By Edward Walgate
We huddled together, checked the map and plotted our strategy. The belly of the landing craft hummed with the expectant voices hundreds of other brave international invaders. Suomenlinna was our objective. The massive 17th century sea fortress guards the harbour of the Finnish capital, Helsinki. UNESCO had inspired our motley band of teachers to reconnoiter and capture its priceless cultural value.
The ship's captain broke our contemplation and alerted us that our objective in was in sight. The assault troops readied themselves and prepared for disembarkation. Mom’s and Dad’s loaded their personnel carriers, eagle eyed photographers adjusted the barrels of their Nikons, and children brandished their half eaten Magnums. The doors opened and we surged forward.
Our 4 member squad began with a reconnassance of the Naval Academy island whose imposing buildings once trained the elite of the Finnish fleet. Our progress was immediately slowed by appearance of wild fruit. There was some disagreement as to whether it was edible or not. But a keen eyed member of the party quickly identified strawberries and black currrants and neutralized them.
We ventured back onto the main island and were soon pinned down by a charming path side cafe. 3 of our party were no match for the allure of coffee and ducked inside for cover. Once steeled by caffeine and a near lethal slice of quiche we resumed our march.
After some navigational problems we found our next target, the Toy Museum. The bravest member of our group ventured in while the rest of us regathered our strength at the adjoining cafe. Cake and yet more quiche helped raise morale until Laura staggered back from her solo mission. Nazi dolls and endlessly following eyes had left her shaken. A breach of the Geneva Convention of War surely.
We headed further inland gathering valuable knowledge from informational signs along the way. It pained us to pass fellow members of the teacher brigade being cruelly crippled by the cobblestones. No time to help or even comment on their choice of foot wear. We had to move on.
We sighted the mighty walls and scaled them. Hugely impressive. Augustin Ehrensvard, the Swedish military architect, had created a truly formidable structure that even seemed to keep the angry Baltic at bay. Though sadly there are no defenses for the blinding sight of amphibious Northern Europeans on the beaches.
As we moved along the walls we came across a disheartening sight. The brigade’s officer corps appeared disorientated and were repeatedly mumbling something about a “King’s Gate”. We quickly guided them to the safety of a roof top cafe and renourished them with tea, cider and beer.
After an hour in the sunshine and sea breeze we parted with our leaders. We did them proud by locating the Gate where King Adolf Frederick of Sweden anchored and surveyed his newly commissioned fortress in 1752.
The campaign was coming to an end. We had been successful despite the island’s numerous defensive efforts. Cobblestones, convicts, creepy dolls and carbohydrates had all blocked our path. But we had fired off hundreds of shots in return (many of which can be seen on Facebook) and returned to our ship loaded with informational and cultural plunder. Suomenlinna Island Fortress had been conquered.
We huddled together, checked the map and plotted our strategy. The belly of the landing craft hummed with the expectant voices hundreds of other brave international invaders. Suomenlinna was our objective. The massive 17th century sea fortress guards the harbour of the Finnish capital, Helsinki. UNESCO had inspired our motley band of teachers to reconnoiter and capture its priceless cultural value.
The ship's captain broke our contemplation and alerted us that our objective in was in sight. The assault troops readied themselves and prepared for disembarkation. Mom’s and Dad’s loaded their personnel carriers, eagle eyed photographers adjusted the barrels of their Nikons, and children brandished their half eaten Magnums. The doors opened and we surged forward.
Our 4 member squad began with a reconnassance of the Naval Academy island whose imposing buildings once trained the elite of the Finnish fleet. Our progress was immediately slowed by appearance of wild fruit. There was some disagreement as to whether it was edible or not. But a keen eyed member of the party quickly identified strawberries and black currrants and neutralized them.
We ventured back onto the main island and were soon pinned down by a charming path side cafe. 3 of our party were no match for the allure of coffee and ducked inside for cover. Once steeled by caffeine and a near lethal slice of quiche we resumed our march.
After some navigational problems we found our next target, the Toy Museum. The bravest member of our group ventured in while the rest of us regathered our strength at the adjoining cafe. Cake and yet more quiche helped raise morale until Laura staggered back from her solo mission. Nazi dolls and endlessly following eyes had left her shaken. A breach of the Geneva Convention of War surely.
We headed further inland gathering valuable knowledge from informational signs along the way. It pained us to pass fellow members of the teacher brigade being cruelly crippled by the cobblestones. No time to help or even comment on their choice of foot wear. We had to move on.
We sighted the mighty walls and scaled them. Hugely impressive. Augustin Ehrensvard, the Swedish military architect, had created a truly formidable structure that even seemed to keep the angry Baltic at bay. Though sadly there are no defenses for the blinding sight of amphibious Northern Europeans on the beaches.
As we moved along the walls we came across a disheartening sight. The brigade’s officer corps appeared disorientated and were repeatedly mumbling something about a “King’s Gate”. We quickly guided them to the safety of a roof top cafe and renourished them with tea, cider and beer.
After an hour in the sunshine and sea breeze we parted with our leaders. We did them proud by locating the Gate where King Adolf Frederick of Sweden anchored and surveyed his newly commissioned fortress in 1752.
The campaign was coming to an end. We had been successful despite the island’s numerous defensive efforts. Cobblestones, convicts, creepy dolls and carbohydrates had all blocked our path. But we had fired off hundreds of shots in return (many of which can be seen on Facebook) and returned to our ship loaded with informational and cultural plunder. Suomenlinna Island Fortress had been conquered.