In The Days I Was An Adventurer

By

B.D. Adams

            Dear Reader ... This winter has been a very different winter for New Hampshire. It’s the beginning of April and we haven’t experienced a lot of snow ... which has been a blessing. Lake Winnipesaukee is already back to a lake and not just for ice fishing!

            When we had our most recent bout of snow, which seems to soothe in the cold months, I was reminded of Germany. Plus, Bill, the poet, co-author, for the Blog, has encouraged me to share my oversea’s adventures. He did not have to twist my arm too badly!  It’s been quite a while since I’ve been there, but my memories are still fresh! Well, as fresh as my 62 year old brain would allow.

The Lakes Region in New Hampshire has reminded me of where we lived in Germany ... in the Rheinland-Pfalz ... the Rhein River Valley (very near the French border). Forests and decent hills ... the beginnins of the Schwarzwald (Black Forest). Germany is located mostly in the same north latitude as Canada. Since I was there through a few winters, I understood why most of the Europeans were so hearty ... as well as the Canadians!

The images on the left of this page show actual pictures of Zweibrücken on a postcard from there. Unfortunately, my photographic ability (or computer ability) was not as proficient as the postcard for the arrangement of other photos. I will bow to other media when necessary.

            This is a real life story. It begins ....

We were in Columbus OH, where my husband had worked for the Federal

Government with HUD (Housing and Urban Development) when we were first married. He had worked there for over a year and so wanted a change. I knew he had put in his paperwork to transfer to a different government position ... any other job in accounting.

Little did I know that one location he specified was for Europe ... Germany! I was very surprised when he got the call from the American Army Post in Zweibrücken, West Germany!! The town’s name means “Two Bridges,” in English.

            When he told me of this offer to go to Germany, all I asked was “When do we leave?” I was ready for an adventure! Not knowing what Germany (or Europe) was like exactly, I could only imagine what our lives would be like there.

Unfortunately, I rather got the impression that my husband wasn’t all that keen on moving across “The Pond.” In any event, we made our plans to move overseas (at government expense)!! I had always wanted to visit Europe ... never once thought the opportunity to live there would ever be a possibility!

My father had served in the Army during WW2 in Austria. He had told me a few stories about Austria and Germany (he drove a tank), which fascinated my young imagination! I was so excited to see some of what my father had told me!

The plane ride was eight hours long ... from Fort Dix, in New Jersey, to Frankfurt, West Germany. We had a brief stopover at Heathrow, England. We were met by and chauffeured to Zweibrücken by my husband’s new boss. When we got to the hotel, we all just crashed until the next morning.

My family and I (my son was from a previous marriage and about six years old) resided in West Germany from 1983 to 1987. We were there for as long as my husband could stand it (he was definitely an American). We were there when the country was still

divided. Also, the dollar was very strong and many Deutsch Marks could be exchanged
for those dollars to buy sturdy German furniture and clothing and do some traveling.

With his new position, my husband was a civilian employee with the American Army Post as an accountant at the Kreuzberg Kaserne (Cross-Hill Barracks) where a few hundred soldiers, along with soldiers and their families, were housed. It was a support Post, mostly to protect the Air Base on the southern hill in Zweibrücken.

Because my husband was a civilian, we had to reside in the German town, as was the case for the other civilian employees, and not in Post Housing. Actually, I was very glad about that. We were lucky because I was able to find a better than adequate apartment not far from the middle of town (walking distance) and easy access to the Post (a military bus ride until we bought our car).

            Zweibrücken is a large town, by European standards. The town seemed to cater to the “visitors” (Americans) for all kinds of shopping and restaurants! However, not totally.

There were Deutscher leute (German people) and some French civilian employees on the Post, but because it was an American Post, only English was spoken. In the town, however, everything was in German ... not like it is now in the US with English and Spanish. The Germans would try their hand at English, as long as an American would try the same for German.

The town was nearly bombed off the earth during WW2. It was rebuilt, but please remember, when we were there, it was only forty years since the end of WW2. Much renovation was still underway! The main structures left standing after Zweibrücken was bombed were the Gothic protestant church, built in 1493 ... Alexander Kirche (church) ... and the Schloss (castle), built in the 1700s (possibly by Duke Charles II). It was not used as a ducal castle any more ... all the dukes had died off ... and it is now part of their court system, with government offices. The Castle is still kept in good stance, including the minor grounds.

After WW2, the American Army Post went up on the northern hill and the southern hill housed the American Air Base, in connection with the Royal Canadian Air Force. The Germans still operated a very small Kaserne (barracks) between the two hills in the valley.

The only hooplahs we ever heard about, other than the drunken parties on the weekends (Germans or Americans), were when the American soldiers over-stepped their boundaries with the Fräuleins ... or decided to test their new BMW in town and not on the Autobahn (no speed limit ... just courtesy). Die Deutsche Polizei (Police) were not a group you’d want to test ... their cars had souped-up Porsche engines and as good stunt-drivers as in Hollywood. Other than items like that, the Germans, Americans, Canadians and the French got along famously, or so it seemed!

I had never learned any German in the USA, other than Gesundheit, when someone sneezed. And then, I learned that that word was not a religious blessing or a wish for good luck (Glück), like many Americans had insisted. Without a doubt, it is a German word with an every day definition. It is the word for “health” (Ich habe eine gute Gesundheit – I have good health). Maybe, in a way, good luck is being wished to someone for good health, but not literally.

When I returned to the USA, I was at a party where an adamant fellow insisted that I was incorrect. He insisted the word meant “God bless” and that was all! It did not mean “health!” Well, I just smiled and figured some bigger bloke than I, at some time, would set him straight ... probably a hefty German fellow in lederhosen (leather pants) would do the honors!

I had studied French in High School and did very well, but no German. I had gotten some tapes from the library back in Columbus to try to learn some German, and even bought a pocket Berlitz language dictionary for English/German before we moved there.

However, while we were still in the hotel, before our furniture arrived by ship, we knew we needed a much better language dictionary.

On a Saturday, my family and I trekked to the Fussgängerzone (an open air

shopping area by foot, minimum auto access) to find a Buchladen (a bookstore) for a better English/German dictionary.

            Because of the necessity, I had learned a few important words to keep from getting my face slapped or encourage more than nasty looks! I so hoped the French I knew would be of use. Since Zweibrücken was so near the French border, I thought there could be multi-lingual folks in Zweibrücken. I learned a new lesson ... the French and Germans were still not fond of each other ... kind of like the Rebels and the Yankees in the States. It was German or nothing ... nichts! They knew some English, but I knew even less German. What confusion!

            After we went to a couple of stores to do some shopping, we walked into a very nice bookstore ... nicely arranged, decorative and well lighted! I had out my Berlitz English/ German dictionary to search for the “reference” area. My search was for Wörterbuch (word book) in German. I couldn’t find the darned section! Now I began to feel like my husband did, somewhat, with the doubts of moving there.

            An older, very well dressed, well groomed gentleman approached ... he looked like he belonged in London ... his mustache was waxed into handlebars. I was impressed. He asked something in German of my husband, who immediately pointed to me. He came to me and spoke German and I showed him the word in the Berlitz book. He handed me a dictionary in German.

            “Sprechen Sie Englisch, bitte (please)?” I asked of him, just to see if he spoke English. That was the first real phrase I learned, once there.

            He shook his head, so I just kept browsing the shelves.

            After a brief moment, the man stood close to me and asked very quietly, “Parlez-vous Francais?”

            “Oui!” I responded with joy. I had to be honest, so I confessed, “Un peu et pas si vite, s’il vous plaît.” (Yes ... a little and do not speak too fast, please.) I gave him a wink and a nice smile ... didn’t want the clerk to think I was fluent. I mean, it had been over 15 years since I sat in a French class! We had been in Germany for almost three months with little if any understanding of language other than English.

            The store clerk was delighted, as well. He understood that he could not just take

off in a tear in French. He did tell me that he was French and had married to a German woman from Zweibrücken. I was so happy that the two years of sitting in French class were not in vain!

            I told him that we needed a better English/German book. He guided me along a different wall of books and     handed me what would become my personal bible for German!

            “Merci beaucoup, monsieur!” I thanked. We bought a couple of magazines and a

small book for my son, Jacob, about “Babar” ... in German, of course. I still have and
use my green PONS English/German dictionary!

Once our furniture arrived and the move was completed, our regular European lives began. I was able to learn German ... not fluently, but enough to converse with my neighbors and others in town. With this new life experience, I was like a kid in a candy store! So much history ... so much to learn!

Our address was Wolfsloch Strasse 61. They put their street numbers after the street name and the Zip Code went in front of the town’s name. That was their way. The mailman (Briefträger) would deliver everyone’s mail to their doors (unless you lived in one of the few high-rise apartment buildings). We were on the second floor and he had a key to get into the three story house to deliver our mail to our doors. Kind of different compared to most places in the United States.

Each resident (which included the landlady) was responsible, in turn, to keep the common entrance and stairwell (first floor to the third) cleaned ... not just swept, but mopped, as well. Germans were very neat people ... where we lived, that is. Even the sidewalks and the streets were cleaned by the area’s residents. However, our landlord wouldn’t allow us to do any street cleaning. I think it was because we were Americans.

Our Vermieter (landlord) was very nice to us. My son, Jacob, and Herr Muhlhausen’s little son, Thio (Tee-o), played together quite often. Jacob was a little older (in the 2^nd grade – American school on the Air Base) than Thio, so Jacob would “babysit” (watch) Thio as they played in the backyard, from time to time. Frau and Herr Muhlhausen were pleased.

My husband, my son and I would do our version of Volksmarchen (hikes) in the countryside. As long as you didn’t damage crops or do anything nasty, the farmers didn’t mind when hikers marched through their fields or the forests. We usually stayed to the forests.

There was a lot to be learned by these hikes. We saw the blown up concrete remainders of the Siegfried Line in the wooded areas.

The Siegfried Line, which ran the full length of Germany on the Western Border with France, which included the western border of Zweibrücken ... was one of the reasons why Zweibrücken was so heavily bombed! The Line was heavily damaged during the 1944 battles, as the Americans and British pushed into Germany. The Line had been in place since the First World War, and then from 1938 to 1940, Hitler had work done to renovate that fortification. Once the D-Day invasion surged to the east, into Germany, large or small concrete bunkers were blown up to make them totally useless for the rest of the war! A few bunkers were kept in tact and used by the Allies.

I had hiked with my German friends and was fascinated by this war history that they told me! The pieces of the blown up concrete bunkers were allowed to remain in their places, not as reminders to the horror of war, but to become refuges for wildlife and plant life ... kind of like dry land reefs.

Amazing how cultures look so differently at the world around them!

 I learned a decent amount of the German language. Believe it or not, I began to dream in German! Talk about confused dreams!  Along with the language, I lived in a very different culture compared to the US. Don’t take me wrong, it was a wunderbar (wonderful) experience, however, I still believe the United States is the greatest there is! The only way you can truly understand my meaning is to experience other peoples and cultures to appreciate what you have!

This is a brief rendition of my first encounters in Europe! I plan to share more in the future!