by Kris Tualla
Her eyes shifted back to the road. “And by that I mean we all went through basic training and still have a training regimen. We had military schooling. We follow military order and discipline.” Kyle gave a little shrug. “We just don’t go into combat.”
Tor wondered if she was challenging Norway’s situation. “We don’t have women in our army, but tens of thousands of them do serve in Milorg.”
Kyle bounced a small nod. “Understood.”
Tor leaned back again and considered the lieutenant. He was intrigued. “So what made you enlist?”
She drew a deep breath and blew it through loose lips. “I did it on a whim, I guess.”
“A whim?” This was a pretty big decision to make without a plan. “What sort of whim?”
“I’m from a tiny town in northern Minnesota. Not too far from the Canadian border.” She glanced at him again. “I’d never been anywhere else, and it didn’t look like I was going to.”
Eyes back on the road. “Then I saw an ad for someone to act as translator for a Norwegian ski instructor. I applied.”
“And here you are.”
She smiled a little. “And here I am.”
Tor thought of a million questions but decided to start with, “What did your husband think of this?”
Kyle wiggled the fingers of her gloved left hand. “I’m not married.”
“How is that possible?”
Another glance under a lowered brow. “What do you mean?”
“I mean you seem to be a very attractive, intelligent, and capable woman in her… mid-twenties,” Tor guessed. “Why are you still single?”
Kyle’s jaw clenched again. “I’m engaged. Are you married?”
Interesting. “No, but—”
“Why are you still single?”
Tor’s jaw dropped. “Because I’m busy fighting a war.”
This time, Kyle turned her face toward his and glared at him.
“And so am I.”
*****
Pompous ass.
Kyle gripped the steering wheel and stared at the snow-banked road. Her relationship with the handsome captain was already taking an unpleasant turn.
She needed to pull it back around before she lost the position. She’d joined the WAC for an opportunity to travel and see something of the world beyond her tiny hometown and that was still her goal.
And to be honest, as a chance to win some independence from both her family’s and Erik’s expectations. Before she settled down to marry him, she needed to sow some oats of her own. Get it out of her system. Be ready for life as a farm wife in Viking.
“Of course you are,” Tor said softly. “It was not my place to ask you such a question.”
“It’s fine.” Kyle shook her head to clear her thoughts. “We’re going to be spending a lot of time together, so we might as well learn to be honest with each other without getting bent out of shape over it.”
The captain’s brows lifted as if her answer surprised him. “Agreed.”
“So, to finish answering your question.” Kyle pulled a deep breath. “I replied to the ad on a whim, but I enlisted on purpose. I was excited for the opportunity to serve my country and help the war effort.”
“I feel the same way,” Tor said soberly. “When Hitler invaded Norway I enlisted that same day. Within a week I was…” He paused. “I was taking my training.”
This is good, Kyle thought.
We’re being friendly again.
Kyle slowed the car to make a turn. “We’re almost there. Time for one more question.”
Tor smiled. “How do you say ‘I don’t speak English’?”
*****
Tor listened to Kyle’s answer carefully, noting the broad, flat accent of her American English. He repeated the words several times until he eliminated the rounded British tones of the language he’d learned during his training in England.
He almost gave the game away before it began.
Once he admitted he’d spent so much time in England, his ignorance of their language would become suspect. And he was so intrigued by the feisty female lieutenant that his decision to hide his understanding remained as solid as the mountains surrounding them.
Kyle steered the car toward a large lighted building labeled Camp Hale Headquarters and stopped in front of it. “Here we are.”
Tor opened the door of the parked car and gratefully exited the small sedan.
“I’m going to take you inside to meet Major General Lloyd Jones,” Kyle said as she walked around the car. “He was given command of the Mountain Training Center because he specialized in winter operations and mountain warfare.”
Tor did a slow turn. They were surrounded by hundreds of one and two-story building, all well lit inside and out.
How strange it was to be at war in such a safe location.
“How long has the camp been here?” he asked.
“Just over a year.” Kyle pointed her thumb back at the car. “We’ll drive to your barracks and unload after you meet the general. Follow me. Uh, sir.”
Tor flashed a crooked grin. After their spirited conversation in the car, Lieutenant Solberg had already dropped her guard. It was a good beginning.
Inside the heated building, Tor removed his calf-length wool coat and handed it to the receptionist—another woman in uniform.
“The general is expecting you,” she said. “Go on in.”
Kyle handed the woman her coat as well before walking to the partially opened door.
Tor leapt forward, grabbed the knob, and opened it.
“After you, Lieutenant.”
The general, a middle-aged military man with average looks and a solidly trim frame, was sitting at a massive oak desk.
He looked up when Kyle walked into the office. She halted at attention in front of the desk and saluted.
Tor followed her example.
“At ease, soldiers. Please have a seat.”
Kyle took one heavy wooden chair facing the desk and Tor took the other.
General Jones set down his pen. “Welcome to Camp Hale, Captain Hansen. We’re glad to have you.”
“Takk.” Tor leaned his head toward Kyle’s and murmured in Norsk, “I understood that, of course.”
Kyle simply nodded.
“The willingness of so many men from Norway, Sweden, Denmark, and even Germany, to come to America and enlist in our armed services is gratifying, as you can well imagine.”
Tor struggled not to react until Kyle spoke the general’s words to him. He needed his position in the Norwegian Army to be made clear.
“Remind him that I am not enlisted here. I’m still a Captain in Norway and plan to return there after the war” he said carefully. “I am here as an adjunct.”
Kyle did.
“Of course.” Jones put up one palm. “I was clumsily trying to thank you on behalf of all our Scandinavian friends.”
Tor smiled and nodded after Kyle’s translation was complete.
“We have another one of your countrymen here who you might know.” Jones paused while Kyle spoke. “A champion ski jumper by the name of Torger Tokle.”
Tor nodded when he heard the name. “Han er her?” Is he here?
“Yes. In fact he’s assigned to the Eighty-sixth Infantry Regiment—the same regiment that you’ll be attached to.”
Tor looked at Kyle. “Does he have a translator?”
She shook her head. “He came over in thirty-nine. Went through basic in California before he was assigned here. Speaks pretty good English now.”
Tor nodded. “Tell the general I do know him.”
“Excellent!” Jones smiled. “So are you prepared to train our men in ski combat?”
Tor tried not to act like that was a stupid question. “Please tell him that in the Norwegian Army all soldiers are trained in ski combat.”
Kyle softened his words a little, but the point was essentially the same.
“Great. Let’s get you settled in.” General Jones looked
at his watch. “The officer’s supper shift has just been served. Lieutenant Solberg, why don’t you take the captain to eat first, and to his barracks afterwards?”
*****
Kyle’s boots crunched the snow underfoot in tandem with Tor’s as they crossed the camp to the huge mess hall. “How do you know Torger Tokle?”
“We were both on the nineteen-forty Winter Olympics team. Plus, Norway isn’t a big country. If you compete, you know each other.”
“But he left Norway a year before Hitler invaded?” Kyle wondered at that moment why Tor hadn’t done the same. “Before the Games were cancelled?”
“Yeah.” Tor shrugged. “I guess he figured out what was coming and bolted while he still had a career.”
“But you stayed.”
What she could see of Tor’s expression by the camp lights was grim. “I did.”
Did he regret that?
Don’t ask him now.
Kyle led the way into the mess hall. “The officers sit at the tables at the other end.”
Tor saw the ski-jumper at one of the tables. “What rank is Tokle?”
Kyle grinned up at him. “Sergeant.”
Tor grinned back and winked.
As the pair approached the bank of tables, Tokle looked up and saw Tor. His face split into a broad grin.
“Tor Hansen! I heard you were coming!”
Kyle stepped out of the way before the ski jumper knocked her over. He and Tor pounded each other’s shoulders like they were old buddies.
“That’s Captain Hansen to you, Sergeant,” Tor teased in Norsk. “It’s good to see you, man!”
Kyle settled into an empty seat at Tokle’s table. Tor dropped into the seat beside her and Torger moved his tray so that he was facing Tor. The pair of Norsemen engaged in an animated conversation that she understood, but did not try to become a part of.
Meanwhile the other officers at the table stared at the men in bemusement.
An American sergeant turned to her. “Can you follow what they’re saying?”
“Of course.” She laughed at the man’s surprised expression. “Norwegian was my first language.”
Tor glanced at her, momentarily halting his conversation with Torger. When she shot him an inquisitive glance he just smiled and resumed his reunion.
*****
Tor left the table with Kyle to get his food. He returned to the table with his tray, his stomach finally settled and eager to dig in.
“This isn’t bad,” he said to Torger with his mouth full. “How’s the food overall?”
“Lacking in fish, I’m afraid,” the Norseman answered. “But we do have meat everyday.”
That’s a blessing.
“It’s tough at home,” Tor said softly.
“I know.” Torger lowered his eyes. “I get letters sometimes.”
Tor chewed a piece of beef. It was a little overcooked, but he savored it anyway. It had been a long time since he enjoyed such a luxury.
“So. You have a translator.” Torger’s mischievous gaze moved to Kyle who didn’t seem to hear him. “You’re a lucky man.”
Tor didn’t know how to respond to that, other than to say, “I appreciate the general thinking of it.”
“It’s too bad you didn’t come sooner.”
I tried. “Why?”
“There was a group of a thousand Norsk-speaking American soldiers training here.” Torger grinned. “They were called the ‘Viking’ battalion. But they deployed in September.”
Tor stared at his friend, wondering if his leg was being pulled. “Are you serious? Viking?”
“Ask your lieutenant.” Torger scooped the last bite of apple pie into his mouth. “Anyway, you’ll learn English soon enough. It’s easy to pick up.”
Tor kept his eyes lowered and focused on his food. In light of Torger’s words—which he was certain that Kyle heard and understood—he wondered how long he could maintain his ruse.
“We’ll see then.”
Tor lifted his cup of black coffee and inhaled the aroma. The fact that his coffee was actually black and not transparent brown was encouraging. He couldn’t remember the last time he had a strong, hot cup of coffee.
The first sip did not disappoint.
“Ahhh…” he sighed aloud. “This is good.”
He turned to look at Kyle, and she met his eyes.
Mostly gray.
With green around the pupil.
Satisfied, Tor returned his attention to his coffee.
Chapter
Three
Kyle wasn’t allowed inside the men’s barracks, so she asked one of the guards on duty to escort Tor to his room on the second floor. Officers were billeted in the same barracks as the enlisted men in their units but in a separate area.
“The other ski instructors are billeted at the Mountain Training Center, but I’m afraid it’s full,” Kyle apologized. “But this building is closer to the camp’s amenities.”
She handed him the key to his room. “I’ll see you tomorrow when I pick you up for breakfast. Officers eat at eight.”
Tor palmed the brass key, warmed by her hand. “What will we do tomorrow?”
“I’ll take you on a tour of the camp before lunch. Then we’ll get you kitted out afterwards.”
“Thank you, Lieutenant.”
Kyle smiled. “My pleasure, sir.”
Tor faced the guard and motioned for the man to lead him. He hefted his duffel bag onto his shoulder and followed the soldier up the wooden stairs to the second floor. His room was at the far end of the hall.
“Tusen takk,” he said to the guard, who saluted sharply before walking away.
Tor shut the door and considered his Spartan but clean quarters. The small room had a single bed, a metal desk, and wooden dresser. The closet didn’t have a door, just a sturdy rod in the carved out rectangle. There was more than enough room to hang his uniforms, so whatever garments he received the next day should fit as well.
“Welcome home, soldier,” he muttered while he unpacked his bag and tucked everything neatly away.
The task complete, he yawned and stretched. The more than twenty-four hours of travel hit him hard all of a sudden, and the weight of his exhaustion drained the strength from him.
Time for bed.
After stripping to trousers, t-shirt, and slippers, Tor grabbed his shaving kit and one of the two towels that were folded on the bed and headed back down the hall to the shared latrine. He counted rooms along the way—eight on each side. If half the rooms held junior officers at two per room, then there were twenty-four men sharing the second-floor facilities.
That would do.
Tor relieved himself before he washed his face and brushed his teeth. A few other officers wandered in to do the same. They nodded a greeting, but didn’t say anything.
Tor nodded back.
They know who I am, he realized. And they don’t think I know English.
Perfect.
November 19, 1943
Camp Hale, Colorado
Kyle drove an open jeep today and kept up her patter as she drove Tor around the spread-out camp.
“The Tenth Light Division has eighty-five hundred troops here. The Tenth is comprised of three Infantry Regiments: the Eighty-fifth, Eighty-sixth, and Eighty-seventh.”
She looked at him. “You’re assigned to the Eighty-sixth.”
“I remember.”
She smiled slyly. “Just making sure.”
Tor rolled his eyes. “I’m fine.”
Just because he slept like a dead man, missing breakfast and coming late to lunch, didn’t mean he’d lost his memory or his mind.
“Well, you wouldn’t have seen this, anyway,” Kyle waved a gloved hand around them. “You can’t tell now, but this morning the clouds covered the mountains more than halfway down.”
Tor looked at the mountains completely surrounding the flat valley where Camp Hale was constructed. They looked adequate for training purposes.
He consu
lted the map of the camp that Kyle gave him. They drove past building after building while she named them off in quick succession.
“Motor Vehicle Repair. Fuel, coal, and water storage. Sewage treatment. Ordnance warehouses. Fire Station Number One. Hospital, infirmary, dental office.”
“Number one?” Tor looked up from the map. “How many fire stations are there?”
“Two.” Kyle turned the wheel. “You’ve seen the main administration building. This is the auxiliary one.”
He stared at the map again. “How long did it take for you to learn all of this?”
“A couple weeks.” She chuckled. “Once I was able to drive around instead of walk around, I learned a lot faster.”
“This camp is bigger than most of the towns in Norway.” A new thought occurred. “Will you always be driving me around?”
“I expect so.” Kyle steered the jeep onto a road. “Cooper Hill is about five or six miles from the camp. That’s where the MTC is and the other instructors.”
Mountain Training Center.
Right.
Kyle sped down the road before making a sharp turn. She slowed the jeep to a stop and turned off the engine.
She looked at him, clearly concerned. “I won’t be going up the mountain with you. Is that going to cause a problem?”
Tor shook his head. He’d already thought about that, should the question arise.
“Skiing is about demonstrating, not talking. I’ll be fine.”
“Good.” Kyle jumped out of the vehicle. “Come on.”
Tor did the same. “Where are we going?”
“This is Cooper Hill. I want to show you the T-bar.” She walked away from him obviously expecting him to follow.
“This is where you go up to the top,” she said over her shoulder. “The T-bar goes seven miles an hour, and pulls two men at a time up the mile-and-a-quarter to the top.”
Tor caught up with her in three strides. He’d heard of systems like that and was eager to see this one.
He heard men’s voices coming from straight ahead. Boisterous and booming, he caught a few words before the masculine sound was swallowed by snow and trees.
