The Spy Who - ENCORE - The Spy Who (UK) | The Spy Who Gave London its Christmas Tree | 1

Episode Date: December 23, 2025

This Christmas, we're revisiting one of our favorite spy stories. Each December, a giant tree lights up London’s Trafalgar Square. Behind the custom: 007 author Ian Fleming and a secret mission to Norway. This is the story of how wartime espionage gave Britain its most spectacular festive tradition.The Spy Who will take a short break, and will be back with a brand new season on the 6th of January 2026. See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

Wondery Plus subscribers can binge full seasons of the Spy Who early and add free on Apple Podcasts or the Wondry app. June 1940, the far north of Norway. In a remote wood cabin deep within a dense conifer forest, King Hawken the 7th listens as one of his ministers urges him to flee. Your Majesty, Hitler wants you captured dead or alive. You cannot remain in Norway. There's no hope of repelling the German invasion.

Please, leave with the British. The 67-year-old king's handlebar mustache twitches slightly. He's been on the run from the Nazis for almost two months, but the thought of leaving Norway horrifies him. You ask me to abandon our nation? The liberty and independence of the Norwegian people are my duty. To leave is to fail in that duty. No, your majesty. I beg you to leave so you can continue to fight. How? How can I continue to fight if I abandon the country in its hour of need?

Sir, from the safety of Britain, the people can still take comfort and strength from your radio broadcasts. Your words can keep hope alive. The king nods in understanding. He rises from his seat. Very well. May God bless Norway. A few hours later, the king stands on the deck of a British Royal Navy cruiser bound for Scotland. As the Norwegian mountains disappear over the horizon, he dabbs the tears from his eyes. Two and a half years later, November 1942. The North Sea, just east of the Shetland Islands. Torpedo operator Monsklobun smiles as ocean spray and cold wind blasts his face.

He's 23, fair-haired and about to go behind enemy lines. Before the war, he was a fisherman. Now he's in the Norwegian Navy and one of 22 sailors, commandos and spies, heading to Nazi-occupied Norway for a secret reconnaissance mission. To get there, they're using a new kind of British Royal Navy Motor torpedo boat. The British call them the spitfires of the sea.

They're fast, narrow, and armed to the teeth of the gun turret and torpedo launchers on each side. And they're designed for covert operations and hidden-run attacks. The cruise missionists have slipped through the maze of islands and inlets of southwest Norway undetected.

Then, they must gather intelligence on how to sabotage a mine that's producing pyrite for making ammunition. Globun leans out into the wind and cries out with glee. Norway! Here we come! But then, he spots the Scottish commandos further up the deck. They report to a man called Ian Fleming in British naval intelligence, and their stony faces remind him this secret. mission isn't a game. The war's not going well for the Allies.

Most of Europe is in the grip of fascists. The Soviet Union's battling for its survival. Japan is rampaging across East Asia. Glouben fears this year will deliver another bleak Christmas, but he's determined to return from his mission to Norway with something to cheer his exiled king. Mom and Dad, Mom and Mom, Dad and Dad, whatever, parents. Are you about to spend five hours in the car with your beloved kids this holiday season?

Driving old Granny's house? I'm setting the scene, I'm picturing, screaming, fighting, back-to-back hours of the K-pop Demon Hunter's soundtrack on repeat. Well, when your ears start to bleed, I have the perfect thing to keep you from rolling out of that moving vehicle. Something for the whole family! He's filled with laughs. He's filled with rage. The OG Green Grump, give it up for. For me, James Austin Johnson, as The Grinch. And like any insufferable influencer these days,

I'm bringing my crew of lesser talented friends along for the ride with A-list guests like Gronk, Mark Hamill, and the Jonas Brothers, whoever they are. There's a little bit of something for everyone. Listen to Tis the Grinch holiday podcast wherever you get your podcasts. From Wondery, I'm Rosa Jeffrey. And this is the spy who. Every year, Norway gives the British people a Christmas tree

to display in London's Trafalgar Square. And in this special, festive episode, we reveal how a covert mission to Norway, a homesick king, and 007 creator Ian Fleming, conspired to instigate this long-standing tradition. What you're about to hear are dramatized reconstructions of events, based on the information that's been made public. But remember, in the shadowy realm of the spy,

the full story is rarely clear. This is the spy who gave London its Christmas tree. November 27th, 1942, Southwest Norway. Under the cover of darkness, the motor torpedo boat moves quietly towards a remote cove on the island of Bormlo. On the deck, torpedo men Monskloobin checks the surrounding hilltop to make sure no one's watching. But the falling snow makes it hard to be sure. It's 15 hours since they left Shetland.

Now, after navigating the Norwegian coast's labyrinth of inlets and rocky islands, they've found. a suitable hiding place. At the helm, the cruise commander, Lieutenant Knut Bergerbach, signals for the engines to be cut. A few seconds later, the boat gently nudges against the white-gray rock of the shore. Klubin and the other crew members move swiftly. They lash ropes, tie knots, and lower. the anchor to moor the boat.

Next, they carry provisions and equipment ashore. Two of the Scottish commandos on the boat grab flashlights and head inland. Their priority is to establish a lookout post on high ground from where they can watch for German patrols. As the commandos disappear into the murk of the night-time snowstorm, Klubin helps pull a large sheet of tarpaulin over the boat. over the boat to camouflage it from passing planes and boats.

Tarpolin in place, Klubin takes a moment to savour his return to home soil. He looks down the inlet and towards the nearby island of Hysoya. Unlike the other islands here, His Sawyer's covered with a forest of noble fir-trees, and with its fresh dusting of snow, it looks magical in the moonlight. But Klubin's thoughts are interrupted by Lieutenant Bergerbach calling his name. Clubin, come here. Lubin hurries to where the lieutenant is hunched over a map with a man he knows only as Harry. No one's quite sure what his role in this mission is.

Some of the sailors think he's a British spy. Harry falls silent as soon as Klubin approaches and leaves the lieutenant to do the talking. Lubin, you know this area well, yes. Yes, Lieutenant. I'm from Uragsvok, a few miles south of here, and I fished these waters before the war. Perfect. We need to reach this mine near Saugwok. This channel is the only route there, but given what you've seen of the German patrols, how likely do you think it is that we can reach its unseen? The channel's wide enough to be able to give other vessels a wide berth.

There's also plenty of small islands and inlet. we can use for cover, but this place is a problem. Glouben points to a small coastal village on the map. The village is called Robesparneser, and it sits roughly halfway between their position and the mine. There's an engine factory there, so lots of boats go there, an engine factory. I imagine the Germans will be making use of that.

Maybe we should attack it on the way back. The following morning, two hours before dawn. In the torpedo boat, Lieutenant Bergerbach answers the buzzing phone. It's connected by a cable to the hilltop lookout post. Yes, there's a mailboat heading your way. The lieutenant hangs up. There's no reason for a mailboat to come here. There are no settlements or houses near.

this inlet. Men, incoming boat, be prepared. As the crew prepared to defend their position, the lieutenant hurries to the bow. Soon after, the mailboat comes into view. It's a small fishing boat with a cabin on the deck. On seeing the crew with their guns at the ready, the mailboat skipper emerges from behind his steering wheel and puts his hands up. Don't shoot! Don't shoot! Don't You're Norwegian Navy, yes? I can tell from your uniforms, I am Norwegian, too. What do you want? Nothing. I'm just a mailman.

I saw your boat and thought you might be stuck or in need of help. The lieutenant signals for his men to lower their guns. I see. Sorry for the unfriendly welcome. We have to be careful. Please, come aboard. The mailboat skipper spends the next 20 minutes sharing everything he knows about German patrols and defences in the area. The lieutenant explains that they need to reach Saghvug, undetected.

That will be hard, especially if you want a close look. Your boat will stand out. Not many fishing boats have torpedo chiefs. The lieutenant paces the deck, absorbing the bad. news. Then he glances at the mailboat and notices it has a large icebox and it's big enough to fit a couple of men inside. Are you carrying any fish in your icebox? Well no, it's empty. Why? Would you be willing to transport two of my men to Sagu? They could dress as civilians and hide inside the ice box so as not to attract attention? The mailboat skipper.

nods. Yes. I will do that. I'd also like them to take a look at the engine workshop on Hulbastardnessa. Would that be possible as well? It's on my route, so...

Yes. Thank you. But I must warn you that if the Germans catch you with my men, they might kill you. The elbowed skipper looks unmoved. I know this.

I am the one still. living here. I'm not afraid. A few minutes later, the mail boat heads out of the inlet with two commandos stowed in its icebox. It's a few hours later, and on board the motor torpedo boat, Klurban and some of the other Norwegian crew members are shielding from the snowstorm outside. And their return to their homeland has made them all lost. made them all nostalgic for Christmases of old. The crew's cook leans back in his chair.

All I want for Christmas is to eat some lutevisk. It's not Christmas without lutevisk. Klubin nods along. He too misses traditional Norwegian Christmas dinners, with their lye-cured, dried whitefish and potatoes, washed down with aquavit. I miss having a tree. Christmas is so sad without a proper tree like those on His Sawyer.

One of the sailors sits up. We should get one. What do you mean? We're not doing anything here, are we? Let's ask for permission to go to the island to get a tree and bring it back. It could go in the mess hall. It'd cheer everyone up. But we can't use an axe to chop it down.

It'd be too noisy. If there are Germans there, they'd hear us using it. The cook. stands up. I have a meat store. We could use that. But we have to get two trees. Two trees?

Why? One for the mess hall. Another for the king. The king keeps all of our spirits up. But who is keeping up his spirits? Wouldn't a Christmas tree from Norwegian soil be the perfect way to thank him? Just then, Lieutenant Bergerbach

Steps onto the boat. Klubin stands. Lieutenant, we have a request. What is it? We wish to row over to the island of His Sawyer to get two Christmas trees to take back with us, one for the mess hall on Shetland, and another as a gift to His Majesty, King Hawken.

Do we have your permission, sir? That is an excellent idea. You have my permission. Just make it quick and be careful. Keep an eye out for German patrols. Delighted, the crew gather their gear and the cook's meat saw, ready to go get their Christmas trees. Forty-five minutes later, Kluben kneels in the deep snow.

Sweat drips from his brow as he uses the chef's meat saw to cut through the bark and wood of a small fir tree. Nearby, another Norwegian sailor Ready's a cigarette while keeping watch You still need a tree for the king That one's only fit for the mess I've not seen a better one yet Glouben pauses and wipes the sweat from his brow

With the sleeve of his thick wall jumper The two men freeze as they hear a twig crack Somewhere in the forest Clubin and the other sailor exchange glances they're thinking the same thing Germans Klubin's colleague stashes his unlit cigarette behind his ear

and reaches for his pistol The Sarkvork, Norway Sarkvork, Norway Around the same time as the team are cutting down the Christmas tree On a forested and snowy hilltop, the two commandos who went with the mailboat drain their binoculars on the defences at the pyrite mine.

I'm glad to be out of that icebox. You always that windy. Concentrate on the missions. I count 18 guards. Oh, actually, it's 19. And an officer. Still, a surprise attack with enough force should do it, but we'll need to disable those cannons.

quick. The decoy attack further on the coast at Lyovic should draw some of these guards away. That'll make it easier to deal with the cannons. You see anything else? No, I think that's all we need. Let's get back before anyone starts asking why the mailman's running late. The commandos grab their packs and head back down the hill towards the mailboat. They've got the intelligence the crew came for. They just need to check on the engine factory in Ruvestan. and then they'll be returning to base, and all without the Germans, even knowing they were ever there.

Back at Bormlo, torpedo man Monts Kleurbin, marches ashore with a four-foot-tall Christmas tree slung over his shoulder. Behind him, the sailors who went with him to his soya drag their dingy towards cover. As Klubin heads up shore, his commander, Lieutenant Bugaberg, emerges from behind a nearby rock. Ah, Klubin. Any trouble?

No, sir. We thought we heard something in the forest, but it turned out to be nothing. Burgerberg nods. Then peers at the Christmas tree. I hope the other tree is better than this one. We can't present the king with such a sorry specimen. This is the only tree we have, sir. And it was the best we found. Well, it's not good enough. The commandos who went with the mailboat aren't back yet, so there's still time.

Get back in that dinghy and find a tree fit for a king. I'll take this one from here. With that, the lieutenant heaves the tree over his shoulder and marches towards the boat. Clurban sighs and heads over to where the other men are taking the dingy. The lieutenant said our tree isn't good enough. We have to go back and find a better one. One of the sailors smirks.

It sounds like my father every Christmas, always chasing the perfect tree. Kleurben's about to laugh when the sailor holds up a hand. Kleurban and the others fall silent, and they hear it. There's a motorboat approaching. The sailors grab the dinghy and quickly drag it out of sight. A few moments later, they see a German patrol boat buzzed past.

That was too close. Yes, let's hurry. If we're going to get this tree, we need to reach the island before that patrol boat circles back around. Two hours later, Lieutenant Bergerberg raises his binoculars to his eyes and scans the shore of his Sawyer. But there's still no sign of Klubin and the other men. He passes the binoculars to one of the Icebox commandos.

They've just returned from checking out the Pyright mine, and that means they should be heading back to Shetland soon. Still no sign of them. We need to consider the possibility they've been captured. If they have, we can't wait around. We have the intelligence we came for. The mission comes first. I'm not abandoning them.

Not yet, at least. I'm the one who sent them back. We can give them time. The commando hands back the binoculars. Fine. We also need to talk about Rubestanessa. We scouted it out like you asked. Clurban was right.

There is an engine factory there. It's guarded, but vulnerable. We could go in fast, torpedo it, and be gone. But if we're seen coming in, it'd be high risk. Understood. In that case, let's try and take it out. But we abhorred the mission at the first sign of trouble. Much as I'd like to see some action,

getting the intelligence about the mine back to Shetland takes priority. Decision made, the lieutenant raises the binoculars once more. Yet he sees nothing but snow, rocks and fir trees. But then he sees something strange. There's a tree with no snow on it, and it's moving towards the shore. shore. A smile breaks on the lieutenant's face. Clurban and the others have found a tree fit for a king.

It's a few hours later and the motor torpedo boat is on the move. The two small Christmas trees are stowed safely below deck. Now, the crew are speeding towards the village of Rubberstar Nessa to take out its engine factory. As the boat cuts through the water, Kluben's heart races. It's down to him to fire the torpedoes and make sure they hit the factory. But then, the sailor keeping watch, the German patrols, shouts. Enemy sighted! Cut engines! Lieutenant Bergerberg raises his binoculars as the boat's engines stop.

Klubin peers at the murky great horizon. The ongoing snowstorm makes it hard to see, but there's a storm. Speck moving in the distance. Everyone on board looks at the lieutenant, waiting for orders. After a moment, he lowers his binoculars. Restart engines and turn around. The attack is off. We return to Shetland now and at speed. Gunners, keep that patrol boat in your sights.

If they give chase, I want them sunk, fast. Clurban, ready the torpedoes. We may need them if they radio for support. Yes, sir. The engines restart, and the boat begins to turn around. round. Klubin hurries to load the torpedo tubes. As he does, he steals a quick glance toward the German patrol boat. It's changed course too, and it's headed their way. In an office overlooking Trafalgar Square, Admiral Norman Denning leans forward and lets Ian Fleming light his cigarette.

Then he leans back in his chair. Denning is the head of British naval intelligence and Fleming's boss. I have good news, Commander Fleming. Our reconnaissance operation in Norway the other week went almost without a hitch. Fleming, arches an eyebrow. Almost? Apparently they had quite an adventure. They hoped to take out a boat engine fact.

tree before returning, give the jerrys a kick in the balls on the way out, so to speak. Unfortunately, a German patrol boat spotted them, so they had to high-tail it out of the area. Thankfully, our new boats were too good for them, and they were able to make a quick getaway with a little help from the murky weather. Glad to hear it. So they collected the intelligence we needed to sabotage the mine in Saghvok. Yes. Three of the Norwegians involved are on their way to London, as we speak. We can get a full briefing then, but I believe they gathered all the information we need to go ahead with Operation Cartoon. Fleming smiles.

Operation Cartoon is the mission to destroy the mine in Saghvog. The plan is to send a joint British-Norwegian force in the new year. But the news that some of those involved in the mission to Norway are coming to London has also caught his attention. Fleming's work is mainly to direct operations from afar, but he always thrills at the tales of bravery he hears from those he sends into the field. So he's not going to miss hearing the stories from the men who've just carried out an operation behind enemy lines.

You said some of the men are coming here? Yes. They're due to arrive tomorrow. Our agents, of course, plus the boat's second in command, and a torpedo man called Monsz. We should mark their success somehow. Dinner at the Savoy seems appropriate. Yes, good idea, Fleming. A proper slap-up meal for a job well done.

Well, I know the matri d. I'm sure I could get him to fix us something special. in fact i have two brace of pheasants from hunting over the weekend i'm sure the savoy might make something special with them wonderful i will of course join you also you need to invite eric welsh to his secret intelligence service he heads up their new norwegian branch he's very keen to learn what he can about the situation there the more the merrier need the reservation to me A couple of hours later, the Savoy Hotel, London. Ian Fleming slips into the kitchen, carrying a gunny sack. Inside, the hotel's chefs are busy getting ready for the dinner service. Fleming sees the matri-D chatting with another hotel employee and makes his way past the chefs towards him.

Excuse me, awfully sorry. The matri-D notices Fleming heading towards him. Ah, Commander Fleming. Pleasure to see you as always, but I'm afraid this area is for staff only. I'm aware. But I need a reservation for tomorrow. Well, you could just book like anyone else. Yes, but I have a special request and a gift.

A gift? Fleming opens his sack to reveal four pheasants. One's yours if you make good use of the others for our party of six. The matriety smiles. War-time rationing means meat is in short supply. In that case, consider your special reservation arranged. Late the following evening, Ian Fleming staggers out of the Savoy, closely followed by Norwegian torpedo men, Monts Kluben.

Admiral Denning, MI6 officer Eric Welsh, and two other Norwegian sailors follow just behind. They've spent the past few hours drinking fine wine and dining on pheasant. now their heads are woozy and their bellies bloated. Fleming saunters up to the army jeep the Norwegians are using with his hands in his trouser pockets. He appears at the two Christmas trees in the back of the vehicle. I thought you said one of the trees was put in the mess hall in Shetland

and the other one is going to the king, but they're both here. Clurban looks offended and points at the smallest of the tree. You think I would cut down a tree as a tree? as sorry as that one. It's more shrub than tree. No, my first tree is in the mess hall. Believe it or not, another Norwegian boat on a completely separate mission, had the exact same idea. And this was their so-called tree. Yeah, not even fit for a mess hall, let alone a king, exactly. We're not sure what to do with it. It seems wrong just to turn it into firewood when it's come all the way from Norway.

Fleming looks at the tree for a moment, and then, down the street, towards Trafalgar Square. I have an idea. A few minutes later, Fleurban and Fleming and the other merry men are in Trafalgar Square. As they watch, Admiral Denning uses some rope to tie the tree to some railings. See? I still know how to tie a bowland. Rope work done The Admiral steps back And the six men stand and stare

At the small Christmas tree M. I-6 officer Eric Welsh sighs Shane we have no fairy lights Clurban nods And then has an idea He rushes over to the Jeep Rummages through a rucksack

And pulls out two flares We don't have fairy lights But we do have flares Hey! The men cheer But then, Clubin pulls something else out of the rucksack, a hip flask. And Aquavit. Oh, perfect.

Oh, yes. Fleming attaches the flares to the railings and lights them. As red and green lights and smoke illuminate the Christmas tree and Trafalgar Square, the men gather in a semicircle. Clubin takes a swig of Aquabit and raises it in a toast. Merry Christmas to all. He passes the flask to Welsh, who takes a heavy swig. One of the other Norwegian sailors looks aghast.

No, no, no, this is Norwegian aquibit, not Swedish, it's for sipping. Fleming takes the flask, sniffs it, and then takes a sip. Not too bad, but Danish aquavit is superior. What? No, you are talking utter nonsense! Fleming. Stop winding up our guests. But it's true.

Danish is definitely superior. Phyllisdine. Personally, I can't taste much difference. Now, Admiral, it is you who is talking nonsense. Not true. Definitely the Swedish. Norwegian aquabit. And as the traditional Christmas argument fills the air,

passes by stop and smile at the Norwegian tree, lit with flares and surrounded by the spies and sailors who've just planted the seeds of a new. New festive tradition. The next day, Berkshire, England. In his temporary residence, King Hawken, the 7th, is at his desk,

working on his Christmas radio address to the people of Norway, when his butler enters the room. Your Majesty, there is a visitor for you, an officer from the Norwegian Navy who has just returned from a mission to Norway. He is waiting in the horse. hallway.

The king stiffly rises from his chair, eager to hear news about home. But on entering the hallway, he's surprised to find not just a smiling sailor, but a beautiful Christmas tree. The sailor bows his head. Your Majesty, this tree is from his Sawyer. We cut it down during our mission there a few days ago as a gift for you. It is a thank you from us. the people of Norway to you for keeping the hope of a free Norway alive. Merry Christmas, Your Majesty. The surprise king stares at the fine fur in front of him.

Fond memories of home and Christmases passed surge forth, ignited by the woody citrus smell of the tree. And as he remembers those happier days, he smiles and tears well in his eyes. Thank you for this most heartwarming and thoughtful gift and thank you and your men for their service and their bravery and a very merry Christmas to you as well. Good you will. In January 1943, the British and Norwegians used the intelligence gathered

during Kluber's mission to successfully sabotage the pyrite mind. near Saugvork, disrupting the Nazi's production of ammunition. In both 1943 and 1944, the Norwegian Navy sailors continued the tradition of returning from motor torpedo boat missions into occupied Norway with a Christmas tree for King Hawken. Norway was finally liberated on May 8, 1945. King Hawken returned home on June 7th that year, after exactly five years in exile. In 1947, Norway began sending the UK a large Christmas tree to place in Trafalgar Square every year, as a thank you to the British people for their support during World War II.

And these days, it's lit with fairy lights instead of flares. The stump of the original Trafalgar Square Christmas tree that Klubin cut the top off has since regrown. It's now known as the Conger Grana, or the Runger Gras. royal fur, and remains on the island of His Sawyer to this day. In the next season of The Spy Who, we revisit the file of Eamon Dean, the spy who betrayed bin Laden, and we hear from the former Al-Qaeda member himself to understand how he went from teen jihadist to British spy. Wonderry plus subscribers can binge full seasons of the Spy Who early

and add free on Apple Podcasts or the Wondery app. Have you got a spy story we'd like us to tell? Email your ideas to the spy who at Wondery.com. From Wondery, this is our Christmas special episode, The Spy Who gave London its Christmas tree. A quick note about our dialogue We can't know everything that was said or done behind closed doors

particularly far back in history but our scenes are written using the best available sources so even if a scene or conversation has been recreated for dramatic effect it's still based on biographical research The Spy Who is hosted by me Raza Jafri

Our show is produced by Vespucci with writing and story editing by Yellow Ant for Wondery For Yellow Ant, this episode was researched by Louise Byrne, with special thanks to Clara Ellifson, Maureen Ergland and Susan Scott. Our managing producer is Jay Priest. For Vespucci, our senior producers are Natalia Rodriguez, Ashley Clivery and Philippa Gearing.

Our sound designer is Ivor Manly. Rachel Byrne is the supervising producer. Music supervisor is Scott Velasquez for Frisson Sink. Executive producers for Vespucci are Johnny Galvin and Daniel Turcan. Executive producer for Yellow Ant is Tristan Donovan. Our producer for Wondery is Theodora Lulidis, and our managing producer is Rachel Sibley. Executive producers for Wondery are Estelle Doyle, Chris Bourne, Morgan Jones and Marshall Louis. Thank you.