in the military as to the prudence of the operation and they ‘hoped to have the order rescinded’.12
The naval section of the Government Code and Cypher School (GC&CS) at Bletchley Park informed the Admiralty’s OIC on 7 April of a significant increase in German naval radio activity indicating several ships at sea in the Baltic and west of Denmark. The OIC had limited experience with the novel science of sigint – it was mainly run by civilian academics with little knowledge of naval matters – and, not being informed of other warning signals, did not sound the alarm.13
At the RAF, an increased Luftwaffe reconnaissance activity was registered in the North Sea and Skagerrak after a period of relative inactivity. By chance, the first aerial photos of Kiel harbour were taken on the 7 April, showing numerous ships and significant activity. As there were no previous photos to compare it with, and as Scharnhorst and Gneisenau were reported in Wilhelmshaven, nothing appeared urgent to the RAF analysts – not even when subsequent reconnaissance flights in the evening reported ‘intense shipping activity and brilliantly lit wharves’ at Eckernförde, Kiel, Hamburg and Lübeck.14
In Denmark, the British naval attaché Henry Denham heard rumours of German minesweepers off the Danish coast, and in the morning of Sunday 7 April drove south from Copenhagen to investigate. To his immense excitement he twice observed large warships heading west. Added to other information of recent German fleet movements, Denham had no doubt that this was serious and rushed back to Copenhagen. At 14:35 he reported to the Admiralty: ‘German warships Gneisenau or Blücher with two cruisers and three destroyers passed Langeland [in the] Great Belt northbound daylight today. Similar force now passing northward, off Møen. Through Sound at 11:00. Large concentration of trawlers in Kattegat.’ At 17:42, a second report from Denham stated he had had the report confirmed by the Danish Admiralty, but as the ships had not been sighted since midday, it was unclear if they had continued northwards.
Some months later in London, Denham met his friend Captain Ralph Edwards,
. . . who had been Duty Captain at Admiralty the evening of 7th April when my telegram, reporting enemy ships and their probable Norwegian destination, had been received. He told me he had taken it straight across to Winston Churchill who, after studying the contents, had merely remarked ‘I don’t think so.’ Months later when the two men happened to be together at sea, crossing to a Washington conference, Churchill, recognising Edwards and remembering their earlier meeting about my telegram, generously admitted his error of judgement.15
The last entry of the Admiralty War Diary on 7 April, at 23:58, notes the naval attaché in Copenhagen having reported personally sighting the cruiser Blücher and other German warships south of Gedser on a westerly course at 14:00 and again at 17:00. The report was dismissed however, with the comment ‘evidently doing exercise with ship out of sight’.16
Harry Hinsley, a historian and cryptanalyst who worked at Bletchley Park during WWII, concludes: ‘. . . given the organisation of intelligence and the state of its sources, . . . we can scarcely be surprised that the significance of the many indications Germany was preparing the invasion of Norway and Denmark eluded the individual intelligence bodies and the interdepartmental authorities.’17 Possibly, but a significant responsibility rests with the decision makers who failed to collate the growing information into a pertinent picture of German intentions while maintaining necessary flexibility to realise and act upon a strategic concept, differing from what they had expected. It was all the more puzzling as Plan R4 was to be initiated as soon as the Germans ‘set foot on Norwegian soil, or there was clear evidence they intend to do so’.
Major-General Ismay, secretary of the Military Coordination Committee later wrote:
We had suspected, that some mischief was brewing in Norwegian waters, for there had been reliable information two nights previously that a sizeable, German naval force was on the move northwards, and at the War Cabinet meeting the next morning the First Lord had reported that a few hours previously the destroyer Glowworm had signalled that she was in action against a superior force, that her signals had suddenly ceased, and that she had evidently been overwhelmed. This was confirmation that a German force was at sea, but it was thought their objective was probably limited to forestalling any action that we might take at Narvik.18
Occupied Next Week
On 31 March, the Swedish minister in Berlin, Arvid Richert, sent a note to Foreign Minister Christian Günther in Stockholm. The note said reliable sources had informed the embassy that troops, horses, vehicles and equipment had been embarked in fifteen to twenty-five large ships in Stettin and Swinemünde. The troops might be intended for a preventive seizure of key areas in Sweden to secure the supply of iron ore. Supplementary information over the next days confirmed the embarkation, but shifted the potential target of the operation to Norway, and held it would not be initiated without Allied provocation. Richert argued, though, that as troops and equipment were actually being loaded, the Germans most likely knew or expected that an Allied intervention was being planned. The embarkation, which was confirmed from several sources, took place behind guarded fences, but there was little doubt the ships were under military command. Bars and restaurants in the Stettin docks had been invaded by a large number of ‘new officers of all kinds’, unfamiliar to the regulars. It does not appear that this information was forwarded from Stockholm to Oslo in any form, but Richert discussed the news with the Norwegian minister in Berlin, Arne Scheel. Meanwhile, German disinformation had been spread that the troops and equipment were intended for east Prussia, where flooding had caused an emergency. Both envoys therefore concluded there was no reason for alarm. In a letter written on 1 April, Scheel reported to Oslo that Richert had told him the Reichskanzlei was concerned regarding imminent British actions to sever the German ore transport through Narvik, but ended the letter assuring him that the troops embarking in the Baltic ports were most likely ‘to be sent east’. Neither Koht nor Nygaardsvold saw ‘any reason for concern’ from the content of this letter.19
In the morning of 31 March, British naval attaché, Rear Admiral Boyes, called the navy Chief of Staff Corneliussen, asking about the rumours of German preparations in the Baltic. Corneliussen admitted he had received the reports, but was ‘not perturbed’, believing the activity to be related to ‘proposed Allied assistance to Finland’.20
For a number of reasons, including earlier warnings of German naval operations against Norway that never materialised, Koht had limited faith in the Norwegian representatives in Berlin. Minister Arne Scheel, a diplomat of the old school, was of the opinion that in order to act as neutral as possible, it was best to attend host country arrangements as invited. Koht, however, believed attendance at official Nazi Party arrangements should be minimised. Furthermore, in March, Ambassador Scheel dispatched a rather concerned letter to the Foreign Office in Oslo claiming that Norway had come to German attention as a result of threats to the iron-ore transport through Narvik. He recommended that Norwegian neutrality be ‘upheld as strong as our utmost abilities permit’ – words Koht partly interpreted as reflecting the German point of view and partly as a criticism of him and his policy.21 Stortingspresident Hambro later wrote that Scheel and Koht ‘could not understand – far less appreciate each other’. To make matters worse, the vice-consul at the embassy, Ulrich Stang, had during his assignment developed Nazi sympathies. Neither Koht nor Scheel were happy with this and had discussed having him removed. Stang was still in Berlin in April 1940.22
Arne Scheel, Norwegian ambassador in Berlin. (Aufn. Scherl/NTB/Scanpix)
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