The Saboteur

The chief engineer’s tie was askew, his hair a little moist from sweat, his neck as thin as one of his drafting pencils. As unlikely a man to count on as Nordstrum had ever called upon. “I think you’ve made that abundantly clear.”

Nordstrum folded the paper in his jacket and climbed out of the car. “I’m sorry, but you’re not looking so well, chief engineer.”

“I know. Everyone’s telling me that today.”





64

Once Nordstrum and Einar sent over the content of Larsen’s top-secret memo, it took only three hours for SOE’s reply to come back: The matter has been considered at the highest levels with great consideration of the possibility of reprisals, but it is thought vital that the heavy water should be destroyed in transit. Hope it can be done without too disastrous results. We send our best wishes for success in the attack.

Einar handed Nordstrum the message. Nordstrum chuckled cynically. There was no time to organize a new crew or a raid from the outside. There were no new military options. No support. Only a cheery slap on the back: Best wishes for success in the attack. The fate of the one thing that kept Churchill and Roosevelt awake at night had fallen on the backs of the two of them.

Nordstrum took out his lighter and watched the edge of the paper take the flame. “Four days,” he said. “That’s not much time.”

He never gave a moment’s thought to backing off or turning it down.

And any thoughts he had of Natalie drifted away in the embers.

*

Wednesday and Thursday, they met after work. Larsen had agreed to be fully part of it now. SOE ruled that Einar had to sit this one out since he would be the only radio link remaining in the Rjukan area and because of his position at the Mosvatn Dam, which they thought one day might have to be blown. But he was involved in the planning.

In transit. Now that they knew the route—by train from Vemork to Mael, then across the lake by ferry to Tinnoset, then a second train to Nottogen (two trains actually, to keep the real one with the cargo concealed), and finally on to Skien, and across the North Sea by freighter, surely with a naval convoy, to Hamburg—they could try to find a breakdown somewhere. A weak link.

One option was to blow up the transport train en route between Vemork and Rjukan. Larsen mentioned that the train would go past Norsk Hydro’s explosives dump, where 4,500 pounds of dynamite were stored. The dump was generally lightly guarded, but the Germans were taking every precaution on Saturday, Larsen noted, so who knew how many might be assigned to it that day. To ensure the canisters’ destruction, Nordstrum said the explosion would have to come at precisely the moment the heavy water drums were passing by. Which could easily be accomplished, he explained, by a detonator placed on the tracks, but there was always the risk the Germans would send a trial engine down ahead of the train and detonate the charges prematurely.

The more likely option was to attack the train farther along its journey, between Tinnoset and Nottogen. But Nordstrum knew a direct attack like that would have to be done by a team large in number and highly organized. And Larsen said the transport train would also be carrying the plant’s usual cargo of ammonia products, which, if exploded, would pose a serious hazard to the population of Nottogen if it happened too close.

Attacking the ship by air or submarine as it crossed the North Sea was a last resort if all else failed, but there was sure to be a naval convoy protecting it, and anyway, that was completely out of their control.

“There’s still one option we haven’t discussed,” Nordstrum said, when the mood was at its gloomiest.

“And that is…?” Larsen asked.

“Blowing up the ferry once the heavy water is loaded on, and sending it to the bottom of Lake Tinnsjo.”

“The ferry…” Einar reacted with equal parts resistance and interest. “To do that would require sneaking onto it the night before and setting the charges. The morning of, there would be far too much commotion and people about. Not to mention there would be guards, no doubt.”

“Guards can be diverted.” Nordstrum shrugged. “Or silenced. What’s tricky is that it would have to be a time-delayed fuse, as, yes, we’d need to set the charges the night before and ensure it would explode at precisely the right spot. In the middle of the lake, so that the cargo could not be salvaged.”

“Explosives? Fuses? Where would you even get your hands on such materials here?” Larsen stared back in disbelief.

“That’s not the problem,” Nordstrum said. In fact, they had all the explosives they needed; the same adhesive, putty-like plastic that was left from the first raid on Norsk Hydro, which now lay buried on the vidda.

“Here’s another problem. You said the shipment is set for Saturday?” Einar turned to Larsen. “There are always two ferry trips scheduled on Saturdays. With two different boats. We’d have to be sure precisely which one the cargo would be loaded on. And what if that particular ferry spent the night on the Tinnoset side and then crossed over that morning? We wouldn’t be able to get to it.”

“That’s so.” Nordstrum nodded in thought. “But I’m pretty sure there’s only one trip on Sunday. Not to mention a lot fewer civilians on board.” He looked at Larsen. “Do you think you could arrange to delay the shipment another day?”

“Why don’t I just ask Gestapo Chief Muggenthaler? He’s overseeing the transit himself. I’m sure he’d be pleased to accommodate you,” Larsen said.

“Alf.” Nordstrum tried to steady the man.

“I’m sorry, but I’m not exactly cut out for this work,” the engineer said, taking out his handkerchief and wiping a film of sweat off his brow.

“Do you think you could do it, Alf?” Nordstrum asked again.

After some thought, Larsen blew his cheeks out in exasperation, shrugging. “We’re still draining the cells. The finished product must be tested for its concentration level and then placed in the appropriate drums. It’s possible we could slow down the pace. It would be hard for anyone to know it was deliberate. Sunday, you say?”

“That would help immeasurably.” Nordstrum patted the chief engineer on the shoulder.

“You realize what we’re even suggesting…?” Einar pushed back his chair. “Sunday or Saturday, there will still be dozens of civilians onboard. We’re talking about sending the ship to the bottom of the lake. It’s clear many of those people will not survive. We’re talking women and children, Kurt.”

“And if we don’t stop it,” Nordstrum said, “you know better than anyone that tens of thousands of innocent people could die.”

“Yes, but not Norwegian.”

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