A trip to Berlin - 1988

Co-First Prize Winner in the July/August 2005 travelogue Contest

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Travelogue #3

A trip to Berlin 1988


#1 - The waning days of the Cold War

I was a twenty-year-old Specialist in the U.S. Army stationed in Muenster, Germany in the spring/summer of 1988. Muenster was in what was considered the British zone of occupation. After World War II, Germany was divided into four zones of occupations and Berlin was divided the same way. The American, British, and French zones became West Germany and West Berlin; the Soviet zone became East Germany and East Berlin.

Muenster itself was a good-sized German town with a population of 300,000 at the time. It was about an hour from the Netherlands border. I worked as an “MP” (Military Police) guarding nuclear munitions at a NATO site alongside British soldiers. It was very repetitive, mundane work; definitely not as exciting as it sounds.

As a female in the Army, (at the time) you either got a reputation of being “ate up” (lazy) or a slut. Not very good choices in my opinion. As I was neither, I found I was always trying to prove myself to my male peers and in December 1987, I appeared before a soldier of the quarter board for my battalion and won! Of course I knew I would, but I shocked all the guys by winning. One of my rewards was an opportunity to go to Berlin on the “Berlin Orientation Tour.” I was stunned! No American in Muenster ever had such an honor like this before! I cannot fully capture the excitement I felt at having a rare chance to experience living history. Especially since I was a little of a history buff myself, taking numerous history classes in high school, including “Twentieth Century Europe.”

My trip was scheduled for 7 July – 11 July, which, by now, was in a week’s time. I needed an updated I.D. card, a Class “A” uniform (the green uniform with all my medals – not that I had any, with just two years in service), FLAG orders (traveling orders to process the Soviet checkpoint in East Germany) and leave papers. It was a lot of paperwork, but I got it done in time to go to Bremerhaven where I was going to catch the Berlin Duty Train.

(Author’s note: As I look back at the notes I’ve made and begin to type this entry, I find that there’s a lot of history involved, and while I’m not trying to give a history lesson, it completely fascinated me when I took this trip to Berlin. There are a few funny anecdotes, but I hope you’ll find the history as interesting and as compelling as I did.

I also recreated this travelogue from the pictures I took of this trip, as it has been seventeen years since. Some memories are fuzzy and some descriptions maybe a little lacking and for that I apologize)

#2 – Day 1 – Journey to Bremerhaven

The duty train to Berlin ran from two West German cities to Berlin – Frankfurt to Berlin and Bremerhaven to Berlin. Bremerhaven was on the seacoast of the Nord See (North Sea). There was a bigger American presence than in Muenster and it was arranged for me to take this train since it was closer to Muenster – two hours north – Autobahn speed!

I loved traveling on the German Autobahn. It moved faster than the American freeways, and I must admit I was addicted to the speed.

I took the duty van to Bremerhaven and it left at six in the morning on 7 July. The van was full of Americans who had various appointments –medical, dental, and soldiers who just wanted to go shopping at an American PX. I hung out with the driver for most of the day, my friend, Wendy. Wendy was a “bad” girl and was getting chaptered (kicked out) of the Army. The only thing they trusted her to do were menial jobs, like driving the duty van. We did some shopping at the PX and ate at the Burger Bar for lunch. Soon, it was 4:30 p.m. and she dropped me off at the Bremerhaven Bahnhof (train station) before heading back to Muenster.

“Steph, don’t forget, get me a left-handed beer mug now,” Wendy said from the window, driving off.

I raised my eyebrow. Was there such a thing? A beer mug was a beer mug. Right?

It was early. The duty train wasn’t leaving until 10:00 p.m., so I had a SIX hour wait in front of the Bahnhof in my class “B” uniform! I was wearing a green military dress shirt, minus the jacket, and a green skirt because you had to be in a dress uniform to ride the train. It was comfortable for a warm July day. I bought a wurst and a brotchen from the schnell imbiss outside the station for dinner and sat down at their outdoor table.

I wasn’t as lonely as you might think. It was quiet and peaceful. It’s hard for me to capture the ‘feel’ outside the Bahnhof seventeen years later. I didn’t take any pictures of this part of the trip, so I have nothing to jolt my memory, but I can tell you these six hours were very memorable and two things happened that affected me for many years to come.

1st Memorable Thing

Recently, I was sent a care package from home with several books. One of these books I put into my briefcase thinking it would be good to read should I have any downtime and now was a perfect time. This book was called “QUEEN IN WAITING” by Jean Plaidy and it was about Caroline of Ansbach who was George II’s wife.

This book ENTHRALLED me. Much of the action took place in Germany in towns that I was familiar with. I could easily visualize the German setting and castles. It was easy to read, engrossing, and I could hardly put it down. I became a big fan of Jean Plaidy and her writing style. To this day, I own several of her series about the kings and queens of England. “QUEEN IN WAITING” opened new doors for me in my reading adventures. No, it’s not an important book, there’s nothing particularly special about it, but it is a book I can’t forget.

2nd Memorable Thing

There was an air of mystery about taking the duty train at night. Why? Did the East Germans and Soviets not want us to see the countryside? Were they hiding something? The route we would travel would take us from Bremerhaven to Helmstadt, the West/East border. There we would process our paperwork with the Soviets and travel onto Berlin. Why the mystery?

Berlin in 1988 was living history. The city was divided in much the same manner as the country into occupation zones. A wall split the city in two. No man’s land, a mined wasted piece of land that consisted of dirt several kilometers wide kept West Berlin from East Germany. It was a breeding ground of international espionage.

All this inspired my military action/adventure novel, “DESTINATION: BERLIN”. In 1988, when I returned from Berlin, I wrote a rough draft. In 1997, while stationed in Hungary, I fleshed that draft out. I self-published with Iuniverse, but since, I’ve learned more as a writer and so I’m trying to work on a new edit that is much more marketable and telling. I’m very proud of the plot and story and I hope to have something soon. You can find the opening chapters in my port.

It was while I sat there at the schnell imbiss (snack bar), watching people pass me by, sipping on a coke, a question came to me – what would happen if something went wrong? Out of this, my first serious novel attempt was born.

#3 – Day 2 – Getting In & Going Out

We got to Berlin early and we were met at the Bahnhof by our orientation guides. They took us to Roosevelt Barracks in the heart of the American sector and we each had a place to stay. I changed from my military uniform and put on civilian clothes. Once settled in, we hopped on the bus for a tour and here’s where my pictures pick up the rest of the story.

The bus was a regular western style tour bus with soft seats and wide tinted windows. We drove by a lot of places. Our tour guide, a man, explained that various pieces of architecture dotted West Berlin’s landscape. I have a lot of pictures of them. One looks like an oyster. One looks like Jimmy Carter’s smile and is an orchestra hall. Also in my pictures is a dusty piece of land behind a metal fence. On this were rickety wooden shacks, various items of rusty junk and clothes. There was also a sign that said, “…een abriss nich!”

Our guide explained this was a piece of land owned by East Berlin, which in two days, was going to become West Berlin property. When it did, the Polizei were going to go in and drive the homeless out. I didn’t know what to think. How did a piece of land get transferred like that? Who was right? The East Germans for letting homeless live there or the West Germans for I…don’t know, cleaning up the place? In the black and white, good vs. evil world of the Cold War, suddenly everything seemed gray to me and I had an eerie sense of déjà vu. The clean cut world of the Cold War was about to change. (The Fall of the Wall in 1989 was only a year away)

I also have a picture of the Reichstag building, taken from the bus. The building appeared a dirty brown color, made of stone, but even that wasn’t enough to hide the stateliness of it. It was long, maybe two to three stories tall with four slender columns in the middle signifying its entrance. The rest of the façade had the columns neatly spaced and the ends of the building had two raised, thick turrets. Unfortunately on this trip to Berlin, I wouldn’t get any closer than a picture.

As I understand it, the Reichstag was the German state building, constructed to be the parliament of the German Empire in 1894. It burnt down in 1933 and solidified Hitler’s power at the time. It wasn’t redone until the 1960’s. In 1999, it was reconstructed with a large glass dome in the middle and once again houses the legislature of united Germany.

That evening, when I went to the PX on base, I met an American infantry solder named Duane. (his last name escapes me). We hit it off and went out to a local pub for drinks. Duane was stationed in Berlin. Tall and lean, blonde and blue, Duane was everything I was instantly attracted to in looks. Trust me though – nothing happened, but it was nice to hang out with a cute guy in the evenings.

That night I was introduced to “Berliner Weiss” beer. It was a lager with a little bit of green stuff or red stuff. The green stuff was sour and the red stuff was sweet. Being a chick, I liked the red stuff better. For the rest of my time in Berlin, I usually spent my evenings with Duane. We went out to eat or had drinks and I found myself enjoying his company.


#4 – Day 3 – History in West Berlin

I made two friends on the tour. These ladies were a hoot! They were both stationed in Frankfurt and both were African-American. L.B. (she penned this name – not I! L.B. stood for “Local Bitch”) and D.C. plus me made a very colorful group! L.B. always had something funny to say. D.C. was quieter but very smart too. She had a lovely smile that just lit up her face and I enjoyed talking to her. When we were out on the tour we usually hung out together.

The next day our tour guide took us to see the Soviet War Memorial in West Berlin and we actually had a chance to get out and walk around. We just couldn’t walk too close to that particular monument because there were Soviet guards posted.

The tour guide told us at the end of World War II, the Soviets who were the first to enter the city built a slew of monuments, including this one firmly believing when Berlin was officially divided they would receive the property this monument was built on. To their surprise, it fell in the American sector. The Americans allowed the monument to stand, but it had to be guarded by the Soviets. I believe the guards were actually taken off the monument in 1991 or 1992.

After that, we were off to Brandenburg Gate. In 1988, the Berlin Wall stood tall and proud in front of my West Berlin view. In fact, the West Berlin side of the wall was full of graffiti. Every inch was covered. Even the German warning sign on the wall was covered in spray paint.

Brandenburg Gate was actually a German monument commissioned by the Prussian king Friedrich Wilhelm II and built between 1788-1791, but in 1988, the twelve Greek Doric columns, six on each side were covered in soot and dirt. On top, facing east, was the Quadriga, consisting of the goddess of peace, driving a four-horse chariot in triumph. It was that sad, familiar green copper color indicating it hadn’t been well taken care of over the years. My view also afforded me a glimpse of the radio tower in the Alexander Platz.

A little over a year later, the wall fell and Brandenburg Gate came to symbolize the celebration of that accomplishment. In subsequent trips to Berlin in 1990, 1991, 1992, and 1996, Brandenburg Gate got a through cleaning, restoring it to its previous glory. It was rewarding to me to see the Gate finally have a “happy ending.”

We also visited the bombed out ruins of the Kasier Wilhelm church on the Kurfrustendam – another keen reminder of World War II.

Then we traveled to the Olympic Stadium built for the 1936 games. It had aged well. Round and wide, it was in the American sector. Between the opening towers, the Olympic rings hung as a reminder of the games. If my memory serves, Jesse Owen participated in these games much to Hitler’s distress.

We drove by the Berlin zoo and then it was off to one of Berlin’s most famous places – Checkpoint Charlie.

As the Berlin Wall cut the city in half, graffitti on the western wall protested the divsion. On a part of the wall near the checkpoint in big, bold, white paint was “NYET, NYET SOVIET”. In the background on the east side, was a plain brown five story apartment building with white window trim. It was a very stark contrast (colorful vs non-color) about the oppsosite ways of life that were meshed together in Berlin.

The checkpoint was small and on the top of the shack-like building were painted American, British, and French flags next to big bold letters “ALLIED CHECKPOINT CHARLIE.” Just past the building lay a series of concete barriers and slim red/white pole gates that gave one entry to the east.

We also had a chance to visit the museum. It told of the history and contained several photos of the wall under construction. The favorite way to get out of East Berlin was by car, but several people wouldn’t hestiate to blindly rush the gate. Very few made it.

#5 – Day 3, continued. Close to Potsdam

That afternoon we went to the Nikolsee and our guide took us to where Freedom Bridge literally bridged the gap between West Berlin and Potsdam, and East German city. The bridge was very wide, made of green metal and in the middle, over the road, was an arch that connected the bridge with the East German hammer and sickle marking the actual border. Just passed that were concrete barriers, metal fences, and a heavily fortified guardhouse.

My imagination ran wild as our tour guide told us about how numerous spy exchanges were conducted on that bridge of high ranking officals. In fact, my novel’s closing scene has such an exchange inspired by those real life tales.

The Wansee River was the natural border between the two cities and it was the river that Freedom Bridge spanned. Nearby was a monument to the Prussian kings, built by Berlin’s rulers when this area was still considered Prussia. It was circular, with three foot columns supporting a raised ceiling. You could walk inside, sheltered by the sun on a hot day and take in the beauty of the lake and surrounding forrests.

Disguised by trees growing up to the lake on the Potsdam side was No Man’s Land. It was several kilometers of mined dirt. On the west side was the Berlin Wall, on the Potsdam side an elevated guard tower and metal fence. It truly was a stark reminder of how confided Berlin was as a city.

We did not visit the British or Fench sectors of Berlin. The most famous landmark in the French sector was Templehof Airport and in the British sector, the Spandau citadel that housed the last of Hitler’s top aides who died in 1987, just the year before. I think it was Borman, but I couldn’t say for sure.

# 6 – Day 4 – A trip to East Berlin

The best day of the week for me! We had to get in our Class “B” uniform again, with all our decorations and even our name tag left off our shirt, but we were on our way for a tour of East Berlin! We passed through Checkpoint Charlie early and headed to the main drag, the “Unter Der Linden”.

A boulevard of linden trees was planted from 1647 extending from the electoral palace to the gates of the city by Fredrick Wilhelm I, "The Great Elector", who wanted to ride from his castle to his hunting park, the Tiergarten with more appropriately Baroque splendor. This stretch became the best known and grandest street in Berlin.

It just so happened it was guardmount for the East German guards. They marched down the Unter Der Linden in a neat military fashion. Once stopped, they lined up in ranks. Their unforms were plain. Tall, thick boots rode to their mid-calfs. Their pants and shirts were a dark forest green and they wore a white belt. They were decorated with a light blue lanyard on their right shoulder and wore green steel helments. I was very impressed with their stiff military bearing. We visited the East German tomb of the unknown soldier with the eternal flame. Nearby was Brandenburg Gate. There the Kronprinzenpalais (Crown Prince’s palace) of the Prussian kings, the State Opera house containing the Platz were Hitler had his famous book burning, and the St. Hedwig’s Cathedral, the Cathedral of the Prussian kings. We also visited Alexander Platz which was known for its shopping and I bought two bottle of Russian vodka! (GRIN) I saw the radio tower again and the way the sun reflected light off it looked like a cross. The German’s called it “The Pope’s Revenge.”

For lunch, I walked by myself further down the Unter Der Linden than the rest of my group, checking out the shops and found a quaint little café to eat at. So there I sat, outside on the street, eating my lunch, attracting many stares in my American military uniform. I didn’t feel awkward at all. I was watching them watching me.

That afternoon we went to another Soviet war memorial. This one was ten times more impressive than the one in the west. As I walked on a long upslope, surrounded by dense trees, I could smell the rich woodsy smell of the foilage. At the end of this walk was a statue of a mother bowing down. It symbolized the loses that mother Russia made during the war.

Our group turned right, walked up a fifty-foot slope and stopped dead in our tracks. We all drew a collected breath – even L.B. (not much impressed her) There stood over five mass graves with 1,000 Soviet soldiers buried in each. The graves were wide, I would guess fifty meters by fifty meters. The grass and bushes were neatly trimmed. From the position we were at, we had to look down on the graves. It was designed this way for visitors to pay their respects to the war. On the sides of this spacious monument, were a series of six granite slabs telling the story in carved pictures of Germany’s assault on St. Petersburg. One side was in German, one in Russian. It was a long walk, at least 500 meters past the graves to the other end.

When I finally finished my walk, I came to a hill in back of the last grave. Steps lead up to the top. There was a smaller monument with a Soviet soldier, looking down over the graves. It truly was a well thought out memorial.

#7 – Day #5 - The ride back to West Germany

That night we packed up and got on the train back to Bremerhaven. It left at 10:00 p.m. and got in at six in the morning. Before I left Muenster, my platoon sergeant ASSURED me there would be someone to met me when the train got it. Well, there wasn’t. Typical really. The old saying “out of sight, out of mind” could easily be applied to the atmosphere of the military. I called to my company and waited close to four hours before someone came to pick me up. I stayed in the Burger Bar, reading the daily newspaper and my book. I’m surprised no one came by to kick me out. I had a great trip though. My trip to Berlin was pure delight. It fueled the imagination, allowing me to daydream not only of the past but of magical “what-if” scenarios as well. I was so into my tour and the history of Berlin, I totally forgot to pick up a left-handed beer for Wendy! Trust me, she harassed me for it when I got back.

#8 – Thoughts and Impressions

Berlin has a very rich, living history – and not only of Hitler’s time, not only of War World II, but the history of the Prussian kings came alive as well in the city. Unfortunately though, the royal tale of Berlin was mostly trapped in the East. In the west, there were only a few brief glances (Kaiser Wilhelm church and the sitting booth out near the Wansee River) of Germany’s rich, historical background.

Berlin was always alive. It was a city that never slept. Something was always happening. On Kurfurstendam, the bars stayed open late. In the West, neon signs glowed bright in the dark.

I was very glad to have had an opportunity to visit Berlin before the Fall of the Wall. When the borders were opened, I understood the taste of freedom those oppressed felt and now exalted in. I was thrilled to see Berlin – and Germany for that matter – receive their happy ending. After years of occupation, oppression, and being watched over, the Germans could take back their own country and their history again. Watching Berlin, and the border towns near Fulda, grow and modernize was a pure joy for me, a self-professed history buff and I’m glad I had a little peek into that part of the world – before and after. Probst!