The Hornet's Sting_ The Amazing Untold Story of World War II Spy Thomas Sneum - Mark Ryan [104]
The next day, at around 1.00 p.m., Kaj phoned again, this time from Copenhagen city center. He told his sister he wanted to give her some clothes, which he would deposit in a locker at Noerreport’s train station. He promised to send her the receipt in a letter, together with some cheques and bank documents he wanted Svend to look after, since banking was his brother-in-law’s field of expertise.
No doubt the Christophersen brothers were making similar arrangements with their father, a gardener named Johannes Ruder, and their mother, Anne Katrine. Sigfred and Thorbjoern, like Oxlund, were by now focused on the challenge they faced. Kaj must have told the brothers that his only motive for coming with them was to reach England in order to fight alongside the Allied forces. Irrespective of whether Sigfred and Thorbjoern entirely trusted his motives, they had little choice but to comply. They knew he was a close friend of Sneum, and to freeze him out of their plan would only increase the danger they faced.
Late on the afternoon of Thursday 5 March, Tommy prepared a meal for the trio in Kaj’s flat. He sent them on their way with one last piece of advice. ‘Remember to tie yourselves together with rope just before you step out onto the ice. If one of you goes under, the other two can pull him back out if you’re quick enough. Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that. Keep cool heads and stay together. That way you can still succeed, even on the route you’ve chosen. Good luck.’
The caretaker, Hans Soetje, saw Oxlund and ‘The Russian’ leave at six o’clock in the evening, while Sneum remained in the flat, to pack away and remove the possessions they had left behind. Joining up with Thorbjoern, Kaj and Sigfred travelled forty-five minutes by rail from Copenhagen to Koege. There, they changed trains for a half-hour journey to the quaint village station of Klippinge on the Stevns peninsula. The trio stepped onto the snow and trudged enviously past snug cottages with thatched roofs. Soon they hit an open road and began the two-kilometer hike towards a wood between Gjorslev and Raby. Deep inside that wood they had earlier concealed the sledge and supplies that would go with them on the journey to Sweden. Men going to the North Pole could not have prepared more thoroughly. On the sledge were a tent, blankets, sheets for camouflage, an air-pillow and mattresses upon which to rest the following day, some safety rope and an axe. Their provisions consisted of large amounts of food and drink, cigarettes and even warm coffee in Thermos flasks. Each man was to carry his own length of rope and a long staff to help vault across any cracks in the ice. If anyone fell into the water and had to be pulled out, he knew extra woollen socks and dry underwear would be available to aid his recovery. They all put on white overalls so that their darker clothing wouldn’t show up against the ice and snow. Now they were almost ready.
Between ten and eleven o’clock, they simply waited, taking shots of brandy for warmth and courage. The smell of the alcohol would also lend credence to the usual cover story—that they were only breaking curfew in some sort of drunken prank. Any close examination of the sledge by Danish police or German soldiers would soon show they were lying, but they reckoned it was better to be well prepared than to give extra credence to an alibi they might never need to use. They checked the equipment and waited for the nearest church bells to sound the hour. By eleven the local population had put up their shutters for the night, and the men were ready to move. All the team’s money was given to Thorbjoern, who put it in the inside pocket of his overcoat. Oxlund carried a pistol, though he didn’t tell his accomplices.
They crept out into the flat, barren fields, pulling the sledge behind them. They