Chapter 7
Reichsamtsleiter Hans-Wilhelm Scheidt reached Lillehammer shortly before noon, having driven the hundred miles without incident. Conscious that he would soon be among fighting men, he had been mindful to change out of his civilian suit and into the tan Party tunic instead. With his Amtsleiter tabs on the collar, Party badge on the right breast pocket and military belt, he felt more suitably attired, albeit less comfortable. Black trousers, knee-length boots and a high peaked cap completed the makeover.
He had managed to secure a brief audience with the Reichskommissar before leaving Oslo. Terboven had not been best pleased to have his breakfast interrupted but had given Scheidt the written authority to demand whatever assistance he required.
It was with this letter tucked into the inside of his tunic pocket that he strode past two SS policemen in Sturmbannfuhrer Kurz's new headquarters, a comfortable townhouse that, until the day before, had been a lawyer's premises.
Kurz had brought with him a small staff of several junior officers and a number of clerks. For the most part, the room still looked like a lawyer's office, with bookshelves of legal case studies, and filing cabinets. A radio set and accompanying operator had been established in one room, but otherwise there was a temporary air about the place.
Kurz was on the telephone when Scheidt walked in. He was wearing the pale grey uniform of the Allgemeine SS, rather than the plain clothes often favoured by Sicherheitdienst and Gestapo officers, and his long black boots were crossed on the desk in front of him while he gesticulated airily with one hand, a cigarette between his fingers. Seeing Scheidt, he swung his boots off the desk, raised a hand
'Ah, Reichsamtsleiter Scheidt,' he said, with a broad smile. 'Here in person!'
'Have you got him?' Scheidt asked.
'Alas, no.' He stretched forward, tapped a cigarette from a paper packet and offered it to Scheidt. 'Cigarette? We might even be able to stretch to coffee. Or perhaps you'd care for something stronger after your drive. I take it you did drive here?'
Ignoring Kurz's small-talk, Scheidt said, 'So? Tell me. Are your mountain troops closing in?'
'My dear Scheidt,' said Kurz, the bad-tempered words of their previous conversation apparently a matter of the past, 'please, sit down.' He motioned to a chair in front of the desk. Scheidt did as he was told. How he disliked men like Kurz. Still young, and with the kind of arrogant insouciance Scheidt knew he had once perfected in himself but which he despised in others. Typical arsehole SD man. 'There was a heavy snowstorm last night,' Kurz continued, 'not so much down here in the valley but up on the mountains. A complete white-out. Not even mountain troops can operate in such conditions. But then again, Odin and his friends would not have got far either. Relax. We will get him.'
'And now?'
'We have reconnaissance aircraft looking for them.'
Someone knocked lightly on the door. 'Yes?' said Kurz.
'A Luftwaffe message just in, sir,' said a junior SD officer, passing Kurz a scribbled signal. Kurz took it, read it, smiled, then passed it to Scheidt. 'They've been spotted. And they've got some followers now - what looks like a British patrol. Most considerate of them. Much easier to find twenty men than three.' Kurz unrolled a map and spread it on the desk. 'Let me see,' he said. 'Yes, here they are. Heading for Tretten, by the look of it. The fools are crossing this high open ground here.' He chuckled. 'No cover, just deep snow.'
Impatiently Scheidt grabbed the map and turned it so that it was facing him. 'Where are the mountain troops now? They should be able to cut them off as they descend towards Tretten.'
'Exactly,' said Kurz, standing now and clapping his hands. 'You and I will go together to Engelbrecht's headquarters.' He picked up his cap and placed it on his head at a jaunty angle. Smirking, he opened the door and, with a flourish, ushered Scheidt out.
They took Kurz's car and drove through Lillehammer. A number of houses had been destroyed by bomb and battle damage; piles of stones, rubble and charred wood were evidence of the conflict that had taken place the previous day. They passed the station where the remains of a large warehouse still smoked and where debris littered the yard in front of it. At the far side, the blackened remains of a German tank still stood.
'My God, what happened here?' asked Scheidt.
'A British ammunition and supply dump,' Kurz told him. 'Unfortunately it was blown up by a couple of Tommies as our boys entered the yard.'
'I thought the enemy were rolling over?'
'Oh, they are. Of course, what do I know of military matters?' He turned to Scheidt and grinned. 'But I do know they've no guns and, it seems, no air force to speak of. Which is why I keep telling you you've nothing to worry about. The Tommies are beaten and so are the Norwegians. It's really not a question of if we catch Odin but when.''
As Kurz had promised, General Engelbrecht confirmed that he had a detachment of mountain troops ready for the task, and waved away Scheidt's attempt to show him Terboven's written instructions. They drove on to Oyer where they found troops preparing to attack the Allied lines at Tretten later that afternoon. By the church and along the main village street a number of horses were pulling artillery pieces, some standing still, their tails whisking away flies, while others slowly hauled howitzers and Pak 38 anti-tank guns through the village. There were trucks, too, and other vehicles - even one of the huge Panzer VI heavy tanks, the 'land battleships', that had been brought to Norway. As Kurz threaded his way through the milling soldiers and past the tank, it suddenly burst into life, a dark cloud of exhaust erupting from its rear. Scheidt started.
Kurz laughed. 'Don't worry, we'll soon be safely out of the battle zone.'
Scheidt ignored the comment; in any case, he was too absorbed in watching the activity - men, horses, machines: a German division on the move. Leaving the village, his gaze fell on two teams of six horses pulling a pair of 105mm field guns, the howitzers lurching forward with every stride of the animals. Alongside the gun carriages, solemn troops, grey greatcoats tightly buttoned, stared back at him. Some farm workers were in the fields nearby and Scheidt realized they were the first civilians he'd noticed since leaving Lillehammer.
A little further on, they reached a farmstead. Patchy fields spread up the slopes towards the treeline, and Scheidt gazed up the mountainside to the white-topped plateau beyond. He wondered whether Odin and his escort were up there, peering down at the activity in the valley. Kurz pulled into the farmyard, stopped by a timber barn and yanked on the handbrake with a loud grating sound. Mountain troops milled about, smoking and laughing. On the ramp of the large barn, a group of soldiers played cards, their packs and rifles stacked together. Another group stood round a small fire, evidently made from some old farm equipment, now burning warmly; a mess tin of coffee was brewing on it.
'Come on,' said Kurz, leading him into the farmhouse.
It was dark, but warm with another fire burning, this time the stove in the kitchen. Several junior officers stood up as they entered, but Kurz, with a casual flick of his hand, waved at them to sit down again. 'Where I can find Major von Poncets?' he asked.
A lieutenant showed them through to another room where clerks were tapping at coding machines and
