An adventure inside the mountain

- You should probably put on a jumper, advises Ole Z. Torkildsen where we are standing, in glorious sunshine and a couple of twenty degrees. However, it is not that hot where we are going, in the interior of the mountain in the Knaben II mine.

- It's always 7 degrees in there. As one of the directors here put it: It was a perfect temperature from the employer's point of view. In there, you had to work to keep warm, smiles the guide before he leads the way up to the lift house where the mine walks on Knaben start.

The wealth that became the target of war

The mine we are about to enter was Western Europe's largest molybdenum sulphide mine when it was shut down in 1973 - and is today Norway's only publicly owned mining facility where both the lift house, the lift tower and the laundry are intact.

- The mine was in operation 19 floors down the mountain, and planned all the way down to 21. The elevator shaft runs at an angle all the way down. It's 280 metres, says Ole Z. and shows the bow to the lift operator. The lift cable that runs from the drum up towards the lift tower is as thick as a mooring line. It is still flimsy compared to the wire beyond, which drove the stone lift itself.

When we have put on the helmets, the guide unlocks Axel Johnson's Stoll. Meter by meter we move into the mountain. Ole Z. stops at a partially collapsed wooden room.

- Here there was a break room where the shooting bases popped the fuse. They bit around the fang caps to seal completely against the fuse, while they smoked and drank coffee. It was about having teeth that suited the job, he says.

The bedrock here at Knaben is so rich in minerals that lightning could strike the mountain. Therefore, the fang caps had to lie several meters inside the stollen. The dynamite was stored even further inside, at the end of a long, narrow and winding side passage where the cradles ran on wooden rails for the last bit so as not to create sparks.

Mining was not without accidents, however. Many happened because the price of the fuses was deducted from the chord. As a result, some used fuses as short as possible, sometimes too short, explains Ole Z.

The war target Knaben

However, the most dramatic days in Knaben's history were not due to accidents in the mountain's interior. They were due to bombs dropped from the air.

Molybdenum can be used to make steel stronger, for example in cannon barrels, armor steel and other war equipment. When the First World War broke out, it created a pure Klondyke atmosphere at Knaben, and as many as nine mines were started to meet the demand.

When the Germans attacked Norway in 1940, only two of them remained: A small mine in Lier and A/S Knaben Molybdængrube. Knaben II was actually Europe's largest molybdenum mine - and thus absolutely crucial for Hitler's war machine.

The occupying power sent around 1,000 men to guard the mountain village deep in the moors of Southern Norway. That did not, however, prevent the Allies from hitting the war target. Allied planes bombed Knaben twice.

In the first attack, on 3 March 1943, 10 British Mosquito aircraft took part. 16 Norwegians and one German mining engineer were killed. On 16 November of the same year, a new attack came - divided between the two most important targets in southern Norway: the molybdenum mines at Knaben and the heavy water plant at Vemork. Of the total of 263 American B-17 bombers, 131 were heading for Knaben. This time no civilians lost their lives.

But Ole Z. can tell about dramatic stories, especially during the first attack. Before the second bombing, shelters were built, and people were given time to get to safety before the bombs hit.

The sound of the mining town

We have now climbed the stairs to the largest machine in Knaben's interior: the Storknuseren where the large stones were crushed into smaller pieces. It stood day and night, and formed the sound of Ole Z.'s childhood: It sounded roughly like a deep didgeridoo, judging by the Knaben guide's imitation.

From the large crusher, the stone went the same way as we are going: Out. But where the stone was ground to dust by three more machines, we will see the rest of the mining town of Knaben.

Most visible is Sanden, the huge landfill of fine-grained mining sand that fills what was once Store and Lille Knabetjødn. Before the area was drained, there were danger signs warning that the sand can turn into quicksand in wet weather.

The first stop is the old administration building, which today houses the Knaben Mining Museum. On the first floor, mining history is shown in large and small, while the second floor is like traveling back in time. There is the director's own residence exactly as it was, with a Christmas-decorated living room, a cigar room for the men and the director's wife's party room, and the bathtub which, according to Ole Z., was one of two in all of Vest-Agder in its time.

- Knaben was a very stratified society. With the director at the top. When he said "jump", both the sheriff and the priest jumped, he says, and says that he himself was lucky.

At the bottom of the hill is the party room Potetkjelleren, where Ole Z. himself has collected hundreds of objects that tell the history of the Knaben people, and Knaben Landhandel, which was not even closed when the mine closed and Knaben was abandoned in the 70s. A bullet hole in the roof facing the rental flats still bears witness to the time when German officers patrolled the area.

The railway up the mountain

The boy can also entice with much more than mining history. In winter, the alpine center offers both alpine slopes and cross-country trails, while in summer the entire mountain is transformed into a gigantic hiking area.

Along the road below Knaben farm, Leif Hunsbedt is ready to take us on the place's airiest trip: Up the 406 steep altitude meters in the Knaben Via Ferrata.

- You have two identical carabiner hooks in the climbing harness. Both must be clipped around the wire before you climb, advises Leif and explains how we must always loosen one hook at a time at the fasteners, so that at least one carabiner always keeps us secured.

As long as we remember that, the railway is completely safe, he assures.

- The climbing harnesses can withstand two tonnes, and the mounts in the mountain can withstand six tonnes. So really, one hook could have held the whole group, he says.

A couple of hours later we stand at the top of Knabekniben. The mountain has been defeated, and only a ragged helmet weld and good memories testify that we have just climbed a road that even short-fuse-swearing shooting bases would have steered clear of.

Text and photo: Gjermund Glesnes.