Читать книгу The German Invasion of Norway - Geirr H. Haarr - Страница 10

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Wheels Within Wheels

Operation Weserübung

THERE WERE NO GERMAN plans whatsoever for an attack on Scandinavia in September 1939. The rationale for Hitler to unleash his dogs of war on Norway and Denmark seven months later developed during the winter through a series of intertwined incidents and processes involving the German fear of being outflanked, Norwegian neutrality policy, and Allied aspirations to sever German iron-ore supplies and to establish an alternative front in Scandinavia.

The first of several catalysts for the development was a visit to Berlin by the Norwegian National Socialist leader Vidkun Quisling in December 1939. He arrived on the 10th to keep abreast of political issues and to try to activate German support for his minority party. Instead, he was willingly entangled in an impromptu plan – the consequences of which were out of all proportion – staged by Quisling’s man in Germany, Albert Hagelin.¹ The morning after his arrival, Quisling was taken by Hagelin to see Reichsleiter Alfred Rosenberg, head of the Nazi Party’s internal ‘Foreign Policy Office and Propaganda Section’.² The two men, who had met before, discussed the situation in Norway, which Quisling held had become very anti-German after the alliance with Russia and that country’s attack on Finland.

Hagelin was also friendly with Fregattenkapitän Erich Schulte-Mönting, the navy Chief of Staff, and in the afternoon Quisling was brought to the naval headquarters at Tirpizufer. Here, Schulte-Mönting introduced the Norwegians to Grossadmiral Erich Raeder, the C-in-C of the German Navy. Quisling presented himself (correctly) as an ex-major who had served in the Norwegian General Staff and as a former defence minister. Raeder was impressed and gave him his attention, all the more so because Hagelin (falsely) managed to give the impression that Quisling was the leader of a significant political party with strong military and ministerial connections. Raeder had for some time argued in favour of an expansion of the Kriegsmarine’s operating base into Scandinavia and saw an opportunity for support.³ At the Führer conference on 12 December, the admiral recounted his conversation with the Norwegian, referring to Quisling as ‘well informed and giving a trustworthy impression’. He also took the opportunity to recount the threat that a British landing in Norway – which Quisling held to be very likely – would create for the iron-ore traffic and the Kriegsmarine’s ability to maintain an effective merchant war against England. Cautioning that the Norwegian might be playing a political game of his own, he nevertheless recommended that Hitler meet him and make up his own mind. Raeder suggested that if the Führer was left with a positive impression, the High Command of the armed forces (Oberkommando der Wehrmacht – OKW) should be allowed to work out provisional plans for an occupation of Norway, peacefully or with force. Hitler consulted with Rosenberg, who recommended Quisling highly, and invited the Norwegian to the Reichskanzlei on 13 December.⁴

Admiral Erich Raeder (right) at the launch of the cruiser Admiral Hipper in February 1937. (Author’s collection)

Quisling came accompanied by Hagelin and Rosenberg’s subordinate, Amtsleiter Hans-Wilhelm Scheidt, head of the Nordic Office.⁵ Scheidt later wrote that Hitler listened ‘quietly and attentively’ to Quisling, who spoke thoughtfully in halting German.⁶ The general Norwegian attitude had been firmly pro-British for a long time, Quisling said, and in his opinion it was ‘obvious that England did not intend to respect Norwegian neutrality’. The president of the Parliament, Stortingspresident Carl Hambro, was of Jewish descent and Quisling asserted he had close connections to the British secretary of state, Leslie Hore-Belisha, also Jewish.⁷ These two, he claimed, conspired to bring Norway into the war on the Allied side and to secure British bases in Norway. Indeed, there was evidence that the Norwegian government had already secretly agreed to Allied occupation of parts of southern Norway, from which Germany’s northern flank could be threatened. Concluding, Quisling asserted that his party, the Nasjonal Samling (NS), had a large and growing group of followers, many of whom were in key positions in the civil administration and the armed forces. With the support of these people, he would be prepared to intervene through a coup to avert ‘Hambro’s British plans’ and, having seized power, to ‘invite German troops to take possession of key positions along the coast’.⁸

Hitler then delivered a twenty-minute monologue underlining that Germany had no plans for an intervention in Norway while its neutrality was properly enforced. He had always been a friend of England, he held, and was bitter about the declaration of war over Poland. He now hoped to force England to her knees through a blockade rather than full-scale war. A British occupation of Norway would be totally unacceptable and, according to Scheidt, Hitler made it clear that ‘Any sign of English intervention in Norway would be met with appropriate means.’ It would be preferable to use the troops elsewhere, but ‘Should the danger of a British violation of Norwegian neutrality ever become acute . . ., he would land in Norway with six, eight, twelve divisions, and even more if necessary.’ Quisling wrote that ‘Upon mentioning the eventuality of a violation of [Norwegian] neutrality, Hitler worked himself into a frenzy.’

When Quisling had left, Generalmajor Alfred Jodl, chief of the operations office at OKW, was instructed to start a low-key investigation ‘with the smallest of staffs’ into how Norway could be occupied ‘should it become necessary’. Several meetings were held over the next few days regarding Norway. Quisling, Hagelin and Scheidt participated in some and apparently received repeated promise of support. Unprecedentedly, Quisling was invited back to the Reichskanzlei on the 18th. This time, Hitler was virtually the only one to speak. He restated his absolute preference for a neutral Norway, but stressed that unless the neutrality was strictly enforced, he would be required to take appropriate measures, securing German interests. British landings in Norway were totally unacceptable and would have to be pre-empted. Finally, Hitler underlined the confidentiality of their meetings but indicated that Quisling would be consulted should a pre-emptive intervention become necessary. There was no mention of any plans for a coup.⁹

Quisling’s skewed description of the situation in Norway was at best a product of his imagination, but his assessment of the alleged political situation in Norway made an impression in the Reichskanzlei. Hitler was already frustrated by the growing anti-German sentiment in Scandinavia, and the Norwegian’s account of a Jewish-influenced Anglo-Norwegian alliance conspiring for offensive operations made sense to him; it was far from reality, but it had the right ingredients. Used by internal German forces protecting their own interests, Quisling had authenticated previous warnings of Allied intentions in Scandinavia and events were about to take a new direction.¹⁰

Neither the German Embassy in Oslo nor the Foreign Office in Berlin had been involved in Quisling’s visit to Germany and when Foreign Minister Joachim von Ribbentrop learned that Quisling had met with Hitler he became rather disturbed. The German minister in Oslo, Curt Bräuer, confirmed that Quisling had exaggerated his leverage in Norway and vastly overstated the number of his followers and their political and military influence. Bräuer affirmed that Quisling’s sympathies were national-socialistic and pro-German enough, but his politics could not be taken seriously. In Bräuer’s opinion, openly siding with Quisling and his party would at best be a waste of resources and could very well harm German interests. ‘Nasjonal Samling has no influence in this country and probably never will,’ he concluded, adding that there were no indications that Quisling had support among Norwegian officers. As far as could be judged by the embassy, the officers were loyal to the government, which was really making an effort to enforce the country’s neutrality. The OKW frowned on the prospect of an operation that would depend on support from Norwegian confidants – not to mention the difficulties of maintaining security.¹¹ ‘Quisling has no one behind him,’ army Chief of Staff Generaloberst Halder remarked laconically in his diary. Hitler listened for once and it was decided that even if Scheidt went to Oslo, he should keep the Norwegian ‘Führer’ at arm’s length and, above all, not involve him in any planning.¹²

Hence, Quisling would have no further involvement in the ensuing preparations for the invasion of Norway, although he took all he had been promised at face value and went home, trusting plans were being developed in Germany that would eventually put him in power in Norway. It is doubtful if Quisling realised he had been sidelined, and that neither he nor his coup figured in the German plans. He stood alone in his treachery and nobody except Hagelin was fully involved.¹³

After attending a Führer conference on 1 January 1940, Halder wrote in his diary: ‘It is in our interest that Norway remains neutral. We must be prepared to change our view on this, however, should England threaten Norway’s neutrality. The Führer has instructed Jodl to have a report made on the issue.’¹⁴ The plan for an intervention in Scandinavia was but a contingency at this stage, only to be activated against a clear British threat. As no such threat was substantiated, focus remained in the West, but wheels had been set in motion.

The initial sketch of the plan, ‘Studie Nord’, was completed by OKW during the second week of January. The Luftwaffe and army staffs were preoccupied with the attack on France and showed little interest when asked to comment. Raeder, on the other hand, ordered the Naval High Command (Seekriegsleitung – SKL), to assess Studie Nord properly and prepare constructive feedback. This they did, concluding that continued Norwegian neutrality was to the advantage of Germany and a British presence could not be tolerated. Still, pre-emptive plans would have to be developed – just in case. On 27 January, Hitler instructed the OKW to set up a special staff – Sonderstab Weserübung – to develop plans for such an operation. Kapitän zur See Theodor Krancke was given the task of leading the work, which commenced on 5 February, based largely on an updated version of SKL’s comments and feedback to Studie Nord.¹⁵ Knowledge of Weserübung was to be restricted and the ‘issue of Norway should not leave the hands of the OKW’. Two basic principles emerged when the Sonderstab set down to work. First, an occupation of bases in southern Norway alone was pointless and would be difficult to uphold; Trondheim and Narvik would have to be occupied, as well as the sea lanes along the coast, to secure the transport of iron ore. Secondly, occupation of at least parts of Denmark would be necessary in order to secure sustainable connections to Norway across the Skagerrak and to prevent Allied access to the Baltic. Air bases in northern Jylland would also facilitate anti-shipping operations and reconnaissance in the North Sea.¹⁶

Shortly before midnight on 16 February 1940, Captain Philip Vian, on Churchill’s orders, took the British destroyer Cossack into Norwegian territorial waters at Jøssingfjord, south of Stavanger. In spite of protests from Norwegian naval vessels, he attacked and boarded the German tanker Altmark. During the ensuing skirmish, 299 British sailors captured in the South Atlantic by the raider Admiral Graf Spee were liberated from Altmark while eight German sailors were killed. This was at the height of the ‘phoney war’ and the incident created headlines all over the world. General Jodl wrote in his diary that Hitler was furious about the lack of opposition from Germans and Norwegians alike: ‘No opposition, no British losses!’ The Royal Navy had humiliated Germany and the Norwegians had been unable – or unwilling – to defend their neutrality against the British intruders. Rosenberg wrote: ‘Downright stupid of Churchill. This confirms Quisling was right. I saw the Führer today and . . . there is nothing left of his determination to preserve Nordic neutrality.’

Commissioned in 1938, the 10,698-GRT Altmark belonged to a class of fleet auxiliaries, an integral part of the Kriegsmarine’s merchant warfare. On her way home from the South Atlantic, where she had supported the Graf Spee, she was driven into Jøssingfjord south of Stavanger by British destroyers in the afternoon of 16 February 1940. During the night, Captain(D) Philip Vian of the 4th Destroyer Flotilla took Cossack into the fjord in spite of Norwegian protests and after a short gunfight liberated 299 British sailors, captured by Graf Spee. Eight German sailors were killed. (Author’s collection)

The day after the boarding of Altmark, Admiral Raeder was told by an angry Hitler that as Norway ‘was no longer able to maintain its neutrality’, the planning of Operation Weserübung was to be intensified immediately. The time had come to take control of events rather than just prepare for an eventuality. Raeder, uncomfortable with the sudden hurry, advised caution. In another meeting with Hitler a few days later, he argued that maintaining Norwegian neutrality was probably the best way to protect the vital ore transport along the Norwegian Leads. A German intervention would inevitably result in the traffic being threatened by the Royal Navy, and protecting the 1,400-mile coastline would be very difficult, requiring U-boats, aircraft and surface vessels not readily available. On the other hand, a British occupation of Norway would be totally unacceptable, all the more so as Allied forces in Norway, in Raeder’s opinion, would put pressure on Sweden and threaten the main ore traffic through the Baltic. Hitler agreed: Norway must not fall into British hands. Germany would have to act, whatever the cost. A sense of urgency pulsed through the OKW. ‘The Führer is pushing the preparations for Operation Weserübung. Ships must be fitted out, troops must be ready,’ Jodl noted in his diary.¹⁷

The 55-year-old General der Infanterie Nicolaus von Falkenhorst (right) (1885–1968), C-in-C of XXI Army Corps, was chosen to lead Operation Weserübung. (Author’s collection)

Jodl suggested giving responsibility for the planning to one of the corps commanders with experience from Poland and an established staff. The Führer agreed, and the 55-year-old General der Infanterie Nicolaus von Falkenhorst, C-in-C of XXI Army Corps, was called to Berlin at midday on 21 February. Von Falkenhorst had been a staff officer during the brief German intervention on the ‘white’ side in Finland in 1918 and was one of the very few German generals with some experience in overseas operations. Hitler told the general that a similar expedition was being considered as a pre-emptive strike to forestall British intervention in Norway to secure the supply of iron ore and other produce from Scandinavia. British forces in Norway would change the whole strategic situation, and the northern flank had to be secured prior to opening the campaign in the West. In addition, the German Navy needed freedom to operate in the North Sea and unhindered access to the Atlantic. Britain was already preparing landings in Norway, Hitler said, and had, according to reliable sources, reached an agreement with the Norwegian government to this effect. The recent Altmark episode demonstrated this beyond all doubt.

Stressing the need for absolute secrecy, Hitler invited von Falkenhorst to leave for a while, to think through how he would occupy Norway, and to come back in the afternoon. Somewhat shaken, von Falkenhorst went into a bookshop, bought a Bädeker tourist guide to Norway and sat down to find out how to conquer the country he had barely been aware of a few hours earlier. Returning at 5pm with some ideas and sketches, von Falkenhorst realised that his whole career was at stake. His ideas were to Hitler’s liking, though, and the Führer decided he was the right man for the job. Von Falkenhorst was ordered to gather members of his staff and to start preparations immediately. Jodl noted in his diary that von Falkenhorst ‘accepted with enthusiasm’.¹⁸

Generaloberst Walter von Brauchitsch, C-in-C of the German Army was less enthusiastic. He called von Falkenhorst to his office and told him in no uncertain language that he disapproved of Hitler’s decision and saw the whole operation as ‘unnecessary’. Besides, he had not been consulted and the Führer was ‘doing all of this only with the advice of Raeder’. It probably did not help von Brauchitsch’s opinion of the operation that von Falkenhorst was to report directly to the OKW and not to him – an unprecedented break with procedure. Generaloberst Halder, the army Chief of Staff, also expressed discontent with the operation and the fact that army command was largely kept out of the planning.¹⁹

Meanwhile, Krancke’s group had produced a workable base-plan for the invasion. Spending a day reading this and other material available from Norway, von Falkenhorst and his staff took up work in some discreet back-offices of the OKW building in Berlin on Monday 26 February. Initially, only some fifteen officers were directly involved. To maintain secrecy there were no secretaries, which meant work from seven in the morning until late at night, seven days a week. Kapitän Krancke remained a member of the group, representing the Kriegsmarine. Oberst Robert Knauss from the Luftwaffe and Major Strecker from Abwehr handled liaison with their respective services and Oberst Walter Warlimont, deputy chief of the Operations Office, would secure a close connection to the OKW – although he did not become involved in the details of the planning. Hitler, on the other hand, kept a keen interest in the operation and influenced the planning on several occasions.²⁰

The knowledge of Norwegian infrastructure, administration and armed forces was at best meagre and outdated. An invasion had been so far off the table that methodical intelligence had hardly been gathered. Maps were scarce and it was often necessary to rely on travel guides and tourist brochures. The embassy in Oslo had sent a fair amount of information regarding military installations, ports and harbours over the past years, but it was found to be unsystematic with limited verification. An intense programme of intelligence gathering was initiated under Major Pruck of the OKW, partly involving the embassy. In addition, a discreet search was initiated for merchant sailors and business people who had been to Norway as well as those who had been there as part of the children’s aid programmes after WWI. On the day of the invasion, the German commanders would have a surprising amount of detailed information available to them, a credit to the efforts of the German intelligence. There were significant gaps, though, and in many cases the information was available centrally, but had not reached the operational end in time.

Concerning the Norwegian Army, von Falkenhorst’s intelligence officer, Hauptmann Egelhaaf, could provide only a sketchy picture. Public sources indicated the existence of six army divisions, but details of mobilisation and deployment in case of an emergency were not available. Egelhaaf reckoned that centralised depots, inexperienced officers and an inadequate number of NCOs would slow the mobilisation process down and concluded that ‘The Norwegian Army cannot offer sustained opposition against an attack from the major powers.’ Oberst Erich Buschenhagen, Chief of Staff for XXI Corps, agreed, provided the attack came as a surprise, applying ‘all means at hand’. The Norwegian Navy and Air Force were for all practical purposes disregarded at this stage, as were the coastal forts.²¹

In late February, less than two weeks after the Altmark episode, German naval attaché Korvettenkapitän Richard Schreiber made a visit to the Norwegian Admiral Staff, accompanied by his colleague, air attaché Hauptmann Eberhart Spiller. The Germans asked to meet the head of Naval Intelligence, Kaptein Erik Steen, and told him that they had secure information from Berlin regarding an imminent British action against Norway. This would certainly draw Norway into the war, and the Norwegians would have to make a choice in due course on which side they would join. The warning was clear and would not have been made without instructions from Berlin. Steen made a report of the meeting to the Admiral Staff and commanding admiral. The report was forwarded to the Norwegian Foreign Office, but apparently not to the commanding general or the Ministry of Defence.

On 4 March, Schreiber was back at the Admiral Staff again. This time he informed Steen that he had been called to Berlin to give an update on the general situation in Norway. In particular, he had been asked to comment on whether the country would oppose British forces occupying parts of the Norwegian coast and now asked for Steen’s advice on what to say. A somewhat perplexed Steen referred to the prime minister’s speech in January, where he clearly said that Norway would defend itself as best it could against any intruder.

Schreiber and Spiller went to Berlin a few days later. In separate meetings, they were asked to give their view of the general situation in Norway, the attitudes of the military and civilian administration and in particular their views on what opposition the Norwegians would put up against an invasion, German or Allied. They were both of the opinion that resistance against Allied intruders would be symbolic at best, as the Altmark episode had demonstrated. How a German invader would be met was more uncertain, but also in this case they apparently both assumed that opposition would be limited. It is unlikely that Spiller and Schreiber were given the full details of Operation Weserübung, but both returned to Norway with instructions to report as much as they could find on the Norwegian armed forces, airfields and harbours. Neither could travel freely in Norway, and the information they provided was mostly taken from public sources and largely limited to the Oslo area, adding little to the information from the professional intelligence officers.²²

In the afternoon of 29 February, von Falkenhorst and his staff met with Hitler and presented their first sketch of Operation Weserübung. The Führer liked what he heard and, on head of OKW, Generalmajor Wilhelm Keitel’s recommendation, approved the overall concept. He gave a few instructions and asked to be updated every other day. Jodl proposed to have Weserübung developed independently from Operation Gelb, the campaign in the West, and this was accepted even if the two operations needed to be synchronised; Gelb tentatively starting three days after Weserübung.

Hitler signed the formal directive for Weserübung on 1 March. This was the first official acknowledgement of the operation to the services from the OKW. The rationale for the operation was listed as threefold: to pre-empt British intervention in Scandinavia and the Baltic, to secure the iron-ore supply from Sweden and to extend the operational basis for the navy and air force against Britain. The available forces were limited and if at all possible, the operation should be carried out as a ‘peaceful occupation’ under the pretext of giving ‘armed support to Nordic neutrality’. Maximum surprise and swiftness would have to compensate for low numerical strength, and secrecy was vital. Opposition could not be tolerated and should be met ‘with all necessary force’. There was no mention at all of Quisling and his NS Party.

The Army High Command objected immediately against diverting forces to what they considered a secondary operation. Presumably there was also some resentment for being kept out of the planning and the troops having been assigned without their consulation. Generaloberst Halder held that Hitler had not ‘exchanged a single word with the Commander-in-Chief of the Army on the subject of Norway’. Protests were futile, and the next day Jodl noted laconically in his diary: ‘The Army agrees [to Operation Weserübung].’²³

Weserübung Süd, the invasion of Denmark, would primarily secure Copenhagen and the airfield at Aalborg in northern Jylland, the latter to be captured by paratroopers followed by an airlifted battalion. Mechanised units would cross the border in the south and push north on the Jylland peninsular, while groups of smaller warships and requisitioned civilian vessels would land troops on the west coast and the islands. Command in Denmark was given to XXXI Corps under General der Flieger Leonard Kaupisch; subordinated to von Falkenhorst during the invasion phase.

In Norway, Weserübung Nord would see regimental-strength landings from warships at Narvik, Trondheim, Bergen and Kristiansand, while the wireless stations at Egersund and Arendal were assigned one company each. The equivalent of two regiments would head for Oslo, plus the support functions. Parts of the Oslo force would secure the naval base at Horten en route. Fornebu airport outside Oslo and Sola airport outside Stavanger were to be captured in airlift operations spearheaded by paratroopers. By securing the key coastal cities and ports between Oslo and Trondheim, a thin ring would be closed around southern Norway, within which most of the country’s population, administration and armed forces could be controlled, and barracks and depots secured to prevent mobilisation and subsequent build-up of resistance.

Officers would be instructed to try a soft approach first, in particular towards the civilians; the soldiers should behave as friends and protectors, not aggressors. Bombers and long-distance fighters would be over the cities, ports and military installations to enforce the order, but without bombing or strafing unless deemed necessary by those on the ground. Von Falkenhorst later held that he hoped a ‘peaceful occupation’ could be achieved through a non-aggressive but ‘firm, soldierly behaviour’, but feared the Norwegians would resist.²⁴ It would have to be left to the man in charge of each group to decide which actions to take, when to bluff and when to open fire. Tasks would inevitably be solved differently, with different outcomes.

The bridgeheads in the west would have supply lines at the mercy of the Royal Navy. Hence, there would be no means of reinforcement other than by air until overland contact had been established. It would be necessary to bring sufficient troops and supplies in the initial landing phase to secure control and to initiate break-out operations towards the main force, which would move out from the Oslo region. Narvik would remain isolated until superiority in the south had been secured. On the positive side, the Allies would have few places left to land, should they attempt to intervene.²⁵

The warships could not carry sufficient supplies to sustain the invasion forces and a carefully timed supply operation was set up whereby a handful of tankers and transport vessels would arrive at the invasion ports after the warships.²⁶ There was grave concern in the SKL over the safety of these ships, as they would have to leave Germany several days ahead of the naval ships and travel through Norwegian waters with no protection other than camouflage. Additionally, as the ports in western Germany could not accommodate the entire invasion and support fleet, some ships would have to pass through the Danish Belts, where they would undoubtedly be observed.²⁷

After some debate between the OKW and the army, six divisions were eventually assigned to occupy Norway: 3rd Mountain Division and 69th, 163rd, 181st, 196th and 214th Infantry Divisions (ID). None of the units had combat experience, except for the 3rd Mountain Division, which had been partly used in Poland, and officers and NCOs who had transferred from other units. The 170th and 198th ID were assigned to Denmark, together with the 11th (motorised) Rifle Brigade. All units had a lower than usual complement of artillery and motor vehicles, but this was considered acceptable for operations in Scandinavia.

Around 8,850 men would be on board the warships heading for Norway in the first attack wave, while the airborne contingent would be some 3,500 men. The transport ships would land an additional 3,900 men, 742 horses, 942 vehicles and four tanks on the invasion day. Altogether there would be less than sixteen thousand men in the first wave, roughly the size of a regular German division. Not much to seize a whole country, but reinforcements of men and matériel would follow by air and sea as fast as possible. Most of these would go to Oslo in the ships of the sea transport echelons. The route east of Denmark to the Oslofjord would be the shortest and furthest away from the Royal Navy and the RAF. Weather was also less hazardous here than in the North Sea. Within three days, eight thousand troops were to be transported by air and sea, and an additional 16,700 during the subsequent week. In all a hundred thousand men would be brought to Norway in a continuous shuttle.

The British Navy was seen as the main threat to the operation, not only at sea but also in terms of counter-attacks. The guns of the Norwegian coastal fortifications were needed for defence against such an attack, and naval gunners would be onboard the ships of the first wave to man them as soon as possible. Raeder knew there was reason to fear the guns of the coastal forts during the invasion even if there was a good chance they might not be able to open fire in time unless they were pre-warned. He believed that few Norwegian officers would open fire on British ships; in the initial operation order, signed on 6 March, the warships were instructed to fly British flags until just before disembarkation commenced. All challenges from patrol vessels or coastguard stations should be answered in English. The exception was Narvik, where the local commander, Oberst Sundlo, was known to be German-friendly and was expected to react positively to German flags. According to international conventions, the use of false flag is permitted as a ruse of war until fire is opened, when own flag shall be flying. The order nevertheless created massive protests from some of the commanders, among them Oberst Buschenhagen and Generalmajor Tittel of the 69th ID. The order was eventually recalled by radio in the afternoon of 8 March and the German ships did not use British flags when entering Norwegian ports.²⁸

Virtually the entire Kriegsmarine would be directly involved and all other naval operations were suspended, including U-boat sorties and preparations for the offensive in the West. Not everybody appreciated this and on 28 March, General Jodl noted in his diary that ‘Some naval officers are lukewarm concerning Weserübung and need a stimulus . . . Falkenhorst’s three chiefs of staff are having thoughts that are not their business. Krancke sees more drawbacks than advantages,’ without elaborating. Von Falkenhorst commented later that Krancke ‘at times did not agree with the plans of the Führer, criticising his decisions with sharp words.’²⁹

Once the invasion had started, the Royal Navy would be alerted, whatever the security, and the SKL wished for the warships to return as soon as possible to try to avoid interception. The army argued that they would need the guns of the warships for support in case of opposition or Allied countermeasures and demanded that the navy stayed. Hitler agreed with the army and insisted that destroyers should be left behind in Narvik and a cruiser in Trondheim. Raeder held it was more important to have the ships available at sea rather then locked up in the fjords, and promises from Göring that the Luftwaffe would secure their stay inshore were dismissed as uncertain and weather-dependent. On 29 March Raeder discussed the issue with Hitler in private. He must have had some good arguments, as the Führer accepted that all destroyers could return from Narvik. At Trondheim he was firm: some destroyers should remain. A couple of days later, the SKL obliged, concluding that ‘The Kriegsmarine has a commitment to protect the troops also after disembarkation and it may become necessary to leave some ships behind . . . until the army can no longer be hindered by Norwegian naval forces from fulfilling their task.’

After the invasion, the iron-ore traffic from Narvik would no longer be protected by Norwegian neutrality and a sustainable defence of the Norwegian coast would require a significant reorganisation of the Kriegsmarine’s resources. The larger ships would be needed elsewhere and available forces would be limited to smaller vessels and U-boats. As many of the Norwegian ships as possible would have to be captured intact and pressed into service, however obsolete. It was to be expected that transit of ore through Narvik would cease until the Norwegian sea lanes had been secured by minefields, coastal batteries and air patrols. This would take time, perhaps several months. To handle matters after the invasion, Admiral Hermann Boehm was designated ‘commanding admiral Norway’: Raeder’s direct representative, with headquarters in Oslo. Reporting to him, would be ‘admiral south coast’ in Kristiansand, Konteradmiral Otto Schenk, and ‘admiral west coast’ in Bergen, Vizeadmiral Otto von Schrader; the port commanders in Trondheim, Narvik and Stavanger reporting to the latter. These officers and their staffs were to become involved in the final stages of the planning and would be onboard the invasion vessels to take charge from day one.³⁰

Göring and his Chief of Staff, General Jeschonneck, were annoyed over the downgrading of the Luftwaffe in Operation Weserübung, claiming they had been kept in the dark.³¹ Never one for co-operation or sharing of influence, Göring feared that the subordination of Luftwaffe units to an overall operational command would threaten his authority. Antiaircraft (A/A) units, airfield engineers, staff and maintenance personnel would be flown into Norway and Denmark as soon as the airfields were secured and there was no way the Luftwaffe could accept losing control over these, he argued. Hitler eventually gave in and on 4 March accepted the placing of all aircraft and personnel under the operational control of the X Fliegerkorps, which remained under Luftwaffe command.

Commander of X Fliegerkorps, the 48-year-old Generalleutnant Hans Ferdinand Geisler, and his Chief of Staff, Major Martin Harlinghausen, were called to Berlin on 5 March and, in a meeting with Göring and Jeschonneck, informed of their involvement in Weserübung. In addition to transport of troops and equipment, X Fliegerkorps was to provide direct support for the landings as well as reconnaissance and offensive capacity against intervening Allied naval forces. Geisler was instructed to co-operate with von Falkenhorst and the Kriegsmarine, but he should not report to any of them. To meet its tasks, the X Fliegerkorps would be temporarily strengthened with additional bomber, long-distance fighter and reconnaissance units, supplementing the two permanent bomber wings, KG 26 and KG 30, so far mainly tasked with anti-shipping operations in the North Sea.³² During March, 500 Junkers Ju52/3m aircraft were gathered for the sole purpose of Operation Weserübung. Oberst Carl-August von Gablenz, a former Lufthansa manager and transport specialist was appointed to oversee the establishment and tactical operation of the transport units. The aircraft and pilots were assembled at airfields in the north while Geisler and his staff moved into Hotel Esplanade in Hamburg. The top floor of the six-storey building was discreetly emptied of all guests, but otherwise the hotel was run as usual to avoid drawing any attention to the arrangement. Maps, communication equipment and files were brought in and Geisler, Harlinghausen, von Gablenz and their staffs settled down to plan the huge task.³³

The greatest weakness of Operation Weserübung, besides the lack of enforced co-operation between the services, was the absence of contingencies. There was no indepth assessment of the accuracy of the assumption of Norwegian acceptance of the invasion. Neither was there any fallback if things did not evolve as planned – other than application of brute force. The political and administrative aspects of the invasion and subsequent occupation were nowhere near as well considered as the military, largely because few outside the OKW and the Weserübung staff had knowledge of the operation being planned at all.³⁴ Apart from the initial XXI Corps staff, the OKW and parts of the SKL, knowledge of Operation Weserübung was kept on a strictly need-to-know basis. Division commanders, staff officers and naval and air group commanders were informed individually at the latest possible moment – and with details only of the part of the operation they were to be involved in.³⁵ This would benefit security but was detrimental to any joint doctrine or training prior to the operation.

A draft note on the administration of the occupied areas was issued by Oberst Warlimont in late February and appears to have been accepted without much discussion. A key element in the draft was to secure military control of Norway with minimal disturbance of the existing administration. Hitler believed King Haakon could be persuaded to legalise the occupation through a convincing show of force and it was considered particularly important that he remained in Oslo. Government, civil administration and police should continue as unaffected as possible, provided there was collaboration. The radio would be taken over by German personnel, while press loyal to the new regime could continue as before; the people should be won over through propaganda. Political parties and the Parliament – the Storting – would be ignored and eliminated as soon as possible. If the government would not co-operate, they would be removed and replaced with ministers open to accept the new situation. The same would apply to local authorities outside Oslo.

All communication with the Norwegian government should be through Curt Bräuer, the German minister in Oslo. Von Falkenhorst and his men should focus on the military tasks of the occupation and suppress any activity directed against Germany. When Raeder queried the political development in Norway following the occupation, von Falkenhorst and Keitel reassured him that the Führer would handle this and they, as soldiers, need not worry. Von Falkenhorst assured Raeder it would be feasible to collaborate with Foreign Minister Koht, a statement Raeder later referred to as ‘politically naive’.³⁶

Neutrality Watch

The news of the German attack on Poland was received with anxious apprehension in Norway. The empathy with Poland and anger with Germany was virtually unanimous, but there was also a general feeling that this was not Norway’s war. During the afternoon of 1 September, the Norwegian government issued a declaration of neutrality. When Britain and France declared war on Germany two days later, the neutrality was extended to cover this conflict as well. An immediate freeze of all prices was decided while petrol, coal and some imported provisions were rationed. The government advised that people followed a careful lifestyle and asserted there would be no shortage of basic goods as long as nobody started hoarding. Private use of cars, motorcycles and boats was limited for a while, and the demand for horses and bicycles rose sharply. During September the situation stabilised and the war seemed far away, even if the newspapers often carried stories of death and dramatic rescues at sea. Between September 1939 and April 1940, fifty-five Norwegian merchant ships were sunk outside Norwegian territory, almost exclusively the result of German activities; 393 Norwegian sailors perished in these actions.

There was broad political agreement to limit the mobilisation of the Norwegian defences. The cost had been astronomical during 1914–18 and it was felt it would be better to keep a reasonable coastal defence and only mobilise fully if a crisis developed. Last time, no real threat to Norwegian territory had developed and few believed it would be different now. Consequently, the navy was given the first-line task of maintaining a Neutrality Watch, focusing on escort and patrol duties. The neutrality was to be vigilant but passive; prepared to handle ‘occasional violations’. Force should be used with discretion except in the case of alien warships seeking to enter a restricted area or krigshavn, where all means should be applied after due warning.³⁷ In support, the air forces of the army and navy were mobilised whereas only a limited part of the coastal artillery was set up.³⁸

The Royal Norwegian Navy (RNN) of 1939 was by no standards an instrument of deterrence. Originally a symbol of the Norwegian quest for independence at the beginning of the twentieth century, general disarmament and political development had reduced the once-imposing naval force almost to insignificance, with a severe lack of qualified officers and NCOs. Nevertheless, Commanding Admiral Henry Diesen on 28 August 1939, with the consent of the government, issued orders to prepare for recommissioning the ships of the naval reserve.³⁹ Staff officers were drafted and coastguard stations, naval air bases and communication centres were manned. By the end of September, all ships fit for commissioning were in service, including two panserships and nine submarines; the only vessels that could be considered anything like a tactical reserve. The ships had been well looked after during storage and most were found to be in acceptable condition.

The pansership Eidsvold passing Stavanger in the autumn of 1939 on her way to northern Norway. Norge and Eidsvold were armoured cruisers or coast defence ships of some 4,200-ton displacement. They were elegant, well-designed vessels with good sea-keeping abilities – and obsolete in every conceivable manner. (Ingrid Willoch)

By 8 April 1940, 121 vessels were in commission by the RNN, of which fifty-three were chartered auxiliaries and nine unarmed support vessels.⁴⁰ Of the fifty-nine naval ships, nineteen had been launched after WWI, while seventeen were of pre-1900 vintage. Some 5,200 naval officers and men were in service onboard or onshore. Of these, 3,565 were sailors and 237 drafted officers, the rest professional officers and NCOs from the pre-war navy. The latter was a highly qualified cadre with much experience at sea; there were just not enough of them. Some NCOs were given temporary rank after brief officer courses and sent to serve on the auxiliaries, thus leaving holes in the ranks and disrupting well-exercised routines and relationships onboard the more modern ships.

During the 1933 reorganisation of the armed forces, the Naval Defence Force (Sjøforsvaret) was established, consisting of the Navy (Marinen), the Coastal Artillery (Kystartilleriet), the Naval Air Arm (Marinens Flyvevåben) and the Coastguard (Kystvakten). The coast was subdivided into three sea defence districts (SDD), in turn sub-divided into sea defence sectors (SDS). Each district was led by a sea defence commander based in Horten, Bergen or Tromsø respectively, reporting to the commanding admiral. The commanders of the coastal forts were subordinate to the relevant sea defence commander, as were the aircraft of the Naval Air Arm. Only the staff functions of commanding admiral and the supreme sea defence command were left in Oslo. The navy had advocated this organisation for a long time as it was considered critical to have an efficient co-ordination between the forts and the ships at sea. The practical side of the co-ordination was never tested, though, leading to a serious neglect of the landside defence of the forts.

The British Legation in Oslo summed up the situation of the RNN in the annual report on Norway in 1936: ‘Promotion is extremely slow; material is largely out of date, money is very scarce.’⁴¹ It was undoubtedly correct at the time, but progress had been made since, and ten new ships were launched between 1936 and 1939.

The coastal forts were among the most potent weapons of the Norwegian defences – if adequately manned. When designed in the 1890s, the coastal artillery was state of the art with concentrated firepower through strategically placed guns, larger than those on most ships, supplemented by lighter guns, mines and torpedoes. By 1940 they were obsolete, in spite of having been well maintained. Accuracy was fair if a reasonably trained crew handled the guns as fire control and range-finding systems had been modernised, but rate of fire was slow and upgraded ammunition in limited supply.

From 1900 to 1940, the speed of the naval ships had almost doubled and an intruder, originally expected to be in the firing zone for fifteen to twenty minutes, would be through in five to ten minutes. With reloading taking up to three minutes for the heavy guns, it would require optimum conditions for more than a few shots to be fired – unless mines or torpedoes could slow down the intruder. Early warning was essential and the commanders had to be determined to open fire at first sight. Plans for moving some of the batteries to a more forward position and to establish additional minefields existed, but had not been initiated.⁴²

Commanding Admiral Diesen considered the navy more important than the coastal artillery for the Neutrality Watch and the latter was given low priority during the mobilisation. Stationary guns were of little use for escort purposes, and since both parties appeared to respect Norwegian neutrality, aggressive intrusions in force were not anticipated. Less than three thousand officers and ratings were drafted to the coastal artillery, around one-third of the full roll. There was a general shortage of officers, in particular sergeants and sub-lieutenants, which meant there had to be a strict prioritisation of which guns and batteries to man. Test firing of the larger guns with full-calibre ammunition was usually not allowed and neither guns nor men were prepared for extended firing, all the more so as the technical personnel needed for sustained live firing were no longer available. With an unfortunate short-sightedness, all the youngest and most recently trained ratings were drafted first. Thus, by the spring of 1940, a good number of the gunners had done their tour and been replaced, either by older men, trained up to twenty years earlier, or by youngsters, totally new to military life. At some forts, the crew had only been at their guns for a few days when the alarm sounded in the small hours of 9 April. A large number of guns, searchlights, torpedo batteries and A/A defences remained unmanned. No minefields were laid.

The Norwegian Army was subdivided into six ‘district commands’ or divisions. Each division had one field-brigade with one artillery and two or three infantry regiments to be mobilised in an emergency. In September 1939, four battalions were drafted in southern Norway in addition to one artillery unit and half a dozen local companies. It was intended that the men should serve for two months before being replaced. This kept the division staffs preoccupied with the rotations and limited the time available to prepare for a full mobilisation. In mid-November, Commanding General Kristian Laake requested permission from the Ministry of Defence to draft cavalry, artillery and engineer units, totalling some 7,300 men, for extended training and exercises and to bolster the Neutrality Watch during the winter. This was declined, but after some argument, he was allowed to draft one battalion from each artillery regiment on a rotational basis. The post-war Parliamentary Investigating Committee found the Norwegian defences in 1939 ‘extremely weak [and] poorly equipped to protect our nation, to say nothing of making an efficient effort in open war’.⁴³ Still, it is worth noting that Brigadier Vale, the British military attaché to Norway in 1937, reported from observing a week of exercises with the 6th Division that the soldiers, in spite of limited number of training days, appeared ‘competent in weapon handling and physically very fit’.⁴⁴

In 1939 both the Naval Air Arm and the Army Air Force were small and neither was equipped to handle the demands of the Neutrality Watch. Disagreement on the organisation of the air forces and types of aircraft needed had seriously delayed necessary renewals, and only some thirty-five naval aircraft were available, spread in small groups around the coast. By 9 April, wear and tear had reduced the number of operational aircraft to twenty-eight, and of these, only the six He115s taken into service during the summer of 1939 had any real combat value. Apart from a handful of Gloster Gladiator bi-planes and small Caproni bombers, the Army Air Force faired no better. Only the airfields at Kjeller-Oslo and Værnes-Trondheim were properly staffed and equipped. Sola-Stavanger, Fornebu-Oslo and Kjevik-Kristiansand were civilian airfields where the air force at best was seen as a guest.

Contrary to Quisling’s claims, an alliance between Norway and Britain was never even close to reality, in spite of the British chartering of the Norwegian merchant fleet and the signing of a war trade agreement in March.⁴⁵ The concept of war was repulsive to Norwegian Prime Minister Johan Nygaardsvold and for him it was an absolute that Norway should be neutral. International issues had for years been handled by Foreign Minister Halvdan Koht, who had masterminded Norwegian foreign policy since the coming to power of the Labour Party in 1935. Now he took it upon himself to steer Norway outside the war.

Koht was a complex individual. He had been professor of history at the University of Oslo and was very highly educated. He firmly believed that the rights and duties of neutral states were laid down in established principles and precedents of international law and saw no need for alternatives. A pacifist by his own definition, Koht considered the best defence for a nation to be ‘informed and sober politics’ rather than armed force and he believed neutrality, once declared, could be maintained without substantial armed forces. He realised a defensive war might become necessary, should all attempts at solving conflicts through diplomacy fail, and said ‘. . . we shall defend our neutrality, but if at all possible, not become entangled in a war.’ Only if political means failed should the armed forces be alerted and prepared to fight. This relied on a ‘prescient Foreign Office’ being able to decide if the international situation demanded that it would be necessary to mobilise the defences. The problem was that neither Koht nor any other member of the government made any serious efforts to grasp the state of the Norwegian defences and what an appropriate preparedness would mean in operational terms – far less how it could be achieved, what it would cost or how long it would take.⁴⁶

Johan Nygaardsvold (1879–1952). Norwegian prime minister from 1935. Nygaardsvold focused on economic and social progress for the majority of the population and there is little doubt that Norway was a better society for most of its inhabitants by 1939. He was affectionately known as ‘Gubben’ or the Old Man. (Billedsentralen/Scanpix)

Koht’s distaste of Nazism was indisputable, but it was paralleled by a rejection of imperialism in general, which would not favour him to either side. He later wrote:

In September 1939, the most challenging and difficult time of my life started. The seven months [before the German invasion] was every hour filled by a restless struggle to keep the country out of the war and secure its freedom. I was on duty day and night, weekdays and weekends – like on a tightrope between the belligerents. There is no doubt that the relationship with Britain – and thereby France – was the most difficult during this period and wore hard on my nerves. Politically, ideologically, nationally and personally my affinity, as well as that of the nation, rested with the Allies. Still, the British had a demanding attitude that was difficult to accept and continuously forced their issues onto us instead of negotiating affably.⁴⁷

The constant responsibility took its toll and in April, Koht was tired and worn out.

The Labour government took power in 1935 with a negative attitude towards the armed forces and, although reality prevailed, the defence budgets increased unhurriedly through 1936–37 in spite of the threatening situation. Typically funds were made available in the form of extraordinary grants, special grants, grants for one-off purchases and eventually for the Neutrality Watch instead of a long-term dedicated budgetary commitment. As the international situation hardened through the 1930s the politicians, who almost universally lacked experience and competence in military matters, failed to initiate a constructive dialogue with the appointed leaders of the army and navy on how best to organise an effective and credible defence. From the memoirs of Koht and other ministers it appears that the government, to a large extent, believed that the extraordinary grants to the armed forces actually put things right. As late as September 1939, a new special grant was voted down, as funds already set aside for the Neutrality Watch were considered adequate. In practical terms, the fundamental conceptual difference between the government and the staffs resulted in disagreement on how to apply the extraordinary grants and on the prioritisations of the modification of the armed forces. In particular this would affect the navy, where the government’s wish for quantity of ships overruled the Admiral Staff’s wish for firepower.⁴⁸

Halvdan Koht, Norwegian foreign minister from 1935. The photo is taken in Molde in late April and Koht (left) is in a meeting with his secretary, Tostrup. (Krigsarkivet/Scanpix)

Minister of Church and Education Nils Hjelmtveit later wrote that he often ‘had the impression the military administration worked efficiently, but very slowly [and] often took a very long time to prepare purchase of new equipment’.⁴⁹ Chief of the General Staff Oberst Rasmus Hatledal, however, held that prioritised lists of needed equipment and supplies were submitted on several occasions to the Ministry of Defence, but never responded to. It appears that at least part of the confusion can be explained by the unfortunate lack of co-ordinated management between the services and the inability of the Ministry of Defence to secure a proper dialogue between the military and the government. On the other hand, years of political neglect could not be restored overnight, irrespective of the increased funds available. The lack of experienced officers, NCOs and technical personnel would take considerable time to amend. Above all, the purchase of high-quality weapon systems from abroad was rapidly becoming virtually impossible, while Norway’s own armament industry had been all but decimated. Specialised naval vessels could only be built at the naval yard in Horten and building of the Sleipner-class destroyers there, for all practical purposes, took up the available capacity – these would be the only RNN vessels with genuine combat value launched after 1936.⁵⁰

By the spring of 1940, the Army and Navy Air Arms jointly had some 150 aircraft under order from Britain, the USA, Italy and Germany – sixty of them fighters. All of these had been delayed several times and in some cases purchases had been cancelled just before delivery. Nineteen Curtiss Hawk 75A-6 fighter aircraft from the USA had actually been delivered, but not yet made operational.⁵¹ Around 150 20–40-mm guns were ordered from wherever they could be found, but none was delivered before 9 April. Last but not least, eight modern motor torpedo boats (MTBs) were ordered from Britain in early 1939. Two officers and four engineers went to Britain in February to oversee the completion of the boats, but none had been delivered before the invasion.⁵²

In London it was recognised that Norway might be important for Germany as a source of vital supplies. To prevent this and tie the country as close as possible to the Allies with the smallest of means, the British minister to Norway, Sir Cecil Dormer, was instructed to assure Koht in a ‘confidential but formal’ manner that Britain would give Norway support against potential German aggression and would consider ‘a German attack on Norway as tantamount to an attack on this country’. This he did on the 11 September 1939. Koht later wrote that the assurance pleased him and, as it was given to him in strict confidence, he considered it a trustworthy commitment. As he ‘did not wish to tie [Norway] closer to Britain than it already was’, he replied curtly that he did not believe Germany ‘would do anything like that as there was nothing to gain’. Dormer reported to London that Koht made few remarks, but it probably ‘had a good effect’.

On the 22 September the British minister was back. This time he confirmed that Britain would respect the declared Norwegian neutrality, but added that this would only apply as long as Germany did the same.⁵³ Again Koht did not respond much, but later wrote that this visit caused him concern as it made British respect for Norwegian sovereignty depend on London’s interpretation of third-party action, not Norway’s own handling of affairs.⁵⁴ Still, there was no doubt in Koht’s mind as to which was the ‘right side’, should Norway be drawn into the war. In an interview with Reuters in early April, he said with clear reference to London:

. . . We understand very well the difference between the goals of the warring parties, but it is part of our neutrality not to take sides. Neutrality is the only possible policy for us. . . . The harm done by Germany to Norwegian life and property has created great anger in this country and we do what we can to make it stop. British acts against our neutrality are of a different character, often affecting our honour and independence as much as our material interests [and] it may come to a point when also small nations must defend their honour.⁵⁵

On 22 December, Koht told the Foreign Affairs Committee that he believed ‘England and France would very much like to drive Norway out of its neutrality and into the war.’ Koht realised that circles in London saw a direct interest in undermining Norwegian neutrality and provoking retaliatory German actions, which would force Norway into the war on the Allied side. He mistakenly believed that Berlin would find the reasons for maintaining Norwegian neutrality more compelling than those for military actions and therefore would not rise to the Allied lures. In all his rationality, Koht failed to grasp that the leadership in Berlin had a logic of its own and was not hindered by international boundaries and declarations of neutrality, even after Austria, Czechoslovakia and Poland had been overrun.

For personal and political reasons, Koht declined several invitations to go to Berlin and Rome. He never travelled to London either, but later alleged this to be coincidental and largely due to lack of a good opportunity. In his memoirs, he wrote that a planned visit to England in early 1939 was cancelled on the advice of the Norwegian minister in London, Erik Colban, as a recent visit from the Polish foreign minister had been portrayed in British media as the building of an alliance. Had Koht and Colban found an opportunity to develop relations and perhaps a better understanding of intentions in both London and Oslo, things might have been very different. Koht played a hard hand with both the German and British ministers in Oslo, being very conscious not to let them know what he really believed or expected. That the politicians in London were offended by his apparent lack of distinction between the aggressive German warfare and what they considered defensive measures did not occur to Koht. ‘My impression was that both the Germans and the Allies were uncertain of me . . . I think this was to the benefit of my country,’ he wrote. One may wonder.⁵⁶

In December 1939, Oberst Birger Ljungberg was appointed defence minister, replacing the ageing Fredrik Monsen. The appointment was somewhat surprising as Ljungberg was a professional officer, unknown outside the army and not a member of the Labour Party. If anything, he was a Conservative. The appointment of a professional military man was well received in the Parliament, where it was believed that the government would now be guided in the right direction.⁵⁷ For many, Oberst Otto Ruge, the inspector general of the army, would have been the natural choice. Nygaardsvold and Koht agreed, however, that he was too obstinate for them and would never accept a passive role in the government. Thus, when Monsen suggested Ljungberg as his successor, Nygaardsvold eagerly concurred.⁵⁸ Welcoming his new minister to the government, Nygaardsvold bluntly advised him to ‘concentrate on the administration of the defence [as] the political side would be handled by the other ministers’. That this reinforced Ljungberg’s position as an outsider seems not to have bothered Nygaardsvold. The communication between the military and the government was unsatisfactory during the neutrality period in general and in early April in particular. The responsibility for this cannot be put anywhere but on the defence minister. What might have happened, had a stronger, more influential personality like Ruge, Fleischer or Hatledal been chosen, remains conjecture.⁵⁹

Commanding general, Generalmajor Kristian Laake (from 1933), and commanding admiral, Kontreadmiral Henry Diesen (from April 1938), both of whom reported directly to the defence minister, were largely political appointments having been given their offices because the government knew it could trust their loyalty and subordination to political decisions.⁶⁰ Before becoming commanding general, Laake had led the preparatory work for the Defence Act of 1933, and there would be no better man to carry it through, cutting the Norwegian defence forces to the bone. Laake and Diesen must take responsibility for the failure of the armed forces to optimise the use of the resources made available to them and for not taking a more active role towards the politicians when it became clear that not even the minimum obligations of the Defence Act would be followed. Both accepted that the government had to take ‘economic considerations’ and expressed their opinions through budget proposals and occasional reports, but neither man was prepared to take individual initiatives on a scale required to rock the boat. They believed the ‘prescient Foreign Office’ would initiate necessary precautions in due time, if needed. Neither man ascertained whether the time it would take and the resources needed to increase the strength of the Norwegian defences were appreciated by the government. In 1945, Laake told the Investigating Committee that he believed the ‘initiatives taken during the autumn of 1939 were adequate [as] the government counted on England and assumed it would never come to actions of war on Norwegian soil. Should a German attack occur, England would help reject it – and versus the British, one should not fight.’

Birger Ljungberg, Norwegian defence minister from 1940. (NTB/Scanpix)

Commanding General Laake was nearing retirement. His health had started to fail and the 55-year-old Oberst Hatledal, Chief of the General Staff, troubled by the situation, took on more and more of the tasks and responsibilities of the general. It appears that Ljungberg did not appreciate this and a fatal gap in communication opened up between the General Staff and the minister.

Between the army and the navy, there was a fundamental disagreement on the assessment of threats and tactics to be applied. Hatledal as well as Oberst Otto Ruge, inspector general of the army, assumed a potential attacker would have clear military objectives – naval and air bases or iron ore. Contrary to Koht and the Foreign Office, Hatledal and Ruge believed that the main threat to Norway would come from Germany (and Russia in the north). Britain would, in all likelihood, respect Norwegian neutrality, but attempt to tie the country as close as possible to their economic warfare and not accept any of the other powers utilising the neutrality for its own purposes. A full-scale occupation of the country was not envisaged, as Ruge later openly admitted. When the grants for the military did start to rise, large-scale combined field exercises were organised in south-west Norway in 1937, 1938 and 1939. The exercises were intended to test the defence against an expeditionary corps that had landed between Kristiansand and Stavanger, moving towards Sola airfield. Naturally, numerous flaws and inadequacies emerged and it was clear that it would take years before the Norwegian defences could adequately meet a real threat. Above all, tactics and mobility needed to be improved and new weapon systems against aircraft and armoured vehicles were desperately needed. Demonstrating such shortcomings had undoubtedly been part of the exercises, but there is no record of this being explicitly presented to and understood by the government.

The navy was involved in the exercises, scouting, protecting convoys and acting as opponents. Chief of the Admiral Staff Kommandør Elias Corneliussen argued, with support from fellow naval officers, that the scenario for the exercises was unrealistic as long as the Royal Navy dominated the North Sea. In a newspaper interview in January 1939, Commanding Admiral Diesen held that he considered a war between Britain and Norway improbable, and hence a German intervention in Norway unlikely. ‘To attack Norway one needs supremacy in the North Sea – but if one has, there is no need to,’ he argued – tacitly implying that the threat to Norway indeed was from Germany, but held in check by Britain’s naval strength.

Ruge, on the other hand, predicted that under certain conditions Britain could become engaged elsewhere, creating a situation where Germany might seek to improve its position. The modernised Luftwaffe was a far greater threat to British naval power than before and might achieve at least temporary supremacy, covering the transport and landing of German troops on the Norwegian south coast. This would eventually provoke a British response, he wrote, but ‘. . . British intelligence may fail, or British hesitation may miss the moment of opportunity. In any case, we must be aware that the powers at war will not assist us out of mere sympathy, bur consider their own interests. We shall have to bear the brunt of the first attack alone.’⁶¹

The commanders expected the government to keep them informed of the development of the international situation. The government, however, expected the commanders to keep them informed of the military situation and of any shortcomings in the ability of the armed forces to sustain the neutrality. Neither happened. Diesen and Laake never had adequate insight into the government’s thinking regarding the international situation and the threats to Norwegian neutrality. The politicians never understood the mobilisation apparatus, its terminology or inevitable disruption of everyday life. Important intelligence and assessments were not disseminated, far less discussed between the military and civilian authorities. After 1 September 1939, the commanders were not called to the government on a single occasion to discuss the political and military situation – before 8 April – and there is no evidence to suggest the Ministry of Defence sought to improve the situation. The threat analysis from the General Staff, later shown to be very accurate, was ignored.

Nygaardsvold and Koht most probably believed that the already mobilised forces were adequate to handle the neutrality and that the defence minister was taking care of military matters in a satisfactory manner. Koht later admitted his poor knowledge of the armed forces, but claimed that it did not matter much as he left this to the defence minister. His actions do not always support this claim, though, and on several occasions there was direct contact between Commanding Admiral Diesen and him, sidelining Ljungberg. Koht believed that his communication with the ministry of defence was good, as ‘all kinds of information’ was forwarded and ‘the members of the government met at least three times a week,’ but there is no record of interaction, joint analysis or assessment of the information; far less of ascertaining that the actual state of the defences matched the situation. ‘Neither of the powers have any unsettled business with Norway’, said Defence Minister Monsen in the Parliament in March 1939. At the same time, Koht argued that the purpose of the army and navy was ‘not to wage war, but through all possible means keep us out of it’. Neither position was revised until it was too late.⁶²

x

Winston is Back ⁶³

In September 1939, Norway was given little consideration in the British War Cabinet for the conduct of the coming war. The sympathies of that country’s government and people would, according to Minister Dormer in Oslo, ‘favour the British cause, to a greater extent perhaps than in any other neutral country’. The only real concern was that the Scandinavian states might not actively join the blockade of Germany.⁶⁴ For First Lord of the Admiralty Winston Churchill, the ‘thousand-mile-long peninsula stretching from the mouth of the Baltic to the Arctic Circle had an immense strategic significance’, and severing the import of iron ore to Germany from Scandinavia, particularly the portion that went through Narvik, became a focus soon after his arrival at the Admiralty. Some of the senior staff there advocated ‘a division of destroyers in Vestfjorden’ as a convenient tool, even if this would challenge Norwegian authorities and naval forces. Others, like C-in-C Nore Admiral Drax, argued repeatedly for minefields. Churchill was at first against ‘any drastic operations like landing forces or stationing ships in Norwegian waters’, and instructed his staff to assess the option of severing the Leads by laying minefields ‘at some lonely spots on the coast, as far north as convenient’.

On 19 September, Churchill for the first time drew the attention of the War Cabinet to the issue of Swedish iron ore to Germany. He fully supported the recently initiated negotiations for chartering the Norwegian merchant fleet, but urged diplomatic pressure be applied to halt German ore traffic inside the Norwegian Leads. Failing this, Churchill said, he would be compelled to propose more drastic measures such as ‘the laying of mines inside Norwegian territorial waters [to] drive the ore-carrying vessels outside the three-mile limit’. The Cabinet accepted the importance of the ore import for Germany, but would give no support to try to sever it, beyond diplomatic means. First of all, German ore ships leaving Narvik had virtually ceased after the outbreak of war. Secondly, the Chiefs of Staff Committee (CoS) had two weeks earlier stated in a note to the War Cabinet that in view of Norway’s economic importance to Germany, Berlin was unlikely to violate Norwegian neutrality, unless provoked by an Allied intervention or an interference with the iron-ore supplies. Last but not least, there was fear of negative reactions from the USA and other neutral countries if Britain were to violate Scandinavian neutrality.

By mid-November, the Admiralty had developed plans for how and where the Royal Navy could ‘. . . control the approaches to Narvik by naval forces in order to divert German iron ore imports to Great Britain.’ On 30 November, Churchill brought to the War Cabinet a report he had received a few days earlier from the Ministry of Economic Warfare (MEW), concluding that ‘complete stoppage of Swedish exports of iron ore to Germany would, barring unpredictable developments, end the war in a few months’ – a conclusion based on the complete and sustained severing of the whole Swedish ore supply, not only that through Narvik. Churchill asserted that during the coming winter the Baltic would be closed by ice and the export confined to the Leads, where even small minefields would force the ore ships into international waters where the Royal Navy could intercept those bound for Germany.

The Chief of the Imperial General Staff, General Edmund Ironside, agreed that Swedish iron ore was a significant strategic objective and there were advantages in taking the war to Scandinavia, ‘seizing the initiative from Hitler’. He argued that laying mines would only annoy the Norwegians, at little gain, and favoured a more sustained operation – securing control of the entire Lapland deposits with well-equipped troops and careful planning. Germany would certainly be provoked, but not able to react before May, giving ample time to establish a proper defence. All the more so, Ironside held, as in ‘such a remote and forbidding country a very small force could hold up a large one’. Not quite convinced either way, the War Cabinet ‘invited the CoS to prepare an appreciation of the military factors involved . . . to stop the import of iron ore to Germany by the sea route from Narvik, either by stationing a naval force in the Vest Fjord or by laying a minefield on the Norwegian coast’. At the same time, the MEW was ‘invited to consider, in consultation with other Ministries, the effect this might have on Germany’s economic position’. Both reports should also address the potential counter-measures Germany might take by military or economic means. Wheels had been set in motion.⁶⁵

At dawn of that same day, 30 November, more than 450,000 Soviet troops with over 1,000 tanks crossed the borders to Finland after the Finnish government had refused to allow Russian bases around Leningrad. Led by Field Marshal Carl Gustav Mannerheim, the Suomi soldiers, contrary to all expectations, put up a spirited resistance, making full use of terrain and the coldest winter of the century. The Russians, seriously underestimating the Finnish will to resist, were not equipped for winter and suffered grievously. The Russian advance was stalled by Finnish tenacity, and the ‘Winter War’ ground to a halt.

From 1935 to 1939, the overall German iron-ore import rose from fourteen to nearly twenty-two million tons, of which the high-grade Swedish ore accounted for around nine million tons.⁶⁶ Mined in the Kiruna–Gällivare district of Lapland, just north of the Arctic Circle, the ore was exported through Luleå in the Gulf of Bothnia or Narvik in Norway. Purpose-built railway lines connected the mines with both ports. In the winter, when the Gulf of Bothnia froze and Luleå became icebound, normally from late November to mid-April, the export went solely through Narvik. Of the 6.5 million tons of Swedish ore shipped through Narvik during the winter of 1938/39, some 4.5 million tons went to Germany, in addition to some 1.2 million tons of Norwegian ore, mainly from Kirkenes. After the outbreak of war, the export through Narvik to Germany dropped rapidly. During the first seven months, 763,000 tons went to Germany, as opposed to 798,000 tons to Britain. In late March, after a visit to Oslo, Minister Colban presented a memorandum to British Foreign Secretary Halifax from Koht, where it was pointed out that of the six hundred thousand tons of iron ore waiting to be loaded in Narvik harbour, 400,000 were destined for Britain and only 200,000 for Germany. This information was confirmed by Swedish sources, adding that ‘non-cooperation’ at the railways delayed the German iron-ore traffic significantly while pressure on the Norwegian Pilot Association for a boycott was beginning to take effect, forcing German ships into open waters. No ore ships were sent from Germany to Narvik between 3 September and 25 October. By early November, some ten ships were involved in the German traffic to Norway, increasing to over twenty by the year end and to fifty by early March. On 18 December, the last ore transport of the year left Luleå and from then on, until the ice broke in the gulf again, German off-take of Swedish iron ore would be stockpiled or go via Narvik.

The export facilities in Narvik were thus useful, but not indispensable for the German ore import. Severing the traffic through Narvik without halting that through Luleå would at best have limited consequences, and would only have any effect at all during the winter. This was clearly spelled out by the MEW to the British War Cabinet in early December in their report, which concluded that ‘The principal argument therefore put forward by the First Lord in favour of action in Norwegian waters [is] invalid.’⁶⁷

Between 7 and 13 December 1939, the Greek freighter Garoufalia and the British Deptford and Thomas Walton were sunk off the Norwegian coast. Investigations by the RNN could not exclude drifting mines as the causes of the shipwrecks, but circumstantial evidence indicated that they had been torpedoed. Commanding Admiral Diesen stated it could not be said with absolute certainty the Thomas Walton had been inside the three-mile limit, whereas Garoufalia most likely and Deptford definitely had been. Actually, the culprit in all three cases was the German submarine U38 under the command of Kapitänleutnant Heinrich Liebe.⁶⁸

Seizing the moment, Churchill submitted a new memorandum to the War Cabinet on the 16th, arguing that,

. . . the effectual stoppage of the Norwegian ore supplies to Germany ranks as a major offensive operation of war . . . If Germany can be cut from all Swedish ore supplies from now onwards till the end of 1940 a blow will have been struck at her war-making capacity equal to a first-class victory in the field or from the air, and without any serious sacrifice of life . . . British control of the Norwegian coast-line is a strategic objective of first-class importance.⁶⁹

Internal pressure in France made the Daladier government almost desperate for diversionary measures away from a potentially new Western Front and on 19 December, the French delegation to the Allied Supreme War Council proposed to send a corps d’expedition to Norway, officially to help Finland, but also to take control of the Swedish ore deposits as well as the export sites in Narvik and Luleå. Daladier argued that depriving Germany of the ore might lead to a swift victory; failing to act might prolong the war by several years.

The French proposal was discussed in the War Cabinet on the 22nd, by which time the CoS had also submitted their report on stoppage of Swedish iron ore. The CoS had found the question complicated. Stationing a naval force in Vestfjorden would be most effective, but run a high risk of clashing with the Norwegian navy. Laying of mines would have fewer risks, but supposedly be less effective. Churchill enthusiastically reiterated the proposed naval intervention from his memorandum of the week before and urged ‘taking the first step of interrupting supplies from Narvik after such preliminary diplomatic negotiations as might be necessary’. Foreign Secretary Halifax, rather less excited, felt the consequences of limited actions in Norwegian waters were unpredictable; isolated landings in the Narvik area would be welcomed by neither Norway nor Sweden and could compromise the larger project of stopping all Nordic supplies to Germany. Severing the iron ore from Narvik alone was of ‘little importance’, he held; ‘the key to the whole problem [being] the stoppage of supplies from Luleå’. Prime Minister Chamberlain concluded there were two distinct projects for Scandinavia: the ‘smaller scheme’, halting the traffic from Narvik, through mines or naval patrols, and the ‘larger project’, securing the ore-fields proper, severing all supplies of ore to Germany. The latter, which undoubtedly had French support, would require ‘the good will of both Norway and Sweden’, and diplomatic pressure was the most he was prepared to apply at the moment. Still, the CoS was ‘invited to give further consideration to all the military implications of a policy aimed at stopping the export of Swedish iron ore to Germany’.

On 27 December, the War Cabinet discussed the Scandinavian issue again, now with firm conclusions from the Admiralty that the three merchant ships had been torpedoed inside Norwegian territory. Norwegian authorities, though not directly to blame in the opinion of the Admiralty, had been unable to prevent this, and ‘steps to stop the German traffic from Narvik down the Norwegian coast’ were advised. This time the War Cabinet concurred. Before any operations were initiated, though, Oslo and Stockholm should be informed that they could count on Allied help, should they undertake to assist Finland, followed by a notice to Norway that Britain was planning to send warships to intercept the German traffic. Meanwhile, the CoS was instructed to finish their report on the military implications of severing the iron ore from Sweden to Germany, while the War Office should ‘continue preparations with a view to the ultimate despatch of a force to Narvik’.⁷⁰

The Swedish and Norwegian ministers in London were that same day called to the Foreign Office and given aide-mémoires informing them that His Majesty’s and the French government were disposed to give ‘all the indirect assistance in their power’ to Finland and were at present assessing how this could be done in the most efficient manner. The two countries were requested to grant consent for the transit of equipment and ‘technicians’, in return the Allies would be willing to discuss protection against the consequences of such permission. The Norwegian answer came over New Year: Norway would be pleased to assist in any aid to Finland, including transit of material ‘. . . without any military attendance’ and transit of a ‘technical mission to Finland . . . granted that such technicists will travel . . . in their private capacity’. The note concluded that ‘the Norwegian government was grateful for the offer of an assurance for the preservation of the integrity and independence of Norway’, but did not ‘at the present moment wish to have this assurance more precisely defined’.⁷¹ The Swedish answer was identical.

In the meantime, on 31 December, the CoS reported to the War Cabinet that – provided it was ascertained that Germany would be adversely affected by an interruption of the Lapland ore – despatching an expedition to Scandinavia could be worthwhile. It was underlined that this would represent a ‘fundamental change’ in British policy and a shift to ‘offensive operations, which might well prove decisive’. Provided the security of France was not compromised, the strategy of operating in Scandinavia was considered ‘sound’, but an expedition inland from Narvik, in the face of Norwegian and Swedish opposition, would not be feasible. Concluding, the CoS advised against any minor naval projects until the larger project was ready in March, as this might trigger a major German offensive, which could not be forestalled.

Initial plans for the expedition, assuming Norwegian and Swedish co-operation, were presented to the War Cabinet and their advisers on 2 January and discussed thoroughly in the following days. The significance of the Swedish iron ore for the long-term German ability to wage war was generally agreed and few doubted that severing the supply through Narvik would provoke a response from Berlin. What kind of response was unclear, but besides direct action in Sweden, a likely retaliation would be to seize bases in southern Norway, probably between Kristiansand and Stavanger. A move on Oslo was considered less probable, as this would be a much larger operation and most likely to be met with Norwegian opposition. German bases on the Norwegian west coast would be a most serious threat to British control of the North Sea and it might be difficult to dislodge them once established. Hence, forestalling a German intervention in Norway would be essential. Norwegian reactions to an unprovoked Allied intrusion were largely expected to be symbolic.

Churchill was not convinced the Germans would react in force at all and repeatedly urged immediate action to ‘see what happened’, adding that British naval forces were standing by and ready to seize German ore ships coming out of Narvik. Chamberlain wished to gauge the Norwegian reactions through political means, and the delivery of a second, stronger memorandum to the Norwegian government was agreed. Meanwhile, the CoS should give further consideration to the consequences of a German occupation of southern Norway and how this could be avoided – including pre-emptive occupation of Stavanger, Bergen and Trondheim.⁷²

Eric Colban, Norwegian ambassador in London. (Topfoto/Scanpix)

On Saturday 6 January, Halifax called Minister Colban to his office again, handing him a memorandum expressing dire concern by His Majesty’s government over the recent ‘flagrant violation of Norwegian territorial waters by German naval forces’. The British government, Halifax said, would in the near future be obliged to take ‘appropriate dispositions to prevent the use of Norwegian territorial waters by German ships and trade’, if necessary by operating inside those waters. The Norwegian government was taken aback by the British note. ‘Colban’s report from his meeting with Halifax shocked me,’ Koht wrote, ‘it was the most serious scare and I really felt the war looming. Not for a second did I doubt the Germans would see this as a provocation and turn their war-machine against Norway.’ The memorandum and its implications were discussed at length in the Norwegian government over the next few days. Koht held that, should a situation arise where there was no choice left, it was vital Norway was not brought into the war on the German side. It was equally important, he said, that this was not publicly known as it might in itself compromise the neutrality.

The reply from Oslo eventually took the form of an emphatic letter from King Haakon to King George, delivered by Colban on 9 January. The king’s letter, no doubt endorsed by the government, underlined his ‘great surprise and consternation’ over the plans to ‘make Norwegian territorial waters a basis for British naval action’ and ‘appealed to [His Britannic Majesty] to prevent such steps, which inevitably would bring Norway into the war and imply the greatest danger for her existence as a Sovereign State’. Embarrassed by this approach and fearing Norwegian reactions might harm the ‘larger project’, Chamberlain and Halifax decided to abandon any operations against the Narvik traffic for the time being. As the Swedish reactions were also very negative, the War Cabinet accepted this on the 12th. The CoS was nevertheless ‘invited to consider the possibility of capturing the Gällivare ore fields in the face of Norwegian and Swedish opposition’.⁷³ No indication of the decision to stand down should be given to the Scandinavian governments, but Laurence Collier of the Foreign Office remarked sourly to Colban a few days later: ‘You have won – so far.’⁷⁴

Scandinavia was not long off the agenda of the War Cabinet, however. Minister Colban was called to Halifax again on 18 January and learned that:

. . . the real question at issue was not one of law, and it was for that very reason [Halifax] regarded the case of His Majesty’s Government as stronger than the Norwegian Government seemed willing to admit. Not only was it a case in broad equity for equalising the treatment of the two parties in respect of the conduct of war so that the Germans could no longer be permitted to break all the rules and commit inhumanities of every sort, not only in Norwegian waters but everywhere on the high seas while His Majesty’s Government were expected to refrain from even the smallest technical violation of international law.⁷⁵

To this, Colban answered that after the incidents in mid-December, the Norwegian Navy had started escorting convoys along the exposed parts of the coast and nothing more had happened. As for supporting the Allied cause, the charter agreement for merchant tonnage had just been signed and the negotiations for a war trade agreement were making progress.

Meanwhile, the planning of the ‘larger project’ progressed unfalteringly and had by late January grown to three parallel, complementary operations; one in northern Norway–Lapland, one in southern Norway and one in southern Sweden. It was underlined by the CoS to the War Cabinet on 28 January that the stakes of such an operation would be high, but the prize of success would be ‘great’ and should be seized ‘with both hands’ should an opportunity arise. Breaking through determined resistance would be costly and the co-operation of both countries was ‘essential’. Even with the consent of the Scandinavian governments, the operation would draw heavily on the navy for transport and protection; two divisions intended for France would have to be diverted. In order to be ‘ready to act in April’, the CoS concluded it would be necessary to make a decision to launch the operation ‘in the near future’. Chamberlain, however, was still smarting from the defeat in January and not prepared to make any firm decisions. The troops, naval forces and transports earmarked for the operation were to be released even if the CoS was allowed to continue the detailed planning for Scandinavia, including the ‘purchase of specialised stores and clothing required for Arctic conditions’.⁷⁶

In early February, the French ambassador to London, Charles Corbin, asked Foreign Secretary Halifax for ‘the whole question of [the] policy in Scandinavia and Finland’ to be discussed in the next meeting of the Supreme War Council. The meeting was convened in Paris on 5 February. Three days earlier, the British War Cabinet had decided, against cautioning from the Foreign Office, that it ‘ought to do something, even if it were only to divert from ourselves the odium of having allowed Finland to be crushed’. Thus, Chamberlain, after having dismissed a French proposal to land troops at Petsamo in northern Finland, advocated the larger project. He did however, urge the Council not to lose sight of the principal aim, the defeat of Germany, in their determination to save Finland. The ideal operation would, according to Chamberlain, be one which, proceeding from Norwegian ports, combined assistance to Finland with control of the Lapland ore fields. Daladier was happy to comply and on this day, almost two weeks before the Altmark incident, the council agreed to set up an Anglo-French expeditionary force – to be ready by 20 March – ostensibly to help Finland but first and foremost to secure the Swedish iron ore, gain strategic control over the Norwegian coast and, with any luck, to divert substantial German forces from the Western Front. To overcome their unwillingness it was decided to exert ‘vigorous moral pressure’ on Norway and Sweden, while Finland would be asked to issue an official appeal for help to add moral pressure. According to Churchill, the issue of what to do if Norway and Sweden refused, as seemed probable, was never brought up. The risk of becoming entangled in a war with Russia appears also to have been pushed under the carpet; possibly few of the British delegation really expected that the soldiers would go beyond the Swedish ore fields. The Germans would respond, but this would take time and meanwhile any attack in the west would be postponed – it was assumed.⁷⁷

General Ironside noted enthusiastically in his diary:

If we bring this off, we shall have carried out a great coup, which will upset . . . German preparations. One is almost frightened at the boldness of the plan, knowing what slender means one has at the moment to carry it out. We must see we are politically strong, and remain quite cynical about anything except stopping the iron-ore.⁷⁸

The plan was indeed bold. In spite of the setback in late January, military preparations had continued steadily and plans were now nearing completion. Operation Avonmouth would seize the Lapland fields, Operation Stratford would secure control of western Norway and Operation Plymouth would secure a defence of southern Sweden. Four to five divisions, including five French and one or two Polish battalions would be deployed in Narvik–Lapland–Luleå, while five additional battalions would occupy Trondheim and Bergen (from where railway lines necessary for transport of heavy material connected eastward) and would be prepared to protect these ports against German attacks.⁷⁹ A front line was envisaged from Bergen via Oslo to Stockholm, south of which German air attacks would be fierce. Stavanger would be occupied temporarily and in the event that superior German forces attempted to take control of the airfield and the city’s port, both should be demolished before a withdrawal towards Bergen.

In all, a hundred thousand British and fifty thousand French/Polish troops with naval and air support would be deployed under overall British command. Two or three brigades were all that would end up in Finland, where they would remain near the railway in the north to avoid getting too close to the Russians or being cut off by a likely German intervention when the Gulf of Bothnia unfroze. The ultimate goal for the Allied planners was the Norwegian west coast and the Swedish iron ore, not aid to Finland. The secretary of state for war, Oliver Stanley, warned the Cabinet on 18 February that the ‘whole affair was in danger of becoming unmanageable’, as with a commitment of this scale Britain would ‘not be able to send any more troops to France until well into the summer’. Chamberlain expressed concern over this ‘new and somewhat disturbing [information], which had not before been brought to the notice of the War Cabinet’, but left it at that.

Churchill also had second thoughts for a while; partly on moral grounds, partly from seeing the size of the Scandinavian operation. He wished for a ‘pretext for getting a footing in Scandinavia’ and within a fortnight got this from the Altmark incident, which he to a large extent orchestrated himself. Following this, he argued emphatically that the alleged Norwegian inability to protect its own waters from German trespassing should be used to lay one or more minefields in Norwegian territorial water forthwith, ‘to prevent similar episodes’. This would not ‘prejudice the larger operation’, he held, but might – quite to the contrary – ‘succeed in provoking Germany into imprudent action, which would open the door for us’. Invading Norway on a large scale against Norwegian acceptance, Churchill warned, would be a ‘grave error’. Even a few shots between Norwegian and British forces ‘would be a most unfortunate affair’, but minor violations at carefully selected sites could be performed without confrontations with the Norwegian Navy. His arguments were not accepted by the Cabinet this time either, but he did receive support to start preparations for mining, should it be decided later. Hence the Admiralty was ordered to be prepared for operations in Norwegian waters, which, ‘being minor and innocent may be called Wilfred’.

According to General Ironside, the army was not ready for a ‘hurried action’ and would not be so until mid-March. ‘This [mining] project of the First Lord will accelerate any contemplated German actions in Scandinavia,’ he held with some frustration. ‘We must be absolutely clear that once we land a Force in Scandinavia, we are committed to a war there. . . . The expedition itself may be small to begin with, but will grow to be a major effort.’ On 29 February Chamberlain concluded that, in spite of Altmark, he could ‘not advise the War Cabinet to take action in Norwegian territorial waters for the present’. Any mining would have to be deferred ‘and its execution reconsidered as the situation developed’. In a letter to Ambassador Corbin on the same day, it was explained that the War Cabinet did not think mining or any other minor naval actions offered ‘advantages sufficient to offset the disadvantages on moral ground . . . but rather to make difficult . . . the plan for sending help to Finland’ as it would inevitably make Norway and Sweden hostile to the Allies.⁸⁰

By the beginning of February the Russians had renewed their attacks on the Finnish defences on the Karelian Isthmus with new units and improved tactics. The brave Finns were tiring and could not hope to sustain the resistance for long. After a few weeks, the Russians were approaching the ‘Mannerheim Line’, the final defences before Helsinki. In an attempt to avoid a disaster, Field Marshal Carl Gustav Mannerheim advised his government to opt for peace while still maintaining an impression in the Kremlin that an Allied intervention was an option.⁸¹

French impatience with what was considered British indecision was made well known through the embassy in London. Admiral Auphan later wrote: ‘It’s a little cynical to say so, but no one really hoped to stop the Soviet army and save Finland. The idea was to use the pretext of such an operation to lay our hands on the Swedish iron ore, and thus deny it to Germany.’ Paul Reynaud also goes a long way in his memoirs to say that an expeditionary force might never reach Finland, but still attain a major goal should it occupy the Swedish ore fields and halt the export to Germany. Seen from Paris, there were few reasons why the Allies should respect Norwegian and Swedish neutrality if this could avert a German attack on France.⁸²

The British Cabinet eventually agreed to submit yet another memorandum to Oslo and Stockholm, informing that Allied forces were all set for despatch to Finland, requesting co-operation during the transit through Narvik and Kiruna-Gällivare. Should this cooperation lead to hostilities with Germany, other Allied forces were being prepared for ‘extensive military assistance’. The Norwegian government would be informed when British forces were prepared to land at Trondheim, Bergen and Stavanger to pre-empt German intervention in western Norway. The memorandum arrived on 2 March, and when discussed by the Norwegian government that same afternoon, there were for the first time voices speaking in favour of accepting the Allied request. Nygaardsvold made it clear however, that as long as he was prime minister, ‘Norway would not voluntarily join the war.’ Nevertheless, there was a clear attitude between his ministers from this point on, that if the Allies would come, it would be vital not to end up in an open fight with British soldiers, driving Norway onto the ‘wrong side’ of the conflict. Koht tried to co-ordinate the official answer with Stockholm, but the Swedish government had already categorically rejected the request and the Norwegian refusal followed on 4 March.⁸³

The Allied military hardly registered the rejections. Général Sylvestre-Gérard Audet and his expeditionary force were standing by in France and most things were also ready in Britain. Major-General Pierce J. Mackesy, commander of the 49th Division, was confirmed as overall land commander and Admiral Edward R. Evans as commander of the naval force.

Chamberlain made it clear to the War Cabinet on the 11th that ‘it would be fatal to abandon the expedition altogether merely because we had received diplomatic refusal from the Scandinavians to our demand for passage.’ Churchill, with fewer reservations than he had two weeks earlier, did not think the landings would be ‘vigorously opposed’ by the Norwegians, but rather ‘a matter for persuasion and cajolery’. The reward was high in his opinion:

Once ashore we should have secured a valuable prize not only in the possession of about a million and a half tons of iron ore, but also in our occupation of the harbour which would be of the greatest use for naval purposes. Even if the railway had been sabotaged, our forces should install themselves securely in the port in the hope that ultimately we might persuade the Scandinavians to give us railway facilities for a further advance.

Things suddenly accelerated. Ambassador Corbin had earlier in the day told Halifax that Prime Minister Daladier would have to consider resigning unless the issue of aid to Finland was decided positively very soon. At the end of the meeting, the War Cabinet invited the CoS to consider the details of landing in Norway and to report the next day for a final review. Also the instructions to be given to the naval and military commanders were to be presented for approval by the Cabinet. Next day, caution prevailed and the Cabinet decided that Operation Avonmouth should be confined to landings at Narvik at first. Departure should be the next day, 13 March, and if things developed satisfactorily at Narvik ‘without any appreciable use of force’, landings at Trondheim could follow immediately, the ships standing by offshore. The forces for Bergen and Stavanger were not to be despatched until further decisions by the Cabinet, in order to avoid the impression of ‘a general attack’. In Oslo, Dormer was instructed to deliver a ‘formal and urgent request’ to the Norwegian government for the passage of ‘a force of Allied troops across Norwegian territory to Finland’ as soon as the news of landings at Narvik was confirmed.⁸⁴

The British commanders were informed in a meeting with the CoS and parts of the Cabinet later in the day that their objectives were to establish a force at Narvik and to render assistance to Finland, while ensuring that ‘north Swedish ore fields were denied to Germany and Russia for the longest possible period.’ The Norwegian reaction was uncertain, they were told, and the War Cabinet only wished the force to land ‘provided it could do so without serious fighting’. ‘Minor opposition’ could be accepted, even if it involved casualties; the British soldiers were only to fire back ‘as an ultimate measure of self-defence should their forces be in jeopardy’. How to recognise ‘minor opposition’ was not detailed. When the first ships reached Narvik the turn of events would depend on the reactions of the local Norwegian commanders and the Allied commanders’ interpretation of their intentions. General Ironside was certain it would be handled well:

General Edmund Ironside, the Chief of the Imperial General Staff. (Author’s collection)

We are now working away at this plan, which means we must be prepared for some sort of an opposed landing. I can see our great big Scots Guards shouldering the sleepy Norwegians out of the way at 5 a.m. in the morning. It seems inconceivable the Norwegians should put up any opposition if they are in anyway surprised.⁸⁵

In spite of Ironside’s optimism, Major-General Mackesy, who would be C-in-C in the field, was concerned that a dangerous situation might develop. It would take weeks before his largely untrained troops were at full strength. No roads existed into the mountains and the only connection from the coast to Lapland was the singletrack railway. This was electrified and there were few if any diesel or steam engines if the electricity was cut. Destruction of rolling stock and demolition of tunnels and overhangs would further hamper transportation eastwards. German retaliation could easily escalate beyond Allied capacity. The operation had all the prospects of becoming a dismal failure by having to turn back in the face of Norwegian opposition or worse, a quagmire of growing liability. Still, the embarkation of the British expeditionary force began in the morning of the 13th.

Meanwhile, the Finnish government decided the Allied offer of large-scale support was unrealistic and authorised its negotiators in Moscow to sign an armistice on 12 March 1940, to become effective the following day. Around midday on the 13th the news of the ceasefire in Finland broke and Chamberlain issued orders to suspend the expedition that afternoon.

In the War Cabinet the next day, the expedition was officially cancelled and orders for disembarkation of the soldiers issued. Churchill argued that the primary goal of the expedition, the Lapland ore fields, remained and insisted the landings at Narvik should still go ahead, lest Russia should seize the opportunity and ‘make her way to the Atlantic’. Ironside urged the Cabinet to keep the force assembled. Both were overruled by an obviously relieved Chamberlain. The majority of the troops were disbanded and sent to France, against the protests of the Daladier government, who still hoped for a second front. The French warships and transports, which had been ready in Brest and Cherbourg, were released and sent to the Mediterranean, while the legionnaires and Alpine troops returned to their billets. Only some twelve thousand special forces – British, French and Polish – were retained in northern Britain, ‘in case minor actions against the oretransport should become necessary’.⁸⁶

Operation Wilfred and Plan R4

In France, there was great bitterness over the Winter War and the government’s inability to help the Finns. On 19 March, Daladier lost a vote in the Parliament and his administration folded. The new government, formed two days later by the 62-year-old Paul Reynaud, predictably took an aggressive stance, eagerly supported by Général Gamelin. Reynaud wrote to the British Cabinet, stressing the need for a military initiative and proposed to intercept German shipping in Norwegian territorial waters, if necessary through occupation of strategic points on the coast. It was also suggested that a ‘decisive operation’ was launched in the Baltic, the Caspian or the Black Sea, with the aim of cutting Germany’s petroleum supplies and ‘paralysing the whole Soviet economy’. The note arrived in London on 26 March and created a storm of frustration, not least with Chamberlain, who read it as a direct criticism of his conduct of the war. In the Cabinet on the following day, there was broad agreement that the war should be fought neither in the Balkans nor in the Black Sea. On the other hand, a continued crisis in the French government would be disruptive and was to be avoided, even at the cost of Norwegian neutrality.⁸⁷

In early March, preparations for Operation Royal Marine – the laying of floating mines in German rivers and estuaries to disrupt commercial traffic – were reported to be near completion. The War Cabinet found the concept interesting, but it had, so far, been rejected by the French government for fear of retribution. In London on 28 March, at the first meeting of the Supreme War Council since Reynaud took over, Chamberlain strongly advocated Royal Marine, while brushing lightly over Reynaud’s repeated proposals for the Balkans. During the ensuing debate, which at times was quite heated, the British delegation vetoed any actions that could draw Russia into the war. The French were still sceptical about Royal Marine, but after some bargaining agreed to consider the concept – provided it was tied to a simultaneous mining of the Norwegian Leads. Chamberlain accepted this, as he expected it might draw attention away from the infringement of Norwegian neutrality. He did insist, though, that the Norwegian government should receive a warning a few days ahead of any mining.

It was agreed that by 1 April, diplomatic warnings should be submitted to Norway and Sweden, stating the Allies reserved the right to stop the German iron-ore traffic. Three days later, mining in German waterways would commence, followed by Norwegian waters on the 5th. One minefield would be laid in the approaches to Vestfjorden north of Bodø and one off Stadtlandet, south of Ålesund. A third area off Bud between Molde and Kristiansund would be declared dangerous, but no mines would be laid. Confrontation with Norwegian naval forces was to be avoided, but if the mines were swept they should be relaid. Parts of the Home Fleet would be available for protection of the minelayers, just in case. Churchill’s Operation Wilfred was finally on. Lawrence Collier wrote after the war that the intention was to ‘stop German misuse of Norwegian neutrality’. Before the meeting, however, Halifax told Ambassador Corbin that in British opinion, German violations of Norwegian territory had been neither numerous nor well documented lately and now that spring was approaching and opening the Baltic, actions in Norway would only have a ‘small interference with Germany’s import’.⁸⁸

The British decision-making process at this stage became imprecise and ambiguous. General Ironside and Général Gamelin met after the meeting, and the next day the British War Cabinet almost casually added ‘a British brigade and a French contingent [to be] sent to Narvik to clear the port and advance to the Swedish frontier in case of German countermeasures to the mining’. Plan R4, as the operation was called, would be activated when the Germans took the bait and ‘set foot on Norwegian soil, or there was clear evidence they intend to do so’ – although what evidence of German action was needed was not specified. Landings at Narvik alone made little sense to the CoS and part of the plans from two weeks earlier were put forward again while efforts were initiated to try to reassemble as much as possible of the dispersed Stratford and Avonmouth forces. Troops for southern Sweden were no longer available. This operation would be confined to Norway and, if necessary, Lapland.

Two separate but linked interventions were thus being prepared: the mining and the landing of Allied soldiers in Narvik, Trondheim, Bergen and Stavanger. The laying of mines was not subject to Norwegian consent and when the landings were added so casually, the political safety valve, which had been a prerequisite for the War Cabinet so far, was lost. The CoS concluded that ‘All preparations should be made for the despatch of at least one British battalion at the same time as the laying of the minefield, to be followed by the remainder of the force at the earliest possible date.’ Within parts of the military it appears Plan R4 was expected to go ahead without waiting for the Germans. Churchill told the War Cabinet on 29 March that it was necessary ‘to continue in a state of readiness to despatch a light force to Narvik and possibly . . . Stavanger’, but added that he ‘personally doubted whether the Germans would land a force in Scandinavia’. He probably kept the issue low-key on purporse so as not to raise objections and postpone Operation Wilfred once more. It is noteworthy that in the early morning of 31 March Vice Admiral Cunningham of 1st Cruiser Squadron was notified by the Admiralty that Plan R4 would be ‘put into operation [and] also Stratford, probably 3rd April’. Less than two weeks after they had been saved by the Finnish capitulation, Chamberlain and Halifax had lost control of events again. This time, they would not regain it.

General Ironside commented in a note to the CoS and the War Cabinet that ‘The projected operation in Scandinavia [has] a different political background from that . . . in early March when similar operations were contemplated.’ Apprehensively, he added: ‘From this beginning, we cannot foresee what may develop,’ and advised them to ‘have in hand a reserve’, pending German reactions, including plans for ‘the withdrawal of two to three divisions from France’.

On the request of the War Cabinet, the CoS issued a memorandum on 31 March, assessing various German reactions. The most that could be envisaged by the CoS was that Berlin might establish air and naval bases in southern Norway in order to take control of the minefields and attack British naval and air bases. Increased intelligence to detect German countermoves would be initiated, even if it were recognised that this might not be so easy.⁸⁹

On 8 April, the British Military Intelligence Branch (MI) issued a paper entitled: ‘The Possibilities of German Action against Scandinavia’. Based on the information available in the service departments and the Foreign Office, it concluded that the known disposition of German forces did not ‘support any probability of a Scandinavian invasion’. Limited operations on the Norwegian coast were to be expected to counter any Allied mining, but there was little advantage to be gained by Germany from occupying Denmark.⁹⁰

The French and British press printed, with remarkable indiscretion, reports of the Council’s meeting on 28 March, including stories of imminent Allied intervention in Norway. For once, Koht asked the envoys in London and Paris to investigate. Colban reported back on the 29th, after meeting Halifax, that he did not believe ‘the British Government had made any decision regarding actions in Norwegian territory’. Similarly, Minister Bachke in Paris reported that he could not see that any concrete actions had been decided, but a ‘test-campaign might be launched to observe reactions’.

On 2 April, Chamberlain gave a speech in the House of Commons, but avoided any mention of concrete actions emerging from the Supreme War Council.

[The] most important . . . weapon of our economic warfare is the employment of our sea power, and the Allies are determined to continue and intensify the use of this weapon to the full. His Majesty’s ships have already taken certain practical steps to interfere with the unimpeded passage of the German cargo ships from Scandinavia. These operations have been carried out in close proximity to German naval bases, showing once again how empty are the German boasts the control of the North Sea has passed into their hands . . . The House may be assured that we have not yet reached the limit of our effective operations in this region.⁹¹

Colban commented to Oslo that the prime minister had ‘carefully circumvented any revelation of the intentions of the government’. Other less diplomatic commentators concluded that Chamberlain’s words actually signified that an intervention was already being prepared.

Reynaud, who felt that accepting mining of the German waterways was but a ‘minor concession’ compared to swaying the British Cabinet into offensive actions in Scandinavia, went home after the meeting on the 28th to discuss the plans with his Comité de Guerre Français. The French War Committee, under the influence of Daladier, strongly supported the actions in Norway, but rejected any execution of Operation Royal Marine, and Reynaud had to inform London accordingly on 31 March. Frustrated over what he considered French manipulation, Chamberlain told Ambassador Corbin, ‘no mines, no Narvik’, and both operations were postponed.⁹²

On 3 April, Chamberlain discussed the status of the Norwegian issue with the Military Coordination Committee – of which Churchill had just taken over the chairmanship.⁹³ Intelligence of troop concentrations in the Baltic were given, but dismissed as German preparations to counter Allied moves. The French refusal of Royal Marine had stalled momentum but Chamberlain was acutely aware that a line had been crossed and ‘ . . . matters had now gone too far for us not to take action.’ If the French eventually turned down Royal Marine altogether, it would be necessary to ‘proceed with the Norwegian Territorial Waters Operation alone’. Churchill was asked to go to Paris to try to change their minds, while a personal letter was sent from Chamberlain to Daladier. It appears the persuasion worked better the other way and on 5 April Churchill reported back to Halifax that Reynaud needed room to manoeuvre and the French may be ‘right in wanting to postpone the mining of the Rhine until the French Air Force is strong enough to meet German retaliation’. To avoid a renewed political crisis in Paris, the War Cabinet later in the day gave in and accepted to ‘proceed with the Norwegian plans’. The date for Operation Wilfred was confirmed as 8 April. That this was close to Reynaud’s intentions all the time is difficult to ascertain, but easy to believe.⁹⁴

Available units were hastily assembled: the 24th Infantry (Guards) Brigade supported by French troops for Narvik and the incomplete 49th Division for Trondheim, Bergen and Stavanger. Norwegian-speaking officers were transferred from wherever they could be found and information on conditions in Norway was distributed to officers and NCOs. Though not officially acknowledged, there was little doubt among the men where they were going. The troops for the Narvik part of Plan R4 were assembled on the Clyde and instructed to commence embarkation of the transport ships in the morning of 8 April. They would leave later in the day, escorted by the cruisers Penelope and Aurora with Admiral Evans and Major-General Mackesy onboard the latter. Brigadier CG Phillips and two battalions each for Bergen and Stavanger were to embark the cruisers Devonshire, Berwick, York and Glasgow of the 1st Cruiser Squadron in Rosyth on 7 April. A single battalion for Trondheim would follow two days later. It was assumed these forces would be able to forestall potential German reactions until reinforced, even if they were short of A/A defences. Chamberlain demanded that if faced with other than token opposition, the landing forces should withdraw and the operation be called off. Mackesy’s revised instructions, dated 5 April, state that:

. . . It is the intention of His Majesty’s Government that your force should land only with the general cooperation of the Norwegian Government . . . It is not the intention that your force should fight its way through Norway. If Norwegian troops or civilians open fire on your troops, a certain number of casualties must be accepted. Fire in retaliation is only to be opened as a last resort. Subject to this, you are given discretion to use such force as may be required to ensure the safety of your command, but not more . . . You are to obtain further instructions from the War Office before entering Sweden.⁹⁵

The 2nd and 18th Cruiser Squadrons were to be kept ready as a ‘striking force’, at Rosyth and Scapa Flow respectively, and the Home Fleet would be ready ‘to deal with any sea borne expeditions the Germans may send against Norway’. None of the covering force would be at sea and all reactions depended on a timely recognition of German intentions.

On 4 April, the CoS submitted another memorandum to the War Cabinet informing that ‘Special arrangements have been made for obtaining from Scandinavia the earliest possible authentic information of a German move against Norway or Sweden. We have been informed of the details of these arrangements and are satisfied they should prove adequate.’ It is not detailed what the arrangements were, but as soon as information of German action was received in London, it would be forwarded to the War Cabinet, the Foreign Office and the service departments, including their sources in order to ascertain authority. Timing would be all important, and it was suggested that the Admiralty was empowered to initiate the departure of the troopships as soon as the first news of a move against Scandinavia was rumoured, however vague. It would take some twenty hours until the ships were off their Norwegian targets and they could be recalled at any time during this period should the War Cabinet decide the information was false or inadequate. Such pragmatism, which the Cabinet endorsed, makes the decisions made by the Admiralty a few days later to disembark the troops even more curious.

Part of the ‘arrangements’ referred to by the CoS in all likelihood included a handful of Military Intelligence Research (MIR) officers, clandestinely arriving at the legation in Oslo during 2 and 3 April. Nominally, they were to supervise the transit of remaining equipment for Finland. Actually they were to report status in Norway and to liaise with the Norwegian forces when R4 arrived. Captains Croft and Munthe came via Sweden, while Major Palmer flew in via Perth. The legation was instructed to give them all necessary assistance. Within a few days, Munthe continued to Stavanger, Croft to Bergen and Palmer to Trondheim. A fourth officer, Captain Torrance, went directly to Narvik via Stockholm. How these men were to detect German intentions regarding Norway before anybody else is not obvious.

The willingness of the British decision makers to engage in complicated and far-reaching operations with so limited preparations and so little knowledge of things Norwegian is startling – as is their lack of realistic analysis of German intentions. The degree of provocation necessary for Berlin to react seems never to have been debated properly, far less realistic scenarios of how the Germans might respond. All British (and French) thinking was based on traditional suppositions of moves and countermoves within given ‘rules’ of strength and mobility. That the new German war machine was operating under its own dynamics was yet to be revealed.⁹⁶

At Sullom Voe, the C-in-C of 2nd Destroyer Flotilla, Captain (D)2 Bernard Warburton-Lee wrote in a letter to his wife Elisabeth dated 4 April, after learning that he was to escort the minelayers to Vestfjorden: ‘. . . the war is going to start quite soon – I am going to start it.’⁹⁷ Not even he could imagine that German naval units were already preparing to take to sea.

Rubicon

During March, intelligence mounted in Berlin, indicating consistent Allied pressure on the Norwegian government to allow transit of troops to Finland and the establishment of bases in Norway. There would be protests, said the reports, but only nominal and no opposition would be offered. One report for instance, arriving via Scheidt, held that ‘a person close to both the King and Commanding Admiral’ considered a British intervention ‘unavoidable’ – and it would come ‘very soon’. Another agent reported with certainty that ‘England had requested right of passage through Narvik and a naval base in Kristiansand.’ Further reports alleged that Allied officers were surveying Norwegian ports with tacit Norwegian acceptance. In an unsigned report to SKL dated 5 March, it is stated that the Norwegian government had given in to French and British pressure and accepted ‘transit of Allied troops and the establishment of points of support’ on the Norwegian coast. It was part of the alleged agreement that the Norwegian government should deny the existence of any accord and should protest verbally against the Allied intrusions, as it had done during the Altmark episode.⁹⁸ Further reports of increased British air reconnaissance, agent activity in Norway, troopship concentrations in Scotland, French Alpine troops embarking ships in the Channel ports, the return of the British Home Fleet to Scapa Flow and heavy cruisers withdrawn from the Northern Patrol, augmented the picture: large-scale Allied landings in Norway were under development.

There was little doubt in Berlin that, in spite of the expressed grief over Finland, the real objective of the Allied landings was to sever the iron-ore traffic to Germany and capture bases in Norway. Hitler decided Germany would have to act ‘quickly and decisively’.

‘Full speed ahead for Weserübung,’ Halder noted in his diary on 4 March and the next day Hitler for the first time discussed Weserübung with all three service commanders present. Two days later, he declared that the occupation of Norway and France should be planned independently and that the disposition of forces, as suggested by von Falkenhorst, was final and no longer subject to change. To avoid any provocation, it would be necessary to inform the Russians prior to the attack and let them know that the occupation of northern Norway was only for the duration of the war with Britain.⁹⁹

‘Operations Order No. 1 for the Occupation of Norway’ was issued by von Falkenhorst on 5 March. Weserübung was ready to be launched, but the persistent severe ice conditions in the Baltic meant a number of the warships and transports were confined to port and there was growing concern that the Allied intervention in Scandinavia could be initiated any day. On the 6th, General Halder noted in his diary that it had been ascertained that the Allies had requested free transit of troops for Finland through Sweden and Norway, adding ‘the Führer will now act.’¹⁰⁰

In a status meeting with Hitler and von Falkenhorst on 9 March, Admiral Raeder held that in his opinion the current development of the situation in Finland made Weserübung ‘urgently necessary’. If the Allies were to use the pretext of helping Finland, as intelligence indicated, they would certainly occupy Norway and Sweden en route, completely severing the supply of iron ore and establishing offensive bases. Raeder added that it was his duty to point out that Weserübung contradicted all principles of naval warfare, as it would have to be carried out in the face of a superior British fleet. He was convinced, though, that the operation would succeed, if complete surprise could be obtained.

On 10 March, it was noted in the SKL War Diary that ‘. . . the totality of the reports point in a compelling manner towards the possibility of immediate action by the Allies in Norway.’ Radio intercepts during the 13th tracked no less than thirteen British submarines deployed in the North Sea and at the entrance to the Skagerrak, with two more underway from Rosyth. This was more than twice the usual number and a clear signal that something was going on. Most likely, the boats were covering the flank of an Allied landing operation in Norway that appeared from other intelligence to be developing. Nothing was ready on the German side and as news was coming in from Moscow that Finland had capitulated, it was decided to do nothing, other then alerting U-boats in the area to be extra vigilant.¹⁰¹

On the 15th, further intercepted signals ordering the submarines to disperse revealed that the Soviet–Finnish ceasefire had indeed upset the Allied plans. Interpretation of the signals indicated the operation was not cancelled, just put on hold with forty-eight to ninety-six hours’ notice. Oberst Warlimont concluded in a memorandum to Jodl that he believed the pretext for an Allied intervention in Norway had gone and that Operation Weserübung should be cancelled and the forces released. The SKL took a more conditional stance:

The consequence of the Finnish–Russian ceasefire for Germany’s warfare is as yet unclear. The Allied plans for an immediate landing in Norway . . . seem to have been deferred for the moment. The SKL believes England’s strategic goals in the north have not changed and the planned action will be initiated when another favourable occasion has been found.¹⁰²

At the Führer conference on 26 March, intelligence was presented showing how close an Allied intervention in Norway had been when the Finnish–Russian ceasefire was announced. Raeder added that even if the imminent danger of such an operation had been reduced, the ultimate objective of the Allies to sever the iron-ore supplies to Germany remained and an intensified effort against German merchant traffic in neutral waters was to be expected. Sooner or later, Allied plans for an intervention in Norway would re-emerge and Germany would have to carry out Weserübung. The operation had originated from the premise that Germany could not accept British control of Norwegian territory and that only a pre-emptive occupation could avert that. Therefore, Raeder suggested, Weserübung should be initiated in the next new-moon period and no later than 15 April. Everything was ready and the dark nights needed to cover the transit would soon become too short, increasing the overall risk to the operation. Virtually all operational U-boats had been deployed along the Norwegian coast or in the North Sea during March and would start running low on fuel and provisions in mid-April, thus closing the current window of opportunity. Sooner or later it would also be noted in London that other naval operations had been suspended. Earlier in the day, Raeder said, he had met with Hagelin and learned that the Norwegian Admiral Staff expected British naval forces to take control of the Norwegian Leads soon in a ‘staged provocation’, followed by seizure of naval and air bases in southern Norway. Hagelin believed that the Norwegian government would, at the most, offer only symbolic opposition. Careful as always, Raeder added that in spite of intelligence reports to the contrary, he personally was not sure an Allied intervention in Norway was imminent.¹⁰³ Hitler concluded that it was not to be expected that the Allies had abandoned their strategy in the north; threats of a German attack in France could trigger an Allied intervention in Norway. Hence, a preliminary date for Weserübung was set for between 8 and 10 April. The SKL, on Raeder’s instruction, issued orders that all ships should remain on stand-by and arrangements for embarkation of troops and equipment continued until further notice – as should all security measures.¹⁰⁴

In the evening of 26 March, Kapitänleutnant Wolf-Harro Stiebler lost his bearings during a snowstorm in the Skagerrak and ran his boat U21 firmly onto Oddskjæret, one of the southernmost rocks of the Norwegian coast, well inside territorial waters. The Norwegian government wished to make a stand and decided to intern the boat and its crew. A minor diplomatic crisis ensued, but Germany could not afford a disturbance at that moment and Kapitänleutnant Stiebler and U21 were sacrificed for the greater cause. He was ordered to escape if possible and that was it.¹⁰⁵

The news from the Supreme War Council meeting on 28 March was taken as evidence that it had been correct to assume that Allied interest in Norway had not lessened. In the evening of the 28th, the Naval Chief of Staff Fregattenkapitän Schulte-Mönting told the Swedish naval attaché in Berlin Kommendörkapten Anders Forshell over dinner that the political and military development in the north was ‘highly disturbing’. Germany feared Allied interventions on the Norwegian coast, in particular against Narvik, and with the Russians now having concluded the campaign in Finland, there was no knowing what they would do next. An ‘Anglo-Russian race’ for Narvik could not be accepted, and Germany would have to initiate countermeasures should this appear to become reality. A pre-emptive strike was far better than a belated reaction. The challenge according to Schulte-Mönting was where to strike and when.¹⁰⁶

The plans for Operation Weserübung were formally approved by Hitler on the afternoon of 1 April after a five-hour, detailed review of the operation in the Reichskanzlei, starting at 13:00 with ‘breakfast’. Von Falkenhorst and all senior navy, army and Luftwaffe commanders involved in the operation were present and Hitler talked to each one of the officers. According to von Falkenhorst, ‘He cross-examined every man, who had to explain very precisely the nature of his task. He even discussed with the ship commanders whether they would land their men on the right or on the left side of a given objective. He left nothing to chance; it was his idea, it was his plan, it was his war.’ Satisfied with what he heard, the Führer ended the meeting with a commanding appeal, underlining the importance of the operation for the conduct of the war.¹⁰⁷

The following day, 2 April, Hitler asked for assurance by Raeder, Göring, Keitel and von Falkenhorst that all preparations were completed and neither ice nor weather could create adverse conditions. This they all confirmed. Hitler then asked Oberst Erich Buschenhagen, Chief of Staff for Group XXI, as the corps had temporarily been renamed, what would be the latest possible date to cancel the operation. The baffled Buschenhagen, who had worked day and night for five weeks preparing the operation, had not given this much thought, but after some deliberation answered ‘Wesertag minus five’. The operation could be cancelled or postponed without risk until five days before the designated day of the invasion; after that, wheels would be rolling and the number of involved personnel with knowledge of what was happening would rise sharply.¹⁰⁸ Hitler gave the answer some consideration and decided the invasion should commence at 05:15, German time, on 9 April. The first supply ships would be at sea within less than forty-eight hours. At 19:17 on 2 April a signal was sent from the SKL to Groups East and West, C-in-C U-boats and C-in-C Fleet: ‘Wesertag ist der 9. April.’¹⁰⁹ A note was made in the SKL War Diary:

With the order from the Führer . . ., Weserübung has been initiated, commencing one of the boldest operations in the history of modern warfare. Its implementation has become necessary in order to defend vital German interests and supply of raw materials, which the enemy is attempting to sever . . . The outcome of the venture will to a large degree depend on the quality and the readiness of the naval forces as well as the determination of the individual officers in command. The landing operation will predominantly take place in an area where England rather than Germany has naval supremacy. Surprising the enemy . . . is important for success, and will depend on the extent to which, in the coming days, secrecy can be maintained . . .

And on 5 April:

The at times limited operational options of the German sea and air forces will improve significantly through an occupation of southern Norway. Germany now has the capacity to implement such an incursion swiftly. The basis for the operation will obviously be the loss of Norwegian neutrality to England and the total inability of the Norwegians to resist this loss.¹¹⁰

Acting Commander-in-Chief for Group West Generaladmiral Rolf Carls wrote in his war diary on 6 April as he was handing the command of the group back to Generaladmiral Alfred Saalwächter, returning to his own command in Group East:

The significance of this operation is not only to secure the ore supplies and to sever British trade with Norway, but to include the whole of Scandinavia in the German power-sphere . . . The British have to a large extent influenced the timing of the operation. A massive attempt from their side to forestall our seizing of the Norwegian harbours is to be expected . . . The risks associated with this task for the deployed surface units of the navy are well known to the SKL as well as to the Führer; [Raeder] has seen to that, in the same way as all group commanders have been made aware that the success of this operation, contrary to conventional, operative considerations, is based on secrecy, surprise, lack of Norwegian opposition and ruthless use of force to overcome all difficulties.¹¹¹

The multiple set of motives behind Operation Weserübung is evident. Quisling set the scenario of a British intervention in Norway firmly on the agenda of the OKW in December 1939 and the decision to launch the operation matured over time, pushed by Raeder and Rosenberg and fuelled by a number of seemingly minor incidents. Gradually the question changed from if it should be initiated to when. After the Altmark incident, there was hardly any question other than when. Whether German intentions were aggressive or defensive has been argued at length since 1940. In fact it was both, or rather a complicated, multidimensional combination of several factors, some of which had aggressive and strategic rationale, independent of Allied dispositions, some defensive and tactical, intended to forestall perceived Allied intentions. Berlin had no direct knowledge of Operation Wilfred, but the German intelligence organisation Abwehr could partly decipher British naval codes and during the winter the build-up of an expeditionary force to Finland was duly registered. In addition, French and British press reported freely on plans for Scandinavia and both Churchill and Reynaud were rather loose-lipped about their intensions.¹¹²

In the war diary of the SKL, there is a note on 4 April, stating that in spite of official British assurances that no operations in the north are being planned, the SKL believe there is and conclude that ‘a race between England and Germany towards Scandinavia’ has developed.¹¹³