Martin Rogers

USA TODAY Sports

SAINT-DENIS, France – It might have been a thousand years or more since this many Vikings crossed the seas to strike fear into an invaded nation, but here they were on Sunday evening, an Icelandic army complete with tusked helmets, war paint, tribal colors and….beaming smiles.

Iceland’s ancient history might be equal parts noble and bloodthirsty but its most modern adventure, the dramatic run of its soccer team at the European Championships, has been nothing but heartwarming.

Ahead of the tiny Scandinavian country’s quarterfinal against host France on Sunday an estimated 12 percent on Iceland’s population of 330,000 had descended upon these shores, an amount that has grown with each stage of progress through the tournament.

Last Monday’s extraordinary victory over England in the round of 16 sent the place into national rapture, so much so that men, women, children and probably even a puffin or two found whatever means possible to get themselves to the Stade de France.

“I forgot about my studies, that can wait,” Magnus Ver, the third such named person USA TODAY Sports has met over the past week, said. The common joke in Iceland is that here there are only two degrees of separation – if you don’t know someone personally, you know someone that does.

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“I couldn’t really afford the flight, but my uncle loaned me some money as long as I work in his garden to pay it off,” he added.

Iceland’s appealing flag, predominantly blue with a red and white cross, was little known before these championships. It is everywhere now, flying in train carriage windows and out of cars heading into Paris.

France loves a party and its own team was seen as a tournament favorite going into the game, but its supporters seemed outnumbered on the public transit systems of the city this weekend.

They weren’t really of course, once inside the Stade de France the hosts were exponentially better supported, in an atmosphere that was pleasant all round.

For it is impossible to hate an underdog like Iceland, one that comes with good cheer, a friendly nature and a stirring war cry that its players sometimes join.

“We want to represent the country in the right way,” Sigurd, a middle-aged financier said, before adding that his last name wasn’t worth including because “you don’t have enough space on the page.”

“Of course we want to win, desperately,” he added. “But we also understand this is the first time that a lot of people internationally will really think about Iceland. We want to give them a good impression.”