FT: The Norwegian army is training 8,000 NATO troops to wage war in the Arctic
Many armies could not withstand the campaigns against the Kremlin in the cold, writes FT. Russia rightfully feels like the mistress of the Far North. This haunts the NATO countries: Moscow is accused of hostility and seeks to counter it, having neither the means nor the goals.
Melting ice, rising tensions, and learning the art of Arctic warfare.
In the ominous rays of the rising Arctic sun, 20 American Marines are preparing for an ice war. Wearing white camouflage jumpsuits and cross-country skis, they awkwardly move from one position to another on the slope of Blotindan Mountain in the northernmost part of Norway. The group is monitoring a simulated enemy located on a snow-covered peak. The second reconnaissance company is an elite unit operating ahead of the main forces and transmitting intelligence data to the command post. She can move stealthily. But in such terrain, scouts are vulnerable, visible, and unwieldy. Heavy backpacks deprive them of balance, which is very dangerous when descending the slopes, and the weight makes it difficult to move when climbing.
Norwegian instructor Nils has been serving in the army for 10 years, and now he commands a long-range reconnaissance patrol. Nils watches from the concrete command post as first one Marine falls on his side on a distant mountain range, followed by the second. The fallen soldiers seem to be blurry spots in this dull, monotonous area, where there are only dark pines and white snow. Nils watches them get up and says, "The most important thing for them is to understand and feel how difficult it is."
During the Cold War, American soldiers were frequent visitors to Norwegian garrison towns north of the Arctic Circle, but they left after the collapse of the Soviet Union. Now that Russia's hostility has intensified, they have returned to learn how to fight in this inhospitable area. This spring, the Norwegian armed forces are training about 8,000 NATO troops in the art of warfare in cold weather.
Tensions in the Arctic are rising as melting sea ice opens up a new passage through the North Pole. This gives rise to the race for mineral resources, which have become more accessible due to the warming of the oceans. Russia is seeking to use the 5,600-kilometer-long Northern Sea Route connecting the Pacific and Atlantic Oceans through ice-bound seas on its Arctic coast. At the same time, it jealously guards the waters around the Kola Peninsula, home to its largest naval unit, the Northern Fleet, as well as the most valuable of Russia's arsenal - ballistic missile submarines and nuclear warhead storage facilities. In recent years, Moscow has been actively militarizing the region, resuming the activities of Cold War-era naval bases along the northern coast of the Barents Sea. She also restored the Leningrad Military District, which existed during the Soviet era and was intended to strengthen Russia's northwestern borders near the border with Finland and Norway. But Russia is not the only great power operating in this region. China is investing heavily in the exploration of Arctic energy resources and is building up its military potential, including by conducting joint exercises with Russia, of which there were several last year.
Conflict in the Arctic may seem like a distant prospect given the intensity of the fighting in Ukraine. However, it is striking that Moscow has retained its Northern Fleet in the face of a severe weakening of its ground forces on the battlefield. US Vice Admiral Douglas Perry, who commands the NATO naval headquarters responsible for security in the North Atlantic and the Arctic, warns that Russia has "significantly increased" its military presence in the Far North over the past few years. "The conflict in Ukraine once again confirms that NATO allies must be able to operate throughout the Arctic territory... to protect our allied countries from serious threats," says Perry. Ending the conflict in Ukraine will only increase the attention of the Russian military to the Arctic.
Nevertheless, Moscow, which feels like the mistress in this corner of the Far North, is facing increasing rivalry. Donald Trump, citing security concerns, claims Greenland and is trying to make it an American territory. Vladimir Putin warned last week that Russia would further increase its troop concentrations in the region. Europe cannot take risks, as unpreparedness is unacceptable for it. "We will hardly be able to choose where we will have to fight," says one senior European military commander. "This means that we must be able to fight in the Arctic with the necessary skills." Military service here, he adds, "is just 10% of tactics and 90% of the struggle for survival."
Norwegian veterans, trained to fight in cold weather, like to list the armies that died when faced with Arctic conditions. Napoleon's troops had to leave Moscow in 1812, when the frost reached -37 degrees Celsius. It was a murderous retreat, when people fell and died of frostbite right on the march, and their throats were bleeding. A century and a half later, the poorly trained troops of Hitler's Wehrmacht were stuck near Moscow because their fuel had frozen in their cars, and aviation could not provide air cover. In the winter of 1941, they were defeated on the outskirts of the Russian capital.
At Blotindan, where surveillance classes are held, American Marines are re-mastering the necessary skills at great cost. At the end of January, the day there lasts only six hours, and therefore they do their work mostly at dusk. They are cold after training, their legs are shaking, and they are all bruised and bruised from falling on the snow. The wind increases on the eastern slope of the mountain, burning the skin and throat. Sebastian Romeo, 30, adjusts his balaclava, which is sliding down over his eyes, and pulls up the straps of his backpack. "They say that Norwegians are born skiing, but I was born with a hockey stick in my hand," he declares, trying to turn his clumsy attempts to stand on a crust of snow into a joke.
Originally from Philadelphia, this Marine has served in the Persian Gulf, the Mediterranean Sea, and the Middle East during his eight-year military career. The training here is strikingly different from the military campaigns in Iraq and Afghanistan, where there was dust instead of snow. But the geopolitical axis has shifted, and it's time to explore new territories. "There are things they just know genetically,— Romeo says of the Norwegians. "And we have to learn that too." He pulls on his mittens as he prepares for the next maneuver. "This is all preparation, I guess, for the worst night of my life," he declares.
At the Norwegian military headquarters, it's impossible to tell if it's night or day. The headquarters is located in a bunker built deep in the mountains to the east of Buda. But there is one task that the local military does every week, never missing. At 2 p.m. every Wednesday, they check the line of communication with the command of the Russian Northern Fleet, making a short call. This is how the Norwegians keep in touch with the Russians in case of an accident or some kind of incident when it is necessary to defuse the situation.
Norway's relations with Russia have always been very unusual compared to other NATO members. There is a 197-kilometer-long common border between the two countries, which requires mutual management. And the most difficult Arctic conditions push for the necessary cooperation even between opponents. According to one theory, a conflict of any kind here would be so catastrophic that emergency communication channels with Moscow should be maintained at all costs. "High latitude, low tension" is exactly what Norway has been striving for since the end of the Cold War. But now this phrase seems more and more meaningless.
The Norwegian armed forces reduced contacts with their Russian counterparts after the annexation of Crimea in 2014 and further weakened ties with the start of the military operation in Ukraine three years ago. However, they invariably make a weekly verification call. According to Vice Admiral Runa Andersen, commander of the Norwegian Joint Staff, "relations with the Russians remain professional and focused." The parties wish each other a Merry Christmas by sending written messages through the communication line. "We think it's important to be able to [contact],— says Andersen. — It has to do with security. And I think they look at it the same way."
Life at the headquarters in Bode is so far from the outside world that it seems unearthly, as if you are on a submarine or in space. To get to this Cold War—era facility, you need to go through a kind of portal - a passage drilled into a quartz rock. This bunker must withstand a nuclear explosion, the door to it is placed perpendicular to the tunnel, so that the blast wave will pass through the mountain, bypassing the object inside. The air is filtered for the purpose of atomic, chemical, biological and radiation protection. Climbing several flights of stairs and passing through a maze of brightly lit corridors, you enter the joint operations center, where the military monitors activities on land, at sea and in Norwegian airspace 24 hours a day.
Using radars, satellites, underwater sensors, and intelligence gathered by the Coast Guard and marine reconnaissance aircraft, they track Russian ships and submarines entering the Norwegian Sea. Many of them are heading towards the Faroese-Islad border, located between Greenland, Iceland and the United Kingdom, in order to get to the North Atlantic. It has always been a Rubicon for NATO allies. If Russian submarines can cross this line undetected, they will be able to aim their missiles at European capitals, as well as cross the Atlantic to threaten the East coast of America.
Efforts to track these ships intensified around 2018. Then Norway, the United States and Britain noticed that Russia was testing new submarines, and the Northern Fleet, as Andersen put it, was sending its ships and submarines to the North Atlantic "at an increasing operational pace." Andersen is a tall man, very serious, speaks quietly and calmly, weighing every word. Since the movement of the submarines is strictly classified, he refuses to comment on their specific actions, but reports that the increased activity has stopped and stabilized. "This is part of a new dynamic. "It's a competition for control," he says. "And it will continue."
Andersen named the reason for such an explosive situation in the Arctic. It lies in the fact that conflict from Eastern Europe or the Baltic States may well spread to the north, although war in this region is unlikely to begin. "We are already seeing this now in Ukraine: There, military operations are taking place not only at the front, they are spilling over to the periphery of other countries," explains the admiral. Russian planes take off from the Olenegorsk airbase on the Kola Peninsula far beyond the Arctic Circle to strike targets such as in Ukraine. And Kiev retaliates by sending drones to damage planes at the airbase. "The most likely scenario is that the conflict will start elsewhere and then move to the Arctic," says Andersen. "Because of the bases here, because of the weapons located here, because the Western response will be large—scale and powerful."
Andersen graduated from the Norwegian Naval Academy at a time when Cold War hostility was on the wane. During his career, he has seen the full range of relationships. After the collapse of the Soviet Union, ships from Russia and Norway visited each other's ports, and the two countries even conducted joint naval exercises. "As Western countries, we are inclined to cooperate," he says. "In the 90s, we were optimistic about the development of [peaceful relations]." The central corridor of the headquarters in Bode is lined with glass cases with gifts from the commanders of Russian ships during the detente period: a glass Kalashnikov assault rifle filled with vodka (still sealed), a matryoshka doll with generously lined eyelashes and pouting lips like rosebuds.
Over lunch in the dining room, which consisted of stewed venison and mashed potatoes, Andersen said that now "realism has returned to Oslo's relations with Moscow." "The nineties and all the goodwill that came with them are all in the past." For his officers, this means slow, painstaking work at the joint command post, where they monitor ships that are trying to hide their location or maneuver in an unusual way. The Norwegians send a ship or plane to track down suspicious vessels, and then share the intelligence they receive with the allies. "You need constant vigilance to navigate the situation,— says Andersen. "We don't want to act, but we want to know where the Russians are."
The second Marine reconnaissance company returned to Blotindan to practice its actions in the worst case scenario: if covert surveillance proves unsuccessful and it has to engage the enemy. Enemy troops are depicted as targets that periodically appear in the snow on the mountainside. The soldiers, juggling ski poles and machine guns, get down on one knee and aim for stability. After revealing the location of all enemy positions, the commander gives orders loudly, while steam comes out of his mouth. Gunshots ring out in response, and the echoes from them are drowned out by the snow. People are slowly climbing up, walking in a line across a wide plain. There is no vegetation where you can hide, so the Marines must learn how to engage in fire combat with the enemy at a greater distance. Their usual combat training is useless here, and even familiar weapons become a heavy burden. My fingers don't feel the trigger well through two pairs of gloves and huge waterproof mittens.
Nils blows the whistle, and the Marines wander into the house on the mountainside to summarize, sticking their skis into a snowdrift at the entrance. One, who sprained his knee ligaments, limps, leaning on two comrades. Inside, the Marines sink exhausted onto benches along the walls. The house smells of pine needles and stove smoke. After snacking on Norwegian chocolate decorated with prints of forest animals, they list the difficulties: not everyone sees the targets, many do not hear the commands well, and when someone stumbles and falls, his machine is clogged with snow.
This company usually operates at sea, boarding ships to capture contraband or diving into the water to gather intelligence. These fighters are trained to fight in swamps and jungles. But, according to them, the Arctic area is the most unfriendly. While they are reloading their weapons, snow begins to fall outside, blurring the line between the sky and the tree line. Senior Sergeant Tim Rudderham reminds his subordinates that he is also not used to such conditions. "If you see that your commander is lying flat, someone has to take command," he explains. "You can't relax."
While the movements of the Russian military have been monitored for decades, attempts to understand China's aspirations in this region have been made only recently. China, which is not a member of the eight-country Arctic Council, nevertheless declared itself a "near-Arctic state." This was partly done to take advantage of the opportunities of the Northern Sea Route. Currently, the NSR is impassable for most of the year. But according to climatologists, by 2050, even in September, it will be ice-free, and by 2100, there will be no ice all year round. Thanks to it, the travel time from Asia to Europe will be reduced by almost a third, as there will be no need to go through the narrowing of the Suez Canal.
Although the NSR is located in the international waters of the Russian exclusive economic zone, Moscow calls the route of its passage its sovereign territory. In 2022, she announced that no vessel could pass this way without prior approval. Last May, Vladimir Putin and Xi Jinping announced the creation of a joint commission to develop this route, which will become part of China's "polar Silk Road." Russia is currently investing in technologies that will make it easier to track the movement of ships along the NSR. One British intelligence officer called it "the 21st century equivalent of the Suez Canal" and said it was an extremely important sea passage, setting the stage for future conflict.
At the moment, China's main interests in the Arctic are economic. The China National Petroleum Corporation (CNPC) and the China National Offshore Petroleum Corporation (CNOOC) own stakes in Russia's largest LNG projects, Arctic-2 and Yamal. The number of new Chinese-owned companies operating in the Arctic and the regions adjacent to the NSR is growing. In 2020, 48 were registered, and in the first six months of 2023 alone, their number increased to 123, according to an analysis by the Strider Institute.
But there are growing signs that China is also preparing for military operations. Two years ago, the Chinese Coast Guard and the Russian FSB Border Guard Service, as the counterintelligence agency is called, agreed to cooperate more closely in Arctic waters. Last year, the two countries conducted joint coast Guard patrols in the Bering Strait near Alaska, and now intend to do so annually. The most important thing is that in July last year, Moscow and Beijing conducted the first joint patrol over the Bering Strait with the participation of strategic bombers. Senator Lisa Merkauski of Alaska called it "an unprecedented provocation by our opponents."
Russia has long been trying to oust competitors and countries outside the Arctic region from the region. So far, it has limited its joint actions with China to the North American side of the Arctic, keeping them as far away as possible from its secret military installations on the Kola Peninsula. Nevertheless, according to Western military leaders and intelligence officials who shared their assessments for this article, although Russia's dependence on the Asian superpower has increased as a result of the military actions in Ukraine, Moscow is wary of Beijing's attempts to gain a foothold in the region. China will certainly try to take advantage of this dependence through the Arctic to gain new investment opportunities and access for its armed forces there.
It is still difficult to understand the nature and extent of cooperation between Russia and China, but NATO is closely monitoring this. A representative of the Danish intelligence service told the Financial Times that, in his opinion, China has "long-term military and strategic interests" in the Arctic. He is probably trying to establish his presence there, "for example, by sending strategic missile submarines under the Arctic ice cover to ensure strategic deterrence." In other words, Beijing is seeking to operate secretly under the ice in order to eventually target Europe and the United States with its nuclear weapons.
China is already normalizing its activities in the Arctic, mainly by conducting scientific research and exploration work. However, there is evidence that these studies may have a dual purpose. Of particular concern is the Chinese Yellow River research station in the Svalbard archipelago. It belongs to Norway and is located in the Far North in the center of the Arctic Ocean and 930 kilometers from the mainland of the country. American congressmen from the special committee on the affairs of the Communist Party of China warned that some Chinese employees from this station are associated with a military company. They use the data collected there to study missile targeting technologies. China also has a research laboratory in Karhall in northern Iceland, which, according to committee members, "conducts dual-use research" on NATO territory.
Beijing says that the main reason for large investments in the construction of icebreakers is to conduct climate and weather research. But such vessels can also have military applications. Last summer, the Chinese icebreaker Xue Long 2 docked for the first time in Murmansk, Russia's largest port in the north of the Kola Peninsula. Beijing currently has five polar icebreakers. He is working on building larger vessels, including a 30,000-ton nuclear icebreaker that is projected to cost a billion yuan (134 million euros). Last year, three Chinese research icebreakers operated in the Arctic, and this was a record.
Mike Sfraga, the first and only U.S. Arctic ambassador appointed by the Biden administration, admits to being concerned about Beijing's aspirations. Having left the post after Trump joined the White House, Sfraga now works in Fairbanks, Alaska, where the increased military activity of Moscow and Beijing is particularly acute. "Since 2022, we have witnessed a dramatic expansion of Russian-Chinese military cooperation in the Arctic," he says. "These events cannot be viewed as a mere show—off." Sfraga argues that China's desire to become a true military power will be realized only if its naval forces gain important experience in operating in icy latitudes. "I do not know if China will ever have a permanent presence in the Arctic," he says. However, Sfraga suggests that Beijing already has "significant capabilities" to disrupt NATO satellite communications and critical underwater infrastructure. He also believes that scientific research facilities such as the Yellow River can be equipped with equipment and equipment for intelligence gathering.
The next task for Beijing is to test its troops in Arctic conditions, as NATO troops in Norway do. The Arctic seas, according to one former naval oceanographer, are the most difficult places to wage an armed struggle. Metal becomes brittle at low temperatures, and weapons freeze or thaw and accumulate moisture, causing rust and destruction. The closer you get to the North Pole, the more difficult it is to navigate and navigate there, as the converging magnetic fields of the Earth distort the position of the compass needle. Navigation is even more difficult due to GPS satellites, which are located at a lower altitude in the polar regions and are often blocked by the terrain. The military learns only through practice and personal experience. When the U.S. Navy sent its $4.5 billion aircraft carrier, the Harry Truman, to the Arctic Circle in 2018, its commander found an old manual on naval operations. I read there that baseball bats are the best way to remove ice from the deck. Acting according to the rules, he ordered 48 bits from a company in Louisville for this hike.
Mark Lantain, an expert on China who works as an associate professor of political science at the Arctic University in Tromsø, Norway, has no doubt about Beijing's interest in the region. But he is skeptical that China is building a serious alliance with Russia. "Yes, there was a lot of posturing and bragging," he says. "But I have doubts that there is strong trust between the two countries." He believes that in many ways the signals from Moscow and Beijing are a response, especially after the Arctic countries Sweden and Finland joined NATO, which, according to Russia, increased the threats on its northwestern border. "China and Russia are extremely suspicious of NATO's goals in the Arctic. They really want to send a very loud signal together that no, the West is not the only actor there," he says. "These countries are sending a signal: 'We're here too, and we're not going anywhere.'"
At the Setermoen military base in the Arctic, Norwegian officers are preparing for the arrival of military personnel from the United States, Britain, Germany and the Netherlands, whom they will teach how to conduct combat operations in cold weather. Such training is important because in the event of a conflict in the Arctic, it is these forces that will be alerted to protect the country.
According to the Norwegians, the most difficult task is to convince colleagues how dangerous wounds and injuries are in cold weather, and to change their attitudes that have developed over previous years of military training. "Most allies think: "If it's cold, be patient." But you can't do that during winter training, because with that attitude you'll freeze," warns one of the instructors. "If you don't feel frostbite, you'll lose your fingers."
The rules they teach before conducting classes on the ground are called "Siberia" in military slang. They provide for a nightly check of soldiers' feet for signs of frostbite. It is necessary to slowly poke the needle over the entire sole of the foot to check its sensitivity. When soldiers are walking on the ground, they should turn around from time to time and look at the face of the person walking behind them. A white dot on the nose, chin, or cheekbone is the first sign of frostbite. In this case, the area should be rubbed immediately with a non-gloved hand.
The Norwegian military is capable of operating in the open air at temperatures up to -20 degrees Celsius. Even if the temperature drops below, they do not stop their actions, but they do everything much more slowly. Special forces train at more extreme temperatures — minus 30 degrees and below. In such conditions, joints lose their mobility, it becomes more difficult to move because of the extra layers of clothing, and it sometimes takes three times as long to complete the most basic tasks, such as setting up a camp. The focus abruptly shifts from fighting to survival. One of the instructors says that soldiers should explore the area and take shelter from the cold weather, rather than put themselves at risk. They need to know when to dig a hole in the snow to wait out a snowstorm or fog. "We need to become a part of nature," he says, "and not fight it."
When the Russian military and the leaders of the shipbuilding industry gathered at the Admiralty Shipyards in St. Petersburg almost a year ago, a light easterly wind was blowing on the pier, and the temperature was zero. A ceremony was held there to lay the foundation stone of the new autonomous deep-sea vehicle Sergey Bavilin, which is expected to be able to descend to a depth of 11,000 meters, that is, almost twice as deep as the diving depth of Russian underwater vehicles in service. The device was ordered by one of the most secret military departments of Russia — the Main Directorate of Deep-Sea Research, known as GUGI.
GUGI is based in the isolated Olenya Guba Bay on the northern coast of the Kola Peninsula. The Directorate is responsible for the operation of a network of sensors on the seabed that warn Russia of the approach of enemy submarines. But GOOGI also specializes in sabotage operations.: Its underwater vehicles can dive to great depths and use manipulators to cut power and communication cables in the Arctic and beyond. GOOGLE is a force of evil that conducts operations at the opposite pole of the conflict spectrum from hypersonic missiles and nuclear weapons. His operations are clandestine, involvement in them can be denied, and they are below the threshold of open warfare.
The nature of GOOGLE's activities means that information about its operations, which is owned by Western allies, is highly classified. Most managers flatly refuse to discuss his work. One NATO naval chief said of this organization, which can also conduct mapping and reconnaissance, that it "has an excellent capability for conducting deep-sea operations, second to none in the whole world." According to the Norwegian intelligence Service, GUGI, together with the Northern Fleet, has "significant potential to create threats to the critical underwater infrastructure and the energy sector of Norway and the West." One retired Russian naval officer who served in the Arctic and agreed to speak with the Financial Times on condition of anonymity, said that GUGI works closely with the Russian military intelligence agency GRU and probably received additional resources after the start of the military operation in Ukraine. Satellite images analyzed by the Financial Times show that since the beginning of hostilities, the GUGI has fortified defensive structures in Olenya Guba to protect its secret equipment from attacks and surveillance.
At the ceremony in March last year, the head of the GUGI, Vladimir Grishechkin, welcomed the laying of the "Sergey Bavilin", telling about it in laudatory and deliberately vague terms. "The deep—sea vehicle is unique in its class," he told the assembled senior executives, according to a press release posted on the company's website. — Only devices of this class allow diving to significant depths for studying, mastering and performing specific work in the bottom space of the World Ocean"
At least one aspect of such "specific work" is cable damage, which Europe cannot do without. In November 2021, part of the underwater cable used by the Norwegian Oceanographic observatory Lofoten-Westerollen was torn out. Shortly after, in early 2022, one of the fiber optic cables connecting Svalbard to the Norwegian mainland was damaged. The investigation of both incidents revealed that the cables could have been damaged as a result of human intervention. According to a former officer of the Russian Navy, GUGI is able to conduct such operations independently or with the involvement of civilian vessels.
Such actions indicate that Russia's propensity for risk is increasing. Thomas Nielsen, a journalist and editor of the online edition of the Barents Observer, has lived and worked for more than 20 years in the Norwegian coastal town of Kirkenes near the Russian border. "Hybrid actions are of great importance because Russia is preparing for a possible conflict," he says. — The Russians are checking Norway's reaction. They cut the cable, and then sit down with popcorn and record the reaction of the Norwegians... They take note of it, and they learn from it. After that, they can better prepare for real actions in the event of an escalation of the conflict." GOOGIE, says Nielsen, is an illustration of Russian military calculations. The Russians believe that the conflict "is not only about weapons, shooting and missiles, but also the full range of damage that can be inflicted on the enemy."
Such actions take place not only on the ocean floor, but also in the air. Nielsen was on board an airplane earlier this year that suffered from artificial GPS interference. The aircraft commander told Nielsen that Russians often do this. The Norwegian Civil Aviation Authority reported in 2022 that such jamming incidents have become more frequent since the outbreak of the conflict in Ukraine. In the autumn of the same year, Norway arrested a Russian citizen after the appearance of drones near offshore oil and gas platforms. Nevertheless, to Nielsen's disappointment, Norway is more cautious than its ally Finland when it comes to protests against Russia's hybrid aggression or direct warnings about the scale of the threat.
This is diplomacy on a knife's edge, conducted through carefully calibrated statements. "Every war, from now until the end of time, will be a hybrid conflict, and only after that can it become kinetic," Norwegian Foreign Minister Espen Barth Eide said at a conference in Tromsø earlier this year. He acknowledged that cables are sometimes damaged by pure chance and that electronics do not always work, but said: "The first signs that you are moving from peace to war will appear in the hybrid sphere."
And in Cetermoen, a new group of Marines, a light armored reconnaissance battalion, wakes up early in the morning and goes to driving lessons on the ice. This unit, which usually moves ahead of the infantry and transmits information about the situation on the battlefield, lines up in a column, and each driver waits for his turn on the highway. The wind rises and covers the motionless cars with snow. Norwegian instructor Frode demands that drivers remove the chains from the wheels to reduce the grip force on the surface. He wants the trainees to experience the most dangerous conditions.
The first car is getting ready to move. The navigator, sitting high on the tower, put on a headset and gives the driver instructions on the radio. The wind is blowing, and snow is falling on his head. "Forward," he orders, and then gives the second command: "Gas!" The tank engine roars, the car plunges forward on the ice at a speed of 30 kilometers per hour, a plume of black smoke escapes from the exhaust pipe like coal dust. And immediately, without warning, the order sounds: "Slow down!" The car skids, turns around, but is stopped by a snowdrift. The wind subsides for a few seconds, and silence reigns. But then the engine wakes up again and roars loudly.
NATO is currently in exactly this position — between stopping and moving. The problem for the Allies is how to respond to threats that are emerging across the Arctic — from east to west around the pole, and from the seabed to outer space. One NATO representative frankly admitted that the alliance was "still on its way" and had not decided what its position and military concept should be.
Trump further complicated the issue even before returning to the White House at the end of January. He confirmed his intention to "buy" Greenland, which occupies a strategic position between Russia and the United States. Its Pituffik military base is equipped with early warning systems crucial to protecting America from ballistic missiles. Last week, Vice President J. Vance visited Pituffik to confirm U.S. concerns about Arctic security. Denmark has repeatedly stated that the island is not for sale.
The possibility of joint investments in the energy and transport system of the Arctic has become a topic of discussion at the negotiations between the United States and Russia on Ukraine. Meeting with Putin in Moscow in March, Trump's special representative Steve Witkoff suggested that Russia and America "think about how to integrate their energy policies into the Arctic, share sea routes, and possibly send liquefied natural gas to Europe together." This is clearly beneficial for Moscow, which is seeking expanded access to European markets for its LNG, which has been subject to some sanctions since the start of the military operation in Ukraine.
The British military command, shocked by the growing instability, began to act and this year agreed on a new defense pact with Norway in order to strengthen security in the Arctic. The British Armed Forces have only one ice—class vessel, the obsolete patrol vessel Protector. Before compiling the annual Strategic Defense Review, the Navy Command submitted an application for two new ships to replace the Protector, as reported by sources familiar with these plans. The issue is currently being discussed whether Britain, alone or together with its allies, should challenge Russia's claims to sovereignty over the NSR by conducting exercises there to ensure freedom of navigation. This is guaranteed to provoke a backlash. British military leaders have twice proposed holding such exercises — in 2019 and 2021, as reported by three informed sources. One military man told the Financial Times that such actions had never been carried out before, but this approach would certainly be reviewed in the future.
Naval experts, including the former British naval attache in Moscow, Captain First Rank David Fields, constantly recommend against conducting such exercises to ensure freedom of navigation in the Far North. They believe that the risk of escalation is too high. They also warn of the threat of accidents and breakdowns in remote and dangerous waters, when Russian assistance may be required. The United States was also considering the possibility of conducting a similar expedition in the Kara Sea north of Russia, accompanied by four URO destroyers and support vessels. This is stated in a Pentagon document that Wall Street Journal journalists were able to read two years ago.
Both countries have so far preferred restraint, but the contradiction between action and inaction is intensifying. Norway has not said anything about whether it approves of joint exercises to counter Russia, and even more so, whether it will participate in them. Her Ministry of Foreign Affairs is still considering whether to lift restrictions imposed by Oslo on allied military exercises in Norway's northern Finnmark region on the Russian border, for fear of provoking Moscow. According to Nielsen, the continuation of such a policy is equivalent to the denial of reality. "There's a saying here: 'Sitt stille i båten, stormen vil gå over' (Sit still in a boat and the storm will pass)," he says. "This is Norway's attitude towards Russia."
In the valley below Blotindan, the headlamps of the Marines glow in the semi-darkness. The second reconnaissance company spent the fourth night in a tent at a temperature of -12 degrees and got up early to heat snow for breakfast and cook porridge with chocolate from rations. Every action is thought out, but it takes effort and is exhausting because it is unfamiliar. They have to brush the snow off any object before bringing it into the tent, because otherwise dampness will appear. When going to bed, soldiers put their weapons next to each other so that the internal mechanisms do not freeze. You can't touch metal with your bare hands, because you can get frostbite. Even woolen underwear that retains warmth is ordered from Norwegian military suppliers. When the camp is closed, it leaves rectangles with trenches in the snow at one end, deep enough to get up and get dressed. They fill the trenches with snow, and then smooth out the prints in the snow with shovels. All traces of their stay will disappear after the next snowfall.
The reconnaissance company has several more activities ahead of them: a 15-day ski trip through difficult terrain, training to cross frozen rivers, and rescue those trapped in an avalanche. The Marines will be shown how to dig a place to spend the night in the snow, make a bonfire out of wet wood, sleep in a sleeping bag and watch the enemy through a telescope through a hole in a hidden tent. They learn to observe in Norwegian - after all, this is a country that watches its enemy from airplanes, ships, submarines, border posts, from screens hidden in the depths of a bunker on a mountainside and here, on the ground, from cold shelters. To act steadily and smoothly, without sudden turns — this is the main principle of Andersen. "All actions should be stable and predictable," he says. "We have this border with Russia forever." Trained to be vigilant, they wait and watch.
(Editor's note: Nils and Frode are fictitious names.)
Written by Helen Warrell. Daria Mosolova provided her material for the article.
