The troop ship SS Washington had thrown off
the moorings and began to slip slowly away from the dock at the Brooklyn Navy Yard.
I stood at the stern and contemplated where I would land if I took a
flying leap. Yes, I’m really on my way
to Germany ! No turning back now. For better or worse I had committed to a two
year contract with Army Special Services, and the Washington , loaded with 1000 women and children
would take me there.
It was the middle of May, 1952, and we were headed for Bremerhaven , Germany , and thence to all parts of
the American Occupied Zone. Nineteen of
the 1000 on board were, like me, Special Service girls. Once in Nurnberg we would be assigned to Army
Service clubs throughout Bavaria ,
which pretty much covered the entire American Zone of occupation. In 1952 the peace treaty had not yet been
finalized and Germany was
split four ways with the Russians occupying the Eastern zone, the British the
Northern, France the Western and the US the Southern.
The crossing was unusually rough, and before we reached England forty
foot waves kept most of us in our bunks, stacked three high, and I had a middle
bunk. In the dining room, if one was able to brave it, our food trays
would slide about a foot as the ship rocked (unless one was careful to hold on
to it). Stabilizers that hold modern
ships steady in storms were not available in the Washington .
One dependent lady went into labor with the ship’s roughness, and a
helicopter from England
was able to hover over the ship and hoist her aboard. The next day we were in Southampton , England .
The chaplain who had prevailed upon the Special Service
girls for help in entertaining and supervising the many children aboard
rewarded some of us by escorting us ashore, although the Captain had announced
that no one was to leave the ship. We
had tea at a tearoom, did some window shopping and even visited a department
store. (Here I first learned that to Europeans what we call the first floor is
the ground floor, and the first floor is what we called the 2nd) Next day the ship docked at Bremerhaven .
How did I happen to go there?
I first learned about Army Special Service in California . I went there in June, 1950 to visit my sister
Grace and her husband, Harvey Testa. I worked
three months at the Ensign Carburetor Factory, assisting in the
Engineering and Time Study department.
Then I was hired to teach sixth grade at Centennial
Middle School , in Norwalk .
I lived with Grace and Harvey and when they moved into a new house in Downey , I found
transportation with a fellow teacher for the five mile ride to school. On Saturdays I enrolled in a graduate class
at USC, and took buses and trolleys to attend.
One day recruiters were there taking applications for Army Special Service.
I submitted to an interview, and they
had me on the word “travel”.
I returned home to Alabama
at the end of the school year, but soon after had a letter offering me a tour of duty in Japan . When I discussed it with my parents they were
horrified. I decided at the last minute
not to go, and got a job teaching Physical Education at Gadsden, AlabamaJunior
High.for the coming year. Not that I knew that until the first day of
classes: I was interviewed and hired by the Gadsden Superintendent to teach English and
Social Studies (my majors) but someone with more pull than I switched the
assignments. So now I, who had been
excused from college gym classes until my Junior year because of a heart
murmur, then pronounced by my doctor ‘fit’at age 19, I had to take two years of
P.E. classes in the last three semesters of college.
At the Junior High I had every class doing 15 minutes of
calisthenics, and if I stopped, they stopped.
Also, my girls played championship softball, and were so fiercely
competitive that all I needed to do was stand and watch. On rainy days we joined the boys, and the
male P.E. teacher was a great square dance caller, so we square danced. I walked a mile each way to school, and with
all that exercise and activity at the end of the year I had lost inches, but
not pounds. I was in the best physical
condition of my life, and when the Army sent a letter in April offering me Germany , I
decided to go. Mama said I had the
‘itchiest’ feet of any girl she ever saw, and Papa said, “Kate, there are
5,000,000 single women in Germany . You’ll never get a husband!” (But Mama also
said she would not sleep a wink while I was gone.)
After a thorough physical exam, lots of shots, and two weeks
training at Fort Benjamin
Harrison in Indiana
we had a free week-end.. At that time
Johnny was stationed in Rantoul ,
Illinois , just across the state
line. I called him to see if we could
get together, and he immediately invited me over. He explained that his girl friend, Betty
Brown, lived in Danville
near by, and she would be happy to have me stay with her. So I hopped on a bus, and pretty soon was
met by Johnny and Betty. Except for the
fact that she seemed to talk baby talk to Johnny I liked her very much. She was a tall slim blond. Her mother, a widow, was exceptionally nice,
and I could tell that she liked Johnny. (They were married before I got back to
the states) We had a lovely weekend, except for one thing: I lost my billfold! It didn’t have a lot of money in it but it
had my shot record. When I got back to
the base I had to repeat all those shots, and the smallpox vaccination which
didn’t take the first, did now, and I had a very sore arm for the crossing.
We had been issued uniforms in Indiana: 2 two piece suits (blue, no brass, plain buttons)
, a cap (one always wears the cap when outside), a trench coat in olive drab,
and we had also been instructed to buy two or more plain white shirts, with
reversible collar. Also to buy low or medium heel closed toe oxfords or pumps
(navy blue), and to bring one or two evening dresses. Before boarding the train in uniform our sleeve
patches had to be attached (to suits, trench coat and to caps) An Army bus met
our train in New York and took us a to the Henry Hudson Hotel, and I was
assigned to a room with Virginia Uncovic We had two days of sight-seeing in New
York which included a tour through China Town, and all the major Manhattan
sights. That night we went to the Copocabana
Night Club, where Lena Horn was the featured
vocalist. (I think it was Cab Calloway’s band) It was a brief, but lovely visit
to the big town, then it was time we boarded the SS Washington.
We were finally here!
We boarded a train in Bremerhaven , and
then changed trains in the middle of the night in Cologne , battling the language barrier for
the first time. (We were told to go to the “J” car, but the conductor
pronounced it ‘yuh’ and it took a while
to figure out what letter of the alphabet
that was..
By morning we were
checking in to the Grand Hotel in Nurnberg
before being rushed off for orientation.
We met the Col. In charge of Special Services, and the
‘higher-up’ civilian employees at the Palace
of Justice , where just months earlier
the Nurnberg War Trials were held. We even sat in that courtroom. Afterward an American civilian man rushed up
to me, saying, “Ruby, It’s so good to see you…let’s get together” Now that was
the worst pick-up line ever, because no one ever called me “Ruby”. (We talked later. He was from Salisbury , N.C. ,
buyer for the local PX, and was able to special-order shoes for me in size 91/2
AAA, but I can’t remember his name)
My bunk mate Virginia Uncovic was sent to Schwabish Gmund in
the Black Forest . Eleanor Holman went to Augsburg, Jeanne
Ebbighausen went to Wurzburg and I was assigned to the Americana Service Club,
right in downtown Nurnberg, across from the Grand Hotel. I was billeted at “Girls Town ”
the female quarters for all American civilian workers. The address was
Dreisehnprizregentenuferstrasse. (13
Prince Regent Street ). It was just a short trolley ride to the club,
and the Grand Hotel where we took most of our meals.
First Holiday , first
mountain trip
After orientation on Thursday we were to
report to our assigned clubs, but Memorial
Day weekend was upon us, and we had until Monday to start work. So Jeanie, Ellie and I decided to take an
over-night sleeper to Bertresgarden. (Their clubs were in the Nurnberg
area) Train travel was still free, but
the Pullman berth cost a dollar. We stopped in Munich
and visited the Hof-Brau House, then traveled on into the Alps . Our hotel was on a lake surrounded by
mountains, and the high-light of the trip was taking a cog train up to the
Eagle’s Nest, Hitler’s hideout. The
final assent is by elevator whose path had been hewn through solid rock. Himmler’s home is also on the mountain
top. The view was astounding. What a fantastic first weekend in Germany ! I returned there with the family group in
’77, and it had not changed. (It was in Bertresgaden that we learned that Elvis
Presley had died)
The Americana Club was in a building which
was actually a part of the walled city, with one of the four old-town towers
across the street, the train station across form that. With most of Nurnberg
lying in ruins, these structures, and St Marta’s Kirk next door, were only
slightly damaged. The four towers, it
was said, stood because they were not put together with cement, but just stones
fitting together. The center of Nurnberg was
practically leveled. Whole blocks were nothing but rubble. Women and a few men were already working at
cleaning and stacking brick which could be salvaged from the bomb sites. Seven years after the fighting stopped, Germany was
only beginning reconstruction. Churches
were gutted, and some leveled. It still
looked like a war zone. It was said that
the intense bombing was to destroy ball bearing factories which were located
there. Returning there in 1976 with
Cathy, two sisters and two nieces it was surprising for me to see how well the
town had been rebuilt, using the same style, probably the same material, so
that one could hardly tell which was new.
The German Mark was exchanged at the rate of 4.2 to the
dollar, so goods on the German economy were cheap to us. (The dollar today is
worth .73 cents to the Euro, which Germany now uses). The German language I learned mostly had to
do with trade, dining, and travel. Wie
Fiel meant ‘how much? Mach snell meant
‘hurry’. Wo ist der zug nach
(city)___? Meant ‘Where is the train to
___? And all the ‘w’s’ were pronounced
as “v”.
I wish I had learned more of the language.
As Junior member of the six-woman team at the Americana Club, I was
assigned duties no one else wanted at the beginning. I was to be travel director, tour guide,
monthly report writer, and at the same time join with all the other girls in
calling bingo, checking out pool equipment, joining in card games, setting up
tournaments of various kinds, pouring coffee and serving doughnuts. With one other girl I was in charge of
reviewing and scheduling floor shows for our once a month Big Show. For half a day we sat and watched act after
act of dancers, acrobats, dish spinners, singers, comedians and magicians. They
each had a going rate, and we had a budgeted amount of money to spend, so we
had to choose what we liked and could afford.
In order to conduct
the Saturday Walking Tour of the city I had to learn my way around town: a
little of the city’s history and what happened to it in the war, (Most of the
bombing on Nurnberg happened on one night, January 25, 1944, and was prompted
by its being the center of Germany’s ball bearing industry- and unfortunately
many of the old town’s churches and land-marks were also hit) the castle, the Albrecht
Durer House, the city museum, (with its many medieval torture devices) the home
of the brothers Grimm. Those were the
main points of interest within the walled city. Those plus a few statues here and there that
had escaped bombing. Usually I had about
a dozen G.I.’s following me around. As
travel director I was in charge of keeping a shelf full of travel pamphlets
available for G.I.’s going on leave. It
was mostly a lot of fun. I didn’t even
mind doing the monthly program reports, and Peggy, the club Director, said I
made it sound so good she wished she had been there! (She was, of course)
Special Service
Colonel Todd was a man much detested by some, but he was from Alabama , and he liked me. As integration of the Armed Forces was just
getting under way he came to the club one day to ask Betty
Province (from Chattanooga ) and me if we were going to be
all right with it! One of the other
Recreational Specialists was black. She
was Mildred Jackson from Jacksonville ,
Florida , and one of very few
people I knew who had a car. I humiliated
myself one hot day that summer, when I came into the office and said. “Whew!
It’s so hot! I’m sweating like a nigger at election”. I looked up and saw
Jackie and both of us sat with our mouth’s open for a minute. Then she started
to laugh, and I apologized. It was a
phrase I had heard all my life, but most inappropriate and thoughtless of
me. Jackie became a stalwart friend.
The staff consisted of Peggy, Director (MN), Jackie, Ass’t
Dir.(FL) and four Program Directors: Betty(TN) Shirley (CN), Fran (VA) and
me(AL). We also had two German Secretaries,
Margo and Ilsa Hyde, who was married to a nere-do-well American who was
supposed to be an Artist. (I never saw any of his work) Her father was a
Doctor.
The club also had a six-piece band, which
played American music several nights a week. We sometimes had celebrity
performers who graced us with their presence: I had the ‘honor ‘of calling
Eddie Fisher to the phone. It was a
little bit cheap of me to say, “Is there a Cpl. Fisher in the house?” The soldiers often brought their German
girl-friends there to dance. On Friday
nights we had square dancing and western music party. There was a library in conjunction with our
club, and Jeanie the Librarian was a friend, but she was not part of our
staff. A Chaplain held services in the
library on Sundays, and sometimes other days.
Mostly I attended services at the church next door, St. Marta’s Kirk
which was the main Protestant service. (Chaplain Olson there happened to be
Episcopalian.)
Weekends and holidays were our busiest times, and we were
expected to work through holidays, but those days could be taken as
compensatory time in conjunction with our regular two days off each week, so if
you had two Compensatory days you could take a four day holiday, which we often
did, without taking annual leave. Betty Province was off to Italy, and when she
returned she brought me an appliquéd shawl, and a leather book cover. Most of the girls who had been there several months, or even years, had already
traveled throughout Europe . I didn’t make a list: I wanted to go
everywhere! It was possible to go to Berlin , but special
permission was required because one
traveled through the Russian Zone.
I jumped at the chance when Virginia called and asked me to accompany
her on a journey.
My first big trip was to Belgium . Virginia Uncovic, my ship mate, invited me to
go with her and two friends, one of whom had a car. No gas stations peppered the highways, so her
trunk had to be filled with jerry cans of gasoline, enough for the whole
trip. It didn’t leave space for suitcases,
so we traveled very light. The trip took
us through Luxembourg ,
through the city of Aaken , (a famous battle
field) and on to Brussels . It was a beautiful city, not nearly as
damaged as most of the German cities. We
were impressed with the lighted highway around Brussels , so bright that we were asked to
turn off the car lights, even at night! We had time for one museum, in Antwerp , but it had to be a short four-day trip, so we
were back to work soon. (Virginia was the first
of the nineteen girls I went over with to get married. She was wed before Christmas!)
Assignment switches were common and pretty soon Gloria
Enokian joined our club roster. Gloria
was Armenian, Orthodox Catholic, already of dark complexion, she was constantly
sunbathing. She lived on yogurt, nuts
and fruit, she was quite beautiful, and became one of my very best
friends. She was from Fresno , CA. and had been a social worker.
(Most of the Special Service girls had been either teachers or social workers)
Gloria lived across the hall from me in Girl’s Town. She was the most sought-after girl in the
club, but rarely dated.
After Labor Day I again was able to take off for four days,
but there was no one available to go with me.
I couldn’t wait to go to Switzerland ,
so I decided to just go alone. From the
railway station in Zurich
I was able to find a Bed and Breakfast nearby.
I took a tour, visited a few churches, bought chocolate, and had dinner
alone in a squeaky clean restaurant, alone. I did a lot of window shopping, strolled
by the lake, took pictures, and had a fairly enjoyable time, but not as much
fun as it would have been with a companion.
When I got to the train station I tried out my small amount of German
and said, “Woe ist der zug nach Nurnberg ?” The stationmaster evidently understood me,
and answered, “Bahnstag sepsehn” (17) but I thought he said “bahnstag sexsehn”
(16) and that was the train I boarded.
A really cute American G.I. sat across from me, and when he
was ready to get off the train in Stuttgart ,
he tried to persuade me to get off and he would take me out to dinner. Oh, no, I couldn’t do that, so I stayed on
the train, reading a book, until several hours later the train stopped, and a
cleaning crew came through the car.
“Vas ist los? “ The kind gentleman took me by the hand and
led me to a map. We were in a northern
German town called Lauda. No trains to Nurnberg on the schedule, but with hand motions, lots of
jabbering I finally understood that I could get a train to Wurzberg, and that
was in the right direction.
In Wurzberg, late at night, there was at least an RTO
(Railway Transportation Office) operated by the army. The sergeant there informed me there were no
more trains to Nurnberg tonight. There were no
hotels available because of a wine-makers convention, but he made a few calls,
put me in a jeep and took me to the nearest army base, where I spent the rest
of the night in the VIP quarters. Lucky
for me there were no visiting Generals that night. In the morning I was able to continue on to Nurnberg .
In October Jean Ebbighausen contacted me because she wanted
someone to go with her to Paris ! Everyone wanted to get to Paris, especially
me. I had to take some annual leave for
this trip, but of course I wanted to go, and was so happy to be able to arrange
the time off.
Before I went to Zurich
I bought a Zeis Icon camera, which took great pictures. I couldn’t wait to photograph Paris . We made reservations at the Hotel Palais
d’Orsey, and got our tickets. We would
be traveling on the Orient Express! It
travels from Paris to Istanbul and has a stop in Nurnberg . I found that I loved traveling by train, and
it wasn’t too difficult to take pictures out the window. There were few stops, because this was an
express train, and we arrived in Paris
at the Gare de Nord. We knew little
about the metro trains, so we took a cab to our hotel. We could not have been happier. The room was o.k., but the view was
spectacular. We were in a corner room, with windows on two sides. Out one
window we could see the Eiffel
Tower , and out the other,
far in the distance, we saw SecurCour, a beautiful white church on a hill in
the Montmarte district. We were in a fantastic location. With four full days in Paris , we savored every minute.
We couldn’t wait to go to the Louvre, and set out by
foot. Then we decided to be brave and
try a bus. We had a map book, and were
following it closely. When the bus
arrived I was trailing behind
Jeanie waiting to board, then noticed that one had to board in the rear. I called to her, but she didn’t hear me, and
the bus took off with me on it, and Jeanie running like crazy trying to
follow. It crossed the Seine River ,
and I got off at the next stop, retraced our route and met Jeanie in tears on
the river bridge. She was so unnerved we
had to stop at an outdoor cafe and regroup.
We decided to wait until the next day for the museum, and continued
walking, recognizing landmark places as we went. There was The Red Mill, (Moulon Rouge)there
were artists painting on sidewalks everywhere, and pretty soon we were at that
beautiful white church on the hill, Secur Coeur. We watched a wedding party come out, pose for
pictures and drive away in a carriage. A
whole group, four or five, young men came out of the church speaking English,
so somehow we were able to stop them for conversation. Unfortunately they were all on their way to Rome , priests in
training! (But there was nothing about their attire to give that away).
What was I thinking? I had come out on this trek in heels! Not
very high heels, just low heel pumps, but this was a situation that
called for athletic shoes, and my feet were killing me. We had walked about five miles, but at least
we were able to figure out the map for the metro (train) to get back where we started. I don’t remember dinner, but we slept well
that night.
Since the Eiffel
Tower was closer we set
out for it the next day, stopping along the way to admire the sights. Certain ladies on the boulevard had their
hair dyed in strange pastel colors. Many
of them were leading poodles, with their coats dyed to match ! We saw the Bastille, Concorde place, the Arch
of Triumph and by lunch we were at the Eiffel Tower . We took the elevator up, but Jeanie was
afraid of heights, and hugged the wall.
On the second level up there is a restaurant, and how cool would it be
to eat there? We did, but were quite
indignant that the waiter didn’t bring our salad… until we were just ready to
pay the bill and go. Who knew that the
French eat salad AFTER the main course?
The view from the Eiffel
Tower is
spectacular. It was a clear October day,
and many trees were changing color. It
was a wonderful time to be in Paris .
That night we decided to live it up and take a night club
tour. It included Foleys Begere, with a
lot of high kicking girls danced topless, then another club where the show was
even a little more risqué, with adagio dancers.
We felt that we had become the height of sophistication! But we still hadn’t seen the Louvre.
We made it. Next day
we got an early start and visited the most talked about museum in the world,
the Louvre. There was room after room of
famous paintings. One could follow the
development of art through the centuries.
The two things I remember best are the Mona Lisa, with her enigmatic
smile, and the sculpture , Winged Victory, (with a missing arm)
We saw more of Paris on a bus
tour, which took us all the way out to Versailles ,
several miles from Paris .
The grounds of Versailles
are vast, well manicured and spectacular.
Inside we could image Marie Antoinette and Louis staging their many
costume balls and lavish dinners. Most
impressive was the Hall of Mirrors, where the peace treaty of the first world
war was signed.
I really can’t remember where we got them, but everywhere we
went we found stickers with the name of the city or country, and plastered them
on our suitcases. Even a battered old
suitcase got admiring glances if it was
covered with exotic names. Mine was
getting there. By the time I returned
stateside it was covered.
Seventh Army Headquarters was in Stuttgart , and the Seventh Army Band was
famous among the troops. Whenever there was a parade or some important
army function they were there to play.
Such was the case several times that summer, and somewhere along the
line a clean-cut young soldier came up the stairs into the club, and yelled
out, “Where is Catherine Tankersley?”. I
was there, and so indicated. He opened
his arms and yelled “Cousin!” His name
was Jim Tankersley and he was from Illinois ,
and he played French Horn in the Seventh Army Band.. Each time thereafter when they came to
Nurnberg he asked me to go out with him, but there was always a reason why I
couldn’t, until late October, when he appeared again, and I agreed to have
dinner with him.
We went to a restaurant called The Flying Dutchman, and were
served an excellent meal, with wine accompaniment. A band played, and although the dance floor
was pretty crowded, mostly with US soldiers and German girls, but a sprinkling
of Americans and quite a few German couples.
It was a rather large place. When
the check came Jim squirmed a bit,
looked sheepish, and said, “I guess they don’t take (American) Script, do
they?” Well, of course they didn’t It
was a German restaurant/ nightclub. I
hesitated a moment, then said. “I think I have twenty Marks or so”. So of course he ‘borrowed’ it, saying he
would pay me back tomorrow.
And of course this is where another story comes in:
It was there, at the restaurant 'Fliegender Hollander'- the
flying Dutchman, that George Cinnamon and another Lieutenant went for dinner on
Halloween night, 1952. They had just
spent six weeks in the field on maneuvers. The two spent much of their evening
trying to decide whether a certain young lady, with a corporal from the 7th
Army Band, was American or German. When they exited the restaurant and found
the corporal and his date unsuccessfully trying to get a taxi, and offered
their assistance, they found out.
Part 2
THE YEAR I SPENT IN GERMANY
It was the very next day after my somewhat aborted
date with “cousin” Jim –whom I never saw again - that George Cinnamon showed up
at the Americana
Service Club. He explained that he was
Executive Officer of the 70th Armored Field Division, and their day room was
completely out of ping-pong balls: could
we possibly supply, or at least loan them?
And although several girls were
working that day, he singled me out for the request. How did he know I would be working? I have no
idea, but it was my job to find him ping-pong balls, and as it was time for my
break, I walked out with him.
He inquired
whether I got in safely before curfew last night, etc…By the way, he
said, his friend Archie was taking my friend Betty Provence to a football game
at Soldier’s Field, and would I like to come along on a double date? That sounded safe enough so I said yes.
Our army had renamed the stadium Soldiers Field, but
to the Germans it was the parade ground where Hitler came to make his important
political speeches. Now all the
swastikas were removed ,goal posts installed and the field marked off for
football.
When the evening was over and Betty and I were back
in girl’s town, she asked me if I had enjoyed the evening and what I thought of
George Cinnamon. It had been great fun,
with constant jokes and laughter, and I said, facetiously, “I liked him: I think I’ll marry him!
Indeed there were lots of dinner dates and outings,
and even a foursome trip to Garmisch with Archie and Jeanie the librarian (she
also was a good friend, and she had a car.)
The guys called her “Jeanie with the light brown Taunus”. Although I had been to the mountains before,
neither Jeanie nor I had been to this area, and with snow covering everything
it was lovely. We went into the mountains to ski: my first and only time on skis, and I
quickly found out my ankles wouldn’t take much of it. Meanwhile the guys were off on a different
course, having a great time. The
mountain top had one restaurant, but by the time we went in to eat their only
entrée was Macaroni and Cheese, but it was the best I have ever eaten!
Not too long afterward we all planned a trip to Vienna , but the 70th was
on field exercises again, and three lieutenants delegated me to get travelers
checks for them . It resulted in me
having to sign them and dole out their money when they requested in Vienna .
What a beautiful town. Right away we saw jeeps
traveling around with four flags, and four M.P. –one from each of the four
occupying countries. Whereas Germany
was divided in to four zones, Austria
was occupied jointly by the four nations.
We all took a
guided tour, saw the Hapsburg castle, the Vienna
Woods, with memorials and tombs of several composers. On Saturday night George asked me if I would
like to go to the Stats Opera if we could get tickets. He talked to his hotel concierge, who seemed
quite excited that he was able, at the last minute, to get the tickets for
us. We presented them at the box office
and were handed over to a guide to escort us to our balcony seats. When we
entered a private box we noticed quite a lot of attention coming our way: We
were in the Royal Box! (If no statesman
had requested it, it was sold at the last minute) What we enjoyed was The Gypsy Baron, a Strauss Operetta.
On Sunday we all congregated in the lobby for
another excursion, this time to a nearby church to hear a concert by the Vienna Choir Boys. Later we boarded a train for our return to Nurnberg , our group filling a compartment. A few miles outside Vienna
the train stopped and a whole company of Russian Soldiers boarded, heading for the
Russian zone, where they would guard their border with the U.S. Army
district. I was carrying a Time
Magazine, which had Stalin on the cover (he had died)). That attracted their
attention and they kept their noses to the class enclosure of our compartment,
making us all very nervous. I hid my
camera above the seats, because I had taken some pictures of them loading; but
in Nurnberg I forgot about it. No more Zeiss-Icon.
Christmas was upon us, and we were working overtime. On Christmas Eve, after the club closed at
ten, George was there to take me to a Christmas party at the home of Colonel Boone, whose daughter Dani was a
friend of mine, but she was also engaged to George’s roommate. It had snowed earlier, and then cleared, so
that a full moon made the countryside almost like daytime. Several people I knew were there,
including Chaplain Olson, pastor of St
Marta’s Kirk which we both attended.
When we returned to girlstown and sat a few minutes in the parlor, George
brought out two gifts for me. One was a
bottle of perfume, Nuit de Noel, and the other was a Royal Copenhagen figurine of mother and child. I was overwhelmed, and embarrassed that I had
nothing for him. We sat and talked for a
hour or more, about his family, about my family, about our faith, our hopes for
the future… the serious stuff. He even
allowed that it was his hope that our futures would be together, but first he
had to explain that he planned to try to get into the Air Force. Lateral transfers were not allowed, so he
would have to take a discharge and then enlist in the Air Force. Sooo O.K, I got it. This wasn’t going anywhere after all, not
right away, anyhow. So we came to a
mutual agreement that we’d stop seeing each other regularly, and see how things
worked out ‘down the road’.
Next morning he called me early, waking me up to
say, “You know what we talked about last night?
Forget it, and have dinner with me tonight. After that
he was ready to call it an engagement, but I insisted on a “think about
it” period. (What if he changed his mind again?)
From January 7th to the beginning of Lent Germany celebrates Fasching….continual party time. People will celebrate in costume at various
carnival community events and individual parties. Carnival parades abound, it
is literally the weekend for people to live it up. Perhaps they ignored Fasching
during wartime, but by 1953 the partying was in full swing. GI’s took to the tradition. From the Thursday
before lent through Monday (Rosenmontag) the partying is continuous, and
feasting seemed to always involve a roast pig with an apple in its mouth!
George saw an ad for a seven day tour in Algeria , flying from Bern
Switzerland ,
and we both decided to take leave a join it. We took a train overnight to Bern , where the rest of the group met at a hotel, then we
all went by bus across the border to Mulhouse , France to get our Air France flight. In the airport there were congregated many
French soldiers returning from unsuccessful fighting in Viet Nam !
My flight experience at that time was quite limited,
but I had never been on a plane that put linen napkins on the tray table, and
served two kinds of wine for dinner!. In
Algiers I
shared a hotel room with another Special Service girl, but George and I did all
our sight-seeing together. A twelve year
old boy with some English adopted us right away, he said in order to keep us
safe from the pan-handlers. Anyhow, we followed
him to the Marketplace in Old Algiers
(as the song says),where I bought a silver bracelet, to tour the Pasteur
Institute, and to see a few other landmarks.
Next day we loaded a tour bus to go across the Atlas
mountains into the Sahara , to an Oasis called
BouSaada. We stopped in the mountains at a place called the Monkey Jungle, the
guide gave a strange whistle and all at once we were encircled by monkeys
swinging downs from rocks and trees all around us. It was a bit frightening.
The tour was made up of American GI’s and Special
Service girls, and three Belgians. The
guide spoke French with no problem, and would talk to them ten minutes in
French, then turn to us and say,” It’s a mosque” or something almost as
abbreviated to explain where we were. But
we were quite content to enjoy the views, and in Bou Saada the group was
divided between two hotels, Americans in one, Belgians in the other. An unusual cold snap had hit the desert, and
the hotel’s only heating system was an open brazier in the lobby. Along with a few natives, we hugged it. Getting fed there was an experience, and we
never really knew what we were eating, but no one got sick. A trip to a mosque/school, a visit to a small
store, and an evening devoted to belly-dancers for entertainment were the main
attractions. After the show was over and
a man came around asking for more money to see them dance in the nude, we
departed, with my roommate saying she was sick!
One day George and I decided to venture on a camel ride. Which was quite
an experience, with the camel almost throwing me off as he arose from his kneeling
position?
We got back to Bern
with barely enough money between all of us to get hotel rooms and breakfast,
before getting the train back to Nurnberg .
(After we collected our combined monies George approached the lady manager
showed her what we had, and asked what she could do for us. She was most accommodating)
I was sent on temporary duty to Schwabach, an army
base maybe twenty miles from Nurnberg,
and accessible by train. It was a
smaller club, with only three Special Service personnel. The three of us lived in a house, took turns
with cooking, with the help of a German maid who did our shopping, and a little
man who kept out stoves stocked with coal and did the maintenance. (I hardly
got used to his coming into my bedroom to stoke the fire very morning) while I
was still in bed) Mostly we ate out – but Schwabach had few restaurants. My colleagues there were friendly, but I
never got to know them as well as the ones at the Americana
in Nurnberg . On my days off I always returned
to Nurnberg , where my room in Girlstown was
still reserved for me. On one of those
trips I joined Gloria and Jackie for an excursion to Coburg . Luckily, Jackie had a Chevy, so we
didn’t have to take the train.
We toured Coburg
Castle , which was the family home of Victoria ’s Prince
Albert . One
room in the castle was called the Luther Zimmer (room). It was where Martin Luther spent a year in
exile after he tacked up his message on the church door, which started the
Reformation. He did most of his writing
in that room during his year there.
We also toured the factory which made Hummel dolls,
and my love affair with Hummel began. If
any figurine came out with a flaw it was broken, discarded. Evidently the nun
who drew the Hummel figures was a native there.
We also went to the border, the place that marked
the separation of the American and Russian
Zones. A fifty yard no-man’s-land
separated the two, with guards huts and guards always in attendants.
George came up to Schwabach one day when I least
expected, and brought an engagement ring!
Before he left Oklahoma City he and his mom were downtown window
shopping after a movie, and in a jewelry store he pointed ot a set of rings:
“That’s what I want to buy for my bride”, he reminded his mother in a letter,
and asked her to buy them and send them to him.
This time I accepted.
His roommate Tony Harrelson and Dani Boone were
getting married on Valentine’s day, and
we were both to be attendants. It
was a beautiful ceremony, with bridesmaids in long blue velvet Elizabethan style
gowns, carrying a white muff with a red rose pinned on it. (I returned to the same dressmaker for my
wedding gown a little later). Their reception was in Stein Castle ,
a real fairytale wedding.
Word spread quickly of our engagement, and George’s
intention to return to the states and join the Air Force. A hastily arranged bridal shower with my
friends, and all the Nurnberg Special Service teem it seemed, brought more
gifts than I had any right to expect, most of them lingerie. After a couple of
glasses of champagne one of the girls confided that her roommate had said why
was that cute Lieutenant Cinnamon marrying such a mousy girl! But since all my friends thought that was
hilarious, I didn’t take offense.
Getting married was not much of a problem when a
G.I. married a German girls, but when two Americans wanted to marry, it was a
different story. Birth certificates,
permission of commanding officers, letters of character reference from three
Chaplains… then George had to hand carry it all to Seventh Army Headquarters
for permission. Even so, we were required to be married by the German Tax
collector before we could have a church wedding.
I invited all my friends, George invited his
Battalion friends, and we engaged St
Marta’s Church for the ceremony. Eleanor Holman was my one attendant, Lt.
Trefrey was best man. Chaplain Olson
performed the ceremony.
I had told my friends I didn’t see how we could have
a reception, because I had only one hundred dollars to spend on it. Gloria Enochian said leave it to her. She arranged to have it at George’s BOQ, with
his company cook volunteering to make the wedding cake, and she arranged for
linens, flowers, all the trimmings. (The beautiful three layered cake was
delivered in a two ton army truck). George wanted to be responsible for my
flowers, and when they arrived there were FOUR DOZEN yellow roses! Gloria came to my rescue again, trimmed them
down to a manageable bouquet with enough left over for table decorations at the
reception. Rehearsal was quite simple,
with the Chaplain leading me down the aisle, followed by Ellie, to meet George
and Tref at the altar.
But when I entered the church it was crammed full of
people! Most of them were German, and
elderly ladies on the front pews looked to be crying! Boy, I thought, Germans sure like a
wedding! It was twenty years later that
a friend from those days visited in Florida
and said, “I really remember your wedding well.
It was the day they found and unexploded bomb across the street from the
church, closed down all businesses and everyone took refuge in the church!”
We were taking a train to Garmisch for a honeymoon,
but just before we were to leave for the station someone slipped handcuffs on
George and the best man, telling us he was going with us. At he station someone presented the key, t
the nervous guys seemed not to be able to work them. Finally the Col stepped in and calmly released my
husband!
Since George had been stationed at Fusen, a camp
near Garmisch, he knew the country well, and we visited Oberrammergau (where
the Passion play is presented every ten years)and other historic sites. On one excursion we came upon an artist hard
at work painting the zugspitz, Germany ’s
highest mountain, which we viewed also from our hotel room. We followed him back to his studio and George
bought me two paintings forTake care, wedding gifts.
Back in Nurnberg we could not apply for base housing
because George never knew when his request for release would come through, so
we lived at the Grand Hotel, then for the last month in Germany we were sent to
Baden Baden to await our turn for a flight home. Just before our June flight I found out I was
pregnant!
Our return flight was aboard a Northwest Airline
plane, a prop driven plane, which landed in Shannon Ireland, Rekjavik Iceland , somewhere in Maine ,
then New York .
The flight took twenty-four hours. After
each fuel stop we had a new crew and
each time we were served breakfast. The
plane was crammed with returning service families, and we seemed to be the only
couple with no children. Needless to
say, the air was constantly filled with the crying children.
Three days in New York ,
with George traveling to Ft Dix , New Jersey with separation papers, and then we boarded a
train for Alabama .
My family welcomed George (Donald and Jo made a big display of being hicks to
begin with) I stayed a few extra days after George left for Oklahoma to find us an apartment and look
for a temporary job.
This
last part may need some editing, but here it
is……..
Love to all.