Success in World War II depended not only on tanks, aircraft, and infantry, but also on the strategic advantage provided by intelligence. Both the Allies and Axis powers relied on espionage, code-breaking, and covert operations to gain the upper hand. Although modern retellings often highlight high-tech gadgets and secret devices, some of the war’s most decisive insights came from surprisingly simple sources. One of the most influential was weather intelligence: accurate forecasts shaped invasion timetables, guided naval movements, and informed airstrike planning. In the end, meteorology proved to be a vital—if often underappreciated—factor that helped steer the course of the conflict.
Weather played an important role in World War II
Precise weather predictions were crucial to naval strategy, particularly in the treacherous and ever-changing climate of the North Atlantic. These forecasts were key to guiding ships and convoys safely across dangerous waters, and they also helped identify optimal conditions for air assaults and surveillance flights.
This gave rise to what became known as the “North Atlantic Weather War“—an intelligence struggle where the Allies enjoyed a clear upper hand. Because weather systems in the Arctic and North Atlantic typically traveled from west to east, the Allies’ geographic position worked in their favor. Early in the war, they established an extensive network of weather observation posts throughout North America, Greenland, and Iceland, providing a steady stream of superior data that the Germans couldn’t match.
But like any intelligence effort, the objective wasn’t just gathering vital information—it was also about protecting it from enemy interception.
Germany was far behind the Allies
Lagging behind the Allies in gathering crucial weather intelligence, the Germans turned to risky alternatives. They deployed used specially-modified aircraft, naval ships, and even U-boats in daring missions to collect meteorological data. But these efforts often ended in failure—lone weather ships were vulnerable targets for Allied forces, and aircraft had limited range and effectiveness for such specialized tasks.
Realizing they needed a more reliable solution to close the gap, the German military devised an audacious plan: establish their own weather stations on North American soil. This led to the development of the Wetter-Funkgerät Land (WFL)—a covert, automated weather station designed for enemy territory.
Wetter-Funkgerät Land
Scientists at Siemens developed an automatic weather station capable of transmitting data every three hours via radio waves on 3940 kHz. Known as the Wetter-Funkgerät Land, twenty-six were manufactured; 14 were placed in Arctic and sub-Arctic regions, including Allied-occupied Greenland, and five were stationed around the Barents Sea. Two were designated for North America.
The WFL featured an array of specialized instruments, including two masts. One of these masts held the anemometer, which measured wind speed and direction. It also included a telemetry device that automatically recorded data and transmitted it via a radio signal. Powered by rechargeable nickel-cadmium batteries, it could operate for up to six months.
Two U-boats were assigned to install the automatic weather stations in North America. U-537 was the first and only one to successfully deploy the WFL, codenamed “Kurt.” The second, U-867, was sunk in 1944 near the Norwegian coast by a Royal Air Force (RAF) bomber.
Installing the Wetter-Funkgerät Land on North American soil
Commanded by Kapitänleutnant Peter Schrewe, U-537 undertook a remarkable World War II operation, transporting two German meteorologists, Dr. Kurt Sommermeyer and Walter Hildebrant, to establish a remote weather outpost.
The journey itself proved treacherous—not from enemy engagement, but from the unforgiving Arctic environment. The submarine was battered by violent storms and collided with an iceberg, damaging its hull and destroying the anti-aircraft gun, creating leaks that would need repair once ashore.
On October 22, 1943, U-537 arrived along the northern coast of Labrador. Schrewe sought to deploy the weather station in a completely isolated area to minimize the risk of discovery, a challenge complicated by the presence of Inuit hunters nearby. Ultimately, a remote location in Martin Bay, at the northeastern edge of the Labrador Peninsula, was selected for maximum secrecy.
A reconnaissance team first landed to assess the terrain. Soon after, the meteorologists, assisted by several crew members, began installing the 100-kilogram automated weather device, known as the Wetter-Funkgerät Land. Armed personnel remained on site to secure the installation, while the rest of the crew worked to repair the submarine in preparation for its return voyage.
Camouflaging Weather Station Kurt
Weather Station Kurt was cleverly disguised to avoid detection. The Germans labeled the equipment with the logo and name of a fictitious group—the “Canadian Meteor Service”—and even littered the area with empty American cigarette packs to give the illusion that Allied forces had installed it. At the time, most civilians had limited knowledge of military operations, and German intelligence believed that lower-ranking Allied troops, if they stumbled upon the station, would likely overlook it to avoid drawing attention.
The submarine U-537, which deployed the station, spent less than 30 hours on the coast of Newfoundland before beginning its return journey. During the voyage home, the sub was attacked three times near the Grand Banks by Canadian aircraft. Despite the dangers, the U-boat survived each encounter and made it back to the port of Lorient in German-occupied France on December 8, 1943—70 days after its mission began. Though U-537 didn’t claim any Allied vessels on that patrol, the mission marked a rare instance of German activity on North American soil.
Becoming a forgotten part of World War II-era history
Weather Station Kurt only worked for a few weeks before failing, and it remained undiscovered long after World War II was over. In 1977, geomorphologist Peter Johnson was conducting research near Martin Bay when he stumbled upon the site. He thought it was a Canadian military outpost and simply marked it as “Martin Bay 7” on the map he kept during his research.
Around that same time, a retired Siemens engineer named Franz Selinger was writing a history of the company. He went through Kurt Sommermeyer’s papers and learned of the station’s existence. He subsequently notified the Canadian Ministry of Defence.
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In 1981, Weather Station Kurt was officially discovered, standing on the same spot where the Germans had left it over 30 years prior. It was dismantled and taken to the Canadian War Museum in Ottawa, Ontario, where it remains on display to this day.