The Vigra
When we climbed aboard the Vigra at about 2 a.m. on Friday October 13th, it seemed to all of us that this was the beginning of the end of our adventure. We immediately set forth to help the crew unload the boxes of arms and ammunition that the sub-chaser had brought from Scotland. Everyone worked very fast and in about half an hour we were told to go down below for dinner. The cook served us a delicious meal, the second best in the last three weeks. We all had second helpings, not realizing that we were going to lose it all in the next few hours.
Shortly after dinner Lief Larsen, the Captain, started the engines and the mooring lines were cast off from the dock in the secluded inlet. We were told that we were in for a rough ride and we had better get some rest, however, I decided to go up to the bridge and join the captain. He was maneuvering the Vigra carefully out into the narrow fjord, and then he slowly opened the throttles. The MTB, which was about 110 feet in length, seemed to leap forward. The water was very calm and tonight was quite bright with a full moon. The ship appeared to be running at top speed with no running lights and very little in the way of navigational aids or so it seemed. The Skipper was certain that they could outrun any German patrol boats they might encounter. Also the Vigra carried two sets of guns, one turret near the bow and the other aft, and they would not hesitate to use them if intercepted. In a short while we entered the Bjoren Fjord and the open water became quite choppy as the wind was now blowing strongly from the west, Before we had been in the shelter of the narrow inlet and I was really enjoying the excitement of the ride, however, now as the roll on the sea became more pronounced my stomach was also starting to roll.
When we reached the last part of the land shelter and swung into the open North Sea we ran into strong gale force winds. I then knew what he meant when the captain said we were in for a rough ride. He told us to go below, find a spare bunk and hang on to a safety pole. For the next several hours the Vegra pounded its way through the heavy seas. The small ship would rise high out of the water on the wave crest and then crash down into the trough. The skipper was continually juggling the engine throttles to smooth the ride. The constant pounding of the MTB in the rough water finally got to my stomach and I spent about two hours with my head over a basin, throwing-up. My mind was made up that I would never join the Navy.
About noon I ventured back up on deck and was told we would be arriving at Sumburgh in the Shetland Islands in about three hours. The sea was still running very high but I was finally able to stand up, although my stomach wasn't having any part of this trip.
In February 1971, the British Ministry of Veteran's Affairs in London, England requested the major Norwegian participants in our evasion of capture to report on the events that took place after the Canadian Wellington aircraft crash-landed on September 26th, 1944. From these reports prepared by Helen Nilsen, Einar Evensen, Haldor Ovredal, and others, we learned a great deal about the behind the scenes activities of the Norwegian resistance movement, and of the tremendous risks which they took on our behalf. In the words of Haldor they succeeded because of three factors - audacity, fantastic luck and a little efficiency. Six Canadian air-men will be forever indebted to these Norwegians who at great personal risk helped us in our time of need.
We learned that Hanna Bjoren, the sister of Inge, was captured in November 1944 and was severely treated until released at the end of the war. Einar Evensen's 71 year old mother was also captured and was near death when released by the Allies in May of 1945.
Shortly after dinner Lief Larsen, the Captain, started the engines and the mooring lines were cast off from the dock in the secluded inlet. We were told that we were in for a rough ride and we had better get some rest, however, I decided to go up to the bridge and join the captain. He was maneuvering the Vigra carefully out into the narrow fjord, and then he slowly opened the throttles. The MTB, which was about 110 feet in length, seemed to leap forward. The water was very calm and tonight was quite bright with a full moon. The ship appeared to be running at top speed with no running lights and very little in the way of navigational aids or so it seemed. The Skipper was certain that they could outrun any German patrol boats they might encounter. Also the Vigra carried two sets of guns, one turret near the bow and the other aft, and they would not hesitate to use them if intercepted. In a short while we entered the Bjoren Fjord and the open water became quite choppy as the wind was now blowing strongly from the west, Before we had been in the shelter of the narrow inlet and I was really enjoying the excitement of the ride, however, now as the roll on the sea became more pronounced my stomach was also starting to roll.
When we reached the last part of the land shelter and swung into the open North Sea we ran into strong gale force winds. I then knew what he meant when the captain said we were in for a rough ride. He told us to go below, find a spare bunk and hang on to a safety pole. For the next several hours the Vegra pounded its way through the heavy seas. The small ship would rise high out of the water on the wave crest and then crash down into the trough. The skipper was continually juggling the engine throttles to smooth the ride. The constant pounding of the MTB in the rough water finally got to my stomach and I spent about two hours with my head over a basin, throwing-up. My mind was made up that I would never join the Navy.
About noon I ventured back up on deck and was told we would be arriving at Sumburgh in the Shetland Islands in about three hours. The sea was still running very high but I was finally able to stand up, although my stomach wasn't having any part of this trip.
In February 1971, the British Ministry of Veteran's Affairs in London, England requested the major Norwegian participants in our evasion of capture to report on the events that took place after the Canadian Wellington aircraft crash-landed on September 26th, 1944. From these reports prepared by Helen Nilsen, Einar Evensen, Haldor Ovredal, and others, we learned a great deal about the behind the scenes activities of the Norwegian resistance movement, and of the tremendous risks which they took on our behalf. In the words of Haldor they succeeded because of three factors - audacity, fantastic luck and a little efficiency. Six Canadian air-men will be forever indebted to these Norwegians who at great personal risk helped us in our time of need.
We learned that Hanna Bjoren, the sister of Inge, was captured in November 1944 and was severely treated until released at the end of the war. Einar Evensen's 71 year old mother was also captured and was near death when released by the Allies in May of 1945.
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The Vigra
