The White Buses

Warning: some readers may find some of this content distressing.

On our final day the weather, which had previously been warm and sunny, turned and we were forced to abandon our plans of going for a swim in the harbour and headed of to a museum instead.

Today’s museum of choice was the National Museum of Denmark and we wove our way chronologically through the Stone, Bronze and Iron ages as well as learning about the Vikings, Middle Ages and all the way through to the present day. Suffice it say that the museum gave us a fantastic insight into what it is to be a Dane.

The temporar exhibition at the time of our visit was of ‘the white buses’ a rescue mission carried out by the Red Cross during the Second World War.

In 1940 Nazi Germany invaded Denmark ‘peacefully’ yet as you can imagine this didn't last long and in 1943 six thousand members of the Danish police forces were imprisoned and sent to the concentration camps. 

The exhibition was harrowing to say the least yet the death rate of these 6000 was fairly low at 10% whilst in comparison out of 4.5 million Polish prisoners the death rate was a terrifying 81%. Whether this was due to the prisoners being put to death by gas chambers or otherwise or they died in the camps of starvation or exhaustion it is very hard to tell yet it is believed that the Danish prisoners were spared a one way visit to the ‘showers’. 

The main reason why the death toll in Danish prisoners was considerably lower compared to other nationalities is because of the ration boxes sent by the Red Cross. These boxes were literally a lifeline to the malnourished and freezing cold Danes as they contained not only food but also clothes and tobacco.

Tobacco was a crucial commodity in the camps as it used to barter and in some ways was a type of currency. When these boxes arrived however they did not reach to intended recipient unopened. Indeed after the Nazi officers and wardens had had their pick there wasn't  that much left.

The rescue mission started in earnest in 1944 with the ‘white buses’. Under the pretence of moving  the Danish prisoners to another camp the Red Cross and its volunteers would take them to neutral Sweden where they received a heros welcome. The journey however was a treacherous one as despite the fact that the buses were white like an ambulance did not mean that they were safe from bombing.  

After a quick trip to Christianborg to look around the grounds we went back to Nyhavn for a late lunch. before returning to our hotel to pick up bags and setting off towards the airport where  in the morning we were homeward bound.

Wonderful, wonderful Copenhagen

We were up before the crack of dawn (3am) to get down to Luton for our early morning flight. From Copenhagen airport we took a train to the central station where our hotel was located yet upon arrival at the station we took a wrong turning and ended up taking the scenic route….and be scenic I mean train tracks, dual carriageways and warehouses. 

However when we (finally) arrived at the hotel we were to discover that are room would not be ready until 3pm so we left our bags with the concierge and went off for a spot of exploration. 

En route to the city centre we bought a 48 hour bus pass which allowed us to board any ‘Red Bus’ around the city and hop on and hop off at our leisure as it meandered around some of the cities most famous tourist attractions. We payed 215 DK for the pass and this also included a boat tour (more on that later) 

After some time wandering around the streets of the city centre we stopped for a spot of lunch at Huk Fuchs in a picturesque square. Between the two of us we ate a lunch plate which included pickle herring and succulent duck and Skansk toast and a side of salted almonds.

In the afternoon we took advantage of the sightseeing tour; taking in the many parks, gardens and waterways of the island city as well as learning about the cities architecture.

I very much enjoyed seeing the rows upon rows of yellow houses commissioned by Christian IV. These houses were intended to be homes for the members of the armies and their families much like the village of Saltaire was built to house the factory workers. 

To the end of the tour we hopped off the bus and strolled along the waterfront yet were stopped in our tracks by the sound of music. Up ahead was what looked like a dome shaped greenhouse in a kind of hexagonal honeycomb design where a band were having a jam session. With a hot chocolate i(for me) and beer (for mother) in hand we stayed a while and embraced our new home. (At least for a few days)