COLD WAR WARRIOR

OLDNAVYMCPO

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Last month's issue of The American Rifleman had an article on the Cold War in Germany and the troops and weapons involved. This brought to mind my inadvertent involvement in that conflict even though I was just a kid.

In 1951, my father was a US Army Captain stationed in Germany. He was a Battery Commander of a 90mm AA battery of the 552 Field Artillery. The family accompanied him within a few months. At first we lived in a little German town called Durlach. We were one of only a few American families there. I was only eight years old when we first arrived. We lived in a large, old house, far grander than we could have afforded on my father's salary. The house had been "liberated" from a high ranking Nazi. The house property encompassed a large vineyard and many fruit trees. There was also a substantial garden. Behind our property was a privately owned nursery that was not operational, an open field to a large extent.

American dependent children were required to have ID cards and wear dog tags at all times. We attended an American school in Karlsruhe. The town was pretty well bombed out and much of it was off limits to Americans because of anti-American sentiments.

We had a German housekeeper whose husband had been captured by the Russians on the Eastern Front. Although he was executed almost immediately, the Russians extorted money from her to supposedly provide for his welfare. Bertha lived with us and was a very caring person. She was very proud of her position and "showed off" her charges at every opportunity. She taught each of us kids to speak fluent German. She had very anti-Nazi feelings and was opinionated and outspoken. There existed in Germany a very pro-Hitler faction among the youth. This caused complications because Bertha would get into arguments with members of the pro-Hitler group. I overheard many of these arguments as the others didn't know I understood the language. Bertha's family lived in a surviving portion of a bombed out apartment building in the "off limits" portion of Karlsruhe. One night on her way to our house, Bertha was attacked and brutally slashed and stabbed by her antagonists. She made it to our house where my mother found her trying to stitch her wounds. The MPs and local police were called and Bertha was hospitalized. We never saw her again. Shortly thereafter, a gang of pro-Hitler youths attacked our home one night while my Father was away on a field exercise. Again the MPs and police were called and camped out at our house for days.

It was during this period that I was befriended by young man (20's). This was highly unusual because there were very few young men in Germany at that time due to war casualties. He also spoke very educated English without slang of any kind. He had no job and no visible means of support. He lived in the nursery area behind our property in a travel trailer with a woman. He claimed to be an artist although I only ever saw one drawing.

He, my younger brother and I would go on long hikes together and spend many hours at his trailer visiting. He claimed to not have fought in the war but without explanation of how that was possible. He frequently gave me gifts of stamps for my collection or sometimes German uniform items. He once gave me a Hitler Youth knife. He often visited my house and would try and engage my father in political discussions.

I didn't learn until I became an adult that this man and his wife/ girlfriend were not Germans but Russian spies. My father had suspected this early on and had reported them to Army intel. CID had purposely encouraged this friendship while the spies were under observation and investigation. They were both later arrested and I never saw them again.

So inadvertently I played a role in the Cold War.
 

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Very interesting post as I have never read much about the early post war years in Germany. I remember my Dad and other WW II vets worrying about the Russians etc. and he even built a bomb shelter. The Cuban missile crisis probably was the big thing for me and influenced my Army service.
 
Ha! Another "Army brat", turned retired squid checking in. I was born in Frankfurt in 1961, and we returned to Hiedelburg in like 1968 or so for three more years. I remember that I did have dog tags, and we lived in three story apartment houses, with loft apartments for our German housekeepers. I remember big old steam locomotives going by across the street, and beyond the fence and Luftwaffe Starfighters streaking across the sky on patrols. Back then, the common thought was the Russkies would be to the Rhine in six days, if it hit the fan. Four Marks to the Dollar. Good times...
(Not so good times: I remember the Badder Meinhof gang bombing our base, Campbell Barracks, killed three GIs)
 
when I got to Rhein Main AB in 1970 the exchange rate was 4 marks to the dollar which was good. you could have a really good time in Frankfurt on $20. the downside was we didn't get paid very much either. I think when I left in 1973 I was only making about $375 a month as an E-4.
 
Well, since we're reminiscing about the Cold War days, here's my story. When I was 3, back in 1958, my dad was a US Army captain and was stationed at Patch Barracks, in Vaihingen (outside of Stuttgart) when he was assigned to 7th Army Headquarters. We lived in family housing. I remember there was a little shop just outside the front gate that sold orange sprudelwasser and peanuts in the shell and that was a special treat my Mom and Dad would get me. For whatever reason, I will always remember that. My two favorite memories of my Dad from that time was seeing him walk down the sidewalk to our family housing building in his pinks, slapping his leg with his swagger stick (which, BTW, is hanging on my office wall as I type this). The other is him taking me to the Officers' Club bar, buying me a chocolate milkshake, sitting me down in front of what seemed to be a huge aquarium filled with neon tetra and guppies, while he and his buddies had drinks at the bar.

Flash forward to 1978 when I was a brand new US Army 2LT and was assigned to Panzer Kaserne in Boeblingen, a few miles from Patch Barracks, which was the headquarters of the US Army European Command (EUCOM) after 7th Army HQ moved to Heidelberg. Pretty much was all the same as I remembered it, except it all seemed a lot smaller in scale. The O Club bar was exactly the same, minus the German waiters in red waistcoats and black tuxedo pants. The fish tank seemed to be a lot smaller, too. But my first drink there was a chocolate milkshake.
 
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stevno....
I was in Frankfurt from 71-73.
I was stationed at the 21st repo depot.
I spent a lot of time at Rein Mein waiting on flights.
I think that same gang mentioned above bombed the IG farbin building down town Frankfurt....It was our Headquarters building....
I remenber the 4 marks per dollar, But buy the time I left in 73 it was down to 2 marks a dollar......
 
in 1973 it was still about 3.25 marks to a dollar. I went back to Germany as a civilian in 1975 and it was about 2.9 marks to a dollar. if it had been around 2 marks I wouldn't have went back over.

if you were ever in the I.G. Farben building you will remember the elevators.

[ame]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xyK7F9_1G1o[/ame]
 
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