NINE
For the past five weeks since he had enrolled in the Norwegian army, Kristoffer had been with his unit, which was trying desperately to defend Trondheim against the invaders. Highly trained as the German troops were, they had already overrun Poland and Denmark. British and French troops had come to their assistance but the situation remained dire. During the course of the heavy fighting Kristoffer had suffered a minor wound to his arm and, with ten days’ sick leave, had made his way back over the mountains to his home in Bergen.
After the noise and horror of the fighting, the quiet beauty of the mountains helped a little to combat the oppressive horrors of the war, not least the cries of the wounded and dying men around him. Without skis to assist him, it was heavy going through the winter snow which was still lying unmelted in the shade of the spruce trees.
As he neared the outskirts of Bergen, he met an elderly man travelling in the opposite direction who informed him that the Germans had landed in Oslo and now occupied the city.
It was inconceivable, Kristoffer thought, that his beloved country might have surrendered to the invaders.
When he finally arrived at his home on the Nordnes peninsular overlooking the harbour, it was to find the mellow timbered house unscathed by enemy shelling from the German boats surrounding the Norwegian coast. The town had surrendered to the Germans and already the occupying soldiers were busy taking over control of the population. The Nazi anti-Semitic dictates were already in force. So far, as far as Kristoffer could see, there had been no interference with the activities of Holberg Tømmer AS, the family timber company, but he assumed it was only a matter of time before that happened. Fortunately with the occupation of the city so recent, he was able to reach home without being stopped and asked for his identity papers.
He used the back door key he had kept in his pocket to let himself into the house, where he found his mother preparing the evening meal.
At that moment Kristoffer’s father came into the kitchen. After he had joyously welcomed his son home, Herr Holberg related what was uppermost in his mind, namely that the Norwegian fascist, Vidkun Quisling, had been proclaimed by Hitler as the new Prime Minister and had asked King Haakon to confirm his position.
‘Quisling is a traitor!’ Herr Holberg said as he and Kristoffer sat drinking large glasses of beer in the warmth of the kitchen. ‘He is known to be hand in glove with the Nazis and endorses their ideologies.’ He sniffed dismissively and took another swallow of beer. ‘Meanwhile, our government has evacuated to Hamar. But you may well know all this.’
Fru Holberg interrupted their conversation by suggesting that Kristoffer had a quick bath and changed out of his uniform into home clothes. When she called him to come and eat, sitting at the kitchen table listening to his father relating the local news, his euphoria at having reached home evaporated.
‘It has to be faced,’ his father was saying, ‘that our country is no more able to stop the Germans than Poland, Denmark or Holland were. Nor, so I’ve heard, is there any good news of the Allied armies in Belgium. By the sound of it, they are in retreat and the Germans will soon be in France.’
Herr Holberg drew a deep sigh as he enquired if Kristoffer had heard about the battle going on further up the west coast at Aardanger. According to his neighbour, the occupants had been shooting at a German ship moored in the fjord. The Germans had promptly shelled the centre of the village and reduced it to rubble.
A smile crossed Herr Holberg’s face momentarily as he added: ‘The Aardangers promptly scuttled the German ship which they had captured and was moored in the harbour. There was a neutral Spanish merchant ship which had taken refuge there which they also scuttled.’ His smile now gave way to a chuckle as he continued: ‘Did you hear about it? Its cargo was a shipload of oranges which could be seen in their thousands bobbing about in the water all over the harbour!’ His face regained a serious expression as he told Kristoffer, ‘Apparently a number of men who had banded together to form a secret resistance force were responsible, their aim being to hamper the Germans in any way they could.’
Kristoffer regarded his father with eyes now alight with excitement. ‘I know about these people,’ he said, ‘and if the Germans overrun our defences as now seems inevitable, I shall join them.’
Aware of the look of anxiety on his mother’s face, he changed the topic of his conversation. ‘What of Holberg Tømmer, Father?’ he asked. ‘I saw no sign of anyone in the forest, although I did hear the sound of chainsaws as I skirted the boundary.’
Herr Holberg gave a wry smile. ‘Our German occupiers have commandeered our stocks and despite my telling them that spring is not the time to be cutting down trees, they are insisting we should continue to do so. The saw mills are still active but we have lookouts to advise when there are no Germans around. We conceal supplies of timber in the forest for our former customers and ourselves.’
‘Isn’t that a bit risky?’ Kristoffer asked.
Herr Holberg shrugged his shoulders. ‘So far we have not been detected, and I’m reasonably sure we don’t have any “quislings” among our employees.’ Seeing Kristoffer’s expression, he grimaced, adding: ‘That’s what we all call those who collaborate with the Germans. All the employees of Holberg Tømmer are loyal compatriots, as you would expect.’
Herr Holberg told Kristoffer that Gustave, one of Kristoffer’s old friends since schooldays, was already involved with a group of the Resistance. From the limited facts Herr Holberg knew Kristoffer gathered, there was an organization in London who were going to supply these groups with the necessary equipment, arms, ammunition and radios. These last were to enable the Norwegians to pass on any information about secret enemy emplacements or activity, to enable the British to take the necessary action to disrupt or destroy them.
Kristoffer did not need to hear more before deciding that he would try to find Gustave the next day. He would ask his friend the name of a contact for him to approach after he’d had a few days’ rest and given the wound on his arm a chance to recover.
Sitting round the table eating the lapskaus his mother had cooked, Kristoffer tried not to assuage his hunger too quickly as he dipped his bread into the thick, tasty stew. As he ate, Fru Holberg told him about one of the Jewish families living further up the street. They had tried to escape to England in a fishing boat when the invasion seemed imminent, risking an attack by one the many German U-boats patrolling the North Sea. Close to tears, his mother expressed her fear that their friends might never have arrived in Scotland, as she had been unable to contact the fishermen who had transported them.
A brief moment of hope engulfed Kristoffer when it crossed his mind that perhaps he, too, might be able to get to Scotland and then to England and find Dilys, but his mother could give him no further details about the boat making such a dangerous journey. In any event, he told himself as he held out his plate for a second helping of lapskaus, it was his duty to remain in his own country and continue to resist the invaders as long as it was possible.
Replenishing Kristoffer’s empty plate, Fru Holberg said, ‘Whatever happens, Far and I will remain here in Bergen but we understand that you will wish to go on fighting the Germans in any way you can. But I do beg you to be careful, Kristoffer! Your father and I live all the time with concern about your safety.’ She smiled suddenly as she added: ‘So, too, does Gerda! She calls here every day to ask if there is news of you.’
As if Gerda knew Fru Holberg had just mentioned her, she walked into the kitchen using the key she’d had in her possession since childhood. Tall, fair hair plaited and coiled round her head, her face was wreathed in smiles as she hurriedly crossed the room and, bending over, threw her arms around Kristoffer and hugged him, taking care not to crush his injured arm, her eyes shining as she greeted him. Kristoffer stood up and, smiling, kissed her on both cheeks but drew back from any closer embrace.
‘Your mother telephoned me to tell me you had just come home, Kris!’ Gerda exclaimed, her eyes shining.
‘It’s wonderful to see you. We have been so worried about you haven’t we, Tante Helena, when we heard Trondheim was now in enemy hands.’ Frowning, she reached up and stroked his cheek. ‘But how thin you have become! We must try to fatten you again while you are here on sick leave, should we not, Tante? It will not be easy now food is so scarce.’ She smiled, adding: ‘No matter. I have a little store set by and I will bake for you one of your favourite cakes!’
Without embarrassment, she leant forward and kissed Kristoffer’s cheek again, unaware that he did not respond to her embrace. He stood silently, his eyes averted from her face as his mind filled with thoughts of Dilys. He knew he would have to tell Gerda that he had fallen in love with another girl and that the news would hurt her. Although nothing had ever been said about an engagement or his future marriage to Gerda, both families had assumed it would happen that way. However, now was not the moment to tell Gerda about Dilys – not while she was so happily rejoicing in his return home. He would be gone again very soon, and he would tell her before he left, he decided. Then she could turn her thoughts to someone else. Pretty as she undoubtedly was, she would not lack for attention from other young men once they knew he was out of the picture.
Only a year younger than Kristoffer, Gerda had completed her training as a teacher and now worked in Bergen in a junior school. There she was befriended by a cheerful English girl married to a Norwegian engineer. When Kristoffer enquired how she was enjoying the job, Gerda replied that since the arrival of the Germans Jewish people were being rounded up and that the fellow teacher was now hiding two children and their parents.
‘Mor wanted to do the same but Far will not permit it.’
Their situation had become increasingly dangerous as the British were withdrawing all their troops, and news arrived that the Norwegian government had now been established in London. Both Herr Holberg and Gerda’s father were now talking of an unstoppable defeat. No one mentioned the word surrender. Such a prospect was unthinkable, even if the worse happened and the entire country was overrun.
‘It is no wonder,’ Herr Holberg now said to Kristoffer, ‘that people are talking of ways to harass the invader wherever and however they can.’
‘Far says that the fascists under Vidkun Quisling are aiding the Germans,’ Gerda declared, ‘and they are to be despised by all of us who are true patriots! He has warned Mamma to be prepared for the inevitable occupation of Bergen, and has taught us both to fire a rifle so we can defend ourselves if it is necessary.’ She sighed and then said regretfully that she must go home as she had promised her mother she would not be too long.
Kristoffer walked her across the road to her house as had always been his custom. As they approached the door Gerda asked anxiously, ‘Is there really no hope we can get rid of the Germans?’
Kristoffer hesitated then shook his head. ‘They have tanks and are skilled using aerial bombardments to decimate our troops. Unlike us they are highly trained and far better equipped than we are. It’s carnage. They show no mercy and I’ve even seen them shoot the wounded. They don’t care if their shells kill women and children, flatten schools, hospitals …’ He shuddered at the memory. ‘If … when … they reach the outskirts of the town, you and your mother and female friends must go and hide in the forests. Please, Gerda, promise me you won’t risk your life trying to fight them. They are far too powerful to be resisted.’
For a moment, Gerda did not speak, and then she said softly, ‘But you risk your life, Kris!’ Seeing his expression, she added quickly: ‘But I will be careful, I promise. And you must take care, too.’
They had reached the front door and, seeing Kristoffer hesitate, she said quickly, ‘You are coming in, aren’t you? My parents are longing to see you.’
‘Yes, of course, if it isn’t too late!’ Kristoffer said, at the same time wondering how he could avoid time alone with Gerda when, as had always happened in the past, her parents made themselves scarce in order to leave ‘the young couple alone’. He and Gerda had shared their first kisses and embraces when they were still in their teens. The embraces had, on occasion, become quite passionate, but after the evenings of such pleasurable but limited petting sessions, they were never referred to next day. Their school friends called them ‘The Love Birds’ and it was generally but unofficially assumed they would one day get engaged and marry. When there were parties or outings on steamers sailing up the beautiful fjord, or skiing in the winter in the mountains, they were always invited to join in as a couple.
It was now all too clear to Kristoffer that nothing had changed in Gerda’s or her parents’ lives while he had been away. They greeted him now much as his own parents had done, and despite his half-hearted protest they soon left him and Gerda alone in the living room.
As soon as the door closed, Gerda turned to Kristoffer, expecting him to put his arms round her and kiss her as he would have done in the past. Knowing him as well as she did, she realized at once that something was wrong. His hands were clasped tightly together and his face was turned away as if he was trying to find the courage to say the words he knew she would not wish to hear. With a sinking heart, she determined to find out why his manner towards her had changed.
Looking directly at him, she said, ‘Kris, would I be wrong in thinking something has happened; something that has changed our relationship? Or perhaps something happened while you were fighting in Trondheim?’
Kristoffer bit his lip. He had anticipated that Gerda, who knew him so well, would realize very quickly that everything was different now: that for the first time in his life he had fallen in love. He’d known, too, as the months went by, that he would have to tell her that there would never be anyone to replace Dilys in his heart. Dreading the thought that Gerda would be distressed and hurt, he had put off writing to her. The brief moments when he had finally made love to Dilys flashed across his mind and, momentarily unaware of Gerda’s presence, hot tears stung the backs of his eyes. Heartbreaking thoughts flashed yet again through his mind. Why had she not written to him? He’d never once doubted that she’d loved him as deeply as he loved her. How could she disappear back to her own country and just forget him? How could she have wiped him from her memory; treat their wonderful time together as no more than happy but unmemorable interludes? He had even questioned if it was possible that her father had withheld the letter he had written to her, that Sir Godfrey had opened it and seen his outpourings of love as inappropriate for his young, innocent daughter.
While Gerda stood silently beside him awaiting his reply, memories raced through his mind as he recalled the long, wakeful nights when he had realized that had it not been for the war raging in his country he would have found a way to go to England and discover where Dilys lived. It had even occurred to him that he could write another letter and, with luck, find a British soldier to take it with him when he returned to his own country.
Realizing suddenly that he could no longer delay replying to Gerda, he said awkwardly, ‘It isn’t just the war that has changed me, Gerda. Perhaps I should have told you months ago that I had met an English girl and … I fell in love with her. For a while I wasn’t sure if she felt the same way as I did, but then we both realized that … well, that we wanted to be together for the rest of our lives.’ Avoiding the look on Gerda’s face, he steeled himself to continue. ‘But Dilys was only seventeen and she knew her parents wouldn’t consider her getting engaged to someone they had never met – a foreigner, too. So we kept our relationship a secret. I should have told you, Gerda, because … well, although we didn’t have an actual understanding, I know our parents always assumed we’d get married one day. I … I suppose we did, too, although …’
‘Although you never asked me to marry you, Kris,’ Gerda interrupted, the tremor in her voice barely noticeable. ‘I suppose I always assumed that one day—’ She broke off and then forced herself to say in a level tone: ‘But you never told me you loved me. I suppose I should have guessed that you’d fallen for someone else. I mean,
it’s not as if we were ever engaged.’ She paused briefly, then added in a carefully controlled voice: ‘I do hope, Kris, that this … this new love won’t change our friendship. That really would make me very unhappy.’
Kristoffer felt a huge surge of relief as he deduced that from what Gerda had just said that she had not considered their relationship to be binding; to be loving, yes, but not the same kind of love he now knew could exist between a man and woman. As Gerda had just said, they were long-standing friends, loving ones. He turned, put his arms round her and hugged her. ‘Dear Gerda, you will always be someone very, very special to me,’ he said, meaning it sincerely.
It took her a moment to steady her voice before saying, ‘Tell me about this English girl you love. She must be extremely special for you to feel so deeply about her.’
Kristoffer needed no second bidding to offload all his love and concern for Dilys. He listened happily to Gerda’s reassurance that sooner or later Dilys would surely find a way to contact him: that even if she did not have his home address, the Holberg company was well known in Bergen and a letter from her would be bound to reach him as the postal service between the two countries must still exist, however unreliable.
Privately, Gerda was now hoping that Kristoffer might have read more into the young girl’s responses than he had realized; that it had probably been the young girl’s first experience of falling in love but, parted from him, she had quickly forgotten him when a new admirer appeared on the scene and lavished attention on her. Gerda’s depression now vanished as she considered that she had only to wait and Kris would be hers again. Perhaps, at first, it might be for no more than consolation. Then, in time, he would realize that the two of them had always been destined to belong to each other.
Live the Dream Page 9