We Die Alone: A WWII Epic of Escape and Endurance (31 page)

A German newspaper account of the "Brattholm" incident
taken from "Deutsche Zeitung," 8th June, 1943

IN THE twilight of a spring evening a large seaworthy fishing-boat
steams slowly out of a little harbour in the Shetland Islands. In the
light breeze which blows in from the sea, flutters the Norwegian military flag-it has only been hoisted as the ship left port. No security
measures were to be neglected. Even before sailing, everything had
been done to prevent unwanted people approaching the boat or her
crew. After all, even in England it is not every day that a fishing-boat
is made ready for a trip to Norway. No wonder the greatest pains
were taken to get the enterprise off to a good start.

Twelve men comprise the crew of this boat as it sails towards the
east. Anyone who overheard them would soon be able to establish
that all the men were talking Norwegian. A certain Sigurd Eskesund
is leader of the expedition. He was born on a mountain range in
Norway, but his parents died prematurely when he was young, and so
he left his native country and made his way, as so many did at that time, to the United States. For years in America he fought starvation,
tried his luck here and there, until at last he found food and shelter
and the necessities of life on a farm. When war broke out, unemployment threatened again. Then one day he was urged to go to
England to join the Norwegian legion. For two days he thought the
matter over. But time had helped him to make a decision. The spectre of being without food hung over him again, and moreover he was
being accused again of being a foreigner. And so he reported himself
to the recruiting centre. A little later, he arrived in England. There he
underwent his military training, and also attended a sabotage school
and was taught to be a paratrooper. Months passed, months that
were used in London and in Scotland to forge plans-not for the
daring invasion that was always being talked about, but merely plans
to decide where and how and when the Norwegian sabotage troops
could be utilised. And now at last such an enterprise was under way.

Four days passed. Three men stand on the upper deck of the
Norwegian boat and look eastwards. To-day they are wearingaccording to orders-civilian clothing. They are the three men of the
sabotage party. The real crew are no longer allowed to show themselves. Once again, to the best of their knowledge, all precautionary
measures have been taken. I hope, said one of the men, Harald, that
behind this fog bank there lies our coast. For it was about time.
Engine trouble yesterday had forced them to slow down.

They sail on to a small outlying island which is only inhabited by
a few fisher folk. This really ought to be an ideal hide-out. They hope
it will be, for none of them feel happy on their lame vessel any
longer-especially since a German reconnaissance plane continually
swoops over the boat. In the faces of these twelve men on the fishing
boat Bariholm there is consternation: have we been recognised? It is
true the Norwegian battle flag has now been hauled down, but there
is still danger that the German is not quite satisfied.

For all three members of the sabotage party one thing is certain:
as soon as they get ashore they will set up their radio and send this report to London-that the German air reconnaissance and coastal
guard are very strong indeed. There is no way of slipping in unobserved. Not even a chance for a cleverly disguised fishing-boatthough God knows there are plenty of herring barrels on board to
disguise her. All one has to do is to take them to bits, without any
fear that salt water will pour over one's sea-boots, or that twitching
fish will wriggle and slither away. No, all that has to be done is to
open these barrels and there are wonderful well-oiled machineguns. And it is the same with the fish boxes, only they contain hand
grenades.

Now the coast looms up out of the fog. A small bay is selected as
it has high rocks to protect it. Here the boat will probably be well
concealed. Somewhat reassured by this, but none the less anxious
and nervous, the sabotage party paddles ashore in a dinghy. It is a fair
distance they have to cover. So they are glad when at last they touch
land and jump out on to the beach. After long years they have
Norwegian soil under their feet again!

They set off in a direction where they can see smoke. An old
woman comes towards them-the first Norwegian in their own
homeland! What greeting and reception will they get on this farflung
inlet? They begin to ask her questions. They ask for someone who
understands engines and can help them to repair the engine of their
boat. But the woman will not help them. Next they meet a boy. Yes,
he says, he will fetch his father who is a fisherman. They seldom see
foreigners there, he says. Harald looks at Sigurd. But Sigurd behaves
as if he has not heard what the boy said. He tries to do business with
the fisherman. No, says he, he can give them no advice. In their short
talk he has already summed up these intruders. What is the meaning
of it all, Sigurd wonders.

They go on and on, like spurned beggars in a foreign land. Again
and again they are told with a shrug that no help can be given. So the
three offer first money, and then food which had been specially
issued to them for bribery. But even that is useless.

Their task unaccomplished, they can only go back, grumbling
and tired, to the hideout of their boat. Damn it, what is to be done
now? Over here the boat is no further use to them. They must bury
its valuable cargo. A thousand kilograms of dynamite are stowed in
the hold. Where to put it? First of all let's get back, says Sigurd, to
look at the maps on board and think it over! Little do they imagine
what surprise awaits them.

Downcast by their cool reception in their one-time homeland, by
the unsuccessful pleading and attempts at bribery, they push off
again in their dinghy. Hardly have they come in sight of their boat
when close by they see a German warship. They turn towards land
again, there is yet one more chance-escape! But they hear the shout
of "Halt!" The three of them row with all their might. A burst of
machine-gun fire from the warship sweeps over the water. Onward!
shouts Sigurd. A fresh wave of machine-gun bullets smashes the side
of the boat. The water begins to rise in it. There is nothing for it but
to swim for shore. And now they see that two boats have cast off from
the German warship. They are trying to cut off their escape. It is a
matter of life and death! The water is cold, it grips the heart.

When finally they get to land, a party of German soldiers and
sailors is waiting to receive them. The long swim in the cold water,
the strong current, and perhaps also their experience ashore, have
taken more toll of their strength than they realised. Helpless, shivering with cold, with no will-power left, they drag themselves up the
stone quay-and give themselves up as prisoners. Sabotage operation "M" is broken up. Norwegians, who once believed they were
helping to free their country, have once again been cynically and uselessly sacrificed by England. When their countrymen who had taken
part in the capture heard the Wehrmacht communique, they
expressed their verdict in a single word: "Misled"