Island of Strono
Early that evening the five volunteers assembled at the agreed rendezvous point and prepared the two rowboats for the task ahead, the trip to Bjorntrynet where we were to meet them, The oarlocks of the boats were muffled with rags and the sea worthiness of the boats checked.
Although the five were pleased that it was to be a very dark night with heavy low lying clouds they didn't appreciate the drizzling rain. Around eight o'clock, under the cover of darkness, they pushed off their rowboats, and hugging the shoreline, set forth on the four kilometre paddle to the rendezvous hoping that they would not be spotted by a German patrol.
Inge, after her hike up to the cave to visit us, returned home and was told of the plans to move us down to the shoreline. It was decided that Johannes, a close friend of her father, would accompany her back to the cave in order to lead us to the meeting place. They had a very difficult trek back up the hill through the thick woods in the rainy darkness. Finally they reached the cave and we were startled when they both appeared out of the misty gloom. The six of us were huddled together under the rock ledge trying to keep as warm and dry as possible.
Inge motioned that we were to follow them, which we immediately did, while not knowing what to expect. Our inquiries were met with a motion to keep quiet as any unusual sound might betray our position to the enemy. It was a long torturous climb down the hill and we all suffered some scratches from the thick underbrush. We tried to keep as close together as we could and considering the slippery footing and thick bushes hitting your face we did make fairly good time. After about forty minutes, which seemed like two hours, we reached a steep incline and a few minutes later we arrived exhausted at a small clearing beside the water's edge. It was a rocky shoreline about fifty yards wide. Inge motioned to us to get back under cover of the shrubbery so we would not be seen by the patrol boats passing along the fjord less than a hundred feet away.
Finally as we crouched among the rocks and underbrush, Inge whispered to us the plans that had been made by the Milorg for our removal from the peninsula. She explained that her father had instructed her and his friend Johannes, who couldn't speak English, to bring us to this cove. She also told us that persons her father had contacted would look after the next stage of our evasion. Inge said she had told us all she knew and considering all the discomfort we had caused her in the last few hours, we had no reason to doubt her. Our safety and well being had been and would be almost entirely in the hands of others, the Norwegian Underground.
We waited patiently and nervously and saw several small motor boats pass slowly along the shoreline. Unknown to us the Germans had set up a blockade on the peninsula using seven patrol boats which kept plying back and forth to make sure we were kept on that point of land.
About an hour after our arrival at the shore and immediately after the passing of a German patrol vessel, a rowboat appeared out of the misty blackness. There were two men in it and when we spotted each other they motioned for us to join them. After thanking Inge and Johannes for all their help we hurried to scramble into the rowboat. As the boat was pitching and tossing quite heavily I can remember being pulled head first by a pair of strong hands over the bow. After we were positioned two to a seat the oarsmen quickly commenced rowing us along the rocky shoreline using a strong even stroke. I noticed that the oars were muffled with rags and that the only sound was the lapping of the waves against the sides. For the first few minutes after we ware picked up no one had spoken a word. The two Norwegians went quietly and efficiently about their work while we tried to see where we were going, however other than whitecaps we didn't have much luck.
It was now raining quite heavily and we were thoroughly drenched. I can recall whispering to Red, who was sitting with me, that I hoped I wouldn't get seasick due to the choppy roll of the sea. Red said he wasn't concerned about the roll it was the water running down the back of his neck that really bothered him. The Norwegian behind us then took off his raincoat and tossed it over our heads He, who had not spoken previously, then leaned over and whispered in broken English "How's that Bud, feeling better now?".
We traveled silently along the shoreline for about half a mile and then pulled into land where another rowboat with three men in it was waiting. As we approached the Norwegians in the second boat, they waved and smiled. They were obviously happy that the rendezvous pickup had been successful.
As the two boats drifted side by side the five Norwegians held a hurried whispered conference. Three of the crew were then transferred to the other boat after which both boats pulled away from the shore. The ceiling of low lying clouds was gradually lifting and we were now able to see that we were passing in between a number of small islands while most of the time keeping close to shore, but once or twice we appeared to be on open water.
We were moving along quite smoothly when suddenly the rowers in both boats stopped. The leader had spotted a German patrol boat which was headed directly across our path. We drifted silently while watching the patrol boat continue on its way, obvious to the fact that their prey was so close at hand. The Norwegians had made a very wise decision in not using a motor boat for their mission.
Twenty seven years later, in 1971, Einar Evensen, the leader of the five man Norwegian team, wrote to the British Ministry of Veterans Affairs - "When the German sentry boat appeared out of the mist they all had a dreadful fear, and the only thing that saved us and them from certain death, was the silent pull of the boat and the sharp eye of the lookout in the bow of the lead rowboat".
After about twenty minutes on the open water, we were once again moving between the islands. At one time we glided by a German sentry post, however the guard on duty appeared to be reading the paper. A few minutes later the lead boat pulled over to the shore and one of the Norwegians climbed onto the bank. He disappeared into the underbrush and was gone for several minutes. When he returned he signalled that it was safe to proceed.
Soon we could see land on both sides as we were rowing down a narrow channel. Up ahead we saw a bridge crossing our path. It was about 25-30 feet in length but only about 5-6 feet above the water. Again the boats pulled into shore. One of the Norwegians climbed out and approached the sentry post at the end of the bridge, and engaged the German guard in conversation while the two boats glided silently under the bridge. A few hundred yards further along we stopped and picked up our advance scout.
Finally as we crouched among the rocks and underbrush, Inge whispered to us the plans that had been made by the Milorg for our removal from the peninsula. She explained that her father had instructed her and his friend Johannes, who couldn't speak English, to bring us to this cove. She also told us that persons her father had contacted would look after the next stage of our evasion. Inge said she had told us all she knew and considering all the discomfort we had caused her in the last few hours, we had no reason to doubt her. Our safety and well being had been and would be almost entirely in the hands of others, the Norwegian Underground.
We waited patiently and nervously and saw several small motor boats pass slowly along the shoreline. Unknown to us the Germans had set up a blockade on the peninsula using seven patrol boats which kept plying back and forth to make sure we were kept on that point of land.
About an hour after our arrival at the shore and immediately after the passing of a German patrol vessel, a rowboat appeared out of the misty blackness. There were two men in it and when we spotted each other they motioned for us to join them. After thanking Inge and Johannes for all their help we hurried to scramble into the rowboat. As the boat was pitching and tossing quite heavily I can remember being pulled head first by a pair of strong hands over the bow. After we were positioned two to a seat the oarsmen quickly commenced rowing us along the rocky shoreline using a strong even stroke. I noticed that the oars were muffled with rags and that the only sound was the lapping of the waves against the sides. For the first few minutes after we ware picked up no one had spoken a word. The two Norwegians went quietly and efficiently about their work while we tried to see where we were going, however other than whitecaps we didn't have much luck.
It was now raining quite heavily and we were thoroughly drenched. I can recall whispering to Red, who was sitting with me, that I hoped I wouldn't get seasick due to the choppy roll of the sea. Red said he wasn't concerned about the roll it was the water running down the back of his neck that really bothered him. The Norwegian behind us then took off his raincoat and tossed it over our heads He, who had not spoken previously, then leaned over and whispered in broken English "How's that Bud, feeling better now?".
We traveled silently along the shoreline for about half a mile and then pulled into land where another rowboat with three men in it was waiting. As we approached the Norwegians in the second boat, they waved and smiled. They were obviously happy that the rendezvous pickup had been successful.
As the two boats drifted side by side the five Norwegians held a hurried whispered conference. Three of the crew were then transferred to the other boat after which both boats pulled away from the shore. The ceiling of low lying clouds was gradually lifting and we were now able to see that we were passing in between a number of small islands while most of the time keeping close to shore, but once or twice we appeared to be on open water.
We were moving along quite smoothly when suddenly the rowers in both boats stopped. The leader had spotted a German patrol boat which was headed directly across our path. We drifted silently while watching the patrol boat continue on its way, obvious to the fact that their prey was so close at hand. The Norwegians had made a very wise decision in not using a motor boat for their mission.
Twenty seven years later, in 1971, Einar Evensen, the leader of the five man Norwegian team, wrote to the British Ministry of Veterans Affairs - "When the German sentry boat appeared out of the mist they all had a dreadful fear, and the only thing that saved us and them from certain death, was the silent pull of the boat and the sharp eye of the lookout in the bow of the lead rowboat".
After about twenty minutes on the open water, we were once again moving between the islands. At one time we glided by a German sentry post, however the guard on duty appeared to be reading the paper. A few minutes later the lead boat pulled over to the shore and one of the Norwegians climbed onto the bank. He disappeared into the underbrush and was gone for several minutes. When he returned he signalled that it was safe to proceed.
Soon we could see land on both sides as we were rowing down a narrow channel. Up ahead we saw a bridge crossing our path. It was about 25-30 feet in length but only about 5-6 feet above the water. Again the boats pulled into shore. One of the Norwegians climbed out and approached the sentry post at the end of the bridge, and engaged the German guard in conversation while the two boats glided silently under the bridge. A few hundred yards further along we stopped and picked up our advance scout.