BY ROGER WATSON
Number 24 (2024) is a Norwegian production directed by John Andreas Andersen. The film, available on Netflix this year with English dubbing, tells the true story of Norwegian World War II hero Gunnar Sønsteby. Sjur Vatne Brean and Erik Hivju portray Sønsteby in his youth and later years, respectively.
The narrative shifts between two timelines: Sønsteby’s wartime resistance efforts and a lecture he delivers late in life to Norwegian school students. As he recounts his experiences, key moments trigger gripping flashbacks that depict the formation of a young resistance group determined to sabotage the Nazi occupation—despite the immense personal risk involved.
Initially, their missions seem exhilarating, with a series of successful operations targeting Nazi-controlled infrastructure, with the copious use of dynamite. However, the Gestapo gradually tightens its grip. One of Sønsteby’s comrades, captured and tortured, ultimately betrays him. Forced to flee Norway, Sønsteby escapes to England, where he contacts the Special Operations Executive (SOE). After an intense vetting process, the British intelligence agency entrusts him with clandestine missions, sending him back to Norway to continue his fight. As his operations become increasingly effective, the Nazis intensify their efforts to track him down.
Number 24 raises profound moral questions, particularly through the older Sønsteby’s interaction with his students. During the lecture, when he invites questions, a pivotal moment from his past resurfaces. Following the torture and execution of a fellow resistance fighter, a comrade once asked, “What kind of people could do this?” The film, however, misses an opportunity to explore Sønsteby’s reflections on the uncomfortable reality that among his own people were both brave resistance fighters and those who collaborated with the Nazis—betraying their countrymen and aiding in the suppression of Norway. What separates a patriot from a traitor? Are people capable of being either, depending on circumstance?
Sønsteby’s SOE mission required absolute commitment, including the execution of Norwegian collaborators. Unlike some of his resistance colleagues who seemed hesitatant, he accepted the task without question. The film depicts these assassinations in chilling detail—some carried out summarily in broad daylight, witnessed by family members, and concluded with a coup de grâce.
As the film nears its conclusion, a student challenges Sønsteby about the executions. Bound by secrecy, he provides only a vague justification. One girl, however, refuses to let the subject drop. After the lecture, she approaches him privately, revealing that her great-uncle was one of the executed collaborators. She asks if Sønsteby remembers the case. He denies any knowledge.
In a final flashback, the truth is revealed—Sønsteby not only knew of her great-uncle’s execution but had personally ordered it. While the specific circumstances may be a product of cinematic license, they reinforce the brutal reality of resistance warfare: survival often demanded ruthless decisions, carried out without hesitation.
Gunnar Sønsteby died in 2012 at the age of 94. Following the war, he became a businessman and frequently lectured on the lessons of World War II. Number 24 is both moving and thought-provoking, yet its central message remains ambiguous—perhaps intentionally so. It leaves the viewer with an unsettling truth: in war, people commit terrible acts, sometimes in the name of freedom.
The film also evokes the story of Leif Hovelsen, another Norwegian resistance fighter. Captured and tortured by the Gestapo, he refused to break. After the war, he found the strength to forgive his tormentors—one of them even in person before the man’s execution. This act of reconciliation brought Hovelsen peace and fuelled his efforts to mend relations between Norway and Germany. Whether Gunnar Sønsteby ever found it in himself to forgive—either the Germans or the Norwegian collaborators—remains unknown.
Roger Watson is a Registered Nurse and Editor-in-Chief of Nurse Education in Practice.