Oslo is a city of serene fjords, modernist art, and vibrant café culture. It’s a city that breathes peace. But beneath this tranquil surface, the city’s streets, buildings, and quiet corners hold whispered secrets of a darker, defiant past. For five long years, from 1940 to 1945, Oslo was a city under occupation, its normal heartbeat replaced by the ominous tramp of German boots and the ever-present fear of the Gestapo.
To walk through Oslo with the history of the Resistance in mind is to see two cities superimposed: the bustling modern capital and the silent, watchful city of 1943. This tour isn’t about grand monuments or sweeping battlefields; it’s about the almost imperceptible scars, the places where ordinary Norwegians made extraordinary choices between collaboration, passive resistance, and active, treasonous defiance.
This is a journey into the soul of a city that refused to be broken.
Stop 1: The Beginning of the Nightmare – Akershus Fortress
Our story begins not with resistance, but with invasion. Perched majestically at the head of the Oslofjord, Akershus Fortress is a symbol of Norwegian strength, dating back to the 13th century. But on April 9, 1940, it became the epicenter of a national humiliation.
Stand on the ramparts and look out over the fjord. Imagine the pre-dawn darkness pierced by the ghostly shapes of German warships. The fortress’s own guns fired, but the invasion was too swift, too overwhelming. The Norwegian government and Royal Family were forced to flee, and Akershus was swiftly transformed. The ancient castle became the headquarters of the German Wehrmacht, and its dark, damp casemates were converted into prisons for members of the Norwegian Resistance.
Walk into these cells. Run your hand over the cold, rough-hewn stone. Here, captured resistance fighters, saboteurs, and political dissidents awaited their fate—interrogation, torture, or deportation to concentration camps in Germany. The air in these chambers still feels heavy. Akershus is a stark reminder that the Resistance was born from a moment of profound national shock and military defeat. It sets the stage for everything that follows: a struggle not for immediate victory, but for the preservation of national honor.
Stop 2: The Beating Heart of Defiance – The University of Oslo’s Aula
A short walk from the fortress, we find a different kind of battlefield: the mind. The University of Oslo’s Aula (Great Hall) is famous for Edvard Munch’s magnificent murals, vibrant paintings celebrating the sun and human vitality. But during the occupation, the university itself became a focal point of intellectual and cultural resistance.
The Nazis understood that to control a people, you must first control their culture and their history. They immediately set about Nazifying Norwegian society, imposing their curriculum on schools and demanding loyalty from professors. The response was a resounding, collective “no.”
In November 1943, the Reichskommissar of Norway, Josef Terboven, demanded that all university professors and students sign a loyalty pledge to the new regime. What happened next was one of the most powerful acts of passive resistance in the war. The entire university staff resigned en masse, and students refused to comply. The university was closed.
Stand in the square outside the Aula. This wasn’t a violent protest, but it was a devastating blow to the occupiers’ legitimacy. It was a statement that Norwegian minds would not be conquered. The professors, risking their careers and their freedom, held clandestine lectures in private homes, ensuring that the flame of knowledge and free thought was never extinguished. This was the Resistance of the pen, proving that some weapons are mightier than the sword.
Stop 3: The Lion’s Den – Victoria Terrasse
Now, turn your gaze to a building that, for Norwegians, became the very embodiment of terror: Victoria Terrasse. This elegant, sprawling complex overlooking the city was commandeered by the Gestapo, the Nazi secret police.
Its stately apartments were transformed into interrogation rooms, offices for torturers, and cells. To be summoned to Victoria Terrasse was a sentence in itself. The screams from within were muffled by the thick walls, but the fear it radiated seeped out into the entire city. Norwegians would cross the street to avoid walking past it.
Today, it houses the Ministry of Foreign Affairs—a powerful symbol of Norway’s reclaimed sovereignty. But stand across the street and look up at its windows. Imagine the black cars pulling up at all hours, the grim-faced men in leather coats, the prisoners dragged inside, broken and terrified. The Resistance wasn’t just fought in the forests; it was fought in these rooms, where men and women had to withstand unimaginable pain to protect their comrades. The courage it took to be a member of the Resistance, knowing that this place was a likely destination, is almost beyond comprehension.
Stop 4: The Sound of Defiance – The National Theatre & Studenterlunden Park
From a place of terror, we move to a place of subtle rebellion. The National Theatre and the adjacent Studenterlunden Park were stages for a daily, symbolic struggle.
The Nazis loved pomp and ceremony. They would often march through the city center, their bands playing martial music, attempting to project an image of invincibility and control. The Norwegian response was a masterpiece of psychological resistance.
It became an unwritten rule: when German soldiers marched or their bands played, Norwegians would simply turn their backs. They would stop talking, look away, or simply walk off. The silence that greeted these displays was louder than any jeer. In Studenterlunden Park, Norwegians would deliberately congregate around the statue of playwright Henrik Ibsen, a symbol of Norwegian cultural identity, in a quiet act of defiance.
This “silent front” (den stille front) was crucial. It denied the occupiers the respect they craved and reinforced a powerful sense of national unity among the population. It was a way for every single citizen, from the shopkeeper to the schoolteacher, to be a resister.
Stop 5: The Invisible Front – The Norwegian Resistance Museum at Bygday
To understand the full scope of the Resistance, we must take a short ferry ride to the Bygday peninsula. Here, nestled near the famous Viking Ship Museum, is the Norges Hjemmefrontmuseum (The Norwegian Resistance Museum). This is not a stop on our walking tour, but its soul.
This museum is the essential archive of the struggle. It tells the story not in grand narratives, but in heartbreaking, intimate detail. You will see:
- The crude, hand-cranked printing presses used to produce illegal newspapers like London-Nytt and Bulletinen, which broke the Nazi monopoly on information and kept hope alive.
- The tiny, ingenious radios, hidden in books or false-bottomed drawers, used to receive coded messages from the Norwegian government-in-exile in London.
- The homemade weapons, the forged identity papers, and the simple, deadly tools of sabotage.
- The photographs of young, determined faces—many of whom would not live to see liberation.
The museum masterfully connects the individual stories to the larger network—the “Milorg” military organization, the covert intelligence operations, the “Shetland Bus” boat traffic to Scotland. It shows that the silent, stoic resistance on the streets of Oslo was supported by a highly organized, incredibly brave, and lethally efficient underground army.
Stop 6: The Ultimate Sacrifice – Akershus Pier & Execution Site
Our journey ends where, for so many, it tragically did. Return to Akershus Fortress, but this time, walk down to the pier on its far side. This tranquil spot by the water holds a horrific secret. This was one of the primary execution sites used by the Nazis.
Throughout the occupation, particularly as the war turned against Germany and their paranoia grew, prisoners from the fortress cells were brought here at dawn, blindfolded, and shot. The most infamous of these massacres occurred in the war’s final weeks. In retaliation for a successful sabotage operation, 34 Norwegian patriots and 18 political prisoners from other European countries were executed here between February 2 and May 3, 1945—agonizingly close to liberation.
Stand here in silence. Listen to the lap of the water against the stones. It is a place of profound sorrow and immense courage. These men and women died knowing that their sacrifice was part of something greater than themselves. A simple, stark monument now stands in their memory, a reminder of the terrible price of freedom.
The Legacy in the Pavement: Carrying Their Story Forward
As you walk back into the modern, vibrant life of Oslo—past the cafés filled with people laughing, the trams gliding by, the children playing in the parks—the city will feel different. You will now see the ghostly echoes.
You’ll notice a plaque on a building wall you might have otherwise passed, commemorating a fallen resister. You’ll look at a basement window and wonder if it once hid a secret printing press. You’ll feel the weight of the silence that once greeted tyranny in the very air of the city squares.
The WWII Resistance Tour of Oslo is not a celebration of war. It is a pilgrimage in honor of resilience, of the power of the human spirit in the face of overwhelming darkness. It reminds us that heroism isn’t always loud; sometimes, it’s the quiet turning of a back, the clandestine printing of a leaflet, or the fortitude to face a firing squad for one’s beliefs.