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The Dogs of War

Implementation

‘WESERTAG 1ST DER 9. April’ – ‘Weser-day is 9 April’, was the laconic entry in the war diary of Vizeadmiral Lütjens, acting C-in-C of the Western Fleet at 19:50 on 2 April. Hitler had taken his final decision a few hours earlier and the SKL in Berlin had just forwarded the information to key officers. Operation Weserübung was being implemented.¹

On 3 April, the head of Abwehr Group I, Oberst Hans Piekenbrock, met in utmost secrecy with Vidkun Quisling in Room 343 at Hotel d’Angleterre in Copenhagen. Questioning Quisling on the status of the Norwegian defences and their willingness to fight, a disappointed Piekenbrock got the impression that he had limited knowledge and was largely out of touch. Quisling was taciturn, almost sulky, and on this occasion apparently more so than usual. Two things the Norwegian was absolutely certain of: there were no minefields in the Oslofjord and the coastal forts would not open fire on their own initiative without explicit orders from the government. Large proportions of the senior officers, Quisling claimed, were members or sympathisers of his NS Party and would offer only token resistance once it was clear the intruders were German. He also (falsely) confirmed there were guns covering the entry to Narvik.

Piekenbrock did not reveal anything about Operation Weserübung, but it must have been clear to Quisling that something was afoot, all the more so as, two weeks earlier, Major Walter de Laporte of the Abwehr had contacted him clandestinely in Oslo, asking to what extent the Norwegians would oppose an Allied invasion.² Judging from his actions in the days to come, or rather lack of action, it is unlikely that Quisling realised his answers to both men would be tested within a week. He went back to Oslo by train over the weekend, unaware that the first of the supply ships were already at sea.

Quisling had been ill most of the winter and had been out of the public eye since his return from Berlin just before Christmas.³ He had played no role whatsoever in the German preparations for Weserübung. In Jodl’s diary for 4 April, there is a comment on the meeting and of an increased unease in the OKW that the defences in Norway might have been alerted. The SKL noted in its diary that there was little news of relevance to the navy in Piekenbrock’s report.⁴

On the same day, 4 April, a much better source of information would come to Berlin. The head of the Abwehr, Admiral Wilhelm Canaris, had unexpectedly shown up at the embassy in Oslo on 31 March, disguised as ‘Oberregierungsrat Fuchs’, partly to solve difficulties between the naval and Abwehr staff at the embassy, partly to inform his staff what was happening and to get a last minute update in person. Erich Pruck, the main Abwehr agent in Norway was in Narvik and could not get back in time. It seems therefore that Canaris focused on the personnel issues and did not discuss Operation Weserübung with anybody. Sensing he had missed something important when he returned to Oslo, Pruck took the Lufthansa morning flight to Berlin on the 4th – on his own initiative. Canaris was at first upset that he had come and concerned that Pruck might not get back in time, but mellowed when he realised that the Abwehr, through Pruck, could pass on vital information. Hence, Pruck was informed of the imminent invasion and ordered to brief key officers before heading back to Oslo as fast as he could.

First, Pruck met with Oberst Erich Buschenhagen and Oberstleutnant Hartwig Pohlman of von Falkenhorst’s staff. The two men were mainly interested in whether the Norwegians would fight or not; Pruck answered that in his opinion, based on extensive discussions with officers and politicians, they would. Their tactics would be to establish a defence with smaller units, utilising the terrain, pending mobilisation of the main forces and Allied help. A perturbed Pohlman claimed this contradicted other sources, but Pruck was firm; the Norwegians would defend their neutrality – also against the Allies, but with far less vigour and stamina. In particular there was, in Pruck’s opinion, reason to fear the torpedoes and guns of the coastal forts. Though old, they had a considerable sting, and he was certain they would be used. The conversation ended with Pohlman informing Pruck he would come to Oslo in the afternoon of the 8th, ahead of the invasion forces. Pruck promised him all possible help and wished both men good luck. He than hastened to meet General Dietl, who was to lead the troops landing at Narvik. Having been to that city only a few days earlier, Pruck was a unique source of information for the general, adding details to the map of Narvik and its defences. In particular, the information that he had seen the two panserships Norge and Eidsvold at anchor in the harbour was important. Pruck had not met Oberst Sundlo, the Norwegian commander of the garrison in Narvik, but he could confirm that he was definitely pro-German and that Berthold Benecke, the other Abwehr agent in Oslo, held him in high esteem. Whether Sundlo would open fire on a German invasion force, Pruck could not tell.

Having completed his round of briefings, Pruck headed for Tempelhof airport to take the Lufthansa flight back to Oslo, while it was still possible.⁵

In the early afternoon of Friday 5 April 1940, Rittmeister Friedrich ‘Rudi’ Eickhorn of the 69th Infantry Division reported to his regiment in Stettin on the German Baltic coast. The captain was a reserve officer and acting commander of the Radfahrschwadron of the Aufklärungs Abteilung 169.⁶ Arriving at the regiment, Eickhorn had to take an oath of secrecy before being given a short outline of Operation Weserübung and informed that he and his squadron would be landed less than four days later in Egersund on the south-western coast of Norway. They would come as friends, to assist the Norwegians against Allied aggression, but should nevertheless take control of the town and secure the landfall of the telegraph cable to Peterhead in Scotland. A briefcase, containing orders, a few maps and some intelligence information, was handed over with orders not to let it out of sight until the mission was accomplished. The astounded Eickhorn left the regiment with mixed feelings. He was pleased that something was happening, but not so sure the Norwegians would be overly enthusiastic about receiving assistance not asked for. Eickhorn went back to his barracks and, locking the door to his office, started studying the maps. His unit would be a tiny part of the invasion, but the success here was as important as the rest of the operation.⁷

Rittmeister Friedrich ‘Rudi’ Eickhorn, acting commander of the Radfahrschwadron of the Aufklärungs Abteilung 169 of the 69th Infantry Division. (Dalane Folkemuseum)

When Oberleutnant Hans Taraba, commander of 7th Company IR 193 was ordered to march towards the railway station at Neustettin with all his men and equipment, he was sure it was serious and not another exercise. At the station, the C-in-C of the regiment, Oberst Karl von Beeren was waiting and asked jovially:

‘Well, Taraba, where do you think we are going?’

‘Scandinavia, Herr Oberst,’ answered the lieutenant willingly.

Von Beeren, who knew the regiment would be heading for Stavanger and Bergen, laughed although he must have been shocked at the clear-sightedness of his young officer: ‘Why do you think so?’

‘The Altmark affair,’ he replied, to which the oberst answered, ‘Ah well, it could just as likely be Scotland, could it not?’ Taraba was not so sure, but held his tongue.⁸

‘Weserübung is being implemented according to plan,’ General Jodl wrote in his diary on 5 April.⁹

For most Norwegians, a quiet weekend lay ahead. Heavy snowfall in the south had slowed the country down more than on a normal Friday afternoon and the weather forecast was not particularly good. For Foreign Minister Halvdan Koht, however, there would be no rest at all. The British and French embassies had jointly asked Koht to receive their respective ministers the same evening. Arriving around 19:00, the British Minister Cecil Dormer and the French Minister Comte de Dampierre handed Koht a joint memorandum from their governments.¹⁰ It was a harsh note, claiming that events over the last few months had shown that the Norwegian government was under pressure from Berlin and unable to act independently. Furthermore, Britain and France could no longer accept the continuous flow of supplies to Germany from the Scandinavian countries. It was therefore necessary to ‘notify the Norwegian government frankly of certain vital interests and requirements, which the Allies intend to assert and defend by whatever measures they may think necessary’. Five points followed. The first four were of general character. The last held that the Allied governments were waging war on behalf of the smaller, neutral states and could not accept any advantages for Germany whatsoever. There was no reference to iron ore or any specific demands, but the note concluded that the Allies considered it within their rights,

. . . to take such measures as they may think necessary to hinder or prevent Germany from obtaining from those countries’ resources or facilities which for the prosecution of the war would be to her advantage or the disadvantage of the Allies. . . . The shipping of Norway, Sweden and other neutral countries is attacked and destroyed almost daily by German submarines, mines and aircraft, in defiance of international law and with deliberate disregard for the loss of life involved. The Allies will certainly never follow this example of inhumanity and violence, and when the successful prosecution of the war requires them to take special measures, the Norwegian Government will realise why they do so . . . and the Allied Governments feel confident that this fact will be duly appreciated in Norway.¹¹

Koht was shaken. He had little doubt that this was a warning of imminent naval intervention in Norwegian waters, most likely to provoke a German response. Most of the content of the note was ‘uncalled for’ he told the ministers angrily, particularly the allegations that Norway was commercially and politically under German control and he found the language ‘disdainful, unworthy of His Majesty’s government’. Himself distressed by the note and by Koht’s reaction, Dormer meekly defended his government by claiming the words were directed towards Germany more than Norway.

Koht did not think so. Colban commented from London that he ‘believed the note to be directed mainly at the internal criticism against the Allied governments and their lack of initiatives in the war’ and ‘considered the matter with some ease’, but this did not help much. The Allies had given themselves carte blanche to proceed at will in Norwegian waters and from this point on, Koht was preoccupied with the threat of Allied aggression. The uncertainty of what actions the Allies had in mind and what timetable they worked to only increased the anxiety. Mounting evidence of a parallel threat developing on the German side was dismissed.¹²

After seeing the Allied ambassadors off, Koht left his office to dine in the US Legation. It does not appear that he even considered informing the prime minister or the other members of the government, far less the Foreign Affairs Committee. Koht arrived late and excused himself to Mrs Harriman, saying that the day ‘had been the most nerve-racking of his official life’. He did not go into any detail, but the American envoy noticed that ‘his face was drawn’ and ‘sensed that the day really had been more tense than usual’.¹³

On that same evening, the German minister Dr Curt Bräuer entertained a large number of Norwegian politicians, civil servants and officers at an official reception in the German Embassy. The invitation was at short notice and some of the invitees (among them Koht), excused themselves. More than 200 guests came, including Commanding General Laake and several officers of the General Staff. Ministers and officials were present too, as well as a large press corps. Nobody knew why they were there, but after a rich supply of snacks and drinks, the surprise was revealed: there was a film to be shown! Titled ‘Feuertaufe’ or ‘Baptism of Fire’, the reel had come from Berlin that same day with orders for it to be shown as soon as possible to a selected audience. To everybody’s embarrassment it turned out to be a propaganda film from the conquest of Poland, covering the bombing of Warsaw in particular. Accompanied by Wagner’s music it showed in ghastly detail what happened to the Polish capital – according to the commentator ‘thanks to the intervention of their English and French friends’. The concluding scene was a map of Britain going up in flames. After the show there was a long silence, before quiet conversations began on any topic other than what they had just seen. Most of the guests excused themselves and left as soon as they could.¹⁴ It had been an unpleasant and tactless demonstration of power that few believed had been unintentional.

Next morning, Saturday 6 April, Koht gave an account to the Parliament of the political situation. There was a great public interest for the meeting and the public galleries were crowded. For over an hour the foreign minister elaborated the international situation, concluding that the Norwegian will to remain neutral had not faltered and, surprisingly, added that ‘None of the belligerents had attempted to drive Norway away from this policy.’ He ended his speech by stating that ‘Employing all available resources to defend Norway’s national independence is a duty to our country and to the future.’ Nobody in the Parliament disagreed and the customary debate was not prompted. Koht mentioned neither the warnings from Berlin nor the Allied note nor any of the other threats received during the week. Later he wrote that he had believed it would be ‘inappropriate’ to reveal ‘what had been given to him in confidence’ as he did not wish to ‘frighten the public’. Unknown to Koht, several European papers reported the contents of the Allied note that morning and the news was in the Norwegian newspapers by lunchtime.¹⁵

After the orientation, Koht at last informed the government of the note he had received the night before, but made it clear that he would handle this alone, as usual, and there was no need for the others to worry. Minister of Finance Oscar Torp did worry and insisted the Neutrality Watch should be strengthened around the Oslofjord immediately. Nygaardsvold asked him to discuss the matter with Ljungberg to see what could be done. Eventually nothing was. Unbelievably, neither Koht nor Ljungberg brought up the reports from Berlin and Copenhagen and when Carl Hambro, the president of the Parliament and chairman of the Foreign Affairs Committee, called Koht in the afternoon to ask what was going on and why he had not been informed of the Allied notes, he was curtly assured that everything was under control and the Foreign Office would handle matters.¹⁶ Nobody in the government or the Parliament had the slightest notion that Operations Weserübung and Wilfred were both already under way.

At Tirpitzufer in Berlin, the SKL officer on duty over the weekend entered in the war diary that Koht had stated in the Norwegian Parliament that the goal of his policy was ‘sustained Norwegian neutrality’.

[There is] heightened tension in most countries over the development of the Norway issue . . . [but] there is no evidence that the Allies have recognised Germany’s strategic intentions. At least, they do not grasp the dimensions of the operation. The measures of the enemy indicate . . . that he himself is very close to initiating his own actions in Norwegian waters. As he is undoubtedly aware of German preparations of some kind and will anticipate immediate German reactions, we must expect him to be well prepared to defend his own forces. How far in its preparations the enemy is, or if this operation has already been initiated, is not known. The SKL is, however, of the opinion that the launch of Weserübung is now highly urgent. 9 April appears to be the last possible date for the operation.¹⁷

How right he was – and how wrong. Operation Wilfred was indeed underway. Commander King-Hartman had taken the minelayer Teviot Bank to sea from Scapa Flow in the morning of 5 April, before the warning note was delivered in Oslo. Escorted by the 3rd Destroyer Flotilla led by Captain (D)3 Percy Todd onboard Inglefield with Isis, Imogen and Ilex in company, Force WS was heading for Stadtlandet to lay the southernmost of the two real Wilfred minefields.

Later that same day, Vice Admiral Commanding Battlecruiser Squadron William ‘Jock’ Whitworth took to sea from Scapa Flow onboard Renown (Captain CEB Simeon), screened by the destroyers Greyhound, Glowworm, Hero and Hyperion. The intention was to meet up with Birmingham, Fearless and Hostile, who were hunting German fishing vessels, off Lofoten on the evening of the 7th. British intelligence believed all four Norwegian panserships were at Narvik and it was hoped the presence of a deterrent force might prevent a confrontation with the minelayers. In the morning of the 6th, Captain J Bickford of the 20th Destroyer Flotilla fell in with his four mine-laying destroyers Esk, Ivanhoe, Icarus and Impulsive (Force WV), carrying sixty mines each for the Vestfjorden minefield, escorted by Hardy, Hunter, Havock and Hotspur of the 2nd Destroyer Flotilla under the command of Captain (D)2 Bernard Warburton-Lee.¹⁸

In view of the potential situation that might arise from swift German reaction to the mine-laying, it is difficult to understand why the Admiralty did not order at least parts of the Home Fleet to sea. From a central position north of the Bergen–Shetland Narrows, both mine-laying operations could have been covered against German reactions without exposing the ships to the Luftwaffe.

In the early morning of 6 April, Lieutenant Commander Gerard Broadmead Roope of Glowworm reported losing a man overboard, asking for permission to search for him in spite of the worsening weather.¹⁹ Permission was given and Glowworm turned back, rapidly losing sight of the rest of the force, which shortly after changed course further to the north. After several hours searching, Roope decided there was no hope of finding the sailor and attempted to rejoin Renown. Being under strict radio silence, this turned out to be an impossible task. Eventually, Roope realised he was on his own and set course back towards Scapa Flow to receive new orders.

HMS Glowworm. 1,350 BRT, overall length 323 feet (98.5 metres) and a normal complement of 145 men. Her maximum speed was thirty-six knots. Armament was four single 4.7-inch guns and two quadruple 0.5-inch A/A guns. She was in addition fitted with two experimental five-tube torpedo mountings. (Wright and Logan)

Hyperion and Hero were both low on oil and were sent back to Sullom Voe for refuelling when the minelayers had joined up. Admiral Whitworth expected Glowworm to catch up and counted on his screen to have been enhanced by Birmingham and consorts by the time the mine-laying force would be detached. Hyperion and Hero were instructed to look for Glowworm and give her an update on Renown’s last position and course, should they come upon her. On midday of the 5th, Birmingham received instructions for a rendezvous with Renown off Vestfjorden in the evening of the 7th. Delay in the transfer of prize crews to several captured trawlers and a heavy head-sea, however, prevented Captain Madden from complying.²⁰

Meanwhile, Glowworm was close enough to Scapa Flow for Roope to break radio silence and ask for orders. At 11:43, a signal was received from C-in-C Home Fleet with Renown’s estimated position and orders to turn back and look for her. During the evening, a supplementary signal was received from Renown with her anticipated position next morning.²¹

Departures

Having a long way to go, the German transport ships destined for Narvik, Rauenfels, Bärenfels and Alster, departed Brunsbüttel at 02:00 on 3 April. In the afternoon, the tanker Kattegat followed. Over the next several days, the freighters Main, Sao Paulo, Levante and the tanker Skagerrak departed for Trondheim, followed by Roda for Stavanger. Some fifteen other vessels departed Lübeck and Stettin, heading for the southern Weserübung ports, packed with soldiers of the 69th and 163rd IDs and a large amount of provisions and heavy military equipment. Officially these ships brought supplies to east Prussia, which had been isolated by floods, but once out of sight from land they turned west for the Danish Belts. At the German supply base Basis Nord near Murmansk, the 12,000-ton tanker Jan Wellem received orders to leave during the evening of 6 April and relocate to Narvik where further orders from the German consul would be received.²²

Loading guns for Stavanger onboard Mendoza in Stettin. (Author’s collection)

Transport group ‘Karl’ leaving Stettin in the afternoon of 6 April heading for Kristiansand. Photo is taken from Kreta with Westsee, August Leonhardt and Wiegand following. (Author’s collection)

In the morning of 7 April a further eleven ships left Gotenhafen, scheduled to arrive in Oslo in the days following the invasion with further provisions and soldiers of the 196th ID. None of the vessels except Jan Wellem were to enter Norwegian ports prior to Weserday. The transport ships were a constant source of worry for the SKL. Security was not properly maintained during their loading and any incident they might become involved in at sea could potentially compromise the operation. Originally, the ships were to carry equipment and provisions with a minimum of troops onboard. During the last few days before departure, however, to the surprise of the navy, a large number of soldiers arrived to be transported to the invasion ports on orders from Group XXI.

On the evening of the 7th, Kontreadmiral Carsten Tank-Nielsen, commander of SDD2 in Bergen, called the Admiral Staff in Oslo, informing Chief of Staff Corneliussen that during the last few days an unusual number of German ships had entered the Leads south of Haugesund asking for pilots in Kopervik. German ships – in particular ore ships – were normal, but these were different. They had all been inspected, but most carried deck-loads of coal concealing the hatch-covers and the holds could not be accessed. The captains claimed to be heading for Murmansk, but what the coal should be used for there, nobody knew. Papers looked simplified or defective. No guns, ammunition or other military equipment had been found, but in the rooms inspected, the ships carried large amounts of food and supplies in crates marked Wehrmacht. In some cases captains and cargo-masters refused inspection of rooms, referring to ‘orders’. Tank-Nielsen found the activity suspicious and told the Chief of Staff he feared it might be an indication that the Germans ‘were up to something’. Corneliussen did not share his worries, but told him to ‘keep an eye on things’. Not very reassured, Tank-Nielsen ordered his officers to track the movements of the German ships and observe ‘increased preparedness until further notice’. It was left to each captain to interpret what this meant.

Bärenfels and Main were among the last ships of the first wave to arrive at Kopervik on 6 April asking for clearance and a pilot. By now, there were no pilots left and they had to wait, against the protests of their captains. The tankers Skagerrak and Kattegat for Trondheim and Narvik respectively, were also delayed and it seemed unlikely they would be in place in time to refuel the destroyers, causing deep concern in Group West. On 6 April, Naval Attaché Schreiber paid a visit to the Admiral Staff, complaining about recent delays to German merchant ships caused by extensive inspections. They were all in perfect order, he claimed, and there was no reason not to let them pass, but he offered no explanation as to why they were in such a hurry. Kontreadmiral Tank-Nielsen was not informed of Schreiber’s visit and it seems nobody in Oslo drew any conclusions worth mentioning.²³

Befehlshaber der Unterseeboote (Commader of the Submarine Fleet), Konteradmiral Karl Dönitz had forty-eight U-boats in commission in April 1940; nine less than on the day hostilities commenced. During the first week of March, most U-boats had been withdrawn from the Atlantic. As soon as service, replenishment and rest for the crews had been completed, they were sent into the North Sea with orders to observe absolute radio silence and attack only warships or obvious troop convoys. Few results were obtained and four of the boats were lost, including the grounded U21. At the confirmation of Operation Weserübung on the 2nd, a total of thirty-two boats were at sea; fourteen Type VII and Type IX boats from Stadt and northwards and eighteen Type II boats in the Skagerrak and the North Sea. At 20:30 on the 6th, a signal from Dönitz to all U-boats contained the codeword ‘Hartmut’, indicating that sealed envelopes with orders written on water-soluble paper should be opened. The envelopes contained detailed orders for all boats to move into new positions along the Norwegian coast, taking care not to reveal their new positions. Allied warships and troop transports could still be attacked, but Norwegian or Danish ships should be left alone.²⁴

From London, Vice Admiral (Submarines) Max Horton issued similar orders to his boats in the Skagerrak and Kattegat. German warships could be attacked but otherwise the boats should conceal their presence as much as possible. Merchant ships should be left alone – unless German warships and transports were encountered together, in which case it would be most important to attack the transports. Lieutenant Commander Bryant of Sealion found this order challenging and wrote in his diary on the 7th:

Some 25 merchant vessels were sighted during the day, mostly northbound. Some were suspicious, but none that I could say definitely were German transports . . . One small ship marked Estonia had a funnel corresponding to that of Saaberk Co of Hamburg. Five ships had no flags or markings, three being greyish. It was not possible to surface and investigate them so no action was taken. I was much concerned that I might be letting enemy ships by owing to taking no action. On the other hand, orders received conveyed the impression that it was essential not to compromise my position. The definition of a ‘transport’ was not clear in my mind.²⁵

Due to improved signal discipline, German sigint had problems tracking the submarines compared to a few weeks earlier and was largely unaware of their number and whereabouts. Except for Trident, who had already stopped and examined several neutral merchant ships off Lista on the 4th and 5th, and Unity, who had made an unsuccessful attack on a U-boat in the Helgoland Bight on the 5th, there had been few indications of where the submarines were hiding. Based on the amount of land-based radio traffic, however, the B-Dienst estimated that some fifteen to twenty submarines were at sea.²⁶ This number worried the SKL, as it might indicate that the Allies were aware of Operation Weserübung and preparing a trap. On the other hand, it might be that the large number of submarines was a defensive measure for their own operation against Norway, as in March. Either way, the submarine alert was heightened and preparation for increased air and sea protection of the transfer convoys was ordered.²⁷

Hellmuth Guido Alexander Heye (1895–1970), captain of the heavy cruiser Admiral Hipper. (Author’s collection)

The 45-year-old Kapitän zur See Hellmuth Heye of the heavy cruiser Admiral Hipper was in charge of Kampfgruppe II, the warships for Trondheim. The 18,200-ton Hipper was the first of her class and extensive trials and modifications followed her entry into service a year earlier. Except for an uneventful sortie together with Scharnhorst and Gneisenau in February, Hipper had largely spent the winter in Wilhelmshaven until 20 March, when ordered to Cuxhaven in preparation for Weserübung. Also assigned to Group II were the destroyers of the 2nd Destroyer Flotilla: Paul Jacobi, Theodor Riedel, Bruno Heinemann and Friedrich Eckholdt under the command of Fregattenkapitän Rudolf von Pufendorf onboard Jacobi.²⁸ Heye wrote:

I was, as the other group commanders, well aware of the magnitude of the task and the risk for the Kriegsmarine associated with this mission. In order to maintain security, it would be difficult to obtain intelligence and thus ample opportunities to end up in an unexpected situation, such as encountering the enemy at the start of the operation, running into a parallel enemy operation at the target, weather complications, missing resupplies etc. I compiled my considerations in an order for the ships of Group II . . . so that if something unexpected should happen, it would be possible to initiate swift countermeasures without long orders . . . The targets were ranked according to their priority, and the captains made aware of their priorities.²⁹

During the afternoon of 6 April, the embarkation of soldiers commenced under the supervision of Hipper’s first officer, Korvettenkapitän Wegener, and his assistant, Kapitänleutnant Piontek. The troop trains were shunted into the closed-off Amerika-Kai and 1st and 3rd Battalions of the 138th Mountain Regiment, most of 83rd Pioneer Unit, a battery of mountain artillery as well as regimental staff, intelligence and communication personnel, naval artillerymen and anti-aircraft gunners climbed the gangways. In all there were seventeen hundred men: nine hundred onboard Hipper and two hundred onboard each destroyer.³⁰ The commander of the 138th Regiment, Oberst Weiss, was welcomed onboard Hipper by Heye, but he would have no say in the operation until back on dry land in Trondheim. Heye was very careful that all explosives, ammunition, fuel and other dangerous items were stored below deck. Extra space was made in the magazines by storing as much as possible of the ammunition for the ship’s guns in ready lockers. Explosives that could not be stored below the armoured deck were spread throughout the ship in small crates and boxes to minimise the risk from incoming fire. The troops were confined below deck with orders to remain there until permission to come on deck was given. Engine rooms and turrets would be off-limits at all times. No smoking would be allowed outside or in the doorways after dark. On Heye’s insistence, every soldier, few of whom had ever been onboard a ship before, was issued with a personal lifebelt. The medical staff of the cruiser was ordered to prepare as much as possible to assist the soldiers in fighting the inevitable seasickness.

The cruiser was ready at 22:00 GeT (German Time) and cast off while the tide was still high, waiting at anchor in the river Elbe for the destroyers. Some hours later, Fregattenkapitän von Pufendorf’s destroyers joined and at 01:30 on 7 April the five ships commenced navigating the narrow channel towards the sea. Shortly after passing the river mouth, Eckholdt reported overheating in the port propeller shaft and had to slow down. She was left behind with Riedel and ordered to initiate transfer of her troops to the backup destroyer unless the problem could be repaired in time for her to rejoin the fleet during the morning. Hipper and the remaining destroyers continued westward across the Bight towards the Schillig-Reede off Wilhelmshaven to join Group I. From this time onwards, until at anchor in Trondheim, the crew of Hipper would be at their stations – for reasons of battle readiness, but also to make room below deck. Secrecy had been absolute, and very few people onboard knew what was happening and where the ships were heading.³¹

Gebirgsjägers of the 138th Mountain Regiment onboard Hipper. (Author’s collection)

German destroyer Z21 Wilhelm Heidkamp. 1,811 BRT and overall length 123 metres, and a normal complement of 325 men. Her maximum speed was over forty knots. Armament consisted of five single 12.7-cm guns, four 37-mm guns and four 20-mm guns. In addition, she carried 8 torpedoes and up to sixty mines. (Author’s collection)

The ships of Group I for Narvik assembled in Wesermünde during the first week of April.³² The group consisted of the ten destroyers: Wilhelm Heidkamp, Erich Koellner, Wolfgang Zenker, Georg Thiele, Bernd von Arnim, Hermann Künne, Erich Giese, Anton Schmitt, Hans Lüdemann and Dieter von Roeder with C-in-C Destroyers Kapitän zur See Kommodore Friedrich Bonte onboard Heidkamp.³³ He would be subordinated to Vizeadmiral Lütjens at first and when detached would report to Admiral Saalwächter at Group West in Wilhelmshaven.³⁴ The commander of the landing troops, Generalmajor Eduard Dietl, also on Heidkamp, reported to General von Falkenhorst at Group XXI and would, in theory, not have any say during the transfer.

Bonte called a meeting at 09:00 on the morning of 5 April for his destroyer captains and their senior officers. For most of them, it would be the first time they received official information of Weserübung. The Kommodore referred to the orders he had received from Admiral Raeder, where it was said that the landing operations would take place under British naval supremacy and depended on secrecy, swiftness and determination to succeed. He added that when issuing the orders, Raeder had underlined to him that the German Supreme Command had known for some time that the Allies were planning an intervention in Norway. This was totally unacceptable and had to be pre-empted. The outcome of the operation was vital for the future of Germany as well as for the honour of the navy. The rest of the meeting was spent discussing operational details, including intelligence of the Norwegian forces and expected opposition. From Wesermünde to Narvik is more than 1,200 sea miles – 2,000 kilometres. Maintaining a constant speed of over twenty knots to reach the target at the designated time would put a severe strain on ships and men. Korvettenkapitän Hans Erdmenger, captain of the flagship Heidkamp must have been particularly uncomfortable. Not only did he have the Kommodore on his bridge, but also the general of the landing troops. His every move would be observed.

By midday on the 6th, Wesermünde harbour was closed off. Embarkation of the troops was to commence in the early evening and the captains were advised of their berthing places on the Columbuskai docks. All sailors were restricted to their ships and no communication with the outside was allowed. Dietl and his mountain rangers of the 3rd Gebirgsdivision had left their temporary barracks outside Berlin the evening before with only a few hours’ notice. In total secrecy they had been loaded onto trains that would take them northwards across the Lüneburger Heide during the night. The 138th Regiment went to Cuxhaven to embark on the ships of Group II, whereas Dietl stayed with the 139th Regiment, which went to Wesermünde. Arriving between 13:00 and 17:00, the three trains were shunted into the harbour area, where the soldiers were let into large warehouses to be out of sight. Later they were joined by small units of naval gunners, propaganda staff and intelligence personnel, arriving in covered trucks. Police troops kept all eyes away from the docks. It was obvious that something big was on and rumours flourished. A raid on English or French Channel ports seemed likely, as did attacks on Iceland and the Shetlands. The officers knew nothing and shrugged their shoulders when asked; ‘I hob kei Ahnung!’– ‘I have no idea!’ Few if any guessed Norway. Nobody mentioned Narvik.

Loading of the equipment started immediately. Ammunition was stowed in the magazines of the destroyers, as much as they could take, and the rest wherever there was room below decks. Large items, motorcycles, guns and crates were lashed on deck; the consequence of which would be deeply felt in the weeks to come. Around 20:30, as darkness fell, the troops started embarking with their personal equipment, two hundred men to each ship. To the surprise of the sailors, the soldiers had Edelweiss symbols on their caps and cuffs. The Gebirgsjägers were Austrians from the provinces of Vorarlberg, Kärnten, Steiermark and Tyrol – a rare sight onboard a ship of the Kriegsmarine. Including their general, few of the soldiers had seen the sea before, far less been onboard a ship, and they felt utterly lost. It would be a trip the survivors would remember for the rest of their lives.³⁵ The men were onboard within two hours and Bonte gave the order to cast off. By 23:00 the destroyers were moving down the channel from Wesermünde towards the Bight.³⁶

Kapitän zur See August ‘Curry’ Thiele had in early March received orders to prepare the heavy cruiser Lützow for a raid into the South Atlantic. Thus, in late March, Lützow lay fully stored and fuelled in Wilhelmshaven waiting for a suitable combination of moon and weather to depart when Hitler decided she should take part in Weserübung. Before going into the Atlantic the cruiser should lead Group V to Oslo. Raeder wanted Lützow in the Atlantic and did not like this at all. Hence, when the cruiser Blücher was released from the yard in late March he assigned her to Group V instead, making Lützow’s sortie independent of the Norwegian operation. Hitler intervened again, and on a request from OKW, decided Lützow should accompany Group II to Trondheim. There, she should land some four hundred Gebirgsjägers at Stjørdal before slipping into the Atlantic in the expected confusion, covered by the battleships Scharnhorst and Gneisenau.

Thiele took Lützow from Cuxhaven to Wilhelmshaven on 5 April to embark the Jägers and their equipment. The Fleet Commander Vizeadmiral Lütjens was not enthusiastic. Lützow’s cruising speed was twenty-one knots and her emergency speed would barely exceed twenty-four knots. If challenged by British forces, Lütjens would have to decide between leaving her behind or standing by. Kapitän Thiele was not much happier. Bringing the Weserübung troops to Trondheim would be a diversion and he was worried about having to join a large force of ships on a daylight passage of the Bergen–Shetland Narrows. In his opinion, it was bound to attract British attention and could easily compromise his breakout to the Atlantic. Should they manage to evade the Home Fleet, Thiele was still worried Lützow might not be able to keep up with the rest of the group entering the fjord and would receive the full attention of the alerted Norwegian coastal forts. Neither officer had any option, however, other than comply with orders.

At 15:00 on the 6th, only a few hours before departure, Group West was informed that cracks had been discovered in the base of Lützow’s auxiliary motor no. 1. The cracks could be temporarily welded but she would be unable to exceed twenty-three knots. An Atlantic breakout was out of the question without dockyard repairs, as was a passage through the Bergen–Shetland Narrows, and at 17:00 on 6 April, Raeder reassigned Lützow to Group V, where she would be less exposed. To catch up with the new assignment, Thiele had to depart immediately and in the small hours of the 7th, after a hurried embarkation of four hundred Gebirgsjägers of II/GjR 138 and some fifty Luftwaffe men, Lützow cast off, heading for Kiel through the Kaiser Wilhelm Canal. There was no room for the troops onboard the other ships, and to compensate for the loss of the men now going to Oslo, it was decided that all four destroyers of Group II should go to Trondheim rather than two of them diverting to Åndalsnes as originally planned. It was a small change, but one that would become significant a week later when British soldiers landed just there.³⁷

Scharnhorst and Gneisenau weighed anchor from Wilhelmshaven at 00:45 on 7 April.³⁸ After clearing the river mouth, course was set for Lightship F. The battleships would act as cover for Groups I and II and carried no troops. Following the conference in the Reichskanzlei on 1 April, where all the group commanders had met, there had been discussion over how best to deploy the battleships. Arguments were put forward that it might be better to send the destroyers alone to Narvik and keep the battleships south of the Bergen–Shetland Narrows in order not to draw the attention of the British fleet to Weserübung too early. Others suggested letting the heavy units move out with Group III for Bergen and remain in the North Sea so that the Home Fleet, when alerted, would concentrate on them and leave the invasion groups alone. The SKL eventually decided Scharnhorst and Gneisenau would be best employed in support of the groups for Narvik and Trondheim. Loaded with troops and stores, the destroyers would need protection against even light opposition. Should British cruisers meet with the battleships, so much the better as this would mean a certain German victory. Holding the battleships back in the North Sea would increase the chances of encountering superior British forces: to be avoided at all costs. The risk of alerting the Allies to Operation Weserübung two days before its implementation by allowing the battleships to take to sea was worth taking. Should they be sighted, it was even possible that the Admiralty would conclude it was another Atlantic breakout and concentrate their forces between Iceland and Shetland, an advantage for Group III following behind. For the 51-year-old Acting Fleet Commander Vizeadmiral Günther Lütjens onboard the flagship Gneisenau this would be a unique chance to show his abilities at sea.

Gneisenau and her sister ship Scharnhorst were the first capital ships of the new German Navy. They should have been armed with 35-cm guns, but the turrets could not be completed in time and three upgraded triple 28-cm turrets were mounted as a temporary solution. (Author’s collection)

Reaching Lightship F at 03:00, the battleships were joined by Kommodore Bonte and his ten destroyers and, not long after, the compact shadows of Hipper and two destroyers could be distinguished. A few signals were sent and acknowledged from darkened lamps and the newcomers fell in. The most powerful fleet the German Navy had mustered in over twenty years headed northwards at twenty-two knots.³⁹

‘No disturbing news,’ wrote General Jodl in his diary.⁴⁰

Gathering Storm

Dawn on Sunday 7 April found the fleet in calm sea between the Danish peninsular of Jutland and the German Westwall minefield. ‘Daylight Formation’ was ordered at 05:50 and the destroyers spread out in front of and around the larger ships steaming abreast some two thousand metres apart. Speed was increased to twenty-three knots. Eckholdt and Riedel rejoined the fleet during the morning, reporting everything in order.⁴¹ The soldiers were allowed on deck in the sunshine and marvelled at the ships and the sea. They were warned that in case of alarm they would have to hurry below, lest anybody (not even neutral ships or fishing vessels) should see there were soldiers onboard. The sea was exceptionally calm and few paid much attention to the ominous advice given over the tannoys on how to avoid seasickness. Everybody listened very carefully, though, when it was announced that their target was Narvik in northern Norway, to be reached at dawn on 9 April. Few had any idea where this was, and a scramble for maps ensued. Anticipating this, some of the destroyer captains had large-scale plastic-covered maps ready for the sailors to show the Jägers, and discussions continued throughout the day. Few had given much thought to the necessity of invading Norway and there was genuine relief when it was explained that they were coming as friends to ‘assist the Norwegians to deter Allied plans to establish bases in the north’.⁴²

Vizeadmiral Lütjens was worried about the calm weather and good visibility, which increased the risk of being sighted. British reconnaissance over Wilhelmshaven the previous afternoon had found the battleships and several cruisers in harbour and their departure during the night had been unnoticed. At 11:31, Group West informed Lütjens that some two hours earlier a British air-reconnaissance report had been intercepted, reporting ‘one cruiser and six destroyers with eight aircraft on course 350° at 55°30’N’. Luftwaffe fighters ahead of the fleet had chased off two Hudsons during the morning, but apparently not before some of the ships had been observed. Subsequent signals from Group West reported (correctly) that most of the heavy ships of the Home Fleet were in port or far to the south, and there appeared no imminent threat to the operation. Still, Lütjens ordered an increase of speed to twenty-five knots at 12:13 and an hour later to twenty-seven in order to get into the overcast weather ahead.

At 14:20, off northern Jutland, the alarm was sounded and the Jägers rushed below decks. Twelve Blenheims of 107 Sqn approached from cloud bands in the east at about two thousand metres. Hipper was easternmost in the line-abreast and received most of the attention. Dense flak kept the Blenheims at a respectful height and the forty-five 125-kg bombs dropped hit the water well away from the ships, making little impression on the Germans.⁴³ Action stations were stood down after less than half an hour, even if most ships kept the crews at their guns. A signal from one of the aircraft, intercepted by Gneisenau’s B-Dienst, read ‘Three battleships steering north accompanied by destroyers,’ and Lütjens took it for granted that the British now knew that a large German force was at sea. It was later confirmed from Group West that the Admiralty believed at least one Scharnhorst-class battleship was at sea. Increased signal traffic to and within the Home Fleet was registered, as was the departure of at least one cruiser squadron, but Group West – and Lütjens – remained unaware that British capital ships took to sea during 7 April. At 22:05, the SKL informed them that they believed, ‘The enemy has now recognised a northward-directed operation and will initiate countermeasures.’ Kapitän zur See Heye of Hipper commented in his diary that, based on the incoming signals, he expected British ‘counter-operations’ during the night from destroyers and submarines, but trusted the deteriorating weather would be to their advantage.⁴⁴

During the afternoon of 7 April a strong low-pressure system moved in from the Atlantic as predicted by the German meteorologists and the fine weather gave way to low clouds and showers.⁴⁵ Visibility was reduced to less than a mile and the sea started to grow under a mounting gale from south-south-west. Towards midnight the wind reached Force 8 to 9 and a heavy swell from aft developed. The destroyers were ordered to leave their anti-submarine stations and form two lines en-échelon to port behind the battleships, preparing for heavy weather. This formation would give the larger ships room to manoeuvre and open fire should an attack come during the night. Lütjens wanted to be well north of Trondheim by dawn and speed was set at twenty-six knots. All doors and hatches were battened shut, while traffic on deck was restricted. The German destroyers, never known for their sea-keeping abilities, began to feel the effects of the stern waves quite badly. The following sea gave the Type-34 Zerstörers weather helm, turning them port broadside onto the sea.⁴⁶ The helmsmen worked hard, trying to maintain course and position and often had to be assisted by engine manoeuvring. The Type-36 Zerstörers faired somewhat better, but onboard these too conditions became quite appalling. Pitching and rolling with a tireless malice, the bows dug deep into the seas, throwing tons of water over the low forecastle and open bridge, where everyone was soaked to the skin. As the storm increased, there was a real danger that the bow might actually cut under, and radical course and speed alterations became necessary, straining bridge and engine personnel to the limits. In the engine and boiler rooms, water was coming through the ventilator intakes, adding to steam leaking from flanges and connections. Damage and technical defects developed and as lighting-circuits often tripped out, repairs had to be carried out in semi-darkness or aided by unsteady torches. In particular, the electrically driven rudder engines were vulnerable and created constant emergencies when breaking down. Heidkamp had one particularly heavy sea crash into the no.1 boiler room through the fan intakes, temporarily extinguishing the burners and darkening parts of the ship. Onboard Hipper the chief engineer reported the rudder engine overheating because of the continuous adjustments, and requested less use of the rudder.

Increasing winds during 7 April made the sea rise towards the afternoon. (Author’s collection)

The larger ships were also affected by the heavy seas from astern. Speed was temporarily reduced to fifteen knots around 21:00 but this created problems for the fuel pumps of Scharnhorst and had to be increased again. Speed was thereafter kept between twenty-two and twenty-six knots during the night. As darkness approached, stern lights were rigged to help keep contact and avoid collisions. The destroyers were instructed over USW radio to do their best and to try to regain contact at first light if they could not keep up. It was imperative that the fleet was as far north as possible by dawn and it was better for some of the destroyers to find their way alone than for the landings to be delayed. On the positive side, the chance of being sighted by British aircraft was negligible.

The Jägers felt as if they had been thrown into hell. Trapped in a crowded, alien environment below deck, with an unbearable atmosphere, they sank into apathy, paralysed by seasickness and fear. The noise was infernal as the shrieking of the storm added to the racket of the fans and engines and the never-ending seas crashing over the forecastle. Everything loose was thrown about by the violent rolls. ‘Hold di fast!’– ‘Hold tight!’ – was the call. The next sea could be fatal if sleep or exhaustion relaxed attention. Arms and legs were broken, heads smashed and the medical personnel worked overtime.

General Dietl was one of the very few not affected by the storm, it was said. He stayed on the bridge of Heidkamp, next to Bonte and Erdmenger, virtually the whole journey, except for a few short naps. A feat that added nicely to the already long list of legends and anecdotes associated with his name. ‘We would never have risked this speed under such conditions in peacetime,’ commented Bonte. ‘Well,’ answered Dietl, ‘just get me there in time, that’s all I care about.’

Around midnight, the German fleet passed the latitude of Bergen. The wind increased further and some of the destroyers started to lose touch with the flagship. Rolls of over forty-five degrees were experienced during the night and most army equipment lashed on deck, as well as the ships’ own boats and depth charges, went overboard. Some of the latter exploded in the wake of the ships, creating yet another unwanted danger and tension onboard the larger ships – where it was at first believed the explosions were incoming shells. Moving about on deck was hazardous and, in spite of ropes strung on all decks, at least ten men went overboard from the destroyers between the evening of the 7th and the morning of the 9th. ‘Keine Rettungsversuche’ – ‘no rescue attempts’ – was the laconic order given. It would have been virtually impossible to rescue anybody from the corkscrewing ships anyway, even if they, against all odds, survived more than a few minutes in the icy water.⁴⁷

Back in Wilhelmshaven, Konteradmiral Hubert Schmundt, acting flag officer scouting forces in charge of Group III, considered Bergen the most dangerous objective of the whole invasion.⁴⁸ Groups I and II would be very exposed indeed, but unless the Royal Navy was already at sea, they would have a fair chance of escaping interception even though they most likely would be sighted. Group III would leave Germany some twenty-four hours behind Groups I and II and Schmundt expected to be confronted by fully alerted British forces. Bergen was only eight to nine hours’ steaming from Scapa Flow and securing the Bergen–Shetland Narrows would, in Schmundt’s opinion, become a British priority once it was clear that German ships were at large. It did not ease his worries either that all the large, modern units of the navy had been allocated to Narvik, Trondheim and Oslo. In particular, the disposition of several heavy ships in the Oslo group annoyed Schmundt, as he believed this to be for prestige reasons. Group III, on the other hand, in addition to the light cruisers Köln and Königsberg, had been left with Bremse, a gunnery training ship, the torpedo boats Leopard and Wolf and the depot ship Carl Peters with six S-boats (motor torpedo boats).

Konteradmiral Hubert Schmundt, acting flag officer scouting forces in charge of Group III. (Bundesarchiv Koblenz)

Bremse and Carl Peters both had cruising speeds of less than twenty knots, meaning the crossing would take about twenty-four hours, including a full day in the North Sea, increasing chances of interception and submarine attacks. Schmundt appealed to the SKL, requesting a swap of the two for Karlsruhe from the Kristiansand group in order to have a homogeneous force with a higher transit speed. His request was denied and he had to make do with what he had; Krancke at one stage remarked to Buschenhagen that Schmundt seemed to have lost his nerve. Schmundt contacted Generalmajor Hermann Tittel, C-in-C of 69th ID, to ensure that Bremse and Carl Peters carried as few as possible of the men absolutely needed on the invasion day. In case of problems, the slower ships could turn east and seek shelter in Norwegian waters or in the Skagerrak, while the cruisers and torpedo boats attempted a high-speed breakthrough towards Bergen after darkness, supported by the S-boats.

On 7 April, Köln, Königsberg and Bremse were at Wilhelmshaven, Carl Peters and the torpedo boats in Cuxhaven and the S-boat Flotilla at Helgoland.⁴⁹ It was forbidden to leave the ships from early morning, and telephone lines were barred. In the afternoon, the senior officers were informed of the operation and soon after the first troops started to arrive in small groups. The main embarkation started when a troop train was shunted into the enclosed area of the Hipperhafen docks as darkness fell. All men were onboard by 23:00, Köln having embarked 640 officers and men, mostly from I and II/IR 159 in addition to Generalmajor Tittel and his staff. Königsberg embarked a further 735 men, including Oberst Graf von Stolberg, commanding officer of IR 159, Vizeadmiral von Schrader, the designated commanding admiral for the Norwegian West Coast and their staffs. Onboard Bremse were 207 men, mostly from 8th Company IR 159, but also some police and guard units. Korvettenkapitän Hans Marks, commander of 6th Torpedo Boat Flotilla, was in charge in Cuxhaven, where the remainder of the two battalions embarked on Carl Peters, Leopard and Wolf. In all, some 1,900 soldiers were onboard the ships of Group III. Support personnel, field guns, heavy matériel, horses, vehicles, A/A guns and further provisions were onboard the transports Rio de Janeiro, Marie Leonhardt and Curityba, already at sea.

Light cruiser Köln. The 6,650-ton K-class cruisers were capable of well over thirty knots and armed with nine 15-cm guns, six 88-mms and twelve torpedo tubes. (Author’s collection)

Confined below decks, the soldiers were given a meal, followed by brief instructions of what to do and what not to do while onboard and advised to go to sleep. The cruisers and Bremse cast off at 23:10 and after passing through the locks headed down the Jade towards the open sea. Shortly after, Admiral Schmundt received information from Group West that the British had sighted Groups I and II, but it appeared that only light enemy forces had taken to sea so far. Carl Peters and the torpedo boats, having left Cuxhaven an hour earlier, had orders to join the flag in the forenoon of 8 April, west of Ringkøbing.⁵⁰ Meanwhile, the cruisers zigzagged northwards at twenty-three knots. By daylight, a handful of escort aircraft arrived overhead. There were (false) torpedo alerts on a few occasions, but after some quick turns the ships were back on main course again.⁵¹ To Schmundt’s great relief, the weather closed in during the morning with low clouds and rain, reducing visibility. Around 10:45, fog set in and visibility was reduced. The air cover had to give up and turned for home, but that meant little as no British aircraft or submarines could find them either. USW-radio contact was made with Korvettenkapitän Marks onboard the torpedo boat Leopard, but there was no visual contact. By 11:00, the end of the mine barrage was reached and course was set for Utsira at eighteen knots with Königsberg and Bremse in line-astern behind Köln. At one stage, Königsberg ventured too close to Köln and, evading to port, lost sight of the flagship in the dense fog. Contact was maintained by USW radio and Group III continued northwards. Twice, aircraft engines were heard overhead, but the German ships were safe inside the fog and not sighted. No further signals were received from Group West and there was little knowledge of what lay ahead.⁵²

Just after 05:00 on 8 April, the third K-class cruiser, Karlsruhe, under the command of Kapitän zur See Friedrich Rieve, left Wesermünde heading for Kristiansand, accompanied by the torpedo boats Luchs, Seeadler, Greif and the depot ship Tsingtau. Onboard were I/IR 310 plus staff, support personnel and naval gunners to take over the coastal forts – in all some 1,070 men. Konteradmiral Schenk, the designated commanding admiral for the Norwegian South Coast, and his staffs were also onboard. Passing Lightship D later in the morning, Group IV split up: Karlsruhe, Luchs and Seeadler taking a westerly route, zigzagging at twenty-one knots, while Tsingtau and Greif hugged the Danish coast at sixteen knots, the best the depot ship could do. C-in-C Torpedo Boats Kapitän zur See Hans Bütow was onboard Luchs and Korvettenkapitän Wolf Henne, commander of 5th Torpedo Boat Flotilla, was onboard Greif. They were prepared to take independent action if the flag faltered. Kapitänleutnant Rudolf Petersen’s 2nd S-boat Flotilla, also assigned to Group IV, was a mix of boats of different designs, which gave him operational challenges. He and his crews were among the most experienced ‘torpedomänner’ of the German Navy though, and would run independently towards the Skagerrak.⁵³

The last of the western groups to leave for Norway was Group VI. The 600-ton minesweepers M1, M2, M9 and M13 carried the 150 men of Rittmeister Eickhorn’s Radfahrschwadron, tasked with securing Egersund. Eickhorn and his unit had arrived at the port of Cuxhaven by train from their barracks near Stettin in the late morning of Sunday 7 April, were shunted directly into the closed-off harbour area, and loading onto the minesweepers commenced. No transport vessels were assigned to Group VI so all the equipment needed for the unit to survive until reinforcements could be brought in from Stavanger, had to be carried onboard the minesweepers. The tiny flotilla under the command of Korvettenkapitän Kurt Thoma of M9 left Cuxhaven at 20:30 and anchored off the island of Neuwerk, waiting for the appropriate time to head north. With forty to fifty additional soldiers onboard and bicycles, motorcycles, machine guns, crates and other equipment in every available space on and below deck, conditions were cramped indeed. While waiting, the sailors and soldiers were briefed on the task ahead. It was a huge surprise that Egersund and Norway turned out to be their target. The information that they would come as friends was encouraging, but few dared to hope the Royal Navy would stay at home. At 05:45 on the 8th, anchors were weighed again and course resumed on a flat sea with a light south-easterly wind. Later, Group VI met up with the minesweepers and minelayers of Groups X and XI, heading for Denmark, and the small ships travelled north together.⁵⁴

Kapitän zur See Friedrich Rieve of Karlsruhe leading Group IV. Behind him is the intelligence officer Düwal and von Schroeder, Rieve’s adjutant. (Kapitän Rieve’s photo collection via K Mæsel)

Blücher, the second of the Hipper-class cruisers, had been commissioned in September 1939. The subsequent harsh winter with heavy ice in the Baltic delayed her working-up, as did additional post-launch alterations and only on 30 March was she released from the yard in Kiel. Altogether, Blücher had only spent some twenty days at sea. Neither the torpedo batteries nor the 20.3-cm guns had ever been fired. The young crew had been assembled while she was still in the yard and they knew each other well, but few had experience from other ships – far less from war. The officers were also inexperienced and only a handful had been in battle. Emergency training, damage control and action-station drill were deficient or at best incomplete. Manuals were being implemented, except for those of the engine room, which were still being drafted. Nevertheless, Raeder wanted to free Lützow for her Atlantic sortie, and decided Blücher should join Group V for Oslo. The SKL saw no particular risk in assigning the new cruiser to this presumably simple task and did not protest. Thus the 47-year-old Kapitän zur See Heinrich Woldag was ordered to prepare for exercises in the Baltic with the light cruiser Emden as soon as he was ready. Emden was the oldest and least battleworthy of the light cruisers, but was seen as fit for the Oslofjord.⁵⁵

During the transfer to Oslo, Konteradmiral Kummetz would be in charge of Gruppe Oldenburg, reporting to Generaladmiral Carls of Group East in Kiel.⁵⁶ Kummetz embarked on Blücher with his staff in the afternoon of 5 April, heading into the Baltic in the company of Emden. Only Kummetz, Woldag and their senior staff officers knew what was going on. Docking in Swinemünde in the late morning of the 6th, preparations were immediately initiated with the staff of the 163rd ID for the embarkation of troops. A number of administrative, civilian and propaganda personnel came onboard during the day, as well as an advance party of von Falkenhorst’s staff. The embarkation of the soldiers commenced as darkness fell. Most of the equipment was stored on deck while the men made themselves comfortable in the confined, unfamiliar environment below. Few of them received any information at all about what to do in case of alarm. Due to the haste of the preparations, Blücher’s magazines still contained practice ammunition of all calibres. Because of lack of time and to avoid any questions, it was decided not to land this, but merely to stow the live ammunition on top. Thus, there was no room for the ammunition brought onboard by the soldiers, which was left up top; partly on deck, partly in the torpedo workshop and aircraft hangar.⁵⁷ Ten to twelve Marks floats, with room for fifteen to forty men, arrived the day before sailing after much pressure from Woldag. Kapok lifejackets also arrived late and were for convenience strapped to the guardrails along the superstructure decks.

Blücher left Swinemünde accompanied by Emden and the torpedo boats Albatros and Kondor at 05:30 on 7 April. First they steered east, but as soon as they were out of sight from land, they turned west, heading for Kiel. During the day, Blücher’s main guns were fired for the first and, as it turned out, last time with live ammunition; one round for each gun. Other types of exercises were held all over the ship, particularly focusing on battle drill and damage control. The Landsers, under protest, were kept below deck practising disembarkation drills.⁵⁸

Shortly before 21:00, the group dropped anchor in Strander Bucht off Kiel, alongside the heavy cruiser Lützow, which earlier in the day had come through the canal from Wilhelmshaven. During the stay off Kiel, the soldiers were only allowed on deck in small groups wearing navy garments borrowed from the sailors. Most of the men believed they were involved in some kind of exercise and found the masquerade quite funny. Waiting for departure time, Konteradmiral Kummetz invited captains, navigation officers and army commanders onboard Blücher to discuss the last details with Generalmajor Erwin Engelbrecht, commander of the 163rd ID. Engelbrecht would be in charge once the troops landed in Oslo and would be acting C-in-C until General von Falkenhorst arrived. For most of the officers this was the first they had learned of their mission.

Group V at sea in the Kattegat. The photo was taken from Emden, with Lützow ahead and Blücher in the lead. (Bundesarchiv Koblenz)

At 03:00 on 8 April, the group weighed anchor in darkness and headed north through the Belts. Blücher was in the van; Lützow, Emden, Kondor and Albatros followed. At 05:30, the torpedo boat Möwe also fell in, having spent the night at anchor further offshore. Almost 2,200 Wehrmacht personnel were onboard the ships of Gruppe Oldenburg. Blücher had embarked 822 men, Emden 610, Möwe 114, Albatros and Kondor about 100 each. Most of the soldiers came from 1st and 2nd Battalion of IR 307 but there were also staff personnel from Group XXI and 163rd ID as well as naval artillerymen, communication personnel, pioneers, war correspondents and ground crew for the Luftwaffe units to be stationed at Oslo-Fornebu. Lützow had 400 Gebirgsjägers and some 50 Luftwaffe men originally intended for Trondheim.⁵⁹

All ships were at sea and there was no way back.

Meanwhile, General von Falkenhorst and his staff moved from Berlin to Hamburg. Hotel Esplanade, where Generalleutnant Geisler of X Fliegerkorps had worked since December had been emptied of guests and on 7 April became the temporary headquarters for Operation Weserübung.⁶⁰

War of Nerves

The first report of German warships at sea reached Whitehall at 06:37 on 7 April, when aircraft sightings from the night before of a large, unidentified ship heading north at fifteen to twenty knots off Helgoland were logged. At 08:48, a Hudson of 220 Sqn reported ‘one cruiser and six destroyers escorted by aircraft’ on a northerly course off Horns Reef. This report only reached C-in-C Home Fleet Admiral Forbes at Scapa Flow at 11:20. Half an hour later, he received a supplementary signal from C-in-C Rosyth that the cruiser was ‘probably of the Nürnberg-class’. The shadowing Hudsons had been chased off, but bombers were on their way.

At 13:15, an entry in the Admiralty War Diary was made, stating air reconnaissance in the afternoon of the day before had confirmed Scharnhorst and Gneisenau to be at anchor off Wilhelmshaven while one pocket battleship, two K-class cruisers and one Hipper-class cruiser were moored at the various docks. Lützow was (falsely) reported to be in Stettin. German U-boats were operating near the Orkneys, while one was believed to be in the Bristol Channel and another in the Irish Sea. This outdated and partly incorrect information, together with the initial under-reporting of Groups I and II at sea, gave the Admiralty the impression that nothing untoward was going on.⁶¹ At 14:00 there was another brief entry in the war diary noting that a heavy cruiser, probably Blücher, had been sighted off Gedser on a westerly course, while C-in-C Rosyth reported three destroyers off Horns Reef heading south, apparently back towards Germany. At about the same time, Admiral Forbes received another signal from the Admiralty, where it had been issued over an hour earlier:

Recent reports suggest a German expedition is being prepared. Hitler is reported from Copenhagen to have ordered unostentatious movement of one division in ten ships by night to land at Narvik with simultaneous occupation of Jutland. Sweden to be left alone. Moderates said to be opposing the plan. Date given for arrival at Narvik was 8th April. All these reports are of doubtful value and may well be only a further move in the war of nerves.⁶²

Forbes later remarked that in the light of subsequent events, ‘It was unfortunate that the last paragraph was included.’ First Sea Lord Admiral Pound was out of office at Mountbatten’s estate near Romsey most of Sunday 7 April. The wording of the signal was that of the Deputy Chief of Naval Staff, Vice Admiral Tom Phillips – he had already warned Churchill and Pound a week earlier that the Germans appeared to be planning an operation of their own. Admiral Pound did not modify any of the actions taken or signals sent when he came to Whitehall around 20:00 that evening, so it must be assumed he concurred with what had been done. Nor did he take any initiatives to get an update of the situation or to verify the state of affairs with the other services or the CoS. Neither did Churchill initiate any modifications or initiatives when he came by later. It was incomprehensible to the Admiralty that Germany would try anything like invading western Norway – far less Narvik – across the North Sea. Such an operation would, it was believed, require ship concentrations well beyond the capacity of the Kriegsmarine. According to the diary of Captain Ralph Edwards, Director of Operations (Home), ‘The Old Man [Pound] was away fishing for salmon and arrived back rather late in the evening dead beat. DCNS [Phillips] was tired and the First Lord well dined. The result was they all failed to come to any useful decision.’⁶³ The day of 7 April 1940 is not one to be remembered with pride in the history of the Admiralty.

Only when the report of the Blenheims having attacked heavy German forces in the Bight arrived at 17:35 did Admiral Forbes order his ships to raise steam and prepare for sea.⁶⁴ At 20:50, Rodney (flag), Repulse and Valiant cleared Hoxa Boom and half an hour later reached open water, where a north-easterly course was set. The cruisers Sheffield and Penelope were in company as were the destroyers Codrington, Brazen, Bedouin, Electra, Eskimo, Escapade, Griffin, Jupiter, Punjabi and Kimberley.⁶⁵

About half an hour later, 2nd Cruiser Squadron under Vice Admiral GF Edward-Collins left Rosyth with orders to make a sweep into the North Sea and then join the Home Fleet. Besides the cruisers Galatea and Arethusa the force consisted of the destroyers Afridi D(4), Cossack, Gurkha, Kashmir, Kelvin, Sikh, Mohawk, Zulu and the Polish destroyers Grom, Burza and Blyskawica. Next morning they were joined by Somali D(6), Mashona, Matabele and Tartar.

The carrier Furious was at Clyde after a refit, and Forbes seems to have forgotten her in the general melee. It was not until 16:37 on 8 February that the Admiralty intervened, ordering Furious to re-embark her aircraft and prepare to join the fleet. It would be another twenty-four hours before her two Swordfish Squadrons (nos. 816 and 818) had been landed onboard and Captain Troubridge could take to sea. The carrier’s Fighter Squadron (no. 801) was at Evanston, too far off to comply in time and Furious took to sea without fighter aircraft onboard.

Vice Admiral Geoffrey Layton, commander of 18th Cruiser Squadron, was at sea with Manchester and Southampton, covering outward-bound convoy ON25 to Norway. During the afternoon, he was ordered by the C-in-C to turn the convoy back to Scotland and join the Home Fleet. It appears that Admiral Layton missed or misread parts of the signal from the C-in-C and, considering his orders inadequate, he stood off to the south during the night intending to regain contact with the convoy and its escort in the morning.

Left behind at Rosyth for the time being was Admiral Cunningham’s 1st Cruiser Squadron with Devonshire, Berwick, York, Glasgow and eight destroyers embarking troops and equipment for Bergen and Stavanger.⁶⁶ The cruisers Penelope and Aurora and six destroyers were at the Clyde, ready to provide cover and escort for the transports to Narvik and Trondheim.

Just before leaving, the German fleet was reported to consist of ‘one battle-cruiser, one pocket battleship, three cruisers and twelve destroyers’. Admiral Forbes took it for granted that updates would reach him once at sea, but the weather deteriorated rapidly, hampering the Hudsons from Leuchars, and he would have no further information until next morning. The course set by the Home Fleet upon leaving Scapa Flow would enable the fleet to intercept ships attempting to break out into the Atlantic, but left the central North Sea and the Norwegian coast uncovered. At 22:00, the armed merchant cruisers of the Northern Patrol were ordered to withdraw southwards, out of harm’s way. At 22:51, the minelayer Teviot Bank was recalled, and her destroyer escort instructed to rejoin the Home Fleet after refuelling. Admiral Forbes was preparing to meet an Atlantic breakout. During the night the fleet steered north-north-east at twenty knots and at dawn on 8 April passed 60° N, between Shetland and Bergen. By then the German fleet was some 200 miles further north-east, off Trondheim, widening the gap with every passing hour.⁶⁷

British Mines

When Admiral Whitworth arrived off Vestfjorden in the evening of 7 April, the minelayers and their escorts were detached according to plan at 19:00. They headed for Landegode, north of Bodø, while Renown, with only Greyhound in company, hovered to the west, some thirty miles off Skomvær Lighthouse. A signal was sent to Birmingham and Glowworm with estimates of intended position during the night and next day with orders to join forthwith. The minelayers reached Vestfjorden without incident and by 05:26 on Monday 8 April, 234 mines were laid as planned.

The Norwegian auxiliary Syrian was at anchor on the landward side of Vestfjorden that morning. The weather was poor with large swells and patches of fog. At 04:20, eight destroyers were observed well inside Norwegian territory. A little later, some of them were seen to commence dropping what appeared to be mines from their sterns. Kaptein Bjarne Kaaveland sent a preliminary radio signal to SDD3 in Tromsø while weighing anchor and headed for the lead destroyer. The signal ‘Neutral Territory’ was hoisted at the masthead while the signal ‘Protest. Leave Norwegian territory’ was repeatedly flashed by lamp. The destroyer, already identified as the British HMS Hunter from the pennant H35 on her side, answered by hoisting ‘Minefield ahead. Stop for instructions’ and replied by lamp ‘Will not leave territory’. Closing, a boat was lowered from Hunter and a British officer came across. He informed them that mines were being laid and handed Kaptein Kaaveland a map with the co-ordinates. The officer added that two destroyers would stay with the minefield to warn approaching ships for forty-eight hours, and requested Syrian to assist. Several merchant vessels had already been stopped and the traffic along the coast was for all practical purposes severed. While the officer from Hunter was still onboard Syrian, one of the other destroyers moved to the north side of the alleged field while the rest headed south-westwards, out of sight in the mist.

HMS Impulsive of 20th Destroyer Flotilla. To facilitate the carrying of mines, the after deck of the mine-laying destroyers had to be cleared and the torpedoes and aft gun removed. (Goss/Navpic)

Kaaveland reported the details of the incident in an updated radio signal to SDD3 at 05:30 and gave the co-ordinates he had received from the British officer, adding that the eastern side of Vestfjorden was closed to traffic. To pass the minefield, ships would have to leave undisputed Norwegian territory for several tens of nautical miles. From Tromsø, the signal was forwarded to Kommandørkaptein Askim in Narvik and to the Admiral Staff where it was registered at 05:58.⁶⁸

While reading the signal, the duty officer at the Admiral Staff, Kaptein Håkon Willoch, was informed that the British and French naval attachés in Oslo were in the building, requesting an urgent meeting with him. Rear Admiral Hector Boyes and his French colleague Capitaine de Frégate d’Arzur wished Willoch a good morning and handed him a copy of a comprehensive memorandum, adding that at that very moment the original was being presented to the Foreign Office by their respective ministers, Dormer and de Dampierre. The memorandum, which Boyes insisted required ‘immediate attention’, argued at length how the deliberate increase in German violations of Norwegian neutrality and the Norwegian inability to prevent this, forced the Allied governments to take measures believed necessary. With reference to the memorandum of 5 April, of which Willoch had no knowledge, it had been decided to deny Germany the use of stretches of Norwegian territorial waters; three minefields had been laid that morning – off Stadtlandet, at Bud and in Vestfjorden. The co-ordinates of the minefields were given and it was added that British warships would patrol the fields for forty-eight hours to stop merchant ships entering the danger zones.⁶⁹

At 05:10, Vevang coastguard station, near Hustadvika, reported two destroyers, ‘probably British’, having entered Norwegian territory, and the destroyer Sleipner was ordered out from Kristiansund to investigate. The two destroyers were indeed British. After departing with Renown in the morning of the 6th, Hyperion and Hero proceeded to Sullom Voe for refuelling. They left again at 05:15 on the 7th with orders to head for Bud on the Norwegian west coast and pretend to be laying a minefield. By 03:15 on the 8th, Ona Lighthouse was sighted and an accurate position obtained. The dummy mine-laying was commenced a little after 05:00. The two destroyers ran at slow speed side by side, heading back and forth on parallel tracks. When three fishing boats were sighted, oil-drums filled with seawater were dropped at the inshore end of the lines to give the impression they were laying mines. After about an hour thus pretending, the destroyers took positions, one at each end of the ‘minefield’, to warn off approaching vessels.

Around 07:20 Sleipner approached Hyperion with the signals ‘Protest’, ‘Violation’ and ‘Neutral waters’ hoisted. Hyperion returned ‘Minefield ahead. Stop for instructions’, followed by ‘Am sending boat’. A boat was lowered and Lieutenants Egan and Treseder came across, in spite of the adverse weather conditions. According to Egan, Kaptein Ullring received them ‘most courteously . . . and in perfect English . . . a charming man, who had been at sea for 35 years both in sail and steam’.⁷⁰ Lieutenant Egan presented Ullring with a copy of the Admiralty’s signal giving the co-ordinates of all three alleged minefields off the Norwegian coast, adding that three hundred mines had been laid within the marked co-ordinates earlier that morning. The astonished Ullring repeatedly asked the British officers if the mines really had been laid and told them he now feared German reprisals out of all proportion. Having submitted a signal to the SDS in Trondheim, Ullring invited the British officers to join him for breakfast while he awaited instructions.⁷¹

Norwegian destroyer Sleipner. Four 735-ton Sleipner-class destroyers were in commission by the end of 1939. Capable of thirty-two knots, they were the fastest ships of the RNN, but were comparatively under-gunned, armed with only three 10-cm guns, one 40-mm Bofors L/60 and two torpedo tubes Asdic and a fair number of depth charges on the quarterdeck made the nimble destroyers potentially dangerous adversaries for submarines. (Marinemuseet)

It took several hours before the answer came, and during the extended breakfast the rapport between the Norwegian and British officers grew very friendly. Ullring suggested that Sleipner should take responsibility for guarding the minefield if Hyperion and Hero would leave Norwegian territorial waters. Lieutenant Egan – who knew there were no mines – answered that this was probably acceptable, and Kaptein Ullring asked to be taken onboard the British destroyer to make the final agreements with Commander Nicholson (and undoubtedly take a look at his ship). By now, the weather was deteriorating fast, though, and he eventually decided to stay where he was. The answer from the commanding admiral finally came via Trondheim after 10:30. It was short and not very helpful: ‘. . . Protest against violation of neutrality . . . ref paragraph 17 of neutrality procedures.’ The British officers left Sleipner, having received a formal protest. Through some further signalling, Ullring accepted responsibility for guarding the ‘minefield’, whereafter Hyperion and Hero departed Norwegian territory at 11:38.⁷²

At Stad, no British naval vessels had been observed and several ships had crossed the area after the minefield was supposed to have been laid. Receiving the information from the Admiral Staff that there was a minefield here too, Tank-Nielsen sent the torpedo boat Snøgg and two auxiliaries to patrol the area.

The first German knowledge of the British mine-laying was a signal picked up at 07:35 from the British radio station at Cleethorpes, announcing the three danger areas. Politically, this development could not have been timed better, as it underlined perfectly the need for a German ‘rescue operation’ in Norway. The minefields would not affect the landing operations, but they might disturb the supply and tanker traffic to the bridgeheads. The SKL believed the British warning might very well be a bluff, but during a telephone conference with Admiral Saalwächter, it was agreed that no chances should be taken and the danger areas avoided, if necessary by going outside the Leads.⁷³

Meanwhile, events progressed at sea.

Glowworm and Hipper

The slow Nordic dawn became visible onboard the German battleships around 04:45 GeT in the morning of Monday 8 April. At this time, they were a hundred miles off Trondheim, steering 045° for Vestfjorden. Visibility was fair to good and once it was light enough to take a tally, most of the destroyers were found to be missing. It was expected that they were not far away and would soon catch up. During the morning, the wind began to veer north-westerly, increasing to Force 7, gusting to 9, with the sea still mounting.

At 04:30 BrT (British Time), Glowworm reported to Renown that she had been hove to during the night, but would shortly proceed to rendezvous as ordered. Glowworm’s gyrocompass had jumped off its mountings and it appears that Lieutenant Commander Roope had decided it was fruitless to try to locate the battlecruiser without. All the more so as no fix had been obtained for close to forty-eight hours and Glowworm’s position was uncertain. On deck, there was damage caused by the heavy seas and the whaler and motor dinghy had been washed away. A couple of hours after dawn, another destroyer was sighted, answering ‘Swedish destroyer Göteborg’ when challenged. Roope did not find this likely; when the other ship turned away he ordered steam, hoisted the battle ensign and opened fire. Rolling badly, the shots fell short, and the other ship vanished in the murk before Glowworm could follow.⁷⁴

Far from being Swedish, the sighted ship was Lüdemann trying to catch up with the battleships.⁷⁵ The German lookouts sighted the British destroyer some time before it became obvious they had been sighted themselves and Korvettenkapitän Friedrichs, the captain of Lüdemann, was prepared to attack, believing he had a tactical advantage. Fregattenkapitän Hans-Joachim Gadow, C-in-C of 3rd Zerstörer Flotilla, however, decided their primary task was to bring the Jägers to Narvik and ordered him to turn away towards the north-west. The rest of the German fleet was expected to be to the north-east and it was important that the British destroyer did not find the battleships, should it succeed in following.

Vizeadmiral Lütjens was alerted to the British destroyer through two USW-radio signals from Lüdemann recorded at 08:58 and 08:59 GeT in his war diary. This means that the first sighting of Glowworm probably happened some five to ten minutes earlier, around 07:50 BrT.⁷⁶ German reports state that Glowworm, when sighted from Lüdemann, was at slow speed on a southerly course with unmanned guns and without steam on several boilers. Unless this is a misapprehension, it can only be explained by the repair of the gyrocompass taking longer than expected, and Lieutenant Commander Roope believing there was no danger this far north under the prevailing conditions.

Shortly after the first destroyer had vanished, Arnim appeared on Glowworm’s port bow, closing fast, and a running fight ensued. In the heavy seas neither destroyer scored any hits. In particular Arnim was rolling badly. Onboard Lüdemann, still speeding away, a USW-radio signal was received, believed to come from Arnim, briefly sighted through the murk: ‘Am attacking enemy’. Fregattenkapitän Gadow replied as he had done to Friedrichs: ‘Consider your main task’. Korvettenkapitän Curt Rechel of Arnim later denied that the ‘Attack’ signal had come from him. In his version, he had only received a fragmented USW signal from Lüdemann and was not sure what was going on.

The British destroyer suddenly emerged from a rainsquall, too fast for him to get out of harm’s way. Rechel turned Arnim north-westwards behind a smokescreen. Roope gave chase and the German reports do not hide the fact that the British destroyer fared much better than the German in the heavy seas. At thirty-five knots, the foreship and bridge of Arnim were seriously damaged and two men lost overboard. Speed was reduced to twenty-seven knots. Glowworm could maintain a higher speed without taking damage and started to gain on Arnim, firing continuously. Arnim’s forward turrets could only bear at times and the theoretical superiority of the five German 12.7-cm guns versus the four British 12-cm came to naught. German reports claim three hits on their adversary, but none of the British survivors confirmed this. Rechel must have started to feel the situation getting out of hand; he now turned north-east, towards the fleet. What Lieutenant Commander Roope believed, we can never know, but he decided to follow the German destroyer even though it must have occurred to him that she was heading for company. German sources report British survivors to have said they never expected to find a cruiser coming at them, but few of the survivors were on the bridge. At 09:30, Gneisenau received a USW signal from Arnim, giving an assumed position, requesting support. A few minutes earlier, Lütjens had already signalled for Hipper to turn back and sort out the mess.

The Zerstörers of the 2nd Flotilla had managed to stay close during the night and when Flotilla Commander Fregattenkapitän von Pufendorf in Jacobi received copies of USW signals indicating enemy contact, he ordered the other ships of his group, Riedel, Heinemann and Eckholdt to close up and steered towards the scene of action. Not long after, gun flashes were seen to the north. Before they could get close, though, Jacobi tilted more than 55° during a particularly heavy sea, drenching the port boiler room intakes, shutting down the port engine temporarily and throwing five men overboard. Frustrated, von Pufendorf, who did not share Gadow’s view on the priorities, had to slow down, but continued towards the encounter.⁷⁷

At 07:59 BrT, Lieutenant Commander Roope sent a signal to Admiral Whitworth in Renown, reporting enemy contact at 65° 04’ N, 6° 04’ E, followed two minutes later by: ‘Am engaging enemy destroyer’. Three hundred miles to the south-west, on the bridge of Rodney, Admiral Forbes received Glowworm’s signals shortly after. The reported position puzzled him. It either meant that the fleet sighted the day before had made over twenty knots during the night in spite of the atrocious weather, or there were two German fleets at large. Both cases were equally alarming. In the Admiralty War Diary, there is a scribble over the encoded position of the signal: ‘wrongly coded’. German reports place the encounter at 64° N, 07° E, sixty miles further south. At 08:40, Glowworm reported ‘Enemy making smoke’, and five minutes later, ‘Am endeavouring to draw enemy northwards’. Two more signals followed, reporting the German destroyer retiring north-eastward behind smoke, until at 08:55 came: ‘One enemy vessel unknown identity bearing 000°, 6 miles, course 180°.’ A position added to the signal was unintelligible except for 65° N. The last signal from Glowworm was made at 09:04, fading out and making a sinister indication of her fate.⁷⁸ Renown and Greyhound turned south shortly before 08:45, as did Birmingham and Fearless, which had still not caught up with the flag. At 10:00 Admiral Forbes detached Repulse and Penelope with Eskimo, Bedouin, Punjabi and Kimberley from the Home Fleet, ordering them to head north-east at maximum speed.⁷⁹

Receiving the signal to search for the destroyer in trouble, Heye ordered all army personnel below deck and turned his cruiser south. Going against the sea, Hipper took heavy water and, to facilitate observation and keep the forward guns ready, speed was kept moderate. From Lüdemann, a fantastic sight was witnessed when Hipper appeared briefly, crashing majestically through the heavy waves. Glowworm was in for a nasty surprise.

At 09:50, Hipper’s foretop reported a masthead forward to port and shortly after another to starboard. The destroyer to port was shrouded in smoke, apparently from a deliberate attempt to hide. Both ships were rolling madly in the heavy seas. Neither foretop nor bridge could at first decide which of the two emerging destroyers was the enemy and Kapitän Heye held his fire. The starboard destroyer started to flash ‘A-A-A’ repeatedly towards the cruiser. The signal did not make sense to the Germans, but one of the officers held it was English, meaning ‘What ship?’ Heye still hesitated, but finally gave permission to fire when the foretop reported the signalling destroyer to be flying a White Ensign. It was 09:58 GeT when Admiral Hipper’s 20.3-cm guns opened fire in anger for the first time. Range to target was 8,400 metres.

Glowworm laying smoke. This photograph was taken from Hipper. (Bundesarchiv Koblenz)

Heye kept the cruiser’s bow at the destroyer to avoid torpedoes and only the ‘A’ and ‘B’ turrets could bear at first. After three salvoes, the after arcs opened and the ‘D’ turret could fire too. ‘A’ turret was at times troubled by seas washing over it and its fire had to be halted when the destroyer came inside maximum depression. Loading and aiming was difficult in the high seas and the interval between salvoes was irregular; all the more so as it was difficult for the main turrets to follow the fast-moving destroyer over the shortening distance.

The first hit on Glowworm was observed on the starboard side between the bridge and the funnel after the fourth salvo. Lieutenant Commander Roope ordered smoke and turned the destroyer back into it, attempting to gain a respite but Hipper followed her moves on the DeTe radar, firing into the smoke. Emerging again, Glowworm started to take hits from Hipper’s 10.5-cm guns, which had been allowed to shoot. The radio room and wireless aerial were destroyed, halting further signalling. Communication between engine room and bridge was severed, making emergency measures necessary. Further hits opened the hull to the sea. One 20.3-cm shell wrecked the captain’s day cabin, temporarily in use as a first-aid station, killing the medics and most casualties. Another exploded deep in the engine room, fracturing steam pipes and starting multiple fires. Still, Engine-Room Artificer Henry Gregg somehow managed to maintain speed and manoeuvrability. On deck, Glowworm’s forward 4.7-inch gun vanished in a gust of fire while parts of the yardarm crashed onto the siren lanyards, starting a banshee wailing above the howl of the storm. The bridge of the destroyer was a mess of twisted plates and tubes, hit by at least one 10.5-cm shell.

Few shots were fired from Glowworm during the encounter according to the German reports, and there were no direct hits on the cruiser. Only one shell exploded near the foreship, sending shrapnel harmlessly over the deck. Using the cover of his smokescreen, Roope made a torpedo attack at 10:10 GeT. In spite of being close (some eight hundred metres), Heye’s careful tactics of pointing the bow at his adversary paid off and he was able to avoid the torpedoes, even though the nearest was only metres away to port. Roope’s attempts to swing the other mounting out to get off the rest of the torpedoes were hampered, being continuously raked from Hipper’s 3.7- and 2-cm guns.⁸⁰ Glowworm turned again, re-entering the smokescreen. Heye wanted a quick solution to the encounter before further torpedoes could be fired, and he steered the cruiser into the smoke. Coming out on the other side, the two ships were suddenly very close. Fearing that Glowworm might get another opportunity to launch torpedoes, Heye ordered ‘hard-a-starboard’ in order to close and, if necessary, ram the destroyer. The heavy seas delayed the rudder response, however, and Hipper turned slowly. Whether Roope also intended ramming the cruiser or if the ensuing collision happened fortuitously will never be ascertained, in spite of the legend. Torpedo Officer Lieutenant Ramsey, the sole surviving British officer, later told his rescuers that neither the helm nor the emergency rudder were manned at the time, and so the destroyer’s turn towards Hipper was probably accidental.⁸¹

Glowworm after the collision, with bow broken off. Both torpedo mountings are swung out and appear to be empty, so most likely all ten torpedoes were fired. (Bundesarchiv Koblenz)

Whatever the intentions of the two captains, Glowworm tore into Hipper’s forward starboard side with sirens wailing, striking just abaft the anchor. The destroyer’s bow was pressed under the side of the cruiser and broke off. The remains of the hull scraped along the starboard side-armour, making a thirty-five-metre crescent-shaped dent, tearing away a large part of the railings and wrecking the forward starboard torpedo mounting. Mechanikergefreiter Ritter, leading seaman on the forward 10.5-cm, was lost overboard. Several bulkheads were opened to the sea and some five hundred tons of water flooded the hull before the leaks could be isolated. The cruiser was not seriously damaged, in spite of the forecastle being low in the water and a starboard list.⁸²

After the collision, Glowworm drifted clear with a devastating fire raging amidships and Heye ordered ‘Cease fire’ at 10:13. Thirty-one shells had been fired from the 20.3-cm guns, 130 from the 10.5-cm guns, 156 from the 3.7-cm guns and 132 from the 2-cm guns during the fourteen or fifteen minutes that the battle lasted. At first, it was Heye’s intention to leave Glowworm as she was – incapable of shadowing the German fleet any more. There were other British ships nearby, he expected, and these would come to the rescue.⁸³

Glowworm was going down quickly and Lieutenant Commander Roope gave the order to abandon ship. As she sank, men climbed onto her bow or jumped into the freezing, oil-covered water. Legend has it that at the last moment, Lieutenant Commander Roope shook the hand of every man around him. At 10:24 GeT, Glowworm’s boilers exploded and she slipped under; the abrupt stop of the siren causing an eerie silence in spite of the storm.

Having searched briefly for Mechanikergefreiter Ritter and not yet fully under way, Kapitän Heye felt obliged to assist the British sailors struggling for their lives. He gave the unprecedented order for Hipper to heave to, downstream of the drifting survivors. In spite of the danger of British ships showing up at any time, he stayed for over an hour rescuing survivors. Lowering of boats was out of the question, but all personnel on deck, including some of the soldiers, helped to pull the frozen, oil-soaked British sailors up by ropes and ladders. The oily, icy water exhausted the British survivors. Many grabbed the ropes thrown at them but could not hold on and drifted away. Lieutenant Commander Roope was seen in the water helping his men to the ropes. Finally he took hold of a line himself and was pulled some distance up the side of the cruiser. To the horror of British and Germans alike, just before reaching safety, he let go and fell back into the water. From a crew of 149 onboard Glowworm, forty men were pulled out of the water. Several were wounded and at least two later died. The rescued men not in need of medical attention were given dry clothes, cigarettes and hot coffee. They were questioned, but only a few were willing to say much. Kapitän Heye learned little more than the name of the destroyer and that she had belonged to a squadron of three more destroyers and possibly one or two larger ships, bound for Lofoten. None of the survivors appeared to have any impression of the larger tactical picture and expressed surprise to have encountered a German cruiser at sea.⁸⁴

Survivors being carried to safety onboard Hipper. (Bundesarchiv Koblenz)

Nothing more to do, Kapitän Heye ordered speed and signalled for the four destroyers of 2nd Flotilla, which had eventually arrived on the scene just as the battle was over, to gather on the cruiser. At 10:54, a laconic signal was sent to the fleet: ‘Fühlungshalter versenkt’ – ‘Shadower has been sunk’. There was no point in trying to reunite with the flag. Group II was near the point where they would have been detached anyway and the five ships from now on proceeded independently. It was far too early to approach the coast and, after a sweep north-eastwards to acquire a bearing on the Halten Lighthouse, Heye steered back and forth offshore, waiting for the appropriate time to head for Trondheim. On request from the destroyers, a moderate speed was set to minimise sea effects.

It was only after the repatriation of the Glowworm survivors after the war, when Lieutenant Ramsey was interviewed by the Admiralty, that the full order of events came to be known in Britain. As a result Lieutenant Commander Roope was posthumously awarded the Victoria Cross, Lieutenant Ramsey received the Distinguished Service Order and Engine-Room Artificer Gregg, Petty Officer Scott and Able Seaman Merritt the Conspicuous Gallantry Medal.⁸⁵

Ironically, the lost Glowworm was the only British surface ship to gain contact with the German invasion fleet on 8 April. It is possible that Hostile also brushed with Hipper that afternoon. Glowworm’s signals were picked up and, after ordering the captured trawler Nordland to proceed independently towards Kirkwall, Commander Wright turned to assist. At 15:45, a warship was sighted ‘hull down to the North East, steering a North Westerly course’. Wright believed this to be Renown and steered to gain touch. Snow reduced visibility and the sighted ship, probably Hipper, vanished. At this time, Renown was well to the north, meeting up with the mine-laying force, and it is quite possible that Hostile might have shared Glowworm’s fate had it not been for the squall.⁸⁶

On the same day, the German auxiliary cruiser Orion (Schiff 36) travelled along the Norwegian coast, independent from Weserübung. She was to have been escorted by U64 into the Atlantic, but the two never met and Fregattenkapitän Weyher decided to proceed alone as the weather was closing in, favourable for a breakout. At 17:26, a ‘steamer’ was observed on a south-westerly course, accompanied by four destroyers. Course was changed away from the potential danger and the rest of the breakout went as planned.⁸⁷ The five ships Orion narrowly avoided were certainly Teviot Bank and her escort returning from the aborted mine-laying sortie. Had the destroyers sighted the auxiliary cruiser, she would have been a fine scalp from an otherwise futile sortie.

Lütjens was seriously concerned that the encounter with Glowworm had compromised the operation. He was certain that the British destroyer had submitted a report before going down; the Admiralty would understand that German destroyers this far north could only mean an operation against northern Norway. The apparent unpreparedness of the British destroyer, indicated in a signal from Fregattenkapitän Gadow at 12:03, on the other hand, was strong evidence that the Royal Navy had not been put on a general alert. Group I gathered on the battleships during the morning, except Giese, which remained missing. At one stage, Lütjens considered staying with Group II and letting Group I carry on alone, but eventually decided to follow the plan. The announcement of the minefield in Vestfjorden, which he was made aware of through Group West during the morning, made it likely that British ships were in the vicinity. It was also known from Pruck’s report that the Norwegian panserships were at Narvik and might be encountered. The fuel situation of the Zerstörers meant that they could not return to Trondheim should they run into trouble. Hipper and her consorts, on the other hand, would be better off as they could withdraw northwards if necessary. Splitting the battleships with one in each group was not an option. During the morning, the wind turned from south-south-west to north-west, increasing further. At midday, Bodø Radio forecast a full north-westerly storm in the Lofoten area by nightfall. At 13:50 Lütjens ordered second-degree readiness (half of the positions manned) and a general speed of twenty-five knots. An hour later, a signal from Group West forwarded an observation from a long-distance reconnaissance aircraft, which had sighted ‘two battlecruisers, one heavy cruiser and six destroyers’ on a northerly course north-west of Ålesund.⁸⁸

The chase was on.

Orzel and Rio de Janeiro

In the morning of 8 April the Polish submarine Orzel (Eagle) of the 2nd Submarine Flotilla was cruising at periscope depth in the Skagerrak off Lillesand when Lieutenant Commander Jan Grudzinski sighted an approaching merchantman. She carried no flag, but with the periscope at maximum magnification he could read the name Rio de Janeiro on her bows. Unknown to the Polish captain, Rio de Janeiro was one of the transports assigned to Group III, heading for Bergen. Originally a 5,261-ton liner carrying cargo and passengers between Europe and Latin America, she was now loaded with large amounts of military equipment including four 10.5-cm guns, six 20-mm A/A guns, seventy-three horses, seventy-one vehicles and 292 tons of provisions in her spacious hull. In addition there were 313 passengers, most of them wearing uniform.⁸⁹

Rio de Janeiro in Stettin, just prior to departure. (Author’s collection)

In spite of orders to the contrary, Grudzinski brought Orzel to the surface and flashed a challenge: ‘Stop engines. The master with ship’s papers is to report on board immediately.’ Instead of stopping, Kapitän Voigt increased speed and turned shoreward. Orzel could do twenty knots on the surface and gave chase, firing bursts of warning shots from her Lewis gun. Rio de Janeiro halted and a boat was lowered, but stayed close to the liner in spite of a few sailors pretending to be rowing. Meanwhile, the radio operator of Orzel reported that the German was sending a coded radio signal and Grudzinski flashed by lamp to abandon ship as he was about to fire a torpedo. There was no reaction. While the torpedoes were prepared, the coaster Lindebø and the fishing vessel Jenny chanced to pass nearby. Grudzinski ordered fire at 11:45 and the torpedo struck amidships, after which he took his boat down. Steam and dense smoke poured from Rio de Janeiro and suddenly her deck came alive with men in field-grey uniforms, falling or jumping into the sea. Lifebelts and pieces of wood were thrown over the side as more men followed into the water. No one seemed to try to lower the lifeboats. Rio de Janeiro listed and turned slowly to starboard, but did not appear to be sinking. Lindebø and Jenny moved in to assist.

The Polish Orzel. On the surface, she could do over nineteen knots and, submerged, almost ten. Four torpedo tubes in the bow, four in the stern, four external amidships, one 105-mm gun and two 40-mms made her a welcome addition to the Allied submarine force. (Author’s collection)

At 11:15, Kristiansand SDS received a signal from Justøy coastguard station that they could see the tower of a submarine on a westerly course just outside the territorial limit and a merchant ship, which appeared to be idle next to it. The nationalities of both vessels were unknown. An MF11 reconnaissance aircraft was ordered up from the naval air base at Marvika and took off shortly after, arriving just as the torpedo struck. Kvartermester Almton took his aircraft low over the listing ship and Lieutenant Hansen in the observer’s seat could see chaotic conditions onboard with people running through flames and smoke, tumbling into the sea and trying to reach a few nearby floats. Several dead men were floating face down and horses were also in the water, adding to the horror. The submarine, which had dived as the aircraft arrived, was nowhere to be seen. A brief signal was sent to Marvika at 12:07 as Almton headed back towards Kristiansand to report.

Orzel, which had circled underwater, fired a second torpedo from periscope depth. It struck at 12:15 and the bow of the transport broke off and sank quickly. Lindebø had splinters flying over her deck from the explosion and several of the just rescued sailors were killed or wounded. The hull of Rio de Janeiro rolled over and sank minutes later, leaving hundreds of men to fight for their lives in the freezing sea.

The destroyer Odin, which had been sent to investigate, arrived at 12:45, joining the rescue work. Conditions were rough, though, and soon the surface was scattered with bodies. Eventually some 150 men were rescued by various Norwegian vessels while around 180 perished (19 crew and about 160 soldiers), plus all the horses.⁹⁰ An accurate cross-plot of the position made from Justøy and Høvåg coastguard stations concluded that Rio de Janeiro had been just outside the Norwegian three-mile territorial limit when torpedoed. Lieutenant Commander Grudzinski took Orzel away from the carnage and eventually surfaced to send a report.⁹¹

Odin headed for Kristiansand with seventeen wounded and eighteen dead under a tarpaulin on the deck, flying her flag at half-mast. Most of the others ended up in Lillesand. The dead were taken to the chapel at the local cemetery. The less wounded were treated by three local doctors in the harbour area while the serious casualties were sent to the hospital in Arendal. The Germans were wet and miserable and obviously shaken by their ordeal. Chief of Police Nils Onsrud arrived to take charge of the operation. He became very concerned when he discovered that virtually all of the survivors wore uniform and that some even had guns. What was obviously an officer tried to maintain some order and shouted ‘Wehrmacht hier! Marine hier!’⁹² These men were no ordinary sailors! Onsrud started questioning them and some answered openly that they were soldiers heading for Bergen to assist the Norwegian Army against an Allied invasion – at the government’s request. The officer, presenting himself with a salute as Lieutenant Voss, held that Rio de Janeiro had been nothing but a merchantman loaded with general provisions. Onsrud was certain the man was lying and that he had stumbled onto something of great importance. He cordoned off the harbour area as best he could and organised dry clothes, food and cigarettes to keep the Germans busy, while he went looking for a telephone. His call to Kristiansand SDS came through at 14:30, but to Onsrud’s astonishment, the naval officer he spoke to at Marvika doubted his observations and saw no need to initiate any actions other than the ongoing rescue operation. To take care of the survivors and guard them, Onsrud was advised to contact the army ‘as the men were already on land . . .’. This he did, but at General Liljedahl’s office they saw no reason to interfere either.