Authors: James Holland
They skirted the lake, then turned north-west, back
under the protection of the forest and beneath the snowcapped peak of the
Bringsfjellet. There was birdsong: the first Tanner had heard since he'd arrived
in Norway. Among the pines and silver birch he could pick out a missel-thrush,
a lark, and even a woodpecker. His mood lightened.
Aircraft appeared occasionally in the sky and at one
point a Messerschmitt 110 had swept by close enough to make them take cover,
but otherwise they had not seen a soul. By evening they were approaching the
Otta valley, only a few miles from Vagamo, the small town that Tanner hoped
would provide the gateway for their continued escape north.
They found a boarded-up
seter
among the trees beside a
mountain brook, shielded behind a wooded outcrop. It was, Tanner knew with
satisfaction, a good place to base themselves while they prepared the crossing.
Hidden from the air by the dense covering of surrounding birch, alder and pine,
it was also shielded from the valley below. On the other hand, the outcrop,
climbing sharply half a mile beyond, would provide an ideal observation post
from which they could watch the town and the lake.
He had barely spoken a word to Chevannes since he had
hit the man the day before, so he turned now to Larsen and the professor. 'We
need to have a look round,' he said, 'perhaps from this knoll.'
As he had hoped, Larsen suggested this to Chevannes,
who silently concurred. Leaving the others at the
seter,
Tanner climbed through the
trees, scrambling over patches of bare rock, until he reached the summit. From
there the view stretched far and wide, the valley before them and the mountains
on the far side in sharply defined clarity. With his naked eye, Tanner spotted
the bridge crossing the mouth of the river, and the road along which he hoped
they could escape, snaking through a valley to the north-west of the town. Now
he peered through his binoculars. The bridge was of iron construction with
wooden boarding across it, seventy to a hundred feet wide, he guessed. The town
itself was set back from the river and, he now realized, spread more round a
small, lesser river coming down from the valley beyond. He cursed; he'd not
noticed that on Anna's map. Dark timber-framed buildings lined the main road
and there was a wooden church, with what looked like a separate bell-tower next
to it. And, yes, trucks and German military vehicles parked round an open area
beside the church.
'The enemy is here,' said Chevannes, also looking
through his binoculars. 'We will never get across.'
'Not in daytime,' said Tanner.
'What should we do?' asked Larsen.
Chevannes said nothing, so Tanner went on, 'Sir, with
your permission I’d like to carry out a reconnaissance tonight.'
'What are you thinking? Crossing further east down the
river?' said Larsen.
'No. I was considering crossing the lake. Look.' He
pointed westwards. 'See that spur jutting out? And there's another on the other
side. What's that? Two miles from Vagamo? The crossing would be quite narrow
there. Jerry'll be pretty thick along the river between the town and Otta, but
there's no need for him to go further west. There's nothing on the road west of
Vagamo at all. I reckon we can get across there tomorrow night when it's dark,
then double back and cross into the valley beyond, bypassing the town
altogether. With any luck we'll pick up some M/T along there.'
'It means another long delay,' said Larsen.
'We need that road beyond,' Tanner said. 'It's the
only clear route to Andalsnes. I admit it's a risk, but what alternative is
there? One thing's for sure, we're not going to get through Vagamo with all
those Jerries there.'
'You have a point, Sergeant,' agreed Larsen
Chevannes nodded. 'Very well. Do your reconnaissance
tonight, Sergeant, and then we will decide.'
Tanner smiled to himself. A plan had already
formulated in his head. A plan to solve all of their problems.
"Ere, Sarge,' said Sykes, after Chevannes had told them they would
be remaining at the
seter
for the time being. 'What's going on?'
'You and I are going out on a recce tonight.' He walked away from the
hut and crouched on a rock beside the stream.
'Both of us?'
Tanner nodded. 'I need you with me.'
'But what about keeping an eye on the Norwegians?'
'Don't worry about that.' He winked.
Sykes looked at him suspiciously. 'What you up to, Sarge?'
'All in good time, Stan. All in good time.' He took off his pack and
gas-mask case and put them on the ground. 'Right,' he said. 'What explosives
have we got left? I've got two packets of Nobel's and four sticks of Polar,
plus three Mills bombs.'
Sykes delved into his own pack. 'Two packets of
Nobel's and two sticks of Polar. You got some fuse left, Sarge?'
'Yes - I've got the tin here.' He took it from his pack and held it up,
then put everything back and rubbed his hands together thoughtfully.
'We can still do some damage with this lot,' said Sykes.
Sandvold was walking towards them.
'Good to see you up and about, Professor,' Tanner said. 'How are you
feeling?'
'An honest answer? Not so good, but better than I was.' He cleared his
throat. 'I must apologize to you both, holding you up like that. I feel we have
done more to stop ourselves reaching the Allies than the Germans have. I am as
anxious to get north as you are, but not sorry to have this opportunity to
build up my strength a little.'
'My old mum used to get migraines,' said Sykes. 'Couldn't do nothing
while they were going on. Terrible they were.'
'Yes - well, hopefully the Allies are not yet out of reach.' He
shuffled his feet, then said, 'I wonder, Corporal, would you mind if I had a
word with Sergeant Tanner alone?'
'Not at all, sir.' He picked up his pack and stood up. 'I'll be in the
seter
, Sarge.'
When the corporal had gone inside, Tanner said, 'What is it, sir?'
The professor glanced around him. 'Perhaps we could wander a little
further away.'
'Of course,' said Tanner, and picked up his pack with his rifle.
Sandvold walked along the stream until they were almost out of sight of
the
seter.
'Sergeant, I've been thinking,' he said at length. 'You and your men -
Chevannes and the Chasseurs too, for that matter - have sacrificed much to help
me get away. A lot has been expected of you but you have kept your promise to
Colonel Gulbrand without complaint and without once thinking to save yourselves
first. I am very grateful.'
'I hope it proves worthwhile.'
'Yet you have no idea what it is all about.'
'One day I'll get to the bottom of it.'
'Actually, Sergeant, I would like to tell you now.'
Tanner was surprised. 'You don't have to, you know. Perhaps it's better
you don't.'
'No,' said Sandvold. 'It's better I do. In any case, you have earned my
trust, Sergeant. It is only fair that you know why you have put your lives at
risk on my behalf.' Sandvold glanced around him again. 'Do you know what modern
armed forces need most to fight a war?'
Tanner shrugged. 'Men. Weapons. Machinery. I don't know - tanks,
trucks, aircraft. Lots of aircraft.'
'In a way, yes. But what is it that enables those machines to work?
What do they run on?'
'Fuel?'
'Exactly. And what is fuel?'
'Petrol.'
'Which is?' 'Oil?'
The professor smiled. 'Yes! Black gold, it is sometimes called, and so
it is to anyone wanting to wage war. Now, I do not expect you to know much
about the natural
resources
of Greater Germany, but please trust me when I say that the country lacks its
own oil. And without it Hitler will be unable to continue the war. Think of all
the aircraft we have been so impressed by. How will they fly without it? How
will his tanks run? How will factories work? How will even a machine-gun fire
without that most precious liquid? They can't. That is the simple truth.' He continued,
'It is true that I am a scientist, Sergeant Tanner, but my field is geology. So
far, man has tapped only a fraction of the world's oil resources, but the
difficulty is that most of it lies underground and, more specifically, under
the sea. The problem is how to find it and how then to get to it. My career so
far has been dedicated to solving these problems.'
'And you've been successful?'
'More so than I could possibly have hoped. I shall not
bore you with the details of how I reached my conclusions but, suffice to say,
study led me to believe there are large oil fields waiting to be mined on the
Norwegian continental shelf.' Sandvold smiled. 'You look confused. The point,
Sergeant, is that on the continental shelf, the sea is shallow - at least, shallow
compared to the ocean. And in the North Sea off the coast of Norway it is only
around a hundred metres deep, sometimes less.' He clapped his hands. 'So. The
question is, how to get the oil up and out across the sea?'
'How?'
'Ha!' said Sandvold, wagging a finger. 'It is not an
easy matter, but I have worked out a way to do it. The answer is by making a
drilling platform. The principle is the same as a land-based oil-drilling
station. You make a
platform
and its accompanying legs on land, tow them out to sea and embed them in the
sea floor. Then you begin drilling.'
'But surely, Professor, you would then need legs for this platform of
more than a hundred yards?'
'Yes, but that is not so very long. There are ships longer than that.'
'And you think this is possible? What about the oil? What happens to it
once it is drilled?'
'Siphoned into waiting tankers. And, yes, I do certainly believe it is
possible.'
'And you are the only person who knows how to do it?'
Sandvold nodded. 'Exactly, but only because no one else has thought to
do it. There are better engineers than me in the world. But there is no one
else who knows where this oil is. Last year I applied for a royal grant, which
was awarded.'
'Which is why the King has taken such a personal interest.'
'Yes. He realized the implications. Norway could become a very rich
country. But he also appreciated, as did I, that war was coming to Europe and
that these discoveries, these inventions, could be a cause of potential trouble
for Norway should Germany - and, I might add, Britain - find out about them.'
'How did they?'
'That I cannot say.'
'You can't or you won't?'
'I do not know. I work mostly alone. Only I have the blue papers. But
the King knows, and presumably so do some of his advisers and ministers. When
the war is over and we are left in peace once more, Norway will become rich,
very rich indeed. But now ... That is why the Germans want me. They want my
knowledge.'
'And your plans.'
'Yes, so I can help them produce the oil they will so
badly need if this war goes on for any great length of time.'
'Why don't you just burn the blue papers?'
Sandvold laughed. 'Do you have any idea how much work
has gone into them? It is not something I simply have stored in my head. What I
have told you is how it can be done in its most simplified form. Believe me,
Sergeant Tanner, reaching a stage where oil might actually be extracted from
below the seabed has taken literally years of work. If it comes to it, I will
burn them, but I have been hoping that with your help it will not.'
'Yet you didn't leave Oslo as the King ordered you
to.'
'Because I thought that without the King in Oslo, I
could be anonymous, forgotten. The arrival of Gulbrand made me realize
otherwise. The experiences of the past week have confirmed my worst fears.'