After Occupation

Last time hostile armies lay in Oslo was in 1716; last time invaders attacked Copenhagen was in 1807. Last week these old capitals surveyed the results of a fortnight's German occupation, arrived at slightly different conclusions.

In Copenhagen there was quiet. Though King Christian's tiny Army was not yet demobilized, Danes already accepted German soldiers as they accepted their helmeted policemen. Without much fuss the easygoing Danes also accepted other things: rigid blackouts, no more light beer, spirits, stricter rationing of coffee, tea and sugar, every private automobile ordered off Danish streets after 7 p.m.

Broom-bearded old Premier Thorvald Stauning announced a survey of Danish cereal stocks, directed that working hours be increased, that spring planting be more intensive. A cheery German radio announcer last week reported that he had visited Copenhagen and seen no melancholy Danes; but observers who had already observed Nazi protection to the south thought he might soon find many.

In Oslo, as the fortnight wore on, there was no peace. Leland Stowe had written of the first day of the invasion, "Like children, the people stared." Some of them fled to the mountains, but most stayed in Oslo's streets--while German soldiers bivouacked in Karl-Johans Boulevard and sang Rhenish love songs.

Of a battle at Elverum, a siege at Narvik, Osloans knew nothing. When an isolated radio station high in Telemark kept broadcasting the fugitive Government's reports, German troops found and destroyed it lest South Norway hear more. No Oslo newspaper could publish until it had agreed to print the manifesto of Norse-Nazi Major Vidkun Quisling's junto. Arbeiderbladet, organ of Premier Nygaardsvold's Party, refused and suspended. Arbeideren, Norwegian Communist paper, readily acceded and reappeared urging abandonment of "provocative resistance."

Osloans, now beginning to get their backs up, could and did resist self-appointed Premier Quisling. Failing to get cooperation from the people, Quisling gave way last week to a new puppet regime, headed by 68-year-old Infgolf Elster Christensen, former Conservative Cabinet Minister, since 1929 Governor of Oslo District. Blessed by the Norwegian Supreme Court, this regime was described by Berlin as the legally constituted Government of Norway. Aside from the ubiquitous Quisling, who was put in charge of demobilization, nearly all members of the interim Government were local Government officials and businessmen.

Theatres and churches continued to function, 90% of the citizens were said to have returned to their jobs, the puppet Government urged nonresistance. When Germans offered reichsmarks they got what they wanted to buy--at 1.66 kroner (40-c-) per reichsmark. Nevertheless, with its King in hiding, the city blacked out, food falling short and young men slipping off to the hills every night to join their Army, Oslo finally became resentful. Nazis shot snipers as usual. At least 100 Osloans were executed, many for refusing to chauffeur Germans to the front.

Because of the Norwegian Government's "insane resistance against the Germans, whom self-preservation has forced to come to protect the country," Germany went through the farce of breaking diplomatic relations with embattled King Haakon VII. Arne Scheel, the King's envoy, was sent packing from Berlin on two hours' notice, no one bothering to see him off after 19 years' service in Germany.

The German envoy to Oslo, Dr. Kurt Brauer, remained at his post. He remained, however, to direct German forces against Norway from its occupied capital. Osloans at last realized that they were at war.

This file is automatically generated by a robot program, so reader's discretion is required.