THE LOST VIKING SAGA

The second day of training began as previously promised. The men were all gathered together outside a low building to wait for their grooming when Warrant Officer MacGrieve arrived. In what was becoming his expected manner, he took it upon himself to run those men who were waiting for their turn through a cycle of grueling physical exercises. Again, the effect was not what he desired. These were men accustomed to hard work guiding plows, chopping down trees, crushing rock, and all with what the these Englanders would have considered primitive hand tools. What MacGrieve called sit-ups, and pushups, and pull-ups, all presumably designed to strengthen the body, were to the Norsemen just simple stretching exercises to warm up their muscles. After Theobrand had completed his three hundred and fifth pushup, MacGrieve threw his hands in the air and began pacing, conversing with no one in particular. Later they learned from John that the poor man was merely exasperated with the brute strength of the men in his charge. In point of fact his exact words were, “How I am I to be expected to whip a bunch of men into soldiers when they are already more warrior than I can ever be?” It was a turning point in how MacGrieve interacted with the men. Rather than shaping and forming raw recruits, the Warrant Officer began to connect with them as equals. In some areas he even looked upon them as superior, though he was careful to never allow it to seem that way.

As each man, exited the barber’s it became a guessing game as to who they were. The men who emerged were unfamiliar with their close cropped hair, beardless, and dressed alike in the drab military clothing. Often, it was only by speaking that it was possible for them to be recognized. Some, however, because of their size or shape of the body, posed no difficulty at all in determining their identity. John stood next to Olaf, whose blond hair was now shorn, but combed respectably. The bushy beard was gone, leaving his square jaw and firm cheekbones exposed to the air. His look was almost more startling than when John had first laid eyes on him. The Norseman was the Aryan ideal. Hitler himself would have begged this man to join him so perfectly did he mirror the quintessential Nazi. The same could be said of most the Norsemen. If based on appearance alone, John couldn’t help but think that Olaf and his men could enter Germany today and be warmly accepted. It was chilling to think that sometime, in the near future, these men he was growing fond of and appreciating as brothers would be thrust into a more dangerous situation than any of them realized.

Once each man had been properly groomed and transformed into the picture of the ideal Nazi soldier, they proceeded to the drill grounds for more familiarization with the variety of weapons that they could encounter. It was the belief of all the officers involved in the planning that they must be able to recognize and know intimately most forms of German service weapons in order for the deception to be successful. A tent was erected in the middle of an open area. Inside, several tables were set up, a different weapon on each table. The Norsemen were organized into groups and each group assigned a table with an instructor and a translator. Occasionally, a translator would have to consult John for a proper word or phrase, but for the most part they were able to communicate the basic ideas easily. This training lasted throughout the day, breaking only for a midday meal, and an hour in the afternoon for a basic German lesson held in a different tent.

The following day the German and English lessons began in earnest. Four to six hours every day were spent learning the nuances of two new languages while the remainder of their day was spent on a variety of other training related to German military practices. Olaf was proud of his men. Their ability to absorb so much information in so little time was commendable. They approached each and every challenge with resolve. After each lesson, they were seeking out English soldiers to practice their new found skills upon and before long were able to carry themselves with skill in basic conversations. Olaf pondered this long, wondering if perhaps something more significant were happening here. His belief that their diversion to this time was divine in origin increased all the more as the Norsemen seemed to master with relative ease every new thing that was brought before them to learn. By the end of three weeks of language lessons and basic weapons training, Colonel Brundige met them one morning as they ate breakfast in the mess tent.

“Gentlemen, your training proceeds quite nicely. Well done, all of you. I am more than pleased with the progress you have made these past few weeks. I have spoken with my officers and with Olaf concerning our timeline. It is our decision that we attempt to launch Operation Thor’s Hammer by the beginning of June, a mere four weeks away. Your training will now increase in intensity for there is much to complete before that fateful day. It seemed prudent to move forward toward this goal because we have received intelligence that Hitler will be attending a private performance at the Palais Garnier opera house on June Thirteen. The Linden Opera Company of Berlin is commandeering the Palais to present a special mounting of Wagner’s, Die Walkure, in celebration of the one year anniversary of Hitler’s victorious defeat of France. We are told he will be in Belgium to tour a scientific facility on June 10 and plans to make the side trip to Paris, but does not want it widely known. He will be guarded, but perhaps not as heavily as he normally would be because they do not want draw attention to his presence. The opera house itself will be closed for five days under the pretense of renovations, presumably to get the French away. It is extremely important that we capitalize on this opportunity. If Hitler travels in secret there will be fewer people with eyes on what we are endeavoring to do. We will continue to gather information and adjust our plans accordingly, and efforts are presently under way to provide authentic papers that will authorize your presence and entrance into the Palais Garnier. With his being in Paris it makes it easier to initiate your insertion as you will only have to travel through Nazi occupied France and not all of Germany. I feel this increases our probability of success. Again, thank you for your dedication and commitment to this mission. I am more grateful than I can ever express. Carry on.”

With a crisp turn, the Colonel left the tent, leaving them all to mull over this new information and the impending arrival of their mission.

“Olaf, events are moving ever faster. Will be ready for this task?” asked Ebbn.

“We will have to make certain that we are, my friend.”

“It is a daunting task, Olaf,” replied John from his place across the table. “There is much danger involved, especially if you fail or are caught.”

“I do not fear these Nazis. Neither do I fear danger. You forget what we are, John. We are Norsemen. We are hardy. We are warriors. This may be a different time, but it changes not the fact of who we are and what we are capable of. We will engage ourselves in the training that remains with increased vigor and be fully prepared when the day arrives.”

Suddenly, the harsh voice of Warrant Officer MacGrieve beckoned to them from outside the tent.

“Tea time is over, ladies! Time to get to work!”

“Did he just refer to us as women?” asked Bjorn the Giant.

“Perhaps his eyesight is failing,” added Theobrand.

“Or perhaps some of you are women,” goaded Grim the Crafty. “Otherwise, why would you all remain seated in here cackling away when there is work to be done?” With this being said, Grim rushed toward the tent entrance, dodging the hands of several of his brother warriors as he went.

“Come,” Olaf said chuckling. “Let us show MacGrieve what we Norse women are capable of.”

The Norsemen ran out of the tent and onto the drill field where they found the Warrant Officer waiting with a smiling Grim at his side. Behind him, standing by a table was a middle aged man of average height. His graying hair was slicked back and he wore what the Norsemen had since learned were called glasses to aid his vision. The black rimmed round lenses stood out starkly on his pale face. He was dressed similar to them in drab military clothing. His countenance was calm and quiet, but Olaf could see that he was carefully sizing up each and every one of them. Something about the way the man stood suggested a great inner strength and power. On the table were roughly thirty black knives that looked very similar to daggers. It seemed very likely that they were actually going to train with weapons they at least knew something about.

“Listen up,” said MacGrieve commanding their attention. “Behind me here is Dangerous Dan. He is going to be your instructor for the next few weeks. Before we begin though, do any of you little girls want to volunteer to see if you can knock Dan down? He has wagered with me that you can’t. I think I may agree with him.”

The men looked around at each other. Their expressions showed that they were uncertain whether MacGrieve seriously wanted someone to harm this unassuming, possibly fragile man. Thorfinn Skull-splitter, always up for a challenge when it came to displays of strength, stepped forward.

“If you need a real man to do something you seem unwilling to do yourself, MacGrieve. I will tend to him for you.”

MacGrieve smiled. “Thorfinn. Why am I not surprised you would jump at the chance? Fine. As you can see he is right there behind me. What are you waiting for?”

With a mighty bellow, Thorfinn ran toward Dangerous Dan moving to grab the smaller man in a two arm embrace in order to lift him up and throw him down. No one was truly positive what occurred after that. So fast was Dan’s reaction that the entire confrontation lasted no more than four seconds. There was a blur and in short order Thorfinn was lying face down in front of the table. Dan had both of the Norseman’s arms twisted behind his back and was positioned with a knee on the back of Thorfinn’s neck and his other foot firmly in the small of Thorfinn’s back.

“Interesting,” remarked MacGrieve. “Well done, Thorfinn. Excellent work.”

Timid laughter rippled through the group. Dangerous Dan stepped back, releasing Thorfinn from his hold as did so. With a very firm and confident voice he addressed them.

“As you can see, there is much more to facing an adversary than brute force. What I just did to my warrior friend here required very little exertion on my part and yet it left him very much incapacitated. It is my understanding that you are very wary of using the modern weapons of our time. I commend you. I believe them coward’s weapons as well, although at times they do have their use. What I have been tasked to do, is to teach you how to disarm adversaries who wish to use their weapons against you and to teach you something about fighting with bladed weapons you may not know. I have studied history books that make mention of your weapons and fighting styles. I must say that I am very impressed with your innovation in blades, as well as your fortitude and strength. But, I believe that I can teach you something about using your strength in more subtle ways with even greater results. My real name is not Dangerous Dan, but the British military fears that someone may bring harm to me and mine if my proper name is used. I cannot imagine that applies to you, but just in case Hitler has any prying ears snooping around this area; I must insist that you simply call me Dan. It is much easier and less presumptuous. Now…Thorfinn was it?”

Thorfinn nodded, rubbing the back of his neck gently.

“Why was it you thought you could just rush at me and affect your will upon me?”

Thorfinn thought for a moment and replied sheepishly, “Because you are so much smaller than me. I thought it an easy task to overcome and subdue you with my strength alone.”

Dan smirked. “I would have predicted that is what you would say. How then do you think it is that I overcame you, instead of you overcoming me?”

“I know not,” sulked Thorfinn. “Perhaps you are a wizard.”

Dan waited for the laughter to die down in reaction to Thorfinn’s comment before continuing.

“A wizard I surely am not, Thorfinn. I am a mere man, beholden to God’s grace just as any other. Here. Let me show you,” offered Dan as he returned to his position prior to Thorfinn’s charge.

“Now, step a few paces away from me and then come at me again as before only much slower.”

Thorfinn obeyed. He stepped toward Dan slowly, arms out as before. Dan went through a series of very refined movements with his arms and legs, calling each step out to the group so that they could follow his instructions. They were able to observe every maneuver the man had used to bring Thorfinn to the ground with crystal clarity. When he was finished, he asked Thorfinn if he was willing to do it again so that everyone could get the moves clearly ingrained into their minds. They went through the exercise ten times slowly, after which Dan paired the Norsemen off and instructed them to work on the same moves with one of them being the aggressor and the other the defender. Each man was given several opportunities to experience both roles at slow speed before giving them the permission to try it out at full speed. The results ranged from comical to perfect execution with at least one broken finger stemming from the real time attempts. At the end of the practice session, Dan called brought the Norsemen all back together to address them.

“Very good. Some of you have a ways to go before you master some of the basic skills I wish to show you, but I am confident that you will become proficient in them. You will be stretched during your time with me. I will venture to change your ways of thinking when you approach an attacker. You will learn things you may think impossible at first blush. Above all, you will become skilled at subduing opponents who are far better armed and far more deadly than you could imagine. It is my intent to make certain you complete you mission with the minimal amount of casualties and that you return back to England and us successful in what you set out to do. I have observed many of you ogling the items on my table here with something akin to longing. Although we did not have the time to introduce you to this weapon today, it will become a major focus of your training as we progress. All of you will receive one of these elegant weapons as your own. Thank you again for your attentiveness to my instruction.”

Warrant Officer MacGrieve stepped forward immediately after Dan had finished speaking to add further instruction.

“That is all for today. You will be spending the next twenty odd days, rain or shine, with Dangerous Dan so make certain you eat hearty and get plenty of rest tonight. Today was easy compared to what lies ahead. I don’t want any of you ladies getting ill on me. You are dismissed.”

The men dispersed, with the exception of Olaf, who, joined by John, approached Dan. He stood silent, examining the daggers that lay upon the table. Dan looked up when he sensed them drawing near, but said nothing. His eyes were ever moving, ever observing and sizing up Olaf’s imposing frame. Olaf returned his stare, amazed at how capable such an unobtrusive man could be. The Norseman desired to learn as many of the man’s secrets as he was willing to share. His methods would be very useful, not only on the mission, but on the field of battle granting that they ever returned to their own time. He and his men would have a great advantage over their opposition given the opportunity to take these practices with them. Olaf inclined his head toward Dan and spoke.

“You have impressed me this day with your prowess. Your methods indicate a dedication over many years to honing these skills.”

Dan smiled, shaking his head. “My methods were born of necessity I assure you. My body bears the many scars of my fight against evil. I have honed them out of desperation and purpose to bring to justice those who would oppress others by sheer force of numbers and intimidation.”

“Then we are on common ground, my friend. I too seek to see oppressors receive what is due to them. If I may be an instrument of delivery for that due I am ever willing to suffer for that cause.”

“The mission you have offered yourselves to perform proves your noble intentions. I am pleased to be afforded the occasion to at least play a small part in eliminating the Nazi menace,” Dan’s eyes moved toward John, smiling warmly. “And you Professor, I am assuming you were engaged to communicate with these men given your expertise in all things Norse.”

“Indeed,” replied John, surprise arching his eyebrows.

“I make it a point to be informed and well read,” Dan explained. “I have read many of your essays and articles, and recently completed, at my daughter’s suggestion, your delightful tale of fantasy. I foresee a new mythology arising from your excellent work.”

“Thank you, sir,” said John humbly. “It is always encouraging to hear that my work is being read and enjoyed rather than read and critiqued. Your compliments are kind and heart-warming.”

Dan acknowledged John with a nod, turning his attention back to Olaf.

“I am anxious to learn of how you and your men were trained. It may help me in preparing how to present these new ideas to you.”

“Most of us were tutored by my father’s sword master, Sigurd Axe Swinger. He learned from his father before him as did his father’s father. They were well-known among my people for their skill in training warriors. Not only did they train, but they designed and forged their own weapons as well. I am of the opinion that Sigurd knew the Ulfberht better than any man alive. It was their knowledge and mastery that led to their great skill at training men in their use. My own swords were forged by Sigurd’s own son, and they have never failed me in battle.”

“Ulfberht?” asked Dan. “I am afraid I am unfamiliar with the term.

“The Ulfberht was a sword forged with superior steel,” Olaf paused, spoke to John briefly in Norse, who responded to his inquiry, then continued. “My apology; I needed John’s assistance to find the word in English. This superior steel was called Crucible steel. It was a process of heating the ore that allowed the removal of as many of the impurities from the steel as possible so that it was made strong and not weakened in the forging.”

“Ah, refined as by fire,” replied Dan.

“You speak words from the Holy Book?”

“Indeed. It is a constant source of inspiration for me.”

“For me as well. I regret that I do not have mine with me. I find its words much more enduring and applicable for life than any of the old myths ever were.”

“This is as it should be, my friend. I am thrilled to find you a follower. Was it translated into Norse?”

“No. My friend and priest, Father Mathias provided me a copy in Latin. It was the first language outside my own that I learned to understand.”

“I see. You are indeed a remarkable man, Olaf. I am curious though. How do you reconcile the teachings of the Christ with your people’s history of marauding and violence?”

“I renounced the Viking way many years ago and sought to inspire my men to follow me in this. Most of them have, as they are intelligent men with rational minds that were able to see the truth in the Holy Book. There are a handful that cling to the old myths, but I believe only because it is all they have ever known. They see the futility in it, but they fear losing their identity as Norsemen. I am not overly worried about this. They will come around. I believe I did not lose who I was born to be when I converted to the Christ. In fact, I became more myself than I ever could holding to the old ways.”

“Well said, Olaf. Your words show much wisdom.”

Dan watched as Olaf silently resumed regarding the daggers on the table. He picked one up by the blade and directed the hilt toward the Norseman. “I see you are intrigued by these. These are of my design. They are intended for close quarters fighting and for eliminating enemies through stealth. I would be enthusiastic to hear what you think of them. These are but a few of an allotment that were just recently forged per my specifications.”

Olaf took the offered hilt and hefted the knife in his hand.

“It is light,” he remarked testing its point against his palm. “It would seem that it will penetrate with a small amount of pressure yet it is remarkably strong as well. I am impressed.”

“Thank you, Olaf. I call it a fighting knife. I have even developed a method to using it that is quite effective up close either one on one or when overwhelmingly outnumbered. I myself have employed it to dispatch a group of twelve attackers who assaulted me as one group.”

“I can imagine that it is very useful in such situations. The fact you overcame them with this simple weapon is awe inspiring. It is not terribly unlike our own Scramasax,” said Olaf removing his from a sheath at the small of his back. “I must point out, however that your design is less weighty and simpler to wield.”

Olaf handed the weapon to Dan. The man’s eyes sparkled brightly as he examined it, relishing in the opportunity to handle a weapon he had previously only read about.

“This is a fine, beautifully crafted knife, Olaf. In matters of hand to hand combat however, it is far too bulky and harder to maneuver.”

“This I can see, just by comparing the two side by side. I can see why you are so passionate about your innovation. My Scramasax seems much more suited to dressing a boar kill in the wild now that I have handled your weapon. This,” he said emphasizing the fighting knife in his hand, “was made to dispatch a man and that is all. Its simplicity is remarkable. I look forward to using it in training.”

Returning the fighting knife to the table, Olaf was startled when Dan picked it up again and gave it back to him.

“Please. Each of you will receive one of these as your own. There is no reason why you should not have yours now.”

“I offer my thanks to you. This is a fine weapon and I will esteem it highly. Please accept my Scramasax in return for your fine gift.”

Dan shook his head, “I couldn’t take this from you. It was forged for you especially.”

Olaf laughed. “True, this and about two dozen others. It seems it is the only gift my friends and family can think of to give to me.”

“I would prefer that to ties or pipes,” said John chuckling.

“Ties?” asked Olaf.

“Never mind. Some practices in our time do not translate well to your time.”

Holding the Scramasax and admiring its craftsmanship, Dan spoke again. “You honor me more than you know with this gift, Olaf. I will accept it only if you promise me that you will do your best to see this mission succeed.”

“Consider it done, my friend. This will serve me well toward that end I am certain.”

John looked to the gray sky that seemed to be growing greyer.

“It may rain soon, I fear. May we assist you with putting your fighting knives away?”

“Thank you. They are designed to endure the elements but it would not do well to leave them unattended.”

Olaf and John handed the knives to Dan as he secured each one away into a crate that sat below the table. Taking one rope handle on the side of the crate while Dan grasped the other, the two men carried the cargo to the rear of a lorry that sat parked at the edge of the drill field. Once it was stowed in the bed of the truck, Dan stood awkwardly silent not sure what to do next.

“Have they nothing else for you to do today, my friend?” asked Olaf.

“I’m afraid not. I suppose they thought I would need time to prepare my plans for the coming days of training but that was completed many years ago.” Dan pointed to his head. “I find this a much better medium for storing my ideas. It prevents me from having to ruffle through pages of paper each time I engage a group in training.”

“If only that would work for a writer,” said John. “My desk is piled high with reams of notes and ideas. I fear my filing system is not the most efficient.

“One would never guess from the depth and creativity you exhibit in your writing,” complimented Dan.

“If you have no other matters to attend to, then I would have you accompany me for the remainder of the day,” offered Olaf.

“I would enjoy that, Olaf. I expect we have much we can exchange with one another when it comes to matters of strategy and warfare.”

“That is settled then. Come, Dan, walk with us.”

“Please,” said Dan. “I would have you call me by my true name. This clandestine paranoia would not keep me from having you interact with me as a true ally. This cannot be a reality if I continue to have you refer to me by an alias. Call me William.”

“William it is then. Walk with us.”

William smiled and together the three men strolled off together with no intended destination.