The first three installments of this Christmas serial appear in November Guest Articles.
Rolf sat in the pale light in a deserted hytte with five other men. He could barely discern their faces. Like him, they were all clad in black. The cabin was near the stones of Mjelthaugen, an ancient graveyard that had been there as far back as Rolf’s grandfather’s memory.
He didn’t know the other men’s names. They went by code names: Kobold (goblin), Kraken (monster), Jarl (noble), and Wasa (warrior). They had never asked Rolf for his name, referring to him simply as Burbot because he was a fisherman. Kobold and Kraken said they were from Haugesund, while the others claimed to be from Stavanger. Rolf doubted this information, since it was so freely given.
Like Rolf, all the men were tried and true jossings (patriots). They stood firm against the Nasjonal Samling, the Nazis. He was proud to be part of them. They had been sent to Gilke to learn why the Germans were so interested in occupying an insignificant island like Gilke. After all, the island’s name meant rag.
The leader, the man called Kobold, had first contacted Rolf, arriving at the cottage in the disguise of an islander looking for a lost goat. When they were alone Kobold told Rolf that someone had sent him, that he knew Rolf was a loyal Norwegian and that he wanted nothing to do with quislings (traitors who worked with the Nazis). He said that he knew Rolf was a fisherman and that his group needed a man who knew the coastline and the waters and who operated in view of the Nazis.
Rolf didn’t even stop to think it over. He said that he would help the resistance any way that he could. His joinging turned out to be a blessing. Kraken was in charge of getting messages in and out of the country, messages as well as packages and things that the resistance needed.
“Will we destroy the lighthouse?” Rolf asked. “There are Germans stationed there around the clock. They see me when I go to my boat. I have even shared cigarettes with them.”
Wasa had answered, “No. We are not ready to engage in any fire fights. We are not to destroy Norwegian property. We are not to make ourselves known, at least not yet.”
Kobold shrugged. “But the day may come when we have to do all these things; and if it does, we must be strong.”
“Ja,” Jarl agreed. “We must be prepared. We will not give up one inch of this island without a fight.”
“What is our mission?”
“Tonight,” Kobold stated firmly, “we are to meet the Yalderoy bus; of course, it is neither from Yalderoy nor is it a bus. It is a ship; but that is all you need to know.”
“We have needed supplies aboard the bus: rations, weapons, radios; but most importantly the Germans are sending in teachers to replace the ones they sent to the detention camps. These two women are from the mainland. They do not want to come here to teach the Nazi propaganda to the children. They are being forced. Our task tonight, other than gathering the supplies, are to make these two ladies disappear.”
“Kill them?” Rolf swallowed hard.
“NO! And this is your task. You have a boat. You will take them to the island of Yigra, where another of our groups will ferry them back to Norway with false papers that will enable them to go to Sweden.”
Wasa pressed a brown packet into Rolf’s hands. “Here are the false papers, Burdot. You are to go to your boat and wait. Kraken will bring the ladies to you.”
Then Jarl passed Rolf a stuffed gunny sack. “Here are the clothes that will make the ladies look like they are from here if you are stopped.”
Rolf took the sack. Kobold continued, “You are to take their clothes and discreetly burn them. Do not keep a single garment. We have word that the clothes they are wearing are marked so that they can be traced.”
“I will do my best.”
“Is your boat ready?”
“Yes. Even if I am seen, I don’t think the Germans will take much note of it. They see me almost daily go to my boat house. I even go there at night to work on my nets when I cannot sleep.”
“Good.”
“How will the ladies be brought?”
“You have no need to know, only recognize the signal. It will be a loud clink and you will answer, ‘Skoal’.”
“I understand,” Rolf assured him. Then Rolf remembered the letter he had written to Lars. “I have a letter to get to my brother in America. Can you get it out? The Nazis are now checking the mail I take.”
“I will try; but if we run into trouble, we will destroy it first.”
“How will I know?”
“You may never know. Please don’t speak of it again.”
Rolf’s heart beat anxiously as he waited at the boat house for the signal. And when it came and he answered, he opened the door and found two ladies standing there. They were dressed from head to toe as Nazi officers.
Rolf gulped, but one of the ladies asked, “You have changes of clothes and new identities for us, correct?”
“Yes, you will find them inside. I will wait here in case you were followed; but, hurry it is a two-hour trip and I must be back before first light.”
Rolf reflected as he destroyed the Nazi uniforms in the kitchen fire on how well the mission had gone. The ladies were met at the drop off point and spirited away without a word from the two men dressed in black who met them there.
Rolf had been the only one to speak, uttering the password “garm” (watchdog).
Now he mused as he made certain that even the uniforms’ metal buttons melted, if only my letter completes its journey to my brother Knut.