Germany, a bit of info
West Berlin – I was there the first time when it was a divided city and the part controlled by the Allies was hopping. It was a fun city then, I imagine it’s quite something now and I’d love to go.
East Berlin – I did make a trip to East Berlin when it was referred to as the Russian Sector. I traveled through checkpoint Alpha, Bravo and Charle into the East. The trip through East Germany at the time was surreal I should say. The group I was with stopped at the checkpoint and handed our paperwork to the Russian Border Guards. They went in to their building with our liaison for perhaps an hour as we all waited in our car. At no point did we get out of the car as we were instructed to remain in the vehicle at all times. So, after they inspected our documents and car we headed off into the enemy’s territory. Not surprisingly the landscape was completely cleared of vegetation on both sides of the road for what appeared to be 50 yards, perhaps more. Aside from the landscape there were no other cars or activity I can remember along the entire route. We approached checkpoint Bravo and underwent the same process, hand over documents, they were inspected and we were off into the free area. I should mention that all the Russian Guards that were in a position to be seen by the Allies were at least six feet tall, interesting, eh?
So, we drove to our rooms, checked in, received another brief outlining where we can go and what we can do and off we went. I immediately loved the place, it was alive with activity and I wandered around as much as I could squeeze in for the duration of the trip.
Did I mention I went through Check Point Charlie? That process was quite interesting all by itself. Again, we handed our paperwork to the guards, waited for the stamps and we proceeded forward. Now, at that time you didn’t just drive into East Berlin. There were posts driven into the ground forcing the vehicles to sort of snake their way back and forth to the other side. This was intended to prevent the East Germans from finding their way into West Berlin. The Russians characterized it as a mechanism to prevent the Evil West from capturing an East German and taking him into the west.
Anyhow, the trip to East Berlin was a time I’ll not soon forget. In case you were never there the two halves of the city were completely different as you can imagine. The west was colorful, vibrant, full of life and activity. The east was gray, subdued and no one seemed happy at all, a stark contrast to the west. I made my wan into a department store and even though the Russians had stocked it with goods to create a facade of prosperity is still paled in comparison to malls in the west. And, there weren’t many people in there at all. As I browsed the store I still remember a couple standing at the jewelry counter. They were there for engagement rings and although the clerk and couple were speaking German I understood what they were asking. The clerk seemed indifferent but the couple were clearly in love with each other. The clerk reached under the counter and unceremoniously plopped a small cardboard box filled with small rings in front of them. They reached in and looked at each ring as if they were priceless which I found sort of amazing. Despite the conditions that existed in the east they were oblivious to it and were totally engrossed in selecting the perfect ring.
Well I didn’t locate anything interesting to purchase so I made my way out into the city and looked through the stores. I was told before departure not to purchase everything in sight as it was bad press for us so I followed the rules. I did end up purchasing a small tent and some Russian Vodka which was plentiful as you can probably surmise. Everything was incredibly cheap as I learned. I exchanged some Wast German Marks for East German Marks and found myself with a serious wad of currency which I was unable to spend.
In case I forget to mention it the east German side of the city was gray and drab, lifeless, colorless. The buildings were all prefab concrete structures with no personality at all, it was like something out of a George Orwell novel. The people all had glum looks on their faces as if going through the motion of life, like a trapped animal that has reconciled itself to the fact that this is all there will every be so why bother trying to change things.
Later in the day I went to an expensive Russian restaurant and orders a steak dinner with caviar, dessert and a drink. The food was actually quite good probably as it was intended to maintain the illusion of prosperity. In any event, after I finished I still had an enormous amount of East German marks remaining. So, I pulled out a few bills for souvenirs and handed the waiter what remained. I got the impression it was far beyond what he earned and was happy to have it. It was basically useless outside of the east and I was happy to give it to someone who could put it to good use.
Oh, I forgot to mention we has to place a guard at the door of our bus due to the fact that it was not uncommon for East German women to toss their babies into the bus in an attempt to seek asylum. Turns out the bus was considered American property, sort of like an embassy and anything on it was automatically under the control of the Americans. The people were so desperate to get out they would do whatever necessary to at least get one member of the family out. More on this later.
At the time, no trip to Berlin was complete without a trip to the Checkpoint Charlie Museum. This was quite an interesting place, filled with stories and artifacts from escape attempts (from the East I should add). The sewers as you can imagine ran the entire city and when people realized this they would crawl down into them and make their way to the west. That is, until the Russians realized this and put iron bars in them to prevent such escapes. I remember reading about a guy who stole one part of a car from where he worked over the course of several years, gas as well. Once he had the whole thing built he apparently started a good distance from the checkpoint, gained speed and crashed the gate into the west. Well, the police in West Berlin had to stop him as he was unaware he was about to crash through the gate on the opposite side back into the East. He was stopped in time thankfully and as far as I know remained in the West. He probably would have been tortured or killed had he returned.
Another guy did the same thing but with an ultralight of sorts or perhaps it was a small plane. In any event he stole parts until he has built the thing and was able to gain enough altitude to clear the wall into West Berlin. These two guys are a testament to perseverance.
The museum was filled with stories such as these with some dreams of escape fulfilled and others crushed. The wall it turns out was designed to be higher than an olympic high jumper could reach with a rounded top so it couldn’t be breached on foot. On the East German side were guard towers distributed around the entire perimeter, guns facing the west. There was raked sand perhaps 50 meters or so on the inside probably to better track escape attempts. I was told of one individual who was on the west side tormenting the east guards and was near a door but unaware of this. An East German guard opened the door quickly and drug him into the east. I’m not sure if he ever made it out but it makes for an interesting story. I walked part of the wall and noticed the Guards pointing their gun at me when I passed by a place in the wall where I could be seen, the apparently meant business. The border area was tense, especially for the East Germans it seems.
Oh, I also hopped on the subway while there as I’d never been on one let alone in a dispute area of the world. I was having fun getting on and off at various parts of the city, not paying particular attention or at least not close enough. At one point the train was underway and a guy beside me asked if I was American. I told him yes and he indicated if I didn’t get off at the upcoming stop I would be a political prisoner as the stop after that was in East Berlin. Ah, the kindness of strangers.
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