marichiko |
08-13-2004 05:30 PM |
When I was a kid in the fifties my Dad was stationed in Bad Hershfeld, Germany. It was the closest American Army base to East Germany. I even used to have a certificate from my elementary school that I had attended the closest American school to the Communist border. Back then you could drive to the border and look over fearfully (if you were 6) to THE OTHER SIDE. The border consisted of various watch towers and a plowed strip that seemed about a mile wide to my child's eyes. My Dad sauntered over to the plowed strip in full view of the East German guards and spat on it. I was terrified that we'd be gunned down for my Dad's flagrant show of disgust with the "Iron Curtain." In those days military families in Bad Hershfeld had to keep a suitcase packed and have a plan of escape should the Russians ever overthrow that border. My Mom's plan was to high tail it for Switzerland and talk her way across the Swiss border with her flawless Entlebucher Swiss dialect. I was to remain mute, so my Americanism would not be given away to anybody. My Dad was to stay behind at the base and fight off the evil Russkies. I always figured I'd sneak a way of staying behind with him and we stay on post and fight off the Commies to the last man - kind of like the Alamo. Ah, the good old days!
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