A World Gone Mad: The Wartime Diaries

by Astrid Lindgren

  Rauno Virtanen was here today. He came by plane from Åbo [Turku] last night. Seeing him sit there, fighting back his tears, was one of the worst things I’ve experienced for a long time.

  13 March 1940 has been a hard day.

  9 APRIL

  Peace – wasn’t it? No, no – as far from peace as ever! I’m so deathly tired this evening that I can hardly write.

  Since early this morning, Norway has been at war with Germany. Denmark has been occupied by the Germans, who took over the entire Danish administration and met no resistance. Telephone links to Norway have been cut, but the Norwegians seem to be putting up a fight, for the time being. Germany’s reason for taking over ‘the armed protection of Norwegian neutrality’ is officially that, yesterday or the day before, the British mined Norwegian waters to stop the transport of iron ore from Narvik to Germany. But the German assault has no doubt been planned for a long time. Troops have landed here, there and everywhere. Bergen, Trondheim, Oslo and various other places are occupied. The Norwegian government has taken itself off to Hamar. The Allies have pledged Norway immediate help.

  So now the Nordic countries are a theatre of war after all, and Sweden is the only one of them not to have experienced foreign troops on its soil. The peaceful corner of Europe [in English], ha ha! We’re braced for general mobilization and it’s probably only a matter of time before the Germans decide to ‘defend’ our neutrality, too.

  I was at Rudling’s solicitor’s office today when I heard the dreadful news. Rudling came in and said in his usual, quiet way: ‘Well – it’s war, so I don’t know if there’s much point carrying on with this.’ I felt the blood rushing through my body. My first thought was to dash home to the children, but in the end I stayed there, writing letters about divorce and the law on sale of movable property. Out on the streets, people look the same as usual. I suppose we’re getting used to it now.

  But I’m so fed up that the chance to be happy has been snatched away. Just when it’s finally over in Finland and we ought to be happy that the sun’s shining again after the terrible winter and look forward to spring and summer, along comes a new blow, more crushing than ever. We’re back to not daring to look even a day ahead. We can’t plan anything. All we can plan for is evacuation. And I provided the required details this evening.

  12 APRIL

  12 April 1940 – it was a day of alarm, anxiety and distress in Stockholm. The air is abuzz with rumours – word was that at 6 o’clock today, Germany would be informed whether we’d allow its troops to march through to Norway, but it could just be a rumour like all the rest. Everybody’s talking, everybody’s heard different rumours, everybody wants to get out of town. Sture received a special-delivery letter at noon today about reporting for military duty and at 3.15 he went off on the bus to Spånga. I haven’t heard anything from him. In practice this is general mobilization, even though they’re not calling it that.

  They say some of the schools have closed. I wish Norra Latin would close, too, because then I’d take the children straight home to Näs [where she grew up, in the Småland countryside]. Unfortunately Karin’s in bed with a temperature and a sore throat, which feels appropriate somehow, with everything else being so rotten.

  It feels rather desolate, being left with sole responsibility for the children in times like these. Anne-Marie is leaving with her three tomorrow. I expect it’s the thought of Oslo being caught napping that’s made people here want to get out. If only we knew what was coming!

  13 APRIL

  69 2-1918 Lindgren of the veteran reserve came home on his first leave. ‘Never will the memory fade, of how splendid he appeared,’ [a line of verse from Johan Ludvig Runeberg’s The Tales of Ensign Stål]. A tiny little peaked cap on the crown of his head and a gloriously ugly, ill-fitting uniform coat. Under that a short jacket and a thick sweater, with trousers that are way too tight and pull across the stomach. The whole family gathered round him and laughed. But there’s not much else to laugh about. He hasn’t had a bite to eat since lunch here yesterday, when his marching orders arrived. He couldn’t face eating out of greasy mess tins. He tucked into his roast meat and potatoes with a hearty appetite. He’d spent the night fully clothed and wrapped in his civilian overcoat, lying on the floor with just a bit of straw for padding. He froze to the bone. We lent him Lasse’s sleeping bag and pillowcase, and some cutlery, to help him cope with the worst of it. At 10 o’clock he had to venture out into the foul weather and go back to Spånga. I couldn’t help feeling sorry for him.

  14 APRIL

  What an awfully dismal day! Grey, grey, with persistent sleet. Karin still in bed. Lars out with the Scouts. And Sture rang to say he couldn’t get a leave of absence.

  Then Stellan came round and a bit later Sture turned up after all. He had to go back at half-past eight, though. After that, Alli, Elsa, Karin L. [Litiäinen]. and I went to the pictures. Juninatten [June Night, starring Ingrid Bergman]. But it’s hopeless trying to relax. The nightmare hangs over you all the time. The British have mined the whole Baltic Sea, except for Swedish territorial waters. In Norway, the war continues unabated. King Haakon is being targeted by bombers and had to take to the forest. It was largely as a result of treachery that Germany’s surprise attack on Norway succeeded. The Norwegian Nazis have betrayed their country. But resistance is going well in the far north, at any rate, and the British and Norwegians have apparently retaken Narvik.

  A look into the future offers a pretty gloomy prospect, even if we’re lucky enough to avoid the war. Our exports to the West have seized up entirely. And our imports, of course. The gas board’s warning us that the situation could get critical if we don’t cut down on gas consumption, but goodness knows how we’re supposed to cut down when we need the gas for heating water. Before long we could find ourselves without any gas at all, and then what? Gas-meter tokens have gone up from 20 to 25 öre and a single on the tram costs 20 öre now. Electric power is dearer, food is dearer, sugar went up again the other day by four öre a kg and is now rationed, like tea and coffee. But I’m sure this is just the beginning for us; the total blockade hasn’t been in force for long. So we can always comfort ourselves with the thought that it’ll only get worse.

  29 APRIL

  In Norway, the punch-up continues. So many towns and villages have been devastated by the bombing. So many people are homeless. I think it must be worse living in Norway than it was in Finland, because the internal front in Norway has let it down so woefully. Norwegian resistance overall seems to have been pretty lame. The Allies’ contribution so far has been less than useless. Though they are apparently there in considerable force, both the British and the Germans. In the far north the Norwegian mobilization went more or less to plan and the British are in control of the situation up there. But all of southern Norway is in German hands and they’re advancing with terrible intensity and efficiency. There was a big press conference in Berlin where Ribbentrop gave a speech and produced documents proving that the Allies had plans to invade Norway, which were only foiled by Germany intervention. They also made claims that the Norwegian government hasn’t been absolutely neutral. On the other hand, Ribbentrop said that the Swedish government had observed strict neutrality. The foreign press is saying Sweden’s position has improved considerably. But we’re still on a state of high military alert, and we hope that won’t change until this wretched war finally ends.

  2 MAY

  Spring is here! ‘O, hur härligt majsol ler’ [‘How the glorious May sun smiles’], the Uppsala students sang [in their traditional serenade to the spring] on the radio on Walpurgis Night, and it was almost unbearably lovely to hear. We had sparkling sunshine all through the public holiday and it’s finally a bit warmer after that awful winter. Yesterday virtually the whole of Stockholm marched in procession to Gärdet for a unified, cross-party demonstration. Mrs Stäckig and Göran were there with me and the children, watching. The whole city was a hive of activity.

  Today, Karin and I were out a
t [the woods and lake at] Judarn and could really see that spring had arrived. There’s something so odd about the spring this year: one can’t help being cheered up by it but at the same time it feels even more unbearable to think of people killing each other with the sun shining and the flowers budding.

  6 MAY

  Some days ago, the British got back on board their ships and gave up Norway, or at any rate all of it except for Narvik. So that leaves the Norwegians without any allies. The entire south of Norway is German and all resistance has ended. In the north, the struggle goes on. There’s a lot of bitterness about Britain and its feeble assistance. This is probably the first really major defeat the Allies have suffered and their own press is anything but kind. Things are coming to a head in the Mediterranean instead, they say, and there are fears that Italy will finally remember the ‘Rome–Berlin Axis’ (of which we heard nothing for the duration of the Finnish war) and join the war on the German side. The Balkans is one of the flashpoints now, a volcano that could erupt at any time.

  10 MAY

  No, there was no eruption in the Balkans this time, it was all smoke and mirrors. As dawn was breaking this 10 May, German troops moved into Holland, Belgium and Luxembourg ‘on the broadest of fronts’. And the battle that ensues will, according to Hitler’s order of the day, decide ‘the fate of the German people for the next thousand years’. Of course it’s not only the German people’s fate that’s at stake, but possibly all humanity’s. Now the war has really started. Germany’s justification is the standard one: prevention of an imminent Allied attack. As usual, they say they have documents that provide ‘evidence’ of such an invasion. What’s more, the Germans maintain that Belgium and Holland have not been strictly neutral and intended to allow the deployment of Allied troops on their territory. Bombardments and battles have started with a vengeance. Belgium is reckoned to have better prospects of defending itself than Holland, because it’s better fortified. Holland’s been partially laid under water. King Leopold has put himself at the head of the Belgian army.

  Princess Juliana is expecting her third child. It certainly isn’t much fun being a royal mother in times like these. Or a mother of any description.

  Last night the British prime minister, Chamberlain, resigned. Churchill took his place.

  In the whole of northern Europe Sweden is now the only nation that is neither currently at war, nor has been. But it could be our turn next. Germany is like some malevolent monster that emerges from its cave at regular intervals to pounce on a fresh victim. There has to be something wrong with a people that finds itself pitted against the rest of humanity every 20 years or so.

  WHIT MONDAY

  Ah, so now it’s blackout time for all of Sweden. The order has come through right in the middle of the Whit weekend. The south and west of Sweden have already had it for quite a while but from last night the whole country is to be blacked out ‘until further notice’. There’s also news about the rationing of toilet soap, household cleaning soap, washing powder and margarine. From 26 May, margarine is not to be sold for personal consumption at all.

  So far we have rationing of coffee, tea, sugar and margarine, but I expect that’s only the start. The current coffee, tea and sugar rations are sufficient for my household, at least.

  What a Whit Sunday we had yesterday! Filthy weather, cold – Sture on duty with the army from 6 in the morning to 5 in the afternoon. Karin’s come out in strange pustules, presumably triggered by some kind of bacterial infection, so I want to keep her at home. Lars went on a bike ride to Uppsala with Göran and Segerfelt.

  15 MAY

  Holland surrendered yesterday. Queen Wilhelmina and the government are in London. The children of the Belgian royal family must be there as well.

  Belgium is still holding out. Major engagements on the old First World War battlefields. It says in the evening papers that the Maginot Line has been breached somewhere. Whether it’s true or not, they’ve every reason to feel jittery in Paris and London. And the rest of us, for that matter. The German army is proceeding with terrible efficiency. For the first time in the history of the world, parachute troops have been deployed to real effect.

  18 MAY

  Brussels is under German occupation. The Germans also claim to have broken through a wide stretch of the Maginot Line and to be within 100km of Paris. One dreads opening the newspaper each day.

  This morning the new motor vehicle restrictions come into force. Almost all private cars will have to be off the road.

  21 MAY

  Today was Karin’s sixth birthday. Today the Germans reached the English Channel. And today summer arrived, wonderful and painfully lovely to take in, with all one’s senses. It really smelt like summer today, the air full of scents and the pale green of the leaves on the trees looking fabulous.

  For the first time in Karin’s life, her father wasn’t at home for her birthday. All leave was cancelled from Saturday evening, though Sture got special dispensation to stay at home until Sunday afternoon, when he went off into the spring rain. He hasn’t spent a night at home since, and will be sleeping in a tent for the next fortnight. That’s to say, the rest of his company will; being Sture, he’s arranged to have a roof over his head.

  All leave has been cancelled nationwide, and the reason is said to be that the Germans have demanded to be allowed to march through Sweden and the German navy has steamed up through the straits of Øresund. All military personnel the police found on the streets or at places of entertainment on Saturday evening were sent directly to their camps.

  God grant that the world will look different by Karin’s next birthday! She got a jug with matching glasses for fruit squash, a rain cape and underwear for her doll Margareta, a little doll sitting on a chair, a birthday cake, money from Granny and Grandad [Astrid Lindgren’s parents] and from Grandmother [her mother-in-law], a little doll with a pram from Anders, a silver spoon and some chocolate from Matte and Elsa-Lena, sweets from Pelle Dieden and Linnéa. So she was very happy. Anders, Matte and their mothers came round.

  In the evening I was out at Anne-Marie and Stellan’s at Stora Essingen. We went for a walk round the island in the light of the full moon with the scent of lime blossom and budding bird cherry in our nostrils. Lovely, lovely! But the Germans are advancing by forced march; nothing can stop them.

  25 MAY

  Our blackout was lifted yesterday, for the time being. In Britain they’ve more or less imposed a dictatorship. The British are finally starting to realize it’s a matter of life and death.

  28 MAY

  King Leopold surrendered today and ‘the Belgian army has ceased to exist’. Reynaud, addressing the French people on the radio, was openly critical of the fact that he took the step alone, without consulting his allies. But I don’t suppose he had any choice.

  5 JUNE

  In Germany, flags will be flown for eight days and bells rung for three in celebration of the battle for Flanders. The battle is ‘a bigger Waterloo, a bigger Sedan, a bigger Tannenberg than German history has ever seen’. And this morning they are launching a new offensive. Churchill made a speech in the House of Commons, admitting that the Allies had suffered huge losses of equipment. But at least most of the British Expeditionary Force managed to get back across the Channel in one piece. In the nick of time.

  Dunkirk has fallen and the last Allied soldier has left the bloodiest battlefield in world history to an occupying enemy. And the battle for Flanders can go down in history as the largest and possibly most remarkable of human conflicts.

  10 JUNE

  Today brought two pieces of news: Norway has laid down its weapons and Italy has declared war on France and England. The whole world is ablaze! America’s threatened to come into the war if Italy intervenes – so we’ll have to wait and see.

  14 JUNE

  SWASTIKA FLIES ON EIFFEL TOWER said the billboards this evening. The Germans have reached Paris. Deserted streets and shuttered windows met them there. It must be very hard to be P
arisian. In Berlin they’re ringing bells and waving flags like mad.

  16 JUNE

  Verdun has fallen. The French army is evidently in total disarray. It’s rumoured there’s to be a separate peace. Hitler was interviewed by an American journalist and expressed himself very soberly about his war aims.

  In the newspaper today there was a short item about Princess Juliana, who gave birth prematurely after escaping to London, and the baby boy later died. A son at last – how terrible that it had to be in circumstances like these. An ironic twist of fate.

  18 JUNE

  Pauvre France! The French army surrendered yesterday. The whole Maginot Line is surrounded, Paris has fallen into German hands and the enemy has forced its way into about half the country. ‘France will accept no ignominious peace,’ the papers are saying today, but, but, but! Hitler and Mussolini are meeting today: two hearty lads who can surely cook up a peace to outdo Versailles several times over. It says in Aftonbladet that they’re thinking of dividing France down the middle, not for ever of course, but for now and for the foreseeable future the country is to be occupied by German and Italian troops. Trust Mussolini to turn up like a vulture to share the spoils. ‘Just let me give him a piece of my mind,’ as Ingrid from Brofall’s maid put it. Poor France! Britain will carry on the fight. ‘Carry on’ is hardly the right phrase; ‘begin’ would be more like it, because up to now the British have had an extraordinary knack for avoiding combat. ‘The British will fight to the last Frenchman’ as usual. But just now it must feel pretty scary to be marooned on that island, waiting for the next lightning attack from Hitler. Because now it’ll presumably be Britain’s turn.