ATLANTIC DEFENCE

Nelson Evening Mail, Volume 76, 28 October 1941, Page 2

ATLANTIC DEFENCE

ICELAND’S IMPORTANCE GERMANY’S PRE-WAR INTEREST Far up in the north, near the Arctic Circle, a small island has assumed strategic importance in the Battle of the Atlantic, says a writer in the Mel bourne “Age." One of the most useful stepping stones on the sea route between Great Britain and North America is Iceland, v/hich is playing a definite part in the successful carrying out of America’s vital aid to Britain. After the fall of Denmark last year, British and Canadian troops were landed at Reykjavik, the capital city of Iceland, equipped with tanks, armoured cars and guns, as the initial pre. paration for the defence of the island. This action was effected with a minimum of publicity, and the uniformed men of the two forces were soon a cc mmon sight about the island, v/hich to practically every man in the little army was a completely unknown country. Iceland is about 300 miles long by 200 miles wide, with more than 100,000 inhabitants, who are a highly civilised people of mixed Norwegian and Celtic descent. They are governed by the world’s oldest Parliament, the Althing, first founded in 930, but had been for many years 1 ruled by Denmark’s king, until 1918, 1 when Denmark recognised Iceland as j a sovereign State, although still sharing the same king. j Situated midway between Greenland and Norway, the island comes j well within the war zone as proclaimed •by Germany in the early stages of the war. The Gulf Stream gives the coast, with its deep bays and open ports, a warmth that is unusual so far north. This stream also keeps the harbours free from ice, which makes them perfect bases for war ships and seaplanes, except on an average of one year in four when the persistent north and north-westerly gales bring floes of ice from Greenland to the north-west coast of the island. ROADS FOR GUN CARRIERS j The main industries of the island j are fishing and sheep-farming. Prosperous little communities are dotted about the country, connected with j each other and the main city by the 3000 miles of excellent roads which i have been built by the Icelandic GovI ernment to open up the interior of the island, and which arc now an invalu--1 able aid to the troops in occupation. The Icelanders were somewhat hostile ' when they first witnessed the British I Bren-gun carriers traversing their I hitherto peaceful roads, and the erecI tion of machine-gun nests on strategic sections of their countryside. But thii ; hostility was soon replaced with friendliness when it was realised that the British and Canadian troops intended it: keep to themselves as much at j possible, without interfering in any , way with the normal life of the J people. | About one in every four persons in Iceland speaks English, mainly be- [ cause of the numbers of fishermen from the North of England, and also . from Canada, who have visited the ’ I island on fishing trips. Many of the ! I young Icelanders had, in years gone ; by, sought adventure in Canada, and .; on their return had brought a some- ■ j what garbled version of the English • J language back to their native land. ; Thus members of the army of occu- ; j pation found no difficulty in making j themselves understood when they ; first arrived on the island. GERMANY’S INTEREST For many years the Germans have had a very extensive knowledge of i Iceland and the Icelanders. They 1 have had a special reason for culti--1 vating this knowledge, as there have • been fjund many documents relating 1 to the ancient literature and religion which the two people had shared in days long gone by. This interest was 1 deepened by the foundation of the : Islandfreunde, an affiliation of so--5 cieties throughout Germany which ! encouraged interest in Icelandic his- : tory and literature. Later the interest took a more practical turn, and, after the last war, German flyers ‘ found Iceland and Greenland were 1 excellent stopping places when flying 'he Atlantic. The German Government concerned itself with the edu--1 cation of the Icelandic children, and sent lecturers in German history and science to the University of Iceland, 1 and physical training instructors to | the schools. It was also decided to : teach the Icelanders the thrills of ; glider flying. Skilled instructors arrived from German aerodromes. Aero- , planes equipped with photographic ' appliances surveyed the country to ! determine the best position for the r new gliding fields. There can be no \ doubt that the potential value of Iceland as a strategic base in the ; Atlantic was realised by Germany long before the outbreak of the present war. The United States also realised the same fact, and in July of this year President Roosevelt announced that U.S. naval forces had landed in Iceland. Recent developments and the sinking of several American ships in the vicinity of the island have proved the importance of this decision, which was presumably made to ensure that the sea lanes between America and the British Isles would remain open in any circumstances. What is reported as the first casualty on land west of the main channel of the Atlantic in this war took place at Reykjavik in February, 1941, when a Nazi photographing plane flew low i over the port, and, in addition to ! taking photographs, shot at and wounded two soldiers who were on duty. AUSTRALIAN LINK Australia has a slight historical link with this land which is so far distant from the southern hemisphere. The bare outlines of the story tell of a Danish privateer, Jorgen Jorgensen, who, early in the nineteenth century, was engaged by the British Government to carry supplies to Iceland during the Napoleonic wars. On landing he found the people hungry and dissatisfied with the existing government. Jorgensen gratified his love of the theatrical by imprisoning the Danish governor, and electing himself King of Iceland. His reign was shortlived, as three weeks later he was, in turn, taken prisoner by a British admiral, and brought tSack to England. Years later he was transported to Van Diemen’s Land for the trivial offence of pawning his landlady’s linen to pay his gambling debts. He served his sentence, and later became constable at Oatlands, which post he held at the time of his death in 1842.