easier when he changed the subject to something more immediate and concrete. He told them that their boots were unsuitable for the next stage, and that other footwear was being provided. That turned out to be well-worn rubber boots and wool socks.
The recipients were more than happy to trade shoes. Firestone had been without proper shoes for most of the time and to make things worse had burned holes in his socks trying to dry them out on a lantern. They were also given hiking clothes and a rucksack. They thanked their hosts for all the food and headed outside.
Mowinckel Nilsen returned soon, along with Hjelle and Øvredal, and the entire group headed out. They walked a kilometre to a farmhouse where several people were waiting for them. Two of the Norwegians stood guard, one at the main door and one out on the road. A man in the living room asked his “honourable guests” in good English to sit at the table and told them that it was not every day he had people like them on his guest list. Meanwhile, Marta Øvredal and another women were busy in the kitchen preparing food.
Their host told them that now they would get good hot food, rest a bit, and the resume their hike. It would be a fairly demanding hike, and he hoped that these good Canadians were used to climbing in the mountains. “By the way, what is the highest mountain in Canada?”
“Mount Logan,” came the reply, about 19,000 feet (6,000 meters) high. After this somewhat obscure questioning [28], they were served porridge. A large rustic pot was placed in the middle of the table so they could help themselves as needed. After their hit and miss menu in the boathouse and shelter, the guests were glad to get hot food.
For a change, there were no problems with communications – both Mowinckel Nilsen and the other English-speakers translated on the fly from English into Norwegian and vice versa. There was an almost jovial mood at the table, now that the strain of the boat trip and the experience down at the boathouse began to fade.
While they ate, Mowinckel Nilsen asked where their base was in England. They shifted uncomfortably and said that they could not give him any information about the airfield. He assured them that they did not need to worry about it. He then said that he had fled to England two and a half years before, and now he planned sabotage and other covert operations in Norway. Among other things, he had spent some months in a training area in Scotland before being sent back to his home country. The aircrew believed that he told the truth, but they were suspicious when he asked where their base was and what their mission was. You had to be careful with what you said those days.
The nagging doubts about their situation resurfaced for the Canadians. Could the whole rescue from the first day be just a skillful plot to obtain information from them? Perhaps Long John said so much about himself because he thought they would reciprocate. It was a difficult balancing act. On the one hand, they were grateful for all that had been done for them, but on the other hand they had to deal with the uncertainty that they were doing their best to hide. One factor in Long John's favour was how well he spoke English, which they had noticed when he first visited them. Mowinckel Nilsen pointed out that it was important that they give him some proof of who they were, in order to prove to the appropriate authorities in England that they really were who they claimed to be. Could they, for example, let him know some characteristic feature of the crew?
The crew exchanged a few words among themselves and agreed that they should mention Firestone's nickname – Red. He got the nickname because of his red hair, and no one in the squadron referred to him as anything other than Red. Indeed some members of the squadron did not even know his real name. Mowinckel Nilsen then told them about the rumour his people had circulated that eight heavily armed commandos had been on board the aircraft in order to make the Germans more cautious.
The mood eased after this exchange of information, and became even easier when he changed the subject to something more immediate and concrete. He told them that their boots were unsuitable for the next stage, and that other footwear was being provided. That turned out to be well-worn rubber boots and wool socks.
The recipients were more than happy to trade shoes. Firestone had been without proper shoes for most of the time and to make things worse had burned holes in his socks trying to dry them out on a lantern. They were also given hiking clothes and a rucksack. They thanked their hosts for all the food and headed outside.
Lake at Lønningdal
Energized after the meal, they set out on a narrow path. They were a motley group – the crew with their unaccustomed jackets outside their uniforms, some with hats on their heads and others not. The Norwegians had on full fishermen's rain gear. In the backpacks, Mowinckel Nilsen and Hjelle had distributed mess-kits, cookware, food and sleeping bags. The backpacks seemed enormous in the dark, but they were, in Mowinckel Nilsen's words: “only 25 kilos.”
Jakob Hjelle and Haldor Øvredal led the way. After them came George Grandy, Ken Graham, and George Death. Behind them were Long John (Helén Mowinckel Nilsen) with Gordon Biddle on one side and Maurice Neil on the other. At Harvey Firestone's side in the rear of the group was the man who had invited them to sit and eat. He was a thin young man about 20 years old and as tall as Mowinckel Nilsen. He spoke in a cheerful tone and had introduced himself as Long Kjell. “Long” was easy enough, but for the Canadians, Kjell was a tongue-twister.
His full real name was Kjell Harmens. He was a member of Milorg in Fana. Mowinckel Nilsen had mobilized him for this job both because of his language ability and because he was known for his calm in difficult siutations.
The rain stayed with them. Mowinckel Nilsen took off his raincoat and draped it over Death's shoulders. The group left the open fields and headed into the forest.
They marched in the dark until they came to a cascading stream. They had not been able to find enough rubber boots, so Firestone had to make do with ordinary shoes. Even if they were not totally waterproof, they were a definite improvement, and it was good to have new knitted wool socks.
The leaders crossed a stream and the others followed. Harmens knew that Firestone did not have proper boots, and offered to carry him on his back. Firestone hesitated, because he thought that his backpack was heavy, and that it would be too much for Lange Kjell to carry a man, even one who was a foot shorter and two backpacks. Harmens, who was always ready to try anything, took his backpack in his hand and told his new acquaintance to hop on his back. Lange Kjell was obviously a joker, because in the middle of the stream he stopped and said with a grin that it was time to jump off. “A promise is a promise,” replied the man on his back.
They came to a valley with steep slopes on both sides. In front of them was a long, narrow lake. On the shore near them was a dory. They put the bags in it, pushed out, and stepped on board. Mowinckel Nilsen sat in the rear with a machine pistol at his feet.
The dory had a tendency to swing to one side if the rowers did not put equal force into their strokes, which meant that neither rower could take it easy and let the other do the work. One of the rowers complained about the other, and they had mildly heated conversation about it. Long Kjell translated for Firestone and added that this was a typically Norwegian discussion.
They reached a small scattering of houses on the far shore after half a kilometre of rowing. Mowinckel Nilsen told them not to say a single word until they were well past the houses. The residents were reliable enough, but the less they saw and knew, the better their chances of surviving a Gestapo interrogation.
They drew the boat onto land, and left it so that it could be used by the next person to need it. Then they took their packs and headed out over the fields and passed a few darkened houses. They couldn't see or hear anyone. It was so dark when they reached the forest at the base of the escarpment that the leaders had trouble recognizing exactly where they were.
Slowly but surely they made their way through the trees up the escarpment, at times climbing steep and slippery rocks. Mowinckel Nilsen said that there was no choice but to keep on climbing straight up. If they hadn't done so before, the Canadians now knew why had had asked about their mountain climbing experience.
Hjelle and Øvredal showed that it was best to keep their heads up as they climbed the rocks. The fliers tried their best to follow after them. If they had made slow progress before, it was even slower as they made their way up the steep slope. Mowinckel Nilsen saw that one of the Canadians was having problems and took the Canadian's pack and carried it in his hand. He insisted that there was not far to go. When they finally got to the top of the steepest section of rock, they had to sit and recover their breath before they resumed their climb.
In the darkness, the Canadians could not see the top. They just had to grit their teeth and keep on going with their pulses pounding. They wondered what Long John had meant by “not far.” He must have said that just to encourage them. But ultimately they reached the crest of the mountain, where they took a ten minute break.
Now Mowinckel Nilsen said that it was still some distance to the cabin, but the terrain for the rest of the journey would be easy and they would have plenty of time to rest when they got to their destination. They continued into the trees, with Hjelle and Øvredal still leading. It was starting to get light when they could finally see a small hut among the trees.
The Canadians later learned that the hut was four and a half kilometres from Lønningdal as the crow flies, but that they had walked six kilometres, in addition to the boat journey. A young man came out of the cabin door and greeted them. It was obvious they were expected.