Hammond Innes: Blue Ice

‘Oh, we didn’t stay there long, miss. We does a bit o’ training up in Scotland and then we’re parachuted back inter Norway. Makes yer laugh, don’t it — all that trouble ter get a’t o’ the country — all the way ra’nd the world we goes ter get ter England — an’ they goes an’ drops us back inter Norway.’ He passed his hand across his face again. He was dead beat with weariness. But he couldn’t stop talking. He’d reached the stage where he had to talk. ‘But we comes back wiv more than the rucksack we goes a’t wiv. They drops a case o’ bren guns an’ nitroglycerine an’ grenades wiv us. Oh, we ‘as a fine ol’ time. We comes da’n ter Bergen an’ starts sabotaging ships. To this ruddy day they thinks the ammoonition ship wot blows up by the ol’ Walkendorff Tower is due to carelessness o’ German welders.’ He giggled. ‘Well, it weren’t, see. It was me an’ Peer. Blimey, Oi’m a ruddy good diver. Ask anyone in the shippin’ business in Bergen. They’ll say Alf Sunde — his loafs all wood, but ‘e’s the best diver in Norway.’

‘When you were dropped in Norway,’ Jill interrupted, trying to conceal her excitement, ‘what unit were you with?’

‘Why the Norwegian Army, miss.’

‘Yes — but what unit?’

‘Oh, I see — Kompani Linge.’

Jill’s eyes lit up. ‘Put it there,’ she said holding out her hand. ‘We both worked for the same people.’

‘Wot you, miss — in the Kompani Linge?’ Sunde’s whole face had lit up too, infected by her enthusiasm.

‘Yes,’ she nodded. ‘I was one of their radio operators.’

‘Blimey,’ he said, seizing her hand. ‘Oi thought there was somefink familiar aba’t your voice. You was one o’ the girls wot used ter give us our instructions on the radio.’ Again she nodded. ‘Well, knock me fer a row o’ little green apples! An’ I never met you. Ever meet my mate — Peer Storjohann! Corporal, ‘e was.’

Jill shook her head. Then she leaned towards him. ‘Did you know most of the Kompani?’

‘We was trainin’ wiv ‘em for nearly a year — that was 1941. We knew most o’

‘em who was in Scotland then.’

‘Did you know Korporal Bernt Olsen?’

‘Bernt Olsen?’ Sunde’s face froze. ‘Yus — Oi knew Bernt Olsen. Why?’

‘Bernt Olsen’s real name was George Farnell. It was Bernt Olsen who was killed on the Jostedal. And Schreuder was with him at the time. Now please — please tell me where you have taken Schreuder. You did pick him up this morning, didn’t you?’

I shrank back farther into the shadows by the companionway, praying that he would tell her all he knew.

‘Well — yus, miss.’ His voice sounded puzzled and uncertain. ‘That is ter say- Look miss — we picks a man up this morning. All roight. But I dunno who ‘e is or what ‘e is. If.yer wants to know more aba’t ‘im — well, you go an’ talk ter Peer. ‘E’s the one ter tell yer. If Olsen’s yer boy friend — well, you go an’ talk ter me partner.’

‘Yes, but where will we find your partner?’

‘A-ah.’ He rubbed his dark chin. ‘Oi dunno as Oi roightly oughter tell yer that. ‘Cos if I told yer that it’d be tellin’ where — this man is, wouldn’t it now?’

‘But you must,’ Jill whispered.

‘Who must?’ Sunde banged his head on the table. ‘Nah look ‘ere, miss. Oi ain’t never told nobody nuffink, see. I bin in the ‘ands of the Gestapo once an’ Oi never said nuffink. An’ Oi ain’t goin’ ter talk now, not when a comrade’s life may be at stake.’

‘Comrade? How do you mean?’ Jill asked.

‘Well, ‘e’s a comrade, ain’t ‘e? We was in it tergether.’

‘The man you picked up this morning?’ Jill seized hold of Sunde’s arm and shook it. ‘I’ve already told you — he’s an Austrian Jew who became a naturalised Norwegian and then worked for the Germans.’

Sunde passed his hand wearily over his face again. ‘You’re gettin’ me all mixed up,’ he said. ‘Oi don’t know rightly wot Oi’m sayin’. Fair droppin’ wiv tiredness, Oi am. Why don’t you let up, miss? Proper third degree. Let me get some sleep. Then Oi’ll be able ter fink clearer.’

‘All right,’ Jill said wearily.

I went in then. ‘Hallo, Sunde,’ I said. ‘How are you feeling? Hand all right?’

‘Not so bad,’ he answered. ‘Thanks fer wot you done, Mr Gansert. Proper bastard Lovaas is.’

‘You went to Nordhanger this afternoon?’ I said.

He hesitated, ‘Ja,’ he answered.

‘Had Lovaas been there before you?’

‘Yep. I saw ‘im at Bovaagen when ‘e come back in the drosje.’

‘And then you went out to Nordhanger yourself?’

‘That’s roight.’

‘Did Lovaas get anything out of Einar Sandven?’

‘Einer wasn’t there.’

‘Where was he?’

‘I ain’t sayin’ where ‘e is.’

‘What about his wife?’

‘She won’t say nuffink.’

‘Does she know where Schreuder is being taken?’

‘She might guess. But she wouldn’t talk.’ He got up and staggered as the table on which he had leaned his weight tilted.

I pushed him back again into his seat. ‘Sit down,’ I said. ‘There are still one or two things I want to ask you. What happened this morning — yesterday morning, rather? You heard the catcher go by in the mist. You probably saw it. Then you heard shouts and a few minutes later a man was swimming towards your boats. Were you down below then?’

‘No. I’d come fer a breaver an’ a pipe. I’d still got me things on. I was just takin’ a little rest.’

‘And what happened? You pulled him on board. But what made you up anchor and clear out so quickly? You must have known the catcher would be searching for the man.’

‘Well, we knew all aba’t ‘im, see. So as soon as ‘e says-’ And then he stopped.

‘How do you mean, you knew all about him?’ I asked.

‘Ere you’ll be gettin’ me sayin’ things.’ He got to his feet again. ‘Lumme, give a bloke a chance, can’t yer? Oi’m fagged a’t an’ that’s the truth.’

I said, ‘Sit down.’

‘But look ‘ere, guvner — just let me-’

‘Shut up,’ I said. ‘And listen to me. I want to know where this man Schreuder is. Miss Somers wants to know because she was a friend of Bernt Olsen, otherwise Farnell. She wants to know what happened up there on the Jostedal glacier. And I want to know — for other reasons. What’s more, Sunde, I intend to find out.’

‘Well, yer won’t find out from me,’ he answered sullenly.

‘Look,’ I said angrily, ‘who got you away from Lovaas, eh?’

‘You did,’ he responded. ‘Oi already said ‘ow grateful-’

‘I don’t want your thanks,’ I interrupted him. ‘I want information. Can’t you see we’re your friends? We’re not going to hurt Schreuder. We just want to know what happened, that’s all.’

Curtis poked his head round the galley door and said, ‘Soup up.’

‘Okay,’ I said. ‘Let’s have it. Maybe it’ll help him to talk.’

But it didn’t. For two solid hours I sat there like an intelligence officer examining an enemy prisoner. I tried every approach I knew short of hitting him — and I almost did that once I got so exasperated. But it had no effect. Every time I came up against a brick wall of — ‘You ask my partner.’

At last I said, ‘Well, where is your partner?’

He gave a wan smile. ‘If I tol’ yer that, yer’d know where the other fellow was nan, wouldn’t yer?’

‘Then what’s the use of telling me to ask your partner?’ I demanded irritably.

‘Tell yer what Oi’ll do,’ he said suddenly. ‘Next place we touch at, you put me ashore an’ Oi’ll telephone a message ter Peer ter meet you some place. Where you makin’ fer?’