'You do not have children yourself, Sergeant?' Larsen asked.
'No, sir.'
'I have two girls, a little younger than these.' He sighed. 'I do not mind telling you, Sergeant, that I miss them terribly. This war.. .' He shook his head. 'It is a terrible thing.'
'But you're a soldier, sir. One of the few Norwegian professionals.'
'Yes - you are right. And I should not say this, but if I am honest, I never expected to fight. I thought I would remain a member of His Majesty's Guard in Oslo, but not that Norway would find itself at war. We are neutrals, Sergeant.'
'Yes,' said Tanner, 'you're not the first to say so. We British are a bit more used to it. There's not a year goes by without a bit of fighting, war or no war.'
Tanner finished the first model and gave it to the elder child. He had just begun a second when their mother entered the barn and spoke with Larsen. She was, he guessed, perhaps thirty, with a thin, kind face. The fear in her eyes that had been so evident when they had first descended on the farm had gone, soothed by the soldiers' apparent harmlessness and by the reassuring return of her father-in-law. But the anxiety was still there. Tanner could hardly blame her. It was brave to take in Allied soldiers with the Germans only a short way off.
She looked at her daughters and the model Tanner had made, smiled, then spoke with Larsen.
'What news?' Tanner asked him, once she had left them.
'Not much. The professor's asleep. Anna has put her medical training to good use.'
On their arrival at the farm, Chevannes had ordered Tanner to organize guards, so he had. One was stationed in the attic at the top of the house from which there was a clear view of the valley they had walked up earlier, while the other stood guard outside Sandvold's room. Each man did two hours on, four hours off; only the officers were exempt. Later, when Tanner and McAllister went into the farmhouse to relieve Kershaw and Erwood, he had a chance to talk to Anna.
She looked tired, Tanner thought, as they sat on the wooden floorboards of the second-floor landing. 'You must get some rest too, you know,' he told her.
'I will.' She leant her head against his shoulder. 'I could fall asleep now.'
'Why don't you? I can listen for you.'
For a moment there was silence between them. Downstairs, they could hear chairs scraping, the children talking. In the hall at the bottom of the staircase, an old grandfather clock ticked methodically.
'At least he's going to be all right,' said Anna at length.
'He is?'
'Yes. It's exhaustion more than anything. He's twenty- five years older than most of us, not a young man. Ten days he's been on the run now, tramping over mountains, across rivers and lakes without proper sleep or food.'
'And he's been shot at, strafed and bombed.'
'Yes. It creates a great strain, physically and mentally. And the professor's a scientist, a city-dweller. It's not surprising that his body is rebelling. Oh, and he has migraines. I pity anyone who does - a terrible affliction. If you get a bad one, you can do nothing except lie in a dark room until it passes.'
'And your prognosis, Doctor?'
'The migraine should have passed by the morning. I expect the fever will subside too.'
'Will he be able to walk?'
'He'll be a bit weak, but possibly.'
'We could always make a stretcher.' Tanner sighed. 'I know this can't be helped, but the moment he can move again, we must leave. God knows where the front is now, but one thing is for certain: our forces are only going backwards. To have any hope of catching them up again, we can't afford to stay here too long.'
'Let's pray he sleeps well tonight, then.'
'You too, Anna. If we get going tomorrow, we all need to be rested.' Her face was truly lovely, he thought. The eyes, the gentle arc of her eyebrows, the curve of her lips. She moved her head, her eyes turned to his. Leaning down, he kissed her. Suddenly it seemed the most obvious and natural thing in the world.
A long night and an even longer morning. The rain had passed, and so had the professor's fever, but the head- shattering migraine was proving more stubborn. The men were restless; so, too, were Astrid Madsen and her father-in-law. It was clear they had had enough of sheltering a disparate bunch of soldiers.
And that damned clock, ticking away the seconds, the minutes, the hours. Tanner had taken over guard duty again outside Sandvold's room at around noon, and all the time he waited there he could hear it, reminding him that time, a precious commodity, was passing. He had felt more at ease on the mountain at Uksum Farm, where at least he could see the valley spread before them and watch the enemy's movement. Here they were hidden; the view back down the valley was not a long one - and it had occurred to him that they might now just as likely see German troops approaching from the north.
At one, Anna checked on the professor again, clasping Tanner's hand as she passed him. Reappearing a few minutes later, she said, 'The migraine has subsided. We can leave.'
Tanner breathed out heavily. At last.
The old farmer helped make a stretcher from two lengths of wood and an old piece of tarpaulin. The professor protested half-heartedly that he was capable of walking, but after nearly collapsing down the stairs that led from the farmhouse, he acquiesced. He looked ill, Tanner thought, his eyes dark hollows and his skin sallow.
'Are you sure he's fit to travel?' Tanner asked Anna.
'He is weak, but if he is on a stretcher he will be fine. It is no worse for him than lying on a bed. He needs rest, that is all.'
At least the others were now refreshed, Tanner thought. With the exception of Nielssen, who had kept his beard, the men were now cleanshaven once more, the sloping shoulders and foot-dragging of the previous morning replaced by a renewed vigour that was clear from the moment they set off.
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, y
es, 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.
Chapter 19
"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 wor
k 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.'
Tanner ran his hands through his hair. So, he thought. It's all about oil. 'Tell me one last thing, Professor,' he said. 'Wouldn't such a platform be vulnerable to attack from the air and the sea?'
'You surround it with thick and deep minefields, and it would be within easy reach of land. In any case, you're forgetting, Sergeant, that the Nazis fully expect to control all of Europe. Or, at least, they expect all of Europe will be compliant with their designs. And after the way in which they have invaded our country, who is to stop them? Not the British.'
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