The 12th Man

by Astrid Karlsen Scott

  “Peder, would you be willing to take on an assignment for me? It might be a way to earn a few extra kroner, but it will be with your own life as a pawn.”

  “I can’t promise you anything before you tell me what this assignment is, Aslak.”

  Aslak was desperate. There was no more time to lose; the wounded soldier needed to get to Sweden for medical help. The responsibility rested heavy on his shoulders. Assuming Peder would say yes, Aslak took the chance, and brought Peder up to date on the secret mission.

  Peder listened intently as he learned of the happenings in Toftefjord and how one of the commando soldiers from Brattholm had managed to escape. Now seriously ill, he was hidden in a snow cave up in the Revdal Mountains. It was imperative that he be found before long and transported to Sweden. Once Peder had been filled in, no hesitation clouded his mind.

  “If that’s the situation, it’s okay,” he volunteered his readiness right then.

  “You can’t go into the mountains alone this time of the year, Peder. Nigo is ready to join you. He is ready, packed and waiting,” Aslak said. “You have to go tonight.”

  “No problem. I’ll get ready.”

  Hope and energy returned to Aslak after he spoke with Peder. The heavy burden he had been carrying vanished, and he was filled with triumph.

  Peder’s leisurely walk ended abruptly. He hurried home with a long quick stride. Memories of childhood lessons to give food and a place to any guest came to his mind. The soldier in the mountain surely was such a guest, even though he had arrived in an unusual and dramatic manner. Peder saw it as his Christian duty to help.

  Halfway home Peder dropped in on his friend Nigo who sat ready waiting for word. They agreed to go their separate ways through the village and to meet above the tree line at 10:30 p.m. The two friends gave each other strength of mind and vitality. Both were elated about the mission they had accepted. Finally they would be of service to Norway.

  Peder hurried home and changed his clothes. He readied his skis and started for the woods and up into the mountains. The two men went unnoticed as they skied through the Arctic darkness, and met as planned high up on a slope just above the tree line.

  It was a difficult climb up the steep mountain, dark and quiet. They advanced steadily, hardly speaking, concentrating on their every move. Young and strong, they made good time. Within two hours they reached the plateau. Ski conditions were good, and it wasn’t particularly cold. Only a mild wind caressed the tundra.

  Mount Balggesvarri towered in the darkness. They made a path around it and turned slightly southwest to Revdalen. There was still quite a distance to their goal. Not attempting to conserve their energy, they sped along the plateau up over hillocks, and down again from the top of the plateau towards Revdal, dashing along in search of the boulder where the soldier was hidden.

  The area they arrived at by following Aslak’s instructions was strewn with large boulders and rocks. They hurried from boulder to boulder, searching. Their calls rang out into the dark quiet of the vast mountain plateau, “Hello Gentleman! Hello Gentleman!”

  Their voices did not carry far in this immense domain.

  The plateau remained silent.

  The men of Furuflaten had left no tracks. A rock-to-rock search was of no avail. After two hours of fruitless searching, Peder and Nigo called it quits. It was four in the morning, and they needed to reach Manndalen before six when their neighbors started their barn chores. Would the soldier be able to survive another night? Or was he dead? Their unanswered questions troubled them deeply.

  With subdued spirits they climbed back up to the tundra. Once on top, they raced downward to Manndalen and reached home in the early morning hours of April 26.

  Manndalen, Monday, April 26, 1943: As soon as prudent, Peder Isaksen and Nigo cautiously contacted Aslak and teacher Nordnes. Both were deeply distressed over hearing the soldier was still in the mountains.

  “There are hundreds of boulders and rocks up there,” Nigo explained.

  “The boulder where Jan is has to be marked clearly if we are to find him,” added Peder Isaksen.

  Peder Bergmo in Olderdalen had to be contacted at once. Peder Isaksen and teacher Nordnes hurried down through the village and rowed across Kåfjord to find Peder Bergmo. His surprise and shock when he saw them revealed he understood the reason for their visit.

  “Will you get a message to Marius?”

  “Yes, of course. I’ll ferry across to Lyngseidet and take the bus from there to Furuflaten. But I have to find an excuse for leaving this office.”

  Unable to leave the following day, he troubled over how to get away, concerned the whole while for the soldier in the mountain.

  Furuflaten, Wednesday, April 28, 1943: Finally arriving at Furuflaten, Peder Bergmo walked the last few miles to the Grønvoll farm.

  “Marius, they didn’t find him! The place has to be marked. There are too many boulders and the men are unable to find the place.”

  Marius grew tense. “Poor Jan! Buried three days in a snow cave. It’ll be a miracle if he hasn’t frozen to death.”

  Though Marius believed his friend to be dead, he had to find a way back up into the mountains.

  GRAVE CONCERNS FOR JAN

  MARIUS WAS reassured that the Manndalen men were ready to climb back up into the mountains to rescue Jan and bring him to Sweden as soon as his hiding place was clearly marked. He committed to doing so immediately. He knew, however, that the hike up into the mountain plateau was too dangerous to undertake alone should the mountains and weather reveal their fury.

  He thought of his trustworthy buddy Amandus and his sturdy boat. No doubt Amandus would, without any ado, say yes. The weather conditions looked promising. But Marius also had an eye for a beautiful young lady who lived by the fjord at the northern end of Furuflaten village. Olaf Lanes’ sister, Agnete, had incredible physical endurance, but beyond that, she had an understanding heart with a deep centered inner strength. Never one to shy away from hard work, she met challenges head on and saw them through to successful endings.

  Agnete was admired by many of the young men in the village but it was she and Marius who enjoyed a deep friendship and spent much time together.

  Marius felt the pressure of getting Jan to safety and he yearned to share his feelings with Agnete because she would know exactly how he felt, and she was trustworthy. As soon as Peder Bergmo had left for home, he contacted her. Agnete listened quietly to the astonishing story.

  “My goodness Marius, I’ll go with you,” Agnete responded without a moment’s hesitation.

  “Are you sure Agnete? You understand the risk involved?”

  “I understand.”

  “Our efforts might be in vain. The wounded soldier might already be dead.”

  “I’ll go.”

  Marius embraced her. “This might be the most important work we will have the opportunity to do in this war.”

  He had wanted very much for Agnete to come with him and was positive that she could manage the stressful climb and the emotional strain involved.

  Hurriedly they changed into their ski clothes and filled their knapsacks with food and provisions. Marius allowed a small flicker of hope to burn. Over and over his mind repeated, “We are coming Jan. Stay alive!”

  Always aware that Nazis might be watching, Marius asked Agnete to walk along the beach a short distance from her home and he and Amandus would row and pick her up. The three of them set out across Lyngenfjord.

  A good hour passed before they reached Revdal. Skis, poles and knapsacks were taken ashore. This time they chose a different route than the one they had used to transport Jan. Supposedly a few hundred meters south of Hotel Savoy, the climb would be a little easier. Amandus would wait for their return north of the Innerelva River.

  Agnete (Lanes) Grønvoll’s identification card

  Marius and Agnete ascended the first half of the climb rather quickly. As they mounted higher, huge boulders and vertical crags slowed them down. They
pulled themselves up by birch trunks and branches and handed their skis and poles to each other enabling them to grip on to the outcrops with both hands. The rushing sound of the river hidden deep in the cleft to the south guided them.

  Each mount above them gave the impression that they had reached their goal, only to find another higher one ahead. From their vantage point they could see a good stretch of Lyngenfjord below. Appearances were deceiving in the mountains. Mountaintop followed mountaintop; the plateau was so much higher than the impression they had acquired from the other side of the fjord.

  Marius looked up and spotted the vertical mountain wall towards Larsbergfjellet Mountain. It loomed black and ominous against the night sky. The mountaintop they had reached gradually rounded off toward even terrain. From the plateau, the pass higher up became visible.

  “Look Agnete!” Marius pointed. “Jan is hidden right inside the opening of that pass.” The wind was biting and he tried to sound optimistic, though they still had a long climb ahead. Able to use their skis again, the distance quickly narrowed where the plateau was fairly flat. A few minor knolls here and there did not trouble them as they headed toward the last steep rising. Turning in a southerly direction to come nearer to Innerelva River, they followed the edge of the cleft on the northern side. Two hours of steady and difficult climbing had left them exhausted.

  The huge boulder was in sight a few yards ahead on the rocky slope by the precipitous mountain wall. Their bodies tensed; was Jan still alive? Marius sped ahead the last few feet. Agnete followed in his tracks. He unfastened his skis and crawled around to the east side of the boulder. Marius saw that the ski pole they had placed in the snow on their earlier visit had blown down. Snatches of tracks from their last visit were still discernible.

  He stood on his knees and began to dig with his hands. Close by, Agnete stood silently shielding her face with mitten-covered hands. The wind was sharp and cold and the snow was packed down hard. Below the whirling snow, and the top layer of new snow, Marius butted up to the snow blocks they had placed three days ago. He kept digging; suddenly the snow collapsed around his arms.

  Agnete moved closer to look inside and caught sight of Jan’s motionless bearded face.

  “Don’t sweetheart, move back a bit. I am afraid Jan is dead.” Marius gently tugged at her arm.

  From within the cave a weak, distraught voice responded, “Oh no! You can’t fool an old fox!”

  “Jan! Jan! Thank God you’re alive! We were afraid we’d find you dead.”

  “I am okay. I’ve kept the hope that you would return.” Jan whispered.

  “We’re here to take care of you, Jan. And we’ve brought you something hot to eat.”

  To see Jan alive gave new strength to both of them. They dug hard with their remaining energy and pretty soon the snow cave was open.

  Agnete crawled into the opening and saw Jan’s weary face close-up. Lifeless eyes peered from sunken cheeks and his pitch-black beard rendered his face colorless. Like a mummy, Jan laid on the wood sleigh, tucked into the sleeping bag. Slowly he began to move and freed his arms. Shakily, Jan reached toward Agnete.

  He held her hands in his as he studied her face.

  “You must be Agnete. Marius has mentioned you a time or two to me in the past.” He gradually moved his head and winked at Marius then turned back toward Agnete and flashed a weak smile, “My name is Jan.”

  Agnete’s eyes became moist. Unable to speak, she squeezed his hands.

  With both hands Jan took the thermos bottle filled with hot soup. Marius lifted up his head to help him drink.

  “I thought you already were safely in Sweden,” Marius explained. “It was not until today that I learned that the Manndalen men had not found you. Two men have been up here hunting for you for hours but without luck.” Jan just listened.

  “Agnete and I are here tonight to mark your place more clearly. As soon as we’ve returned home, we will send a message on to Manndalen that you are ready. They will pick you up right away and bring you over the border.”

  With his friends close by, some hot food and the good news, Jan quickened. “This man is amazing,” Marius thought as he looked admiringly at Jan. “His fortitude and will to live are astounding!” Marius emptied Jan’s sleeping bag of waste and put him back in again.

  Agnete placed the food from the knapsacks close by Jan’s sled.

  “What else can we do for you, Jan?” Marius found his own words rather empty.

  “Oh thanks, but nothing really. Well, maybe there is something – a little hot water for a bath?”

  Jan’s humor had resurfaced – just like it had in the barn.

  All laughed, but it was rather subdued. They knew the time for parting was at hand. Jan’s friends kneeled near him, against his sled in the snow. Leaving him alone again was painful. Jan lay on his back and stared up at the snow covering above him. No one found the right words.

  The whirling snow drifted around the boulder and down into the snow cave. The surrounding plateau was enormous, but the darkness camouflaged Jan’s hiding place.

  ”Promise me, be careful on the way down and get home safely across the fjord.” Jan whispered.

  Agnete tied the hood tight around her face; she was wet from perspiration from the climb up, and now had chilled off.

  A hush fell over all of them.

  The whirling snow blew into the cave from all angles.

  “Jan, keep up your courage. The men will soon return. We’ll keep close track of you,” Marius strained to smile at his friend.

  “Thanks for all you have done for me.” Jan turned his face toward the inner snow wall.

  The two gently touched his covered up arm and quietly left and sealed up the cave behind them. Marius crossed two ski poles and stuck them deep into the snow a few meters away from the “Gentleman stone,” and tied them crisscross at the top. They had to be clearly seen, especially from the direction in which the Manndalen men would approach. The wind tore at the two of them as they fastened the poles securely in the snow.

  The force of the wind would have blown Agnete off her feet if Marius had not been close by to catch her. But even Marius had problems as they clung to each other. Once they left Jan’s cave, they could find no shelter and they fought their way across the plateau and over to the mountain ridge. The wind eased a little as they started their descent, a strenuous, demanding climb.

  Thursday morning, April 29, 1943: Agnete and Marius had been gone nearly five hours by the time they reached Amandus waiting for them in the boat. The trip home seemed drawn out, and the fjord seemed wider than ever for Marius and Agnete, both struggling to control their emotions. Agnete had been very quiet while they were in the mountains. The vastness of it all overpowered her in the dark. And now she was deeply concerned for Jan.

  “Poor Jan is still up here, all alone behind that boulder.” With her own hands she had helped Marius seal up his cave. “Will he have the strength to make it through?” Her conscience kept her doubting. “Did they do the right thing when they left him alone, or should one of them have remained with him?” Chilled and despondent, Agnete sat quietly in the back of the boat by herself.

  No one in Furuflaten would ever know, at least not until after the war, of the selflessness shown by the three young people during the night – their friends and neighbors still slept as they returned.

  Amandus parted from Marius and Agnete when they reached the shore. To avoid discovery at this undesirable hour of the night, they made new plans. Marius and Agnete flung their skis over their shoulders, picked up the other supplies and headed for Lyngspollen some two and a half miles north of Furuflaten. Marius’ friend, Kristian Solberg owned a fishing boat with his son Alf. The 48 foot boat was moored at Lyngspollen. The Solbergs lived north of the river about 50 yards from Alvin Larsen’s home.

  A brisk, biting wind quickened their gait. Weary, Marius and Agnete trudged through the snow alongside the edge of the road in the darkness. Marius knew the Solbergs well
and felt sure they would not mind he had found refuge aboard their boat.

  Marius and Agnete crept aboard quickly. In the stern, they placed their skis, the two empty milk pails and the two blankets they had brought from their visit with Jan. Suspicious people in Furuflaten would not find a reason to talk should they be seen when they headed for home.

  Marius looked at Agnete. Admiration shone in his eyes. She had endured an arduous ordeal without complaint. Marius noticed she was shivering mercilessly. He picked up one of the blankets and lovingly enfolded Agnete in it as he guided her toward the wheelhouse for shelter. She looked so fragile, yet she had a resolute will coupled with courage. They spoke in whispers.

  “Marius do you think Jan has a chance?”

  “A slim chance.” He studied her face, fraught with concern. He wanted to spare her, yet he could not lie. “It all depends on if the weather holds and if the Manndalen men can find him in time.”

  They remained silent, each struggling with their own emotions.

  When the early dawn pierced the darkness on the Eastern horizon, Marius pointed, “Look Agnete, the morning is breaking. The people of Furuflaten will begin their labors soon.”

  “Ja, that we can be sure of, “ she smiled.

  “Let’s go home, Agnete. I believe it will be safe now.” They left behind their skis and the supplies, planning to pick them up later. Marius saw Agnete home. They hugged. “Thank you, Agnete. Thank you.”

  They stood quietly a moment before she tore herself loose and went inside.

  Marius ran up the steep hill toward Alvin Larsen’s home. This could not wait until morning. “We have to get to Manndalen in a hurry. Can you possibly take me across the fjord in your fishing boat?”

  “I only need a minute.” Even without an explanation, Alvin realized the urgency. Marius, between deep breaths, told him the whole story. This early in the morning, it was impossible to disguise their telephone messages, and time was of the essence. Jan was seriously ill.