The Baltic Sea — So Beautiful, So Terrifying

This is another chapter from Strandhugg i skärgården (Shoreside Forays in the Archipelago), which was published in Sweden in November 2021 (ISBN 978-91-527-0378-6), a month before Russia threatened Finland and Sweden regarding their plans to join NATO. The Baltic Sea has a dark history of devastating maritime disasters during both wartime and peacetime, highlighting the need for peace and safety.

The Baltic Sea is beautiful yet frightening. Over the centuries, many boats and ships have been lost there. Is it safer aboard a large ship than a small one? Many lives were lost during naval battles with the Danes and Russians spanning several decades.

On September 28, 1994, the ferry M/S Estonia sank. A total of 852 people perished, 501 of whom were Swedish. As far as I know, only the RMS Titanic disaster in the Atlantic in 1912 and the RMS Empress of Ireland disaster in the St. Lawrence River in 1914 were worse in peacetime. Around 1,500 and 1,000 people died in these disasters, respectively. Since the book's publication in 2021, it has become apparent that other maritime disasters caused even greater loss of life. For example, more than 4,000 people died in a massive explosion and subsequent fire when the Philippine passenger ship MV Doña Paz collided with an oil tanker in 1987.

During World War II, the Baltic Sea became a sea of death without equal. The world’s largest modern naval battle took place off Juminda, Estonia, from August 27 to 31, 1941. Estonia was occupied by the Soviet Union at the time, and Tallinn served as the base for the Soviet Baltic Fleet.

On June 22, 1941, Germany attacked the Soviet Union without declaring war. Prior to this, a 1939 treaty containing a mix of official and secret provisions had enshrined peace between the two nations. On August 19, the Germans launched their final offensive to capture Tallinn by land. When the situation became untenable for the Soviets, their leadership decided to evacuate the area.

To understand how this situation arose, one must look back to November 30, 1939, when the Soviet Union launched an unprovoked attack on a neutral Finland. This conflict became known as the Winter War. A secret clause in the non-aggression pact between Germany and the Soviet Union had granted the Soviets free rein regarding Finland and the Baltic states, while also agreeing to divide Poland between them.

The Swedish military was mobilised and, by Christmas, the 100,000-strong Swedish 2nd Army Corps was stationed in the Torne Valley on the Swedish side of the border. The corps commander was waiting for permission from the newly formed Swedish coalition government to cross over. My father was one of the conscripts stationed there. However, the government ultimately decided against sending troops into Finland.

Despite a severe domestic shortage, Sweden sent critical military equipment—including one-third of its aircraft—to Finland. A Swedish volunteer corps was formed to fight alongside the Finns, and Sweden provided medical resources to treat the wounded. The United States, which was neutral at the time, also sent military equipment to assist. Through a peace agreement with the Soviet Union on March 13, 1940, Finland lost Karelia and several other territories.

Shortly thereafter, on April 9, 1940, Germany occupied the then-neutral nations of Denmark and Norway. Germany justified the occupation as a means of protecting iron ore shipments from the Kiruna mines via Narvik.

Returning to the summer of 1941, the Germans attacked the Soviet Union without warning, breaking their agreement. Three days later, the Soviet Union attacked Finland again, even though the Finns had declared their neutrality. Consequently, Finland and Germany became allies—a controversial move. The Finns were likely left with no other choice due to their desperate situation.

The only possible route out of Tallinn for Soviet ships was through the Gulf of Finland, then eastward to Saint Petersburg (Leningrad at the time). The German and Finnish naval commands realized early on that the ships would attempt a breakout. As early as August 8, they began laying mines in the waters off the coast of Juminda and Lahemaa.

Fifty ships were sunk during the Soviet retreat by heavy gunfire and mine explosions; thirty-four of the sunken vessels were merchant ships. The attacks were primarily carried out by German military ships and the German Air Force, with assistance from Finnish warships. A total of 165 ships reached Leningrad, rescuing approximately 28,000 people. However, a massive number of people died during the fighting. The exact number remains uncertain, but estimates range from 12,000 to 25,000.

By the end of the war, the tide had turned. It was now the Germans who were fleeing the Baltic region, with the Soviets close behind. The Germans initiated a massive evacuation, launching Operation Hannibal.

The passenger ship Wilhelm Gustloff had been deployed to transport military personnel and civilians to Kiel. Heavily overcrowded, she was en route on January 30, 1945, when she was torpedoed by the Soviet submarine S-13 and sank. This incident became the deadliest maritime disaster in history. Eighty-five percent of those on board were civilians. Over 9,000 people died in total, including approximately 5,000 children. Those who did not perish in the initial torpedo strike either drowned after becoming trapped inside the ship or succumbed to the freezing water. The air temperature ranged from minus ten to minus eighteen degrees Celsius (14°F to 0°F).

A week and a half later, during the same operation on the night of February 9–10, 1945, the same submarine sank the S/S General von Steuben, a passenger ship transporting wounded German soldiers, military personnel, and approximately 800 civilians. The ship was traveling from the port of Pillau near Königsberg to Swinemünde. The incident resulted in the deaths of approximately 4,500 people.

On May 3, 1945—the day before peace was declared in Europe—the S/S Cap Arcona was sunk by the Allies while anchored in the port of Lübeck. Between 7,000 and 8,000 former concentration camp prisoners were aboard the ship and in the harbor. The local Red Cross, as well as the Swedish and Swiss Red Cross organizations, had informed the British of the situation. Despite these warnings, the Royal Air Force (RAF) attacked the ships from the air. Approximately 4,650 people on the Cap Arcona died. Those on other ships were fortunately evacuated in time.

The worst maritime disaster to strike Sweden during this period was the sinking of the S/S Hansa, a neutral passenger ship. The Hansa was en route to Gotland, traveling between Nynäshamn and Visby. On November 24, 1944, the Soviet submarine L-21 torpedoed her. Only two people survived; the other 84 aboard perished.

With the world’s largest naval battle in modern times and some of the worst maritime disasters in history, the Baltic Sea is perhaps the most dangerous sea in the world. Yet, the sea itself is not inherently dangerous; it is the people around it who make it so. Wars have been the primary cause. In peacetime, several incidents have been due to shortcomings on the part of those responsible for the vessels.

Sweden has not been at war for over two hundred years, ever since Jean Bernadotte (1763–1844) gained influence over Swedish politics. The last conflict was a campaign against Norway in 1814. Apart from the Cold War, there has been no open warfare between the countries surrounding the Baltic Sea since World War II. This inland sea is dangerous enough without conflict. The Baltic Sea could truly become a sea of peace. Instead of using military resources for war, they could be used to restore the environment in the water, on the beaches, and throughout the archipelagos.

Jean Bernadotte became King Karl XIV Johan in 1818, and he is the ancestor of the current king. Unlike King Carl XVI Gustaf, he had the privilege of choosing his role. During his reign, the groundwork was laid for the Swedish Industrial Revolution of the 1850s. This economic shift occurred after his death in 1844. In France, where he was born, the industrial revolution had taken hold much earlier.

In addition to the disasters mentioned earlier, many other boats and ships have sunk during times of war and peace, both before and after the twentieth century. These incidents have occurred not only on the open sea but also within the archipelagos, resulting in many fatal shipwrecks.

In this context, I would like to take this opportunity to share some additional information about the M/V Wilhelm Gustloff. It departed Germany on July 17, 1939, bound for Sweden, and returned on July 25. Approximately 1,000 people on board participated in the Lingiade in Stockholm. The event opened on July 20 with a World Gymnastics Festival and continued for three more days. It was organized in honor of Pehr Henrik Ling (1776–1839) to commemorate the centennial of his death. A total of 7,399 gymnasts from 37 countries attended. Ling was the founder of Ling gymnastics, a form of exercise that emphasizes the importance of balance between body and mind.

During the Lingiade, the importance of peace among different peoples and cultures was widely discussed. Six weeks later, however, those ideals meant very little. On September 1, 1939, Adolf Hitler ordered the invasion of Poland, officially starting World War II.

The moral of the story is that it is crucial to strive for lasting peace among nations, while also remaining prepared for conflict when a neighboring country arms itself for an attack. Since World War II, the EU has been successful in maintaining peace among its member states. Hopefully, this will continue to be the case. Those who know their history understand exactly what war—especially war at sea and in coastal regions like this one—can lead to.

I return to my little world on the edge of the Baltic Sea. The weather here can change quickly, so you must adapt to the current conditions. At worst, enjoyment can turn into a struggle for survival. It’s important to be as prepared as possible for whatever might happen. The experiences far outweigh the already small risks.

Next blog

This concludes my Baltic Sea series. But the story of Swedish fiber optics is far from over. When I return after the July summer break on Tuesday, August 4, 2026, I will be plunging beneath the surface. While submarine cables already existed elsewhere, bringing them into the Stockholm archipelago was a completely new challenge. The next post will uncover this project—an ambitious initiative far ahead of its time, designed to deliver the network capacity and services that Swedish subscribers take for granted today, but from over twenty years ago. Stay tuned!

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