Christmas in Iceland - 15.12.1940, Blaðsíða 24

The British come to Iceland
By an Icelander
Long before the dawn of May 10th, I was
awakened by the thundering of aeroplanes
over Reykjavik, the capital of Iceland. This
was somewhat astdonishing. What were they
doing?They might be Icelandic . . . but at
that early hour surely not. We have only a
few civil planes. We use them to carry passen-
gers over the inland desert, between the North
and the South. But nobody ever flies at that
hour in Iceland.
The only other planes we have are the her-
ring spotting planes. This, I know, sounds a
little unreasonable, for the tasty herring is no
bird, nor is it a flying-fish, even up here in
Iceland. We use our „spotting planes” to lo-
cate the shoals of fish — a shoallooks like a
dark blue blot against the usually greenish
colour of the sea. But the thundering of aero-
planes surely did not come from our delicate
little herring planes. For the noise came con-
stantly from directly above the roofs of slum-
bering Reykjavik.
Was this thundering the sound of war? The
thought made me uneasy, but I soon fell sleep
again.
Probably it was an hour later, when what
sounded like a single plane scudded over the
city again and wakened me with a jerk.
Through the open window of my bedroom
I saw it was not an Icelandic one. As a sound
of its high-powered engine died away, another
sound floated through my window. It was a
sound I never heard before, and a sound which
has not been heard in my country, Iceland,
for about seven centuries. It was the rhyth-
mical tramping of soldiers.
I said something to myself in my own lan-
guage which, politely translated into English,
was: „Can it be that the „Maddogs” of Ger-
many have arrived?” This was the most un-
pleasant thought I have ever had in my life.
I knew that the little would-be „Maddogs”
of Iceland did not like me any better than
I liked their chief German, “Herr Maddog”
(pronounced “mad dog”).
I really thought that the “Maddogs” had
arrived, and for some moments I felt all the
bitterness of the defeated. To crown it all, a
frensh batch of troops came tramp-tramp-
tramping close to the building. But from my
window I could not see them. I thought for
a while. Then I said to myself: “You know you
are disposed to bad humor if you don’t get
your eight hours’ sleep“. So I decided I would
have it. I tried to forget what I had heard,
and to get some more sleep. I succeeded in.
both.
When I awoke again it was about eight
o’clock and, going to the window, I heard all
the usual sounds of my home town. I could
see — from my window — nothing unusual
. . . . only the morning fires smoking thick-
ly, an occasional motor horn, newspapers boys
yelling loudly — everything seemed so usual.
I was sure I must have been dreaming. I
dressed and went downstairs. When I came
out of the lift I met the porter, who asked
me what thought of the British.
The British?
Yes. The British had arrived! There were
thousands of soldiers, with machine guns,
cannons, aeroplanes and everything.
I went out. The streets and cafes were full
of people. I felt quite embarrassed. I must
have been one of the last of the towns in-
habitants to rise from bed that morning. Sol-
diers were to be seen everywhere — singly
and in small detachments.
I liked the young, clean and well-uniformed
men. Their chief merit, however, was that they
were not Germans.
Then I heard all the news from friends of
mine. They said: ,,It has been declared that
the British will stay here until the war is over.
They have said that they will quit the coun-
try then. During the stay they will in no way
22
CR1STMAS IN ICELAND