Behind The Iron Curtain, Part II

I had planned to continue a previous post last night, but I went out on a walking photo safari and, even though I drank plenty of water, still came down with a bit of heat exhaustion. In the end, I couldn't think straight and decided I'd to continue it this evening.

So, in the last amazing chapter of my time behind the Iron Curtain, myself and a friend had just returned from a rather interesting self-guided tour of East Berlin. Our first day in Berlin had turned into a really interesting time. But it wasn't to end with that first day.

For the next week or so, we attended conference activities and even put out the local newspaper for Templehof Airport when the regular editor went on leave. We also visited a variety of places in West Berlin, from the offices of the largest newspaper to the offices of magazines published in West Berlin. The tours were interesting and added a lot to our knowledge of the job we did.

But the day came when the group of editors from the southern reaches of the U.S. Air Force in Europe were to travel into East Berlin on a bus tour of the Soviet portion of the divided city. This time, instead of walking through the gate at Checkpoint Charlie, we rode through it in a blue bus. I don't remember the exact route we took, or the order in which we arrived at the places we went, but I am sure our first stop was at the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier.

Inside the tomb is a monument to the unknown soldiers who died fighting fascism. There was some really nice tile mosaics and an eternal flame inside the building. After we had looked it over, we went back outside to await the changing of the guard. At that time, the tomb had two East German soldiers standing on either side of the entrance. The soldiers held their weapons in the palm of their hands, with their hands placed against their side about two thirds of the way down from their shoulder to their waist. I knew it was a difficult way to hold the rifle.

Under the foot of each guard was a switch. When their arm tired, the pressed on the switch and a bell would ring. One second after the bell finished ringing, the guards would, in unison, switch the weapon to their other arm. A sensible way to do things to keep the guards from dropping their rifles.

Now, the guards faced outward towards the people in the street in front of them. Behind them was a walkway which was similar to a porch. When I left the inside part of the tomb, I walked along the porch area and stopped directly behind the guard who was on the left side of the building as you looked at it. I was several feet behind him, but still visible to those on the street. I soon realized people were taking our photo. For most, it was probably a "Good Guy, Bad Guy" photo with me being the bad guy. But I didn't care...I knew where I was.

Then the guard began to realize something was going on also, what with all these people taking his photo. As I stood behind this young man, I stood tall with a large smile and my chin held high. And then I noticed very slight movements in the head of the guard. I could only imagine him trying to glance behind his back to see what was so photogenic back there (not that I am photogenic, I was the bad guy remember?). So as his head made slight twitches to his right, I took one giant step forward and to my right, and into his peripheral vision.

Well, he lost it. His weapon started to waiver, his head shook, and his bell rang. Figuring he already blew it, he turned looking right at me and scowled, then switched the arm holding his weapon. I'm sure if it had been loaded, he probably would have emptied it into me. I walked off the walkway and joined my fellow editors in the crowds waiting to watch the changing of the guards. When it was finished, I am sure there was one East German glad he wasn't on duty anymore.

I got a kick out of that and figured I had gotten the troop in trouble. But I wasn't finished. As our bus moved along the roads of East Berlin, we came upon a four lane road. Not long after we got on that road, a military truck pulled up along side of us. I need to set the stage right now with a description of our bus load of people. All but one of us, were men. The woman was a stunning redhead named Deb. She was sitting several seats in front of me looking out the window on the side where the military truck pulled along of us. I was in the back of the bus.

This military truck was a Soviet truck. I could tell by the markings it belonged to the Russians. In the back of the truck, on both sides, sat Soviet troops, most likely conscripted soldiers of the USSR. In the middle, in the front of the back bed, sat a large, nasty looking NCO.

It didn't take the troops in the truck to notice Deb. They started stealing glances towards her and those whose backs were to our bus, began turning around to see for themselves. When I noticed Deb was the object of attention, I said, "Deb, start blowing them kisses or something." And she did. She no more than got started when the troops on the far side of the truck moved over to our side and those whose backs had been facing us were now turned around. They were reaching out for Deb's kisses and smiling and saying something in Russian I didn't understand.

But it all ended as soon as the NCO in the front of the truck bed barked something. They all immediately returned to their seats, their eyes staring straight ahead. Deb had stopped what she had been doing, but I was in the back of the bus laughing. And then I locked my gaze on the large NCO in the front of the truck bed. His gaze was directly on me. I guess he knew I instigated the performance and his stare on me was one that would have killed if it could have. I stared back and the two of us didn't break our stare until the truck turned off onto another street. Again, I felt good and I knew I showed that Soviet NCO that this particular US Air Force NCO wasn't afraid of him or his troops at all.

We continued on with our tour. At one point we passed Hitler's Bunker, or what was left of it. It sat in an open field surrounded by nothing, giving no indication what it was to anyone who didn't know. And then the tour continued.

Soon, we entered an area which looked important and moments later, our tour guide told us how important the area was. The building we were soon to pass on right was the equivalent to our White House. It was the home of the chancellor of East Germany. As I looked forward in the direction we were travelling I noticed the road we were on was a single lane, winding road which cut its way through what would have been a park setting anywhere else. In East Berlin, it was just one more open area surrounding a large, important building. As we passed the building, I looked towards it and saw a black sedan heading our way from the building. When it got to the road we were on, it turned left and headed towards us.

With me sitting in the back of the bus, I had a nice view of what happened next. The driver of the car sped up, got right on our tail and tried to go around us. The road being a single lane road also had curbing on it which was maybe 10 inches high. In the back of the car, I could see someone lean forward, look at me, say something to the driver and then lean back. At that point, the driver unsuccessfully tried to go over the curbing and around us. It was then I noticed the license plate on the car. It read, "DDR 1." It was the car of the chancellor and it was probably him the in the backseat. At this point, the driver started blowing his horn.

When our tour guide heard the racket, our he asked me what was going on back there and I told him some guy in a black sedan with plate number DDR 1 is trying to get around us. He laughed and said let him try. I then asked if he was who I thought he was and was told he probably was. I then looked back at the driver who now was trying to wave us to the side so him could get by.

If our bus driver had hugged either side of the road we were on, there may have been enough room for the car to pass, but our driver was hogging the road and as I watched the driver frantically wave, and the man in the back lean forward and look at me, I shrugged my shoulders and flipped them the bird. I then flashed a large smile and watched as the car began falling behind. By this time I was laughing so hard, I was rolling around in my seat. The look on the face of the driver said everything. Total confusion.

A few minutes later, we arrived at the Soviet Military Cemetery in East Berlin. It is a beautiful cemetery and in respect for the men and women who lost their life fighting Hitler's Germany, I showed proper respect for the fallen. I took a number of photos there, and even got into a conversation with a gentleman and his family from Romania.

When the tour was over, we headed for Checkpoint Charlie. We were heading back to West Berlin. I must admit I enjoyed our tour of East Berlin and I know there are a number of people who probably still wonder who that asshole American was on that day.

But what made all of what I did so special for me, was the fact the day we decided to tour East Berlin, was the 60th anniversary of the October Revolution and I am sure the troops I got in trouble in the back of that truck were going to do something for the celebration. And the chancellor guy I flipped off was probably trying to get to some celebration with his Soviet puppeteers, thinking they would never believe his excuse for being late. And that guard at the tomb probably still has nightmares about that split second moment he caught sight of me moving behind him.

Even today, I laugh at what I did that day. We were in the middle of the Cold War and what better way is there to fight a Cold War, than to confront the enemy on their home field. That, I am proud of.

But if anyone reading this remembers me from that day, today I say, "I am sorry if I caused you any trouble." And to the NCO in the back of that truck, I know you know what I was doing. I hope you didn't take it out on our troops too badly.

Berlin was a temporary assignment I will never forget. Those two weeks there were better than any three years I could have lived there had my assignment there gone through.

Behind The Iron Curtain, Part I

Months ago, I debated with myself whether I should post certain photos to my Flickr Photostream. After doing a bit of research and weighing the good and bad reasons, I decided to go ahead and post those photos.

The photos weren't taken with the latest digital gear, nor were they taken with the finest 35mm color film. They were shot with Tri-X, a black and white Kodak film. And, they were shot 30 years ago. They were shot during another period of time when global tensions were strained, and two giants faced each other across the ring.

They were shot in the then cities of West Berlin and East Berlin.

Today, that beautiful city is known simply as Berlin. A wall, which split the city is no longer a barrier. In November of 1989, the single most oppressive object the world has known, fell. That object was known simply as The Wall. It went up in the early '60s and turned the western portion of Berlin into what was often called "an island of democracy in a sea of communism."

I went to Berlin because the Commander in Chief of US Air Forces, Europe wanted all of the newspaper editors under his command to go there, see what it was all about and tell the people who read their newspapers, what it is all about...why American troops were in Europe at that time. So a Newspaper Editor's Conference was set up for Berlin.

When I was stateside, I had gotten orders assigning me to Templehof Airport in Berlin, but during my processing for that assignment, I was told my assignment was being changed to Aviano AB, Italy. I was a bit disappointed, as Berlin was, in my mind, a magical place. Full of history, I was looking forward to my assignment there. But Italy had its good points and more. After a year and a half in Italy, I was loving the area of Italy I was in and the assignment.

However, when the opportunity came up to go to Berlin, I was very happy. When the date for my departure arrived, I took off in a train headed for Frankfort, West Germany. My train ride took about eight hours to get there and once I arrived, I was told I would have another 12-14 hours on the Troop Train, which would take us through East Germany and finally into West Berlin. It was a long ride, filled with lots of stops at train stations along the way. We were told to keep the curtains closed in our cabins while the train was at a stop.

At each stop, the train filled with Americans, was watched closely by the East German army, or maybe, police. I'm not sure which, but at one stop when I did lift the curtain and peer outside, I saw two uniformed individuals with AK-47s walking by the train car. When they saw me, they raised their weapons and headed towards the window. I dropped the curtain, closed my eyes, shook my head and knew I would soon be dragged out of the car by armed guards who would take me to a dark dungeon, lock me in and turn me into the latest pawn in the international game of the Cold War.

That didn't happen, because moments later, the train started to move. It didn't take me long to realize I was in Indian Country. Our train was riding through a part of the world where I was considered the bad guy. After "beating the system" (so to speak) at that one stop, I figured I knew the game and that I would play by my rules...or at least try. When we finally arrived in West Berlin, one of our first requests was to see Checkpoint Charlie.

While there, myself and another editor there for the conference, decided we were going into East Berlin on our own. Around 2 pm, we casually walked through the gates at Checkpoint Charlie, stopped at the currency exchange on the other side, got some East German marks and headed off for a makeshift tour of one of the most well-known, but secretive cities in the world at the time.

It wasn't long before I began to notice a couple of people following us. I decided I was going to let them know I knew they were there. So when we rounded a corner and were out of sight temporarily, I moved over to a wall of a building between us and waited. When the two came into sight, I smiled, waved at them and watched their reaction. There was a moment of confusion in the faces of the two which brought a bigger smile to my face. I shook my head and walked back to my friend.

Later on, when we became hungry, the two of us decided to get something to eat. As we walked along a row of buildings, the sounds of people enjoying themselves and the smell of food drew our attention and in we went. Prior to us going in the restaurant, we could hear people talking, laughing and having a good time. It was something we had not heard or experienced since crossing through Checkpoint Charlie early that day. But as soon as we went in, the place got so quiet, a person on side of the room could have heard a dropped feather hit the floor on the other side of the room.

When the shock of our appearance wore off, one of the people working in the eatery came over and asked us what we wanted. In our broken German, we managed to tell the person we wanted to eat and we were then escorted to raised table along the back wall of the room. Moments after we sat down, the door opened again, and two men entered the place and took seats near the front. I watched them, and when both were looking my way, I smiled and slowly dipped my head in acknowledgment of their presence. I knew they were probably East German Secret Police (Stasi) assigned to watch us, just like the earlier pair.

As we were being served our food, I saw the pair get up and leave. I figured they knew we had to come out sooner or later and that they would pick us up then. When we finally did finish our meal and walked outside, we realized it was dark and late and we had no idea of where we were. We had to be back at Checkpoint Charlie at midnight or all sorts of things were going to happen which wouldn't be good for us. So we started asking people walking along the sidewalk, the direction Checkpoint Charlie was. Everyone we asked, must have known we were being watched, as they would ignored us and quickly walk away. I was wishing those watching us would show up so I could ask them which direction Checkpoint Charlie was. But after asking a dozen or so people, a party of three came by and we asked them.

The threesome was an elderly gentleman, a young man and a gorgeous woman. When we started to ask in our lousy German, the older man said he spoke English. He then began to tell us how to get back and all involved public transportation of some type which we were not allowed to travel on. And for each mode of transportation he mentioned, I would say, "Can't use it." The first time, he asked me why, and I said, with a smile, "We aren't allowed to use government owned transportation because it supports a government we considered bogus." I guess this guy had gone through this before because he didn't blink an eye, but offered to take us there himself in his automobile. I figured we were safe in traveling that way, and since we had under an hour to go before the clock struck 12, I agreed go in his car.

We went to his house, along with the younger couple, and went inside where we were offered something to drink, which I declined, and where attempts to make small talk were made, which I discourage by asking when he was going to take us to the checkpoint. Finally he said we should go, so we got up and went outside. There, in front of his house was parked his car. In front of his car was also parked three East German green and white police cars and behind his car were another three green and whites of the local police. I began to wonder what was going to happen, but got in the older man's car, along with my friend, and the good looking East German gal and her companion. We then started to move as soon as the police cars started to move. We were getting a police escort to Checkpoint Charlie. I could only imagine what would happen when a small P.O.S. East German car pulled up along the gate at Checkpoint Charlie with six police cars and my friend and I got out and walked back into West Berlin.

Well, it never happened. We got a block away from Checkpoint Charlie and the police cars in front made a right hand turn and headed down a dark street. Now, one thing we were told was to not cross a meter wide white stripe which went around East Berlin, about 50 meters from The Wall. We were told it marked the kill zone. Enter that area, and you are fair game for the armed guards in the watch towers along The Wall. Earlier that day, my friend and I experience the fear the line brought in the face of a young child who accidentally kicked a soccer ball across it. He carefully, and slowly walked across the line, picked up his ball and joined his friends.

Now, were we in a car, surrounded by police, and that line was getting closer and closer in the front window. I was bracing for the bullet impacts the moment we flew across the line. None came. We stopped about 20 feet inside the kill-zone, and got out of the car. I watch the East German policemen get out of their cars and disappear into the shadows around us. When the driver came over to us, I asked where Checkpoint Charlie was. He pointed to a gap between two buildings and said "Right through there." I started to move in that direction when Ernst (that was his first name) began to make small talk. I figured since we weren't dead and since the police still hadn't dragged us off to some gulag somewhere, that he was connected in some way or another with the Stasi.

So with each question he asked, a smart remark of "Can't tell ya." came back from me and my friend. Finally, he said goodbye, pointed us towards the gap and wished us well. I said bye to him and the other two, and then said goodbye to the policemen around us. We then passed through the gap.

Waiting for us on the other side were East German border guards. Their AK-47s were held at their waist and the muzzles were pointed in our direction. I glanced over the barriers which blocked the roadway between the cities and saw we had the attention of the guards on the west side of The Wall. After a few moments, a Soviet officer, a major if I remember correctly, walked towards us. When he arrived, I saluted him sharply and asked him if his goons could let us go back "to the land of the free and the home of McDonalds." He barked something at them, to which they turned and disappeared into the shadows (the East Germans were good at that). He then escorted us to the pedestrian gate and started in with the small talk.

As we arrived at the gate which lead through The Wall and into West Berlin, he asked what we thought of our visit to East Berlin. I offered to tell him all about it at McDonalds (which was right up the road and visible from where we were standing) and even offered to pay for his meal, but wouldn't accept my offer. So, I turned to him and said, "It was fun here, but I will be glad to get back into the good side of The Wall." He nodded slightly, barked something to someone somewhere and a second later, the remote lock on the gate made some noise and it swung open.

My friend and I walked through, then over to the guard shack on the American side of Checkpoint Charlie where we answered a few questions, said we were okay and asked the best way to get to Templehof. Back at the airport, we were bombarded with questions from our fellow editors until the long day finally caught up with all of us and we turned in.

I was happy to be back in West Berlin and away from the oppression of East Berlin. I was also sad I wasn't going to be able to mess with people's minds for a while. But I knew we were going to get a tour of East Berlin and I would get another chance to become an international incident.

But I'll save that for another post in a couple of days.