The German Invasion of Norway. Geirr H. Haarr

cipher secretary on duty, Gudrun Martius, considered the message serious enough to call Koht at home as no senior political staff were present in the office. Having the telegram referred to him, Koht reassured Miss Martius that the ships were not heading for a destination in Norway, but ‘into the Atlantic’. How Koht knew this, and what a large fleet of German transport ships loaded with troops was hoping to achieve there, was not discussed. A copy of the report was couriered to the Admiral and General Staff that evening, but no further measures were taken, as Koht had given no instructions. The next day, a copy of the signal was sent to the Ministry of Defence, but whether it reached Ljungberg or not is unclear. It appears the mentioning of the 11th, which was several days away, to a large extent affected Koht’s dismissal of Norway as the target. Miss Martius was confused after the conversation with Koht, but could only conclude that, as the foreign minister took the telegram so calmly, he had other information that put the situation in a different light. A copy of the signal reached Kaptein Willoch at the Naval Staff around 22:00 on the 7th. He called the commanding admiral and, quoting it, asked if he should initiate any measures: for example alert the districts and prepare for mines to be laid. Diesen answered no, and assured Willoch he himself would make sure those who needed to know would be informed. Willoch’s frustration was marked, all the more so as he never heard back on the issue. According to Steen, the commanding admiral and his Chief of Staff agreed the troopships were most probably related to an attack on Holland.⁴³

      Kaptein Håkon Willoch (1896–1955), the brother of Odd Willoch in Narvik and Gunnar Willoch in Bergen – and father of Kåre Willoch, prime minister of Norway from 1981 to 1986. (Kåre Willoch)

      Thus, the information from Oster reached Oslo during 5 April through circuitous routes while there was still time to prepare the Norwegian armed forces to meet an invasion on the 9th. Neither Koht nor Ljungberg or his commanders, however, considered the signals from Berlin to indicate a ‘clear and present danger’ towards Norway and none of them initiated investigations to have the signals verified. There are independent accounts of Koht having commented on the reports from Germany with something like, ‘Either the rumours are false, in which case there is no cause for alarm, or they are correct, in which case we will not have any useful answers.’ That might be true, but no attempts were made to compile the signals and assess them jointly. Neither was the government or the prime minister made accurately aware of the incoming warnings. No initiatives were taken to discuss the situation with the commanders or their staff and no contact was made with the other Nordic governments to hear their views on the development. Indeed, the initiative from Copenhagen to do just that was dismissed. Why this was so is less obvious. Arguably, the telegrams to Oslo were less precise than those received in Stockholm and Copenhagen, partly due to the omissions and distortion of the original message by Stang, but this cannot explain it all. Perhaps it was personal issues that made the warnings from Scheel and Stang less believable. Perhaps it was cognitive priming. Whatever the reason, the information lost its significance somewhere between Berlin and Oslo and no initiatives were taken to have it verified or assess its consequences, should it be correct.

      In the meeting of the Foreign Affairs Committee on 8 April, Koht said: ‘There have been several reports in the last couple of days from Germany regarding planned actions against Norway. These are reports without any official foundation and we cannot know what they are based on or how serious they are . . .’ Koht later denied using the word ‘official’, but the stenographer asserted the minutes were correct. Either way, Foreign Minister Koht in this meeting, some eighteen hours before Weserzeit, told his government colleagues that he doubted the validity of the warnings and saw no reason to act upon them.⁴⁴

      Mobilisation needed a political decision, but none was taken. How much this was affected by the relationship between Ambassador Scheel and Koht, Stang’s corruption of the initial information or Ljungberg’s incompetence in political matters, we shall never know. Neither shall we know what might have happened had Danish Foreign Minister Munch advised his government to mobilise the Danish armed forces based on the reports from Berlin. He at least had the full, undistorted information from Oster and Sas. Partly due to the rather firm dismissal of the ‘rumours’ from Oslo, however, and partly due to a subsequent telegram from Minister Zahle toning down the threat somewhat, Munch decided not to take action ‘in order not to create panic’.⁴⁵ How the Norwegian government would have reacted to a Danish mobilisation remains hypothetical, but it would certainly have brought the reasons for such a development to the surface.

       — 4 —

       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