Word came down early this morning an observation plane flew over Reykjavik for more than an hour. At 03:40, a fellow policeman spotted a small fleet of ships off the harbor, but could not tell what nationality they were.

Following the news of the invasion and capitulation of Denmark, as well as the sudden invasion and occupation of Norway by the Germans, we’re naturally a little on edge about a foreign fleet of ships showing up off of our coast. Finar Arnalds, our acting Chief of Police, went out to see for himself. Realizing the ships were British, he contacted the Foreign Ministry to inform them our neutrality was about to be violated and headed out with our party to meet the ships as they docked.

Finar asked to speak with the captain of the first British ship, a destroyer, but was refused.

He then called the Prime Minister, who ordered him not to interfere with the British troops and to try to prevent conflicts between them and Icelanders.

Now they are pulling up to the quays, preparing to unload troops. A small crowd has assembled to see the British land. The British consul, who clearly received notice of the invasion, is waiting with his associates to assist the troops as they arrive. He walks up to Fris, our Commander.

"Would you mind ... getting the crowd to stand back a bit, so that the soldiers can get off the destroyer?" he asks.

"Certainly," comes Fris’ reply.

We’re here to keep the peace.

As the first British troops begin their descent from their ship, the crowd becomes agitated, calling out names and yelling at them to go home.

“Calm those folks down!” Fris orders our small contingent.

I’m not calm. My home is being invaded by a foreign army.

We spread out, attempting to talk the people away from yelling at the British.

“Sir, please remain calm. We will inform them they are violating our neutrality.” I offer in the most calming voice that I can muster to a man impatiently holding a cigarette in his shaking hands.

“They’re no better than the Germans, invading us like this! How is this different from Oslo? I’ll tell you how, at least there, the Norwegians resisted!”

He’s right, at least in Oslo the Norwegians put up a fight, sinking several German ships.

“Yes, but the Norwegians have a military. Sir, we have 70 policemen in the whole of Reykjavík. What would you have us do?” I reply, hoping the facts of the matter will settle him.

What can we do? They have hundreds of men pouring out of these ships. We couldn’t stop them even if we wanted to.

The rest of the crowd seems to be calming down, but this man has burned through one cigarette and is already on another. Simply burning through, rather than smoking them, as he barely brings the lit sticks to his mouth in between raves.

“I tell you, this is the end of our freedom! We’ll be at war, occupied by a foreign power. This is the end of our independence!” he barks, barely taking a break to breathe between snippets of anger.

How long will they be here? Will the Germans invade now that the British have? How will we feed them?

A less than impressive line of British soldiers begins walking up the street in front of the crowd. Wrinkled uniforms, sickly looking men, and an odd assortment of hand-held weapons combine to create the impression of a retreating, rather than invading army.

They look awful.

As I’m gazing at the motley bunch of British soldiers, the agitated man slips past me, heading directly for one of the meeker looking men in British uniform.

What’s he going to do?

Running after him, I cannot catch him in time.

He grabs hold of the poor soldier’s weapon.

No, don’t cause a problem, please!

“Take your hands from that man’s gun!” I say softly as I come up behind him, taking his arm.

Without noticing me, he stuffs a cigarette in the barrel of the gun, and then throws it back to the shocked soldier.

“Be careful with this!” the man yells at the stunned British boy soldier.

I pull him away as a British officer starts yelling at the poor soldier.

May that be the worst thing that happens today.

The man, clearly satisfied with his actions, turns and walks away.

I turn back to watch the motley army invade my homeland.

A British soldier smiles at me.

I smile back.

On May 10, 1940, a quickly assembled, poorly trained, and under-equipped British force of 746 Marines from the 2nd Royal Marine Battalion conducted Operation Fork, the invasion of neutral Iceland by landing in Reykjavik. On the heels of the German invasions of Denmark and Norway, the British felt they could not lose access to the North Atlantic and had to act quickly, despite Iceland’s declared neutrality in the war. The British ordered a reserve unit of untrained men (the only men currently available) into immediate action. (The 2nd Battalion only received orders to prepare for deployment on May 3.) The only resistance met was one man, who grabbed a soldier’s weapon, stubbed his cigarette out in its barrel, and then left the scene.

That evening, the Icelandic government formally issued a statement noting their neutrality had been “flagrantly violated” and “its independence infringed.” Iceland wanted no part in the war and intended for both warring parties to stay away from its territory. The British government attempted to put lipstick on the pig by promising payment for any damage, favorable trade agreements, non-interference in domestic affairs, and a promise that troops would be withdrawn at the end of the war. The Icelandic authorities decided it was best to cooperate but formally maintain a neutral standing. Prime Minister Hermann Jónasson made a radio address to his people that night, telling them not to interfere with the British troops. They were to treat them as guests.

To put this invasion in context, on the same day, Germany invaded France, Belgium, Luxembourg, and the Netherlands, and Winston Churchill became the Prime Minister of Britain.

One week later, 4,000 British Army troops relieved the initial invasion force. This force was subsequently augmented by Canadian and other Commonwealth troops up to 25,000. The following year, the British troops were replaced by American troops (America was not yet in the war). The Americans stayed for the rest of the war and beyond. Iceland became a member of the North Atlantic Treaty Organization and hosted American and other NATO troops throughout the Cold War. American forces officially withdrew in 2006, although NATO allies regularly deploy aircraft in Iceland, and the country is a key participant in NATO’s integrated air defense system.