2nd Police Company – The Battle at Chapkosero, 7th March 1944

Rolf Orenes's Account

After the New Year of 1944 things had grown increasingly unsettled on the Kandalaksha front, where the Russians were making preparations for the great offensive that would, among other things, destroy the Norwegian Ski Battalion. Across the whole sector, Russian forces were advancing with reconnaissance units of up to battalion strength; and it was one such battalion that on the 7th of March 1944 struck the 2nd Norwegian Police Company, then stationed at Chapkosero as the furthest-forward outpost to the east.

The company, under the command of Company Commander Beck, comprised four platoons, each of four sections — sixteen sections in all, every one equipped with a light machine gun. Normal section strength was ten men, though not all sections were at full establishment.

The company had disposed itself in two strongpoints, with half the company at each. Commander Beck had command of one strongpoint, situated on a sort of islet surrounded by water or bog — though at this season everything was covered in snow and frozen solid. A fringe of woodland immediately surrounding the position provided concealment but simultaneously impeded the view outward. Beyond this belt of trees, the ground lay open for several hundred metres before the forest resumed.

The garrison of the strongpoint numbered 72 men. The other half of the company had established themselves in a second strongpoint some two kilometres distant.

The company was the sole Norwegian unit on this section of the front, the units to its right and left being German. It had arrived on the Kandalaksha front in February 1943 and remained there until May 1944.

Russian activity had not gone unremarked, and when on the 7th of March they advanced with a reinforced battalion — some 600 men — they found the Norwegians at the highest state of readiness.

Beck's 72 men had arranged themselves with one timber bunker per section, so positioned that the bunkers mutually supported one another. The whole was ringed with barbed wire, and each section had posted a sentry.

The weather was clear and cold.

The Russian battalion sent patrols ahead, and owing to the woodland and the darkness these succeeded in reaching the wire and cutting through it undetected. Only when the Russians were already inside did the sentries become aware of them and fire the alarm. The time was 04.30.

On the company's right flank lay the bunker of 1st Section, 1st Platoon, with Section Commander Kåre Berg and Rolf Orenes as first machine-gunner. Roused by the shooting, the entire section came storming out and took up position — but by then the Russians were barely five or six metres away.

Orenes threw the machine gun into position, but could not make the automatic mechanism function: it had frozen solid. "Confounded cold!" He therefore dropped the machine gun and fell to throwing hand grenades, whilst the section's two riflemen — one on each side of him — began picking off Russians with aimed fire. This proved insufficient against the mass that was pressing in. Matters looked decidedly grim, and grew grimmer still when the Russians brought forward a flame-thrower and swept it back and forth across the position.

"We were frightened," said Orenes — "simply frightened. We withdrew four or five metres behind the bunker for protection from the flames, and shouted for help at the tops of our voices."

Help arrived — a mere seven men, but they were seasoned soldiers who knew no hesitation, and their leader, Under-Section Commander Johan Gundersen of Grimstad, was not a man given to prolonged deliberation. With a roar, this powerfully built individual charged forward at the head of his men; simultaneously the company commander came running up. Seeing his first machine-gunner standing there throwing grenades, he shouted: "Why aren't you shooting?" — "It won't work! It's too cold!" Orenes replied.

Beck then seized the machine gun himself and fired from the hip — but obtained only single shots. The automatic mechanism would not function.

Meanwhile grenades flew from both sides, as the Russians were similarly equipped. One grenade found Company Commander Beck, tearing open his entire right side. Beck fell, but his last ringing order was: "Don't let the swine take you!"

A furious battle ensued; the Norwegians pressed forward to avenge their fallen commander and drive out the Russians. The reserve that had come up carried half a case of grenades, but these were soon exhausted. The grenades flew thick as hail against the Russians; then Gundersen leapt up and charged, followed by all the others, with Orenes at his side.

Two Russians had got inside the bunker and were doing their best, though not for long. With a sub-machine gun held by the barrel, Gundersen stove in the skull of one; the other suddenly found himself in Orenes's grip, who had gained the upper hand and was pressing the man's arms to his sides. A furious wrestling match ensued to the accompaniment of exploding grenades — back and forth they strained until the Russian's arms went slack, whereupon Orenes flung him away with a vigorous shove, drew his bayonet, and thrust — and that particular Russian would not be troubling any more Norwegians.

"It was dreadful," Orenes reflected. "But it was him or me."

The other Norwegians had meanwhile dealt with those Russians who had climbed onto the bunker roof, and the strongpoint was once again entirely in the company's hands. With this effort the section had broken the back of the Russian attack — fortunately, since they had only one man wounded. But their Company Commander Beck was dead.

From the two fallen Russians inside the bunker, the Norwegians took two sub-machine guns — a considerable reinforcement — and these worked perfectly. They blazed away!

The Russians now withdrew, and with some urgency when a Norwegian flanking post with a heavy machine gun opened up, sweeping the ground all the way to the wire.

After a comparatively quiet interval of about half an hour, the next attack came in. Four Germans who had remained in the strongpoint had set up a 3.5 cm mortar — the Norwegians had none such — and with this mortar and their own weapons the garrison beat back three separate Russian attacks that morning. Each time the Russians committed roughly 300 men, advancing in the characteristic Russian 'surprise formation' — packed together like a wall of flesh, with no preparatory fire.

"Damnably easy to repel such an attack, when one has decent weapons."

The attacking troops were Russian élite — the very units employed in the great offensive to follow.

When the attacks had been driven off, the Norwegians had three grenades left and one case of ammunition. Had the Russians attempted one more assault, they would have broken through.

At around noon, when the Norwegians went out to examine what lay in the field, 20 Russians came towards them with their hands raised and surrendered. Several were severely wounded.

Some of the wounded Russians then suddenly opened fire on the Norwegians — "and we had no choice but to throw ourselves down and shoot accurately, until all the Russians were dead."

"When we had finished, we found we were damnably hungry, and accordingly began rummaging through the Russian packs and the stores they had brought forward on reindeer-sleds. We were fortunate. The Russians were liberally supplied with such agreeable things as American chocolate, and so we held a sort of gala dinner on the spot."

"We had telegraphed for reinforcements, and when we saw a unit of about 40 men in white camouflage approaching, we took them for our own and waved. They waved back. But suddenly they deployed in line and opened fire. We threw ourselves down and returned fire."

Some of the Norwegians attempted to outflank the Russians and take them in the rear; in this action the German Burgdorf was killed. A couple of Russians managed to escape. In all, the Russians lost 126 dead and 26 prisoners, whilst the strongpoint's garrison lost two men killed and one slightly wounded.

Johan Gundersen was recommended for the Iron Cross First Class. He never received it. It was awarded instead to the German who had taken command when Company Commander Beck fell.

Matters then quietened somewhat; in April the company was relieved by the Ski Battalion, which would find itself on the receiving end of the great Russian offensive that subsequently destroyed it. The battalion lay, as Norwegians invariably did, furthest forward to the east.