Minor footnotes in wars can have far-reaching effects, though they never achieve the celebrity status that they perhaps deserve, writes Mike Gray, Deputy Editor of Navy News.

Such minor actions can still encompass acts of incredible bravery, flashes of inspiration and pivotal decisions – and in rare cases, such actions can help shape the history of a nation.

One such footnote saw an audacious foray by Royal Navy cruiser HMS Glasgow into the inferno of Molde as the town, the de facto capital of Norway for just a week or so, was all but obliterated by waves of German bombers.

Waiting at the edge of a wood in the north of the town was King Haakon VII and his son, much of the country’s government – and hidden in a warehouse among the debris was the majority of Norway’s gold reserve, some 23 tons of bullion which the Nazi war machine would have found very good use for.

The glorious sunshine and snow-capped mountains reflected in the still waters of the Romsdalfjord on April 29, 2004, could not have been more different to the mayhem of April 29, 1940.

The Norwegian campaign of that year had been a catalogue of failures on both the Allied and Axis sides – but a campaign studded with vignettes of bravery and heroism.

Norway had hoped to maintain neutrality, but her coastal sea lanes were a vital route for the transport of Swedish iron ore from the port of Narvik, and other ports provided ready access to the North Sea and out into the Atlantic.

Germany coveted these strategic assets – and Britain was determined they should be denied to the enemy.

One of the first significant military clashes of the campaign came when the destroyer HMS Glowworm encountered a heavy German force, and sank after ramming and damaging the heavy cruiser Hipper as the little British ship was battered by crippling gunfire.

Her dogged Commanding Officer, Lt Cdr Gerard Roope, who died as a result of the action, was the first to win a naval Victoria Cross in the war.

On April 9 the Germans carried out the first large-scale joint amphibious invasion in history when they put paratroopers and seaborne troops into key Norwegian ports.

But the crucial attack on Oslo went badly wrong when the Oscarborg fort on Oslo Fjord opened fire with antique (German) guns on the new German cruiser Blucher, following up with a couple of torpedoes which sank the warship with the loss of 1,000 men.

This delayed the assault on the capital, and gave the Royal Family and Government the chance to flee north; also on the road north was a fleet of lorries loaded with Norway’s gold reserve from the national bank.

After evading the advancing German troops and bombing raids, moving from town to town, the fugitives and the gold arrived in Molde on April 23, effectively making the town the capital of Norway.

At this point southern Norway was lost to the Germans, and resistance in central Norway was being ruthlessly crushed.

Hopes hung on a fightback from the north, where subsequent daring destroyer raids on Narvik – with help from the battleship Warspite – inflicted the first major German military defeat.

The Royal party, government and gold had to be moved on as German forces moved in on Molde with orders to kill the king. The only feasible escape route was by sea, but the task would be by no means an easy one.

Elsewhere in Europe the Low Countries and France were soon to fall before the German advance, and British forces would be withdrawn to fight on other fronts, abandoning Norway to her fate for the time being.

But King Haakon had to be rescued – and so it fell to the cruiser HMS Glasgow, based at Scapa Flow, to snatch king, government and gold in one fell swoop before the Germans got to them.

Success meant the Norwegians would have a legitimate government in exile and a reason to fight on. Failure would be a crushing blow to the Nordic nation and the morale of the Allies.

Sixty-four years on, eight Glasgow veterans who travelled to Molde at the invitation of the Norwegians, and the three-day visit was brimming with contrasts and emotions to wonder at – not least the renaissance of the neat little town, now famous for its roses and summer jazz festival.

For most of the veterans, their last sight of Molde had been an angry red glow in the night sky as their warship zig-zagged wildly down the fjord towards the open sea and the temporary safety of Tromso.

Along with destroyers Jackal and Javelin, Glasgow had left as the bombers returned – the sight was described by one of the participants as like seeing bats circling in a dusky sky – and in her haste the cruiser did some damage of her own to the town.

“When we departed we took a bit of the jetty with us,” Stan Henty told those gathered at a gala dinner in honour of the returning heroes.

“I apologise for that – if you want to find it, it’s in the water, just the other side of your football stadium.”

The speeches by Stan (a Corporal of Royal Marines at the time) and fellow veteran Reg Samways (Officers’ Cook) at the dinner were typical of the visit – raising smiles and laughter which reflected the happiness of the reunion without detracting from the sombre remembrance.

Listening intently – and occasionally disagreeing on a point of detail – were the other six; Arthur Hughes (then an Ordinary Seaman), Bill Watts (Boy Seaman), Jeffrey Russell (Telegraphist), John Ross (Boy Seaman), Fred Bunt (Stoker First Class) and Norman Andrews (CPOERA). John Ross and Bill Watts had flown in from Australia for the visit.

There was much to be grateful for in the wartime incident – although the town was all but destroyed in regular and methodical bombing raids, the death toll was mercifully low as many citizens had a chance to escape into the surrounding countryside.

Glasgow herself, though presenting a prime target lit by the burning town, was not hit by bombs during the incident.

Pictures by Magne Åhjem Royal Norwegian Navy, unless otherwise stated.

Read Glasgow veterans get heroes’ welcome in Norway - Part 2 here.

View a full gallery of images here.