The rush hour would always be a little tense, many high ranking officers coming through the gate, --it really didnt bother me, but a lot of the other security police it did bother: matter-of-fact now that I think of it, that is why SFC Flattery our platoon sergeant never was around at that particular time, in the early part of the morning.
The pain of drinking the evening before simply slows one down in the morningfor a few hours anyway, but wed always get our focus back, and mine was coming.
I tried to pay close attention to the incoming cars, they liked it when you caught their eyes the drivers eyes, and then they knew all was well. I could give them a ticket if they overlooked a signal. And they and Iboth of us, wanted to offer the other as little distraction as possible, they were going to work, and I was working. I suppose Ski knew this, and that is why he said very little, he could play catch-up with me later.
Sometimes Id get so drunk the night b efore Id be too lame to work the next day, and had to pay someone to take my shift. And end up taking an evening shift for them at another time, it would tie me up from other plans somewhat, but thats the way things work I guess. I had a ten-hour shift today. Matter-of-fact I have it all week. But I will get three days off straight, with no bed check, thereafter. No more bed checksthank God.
The cars now were starting to weed out, so I lit a cigarette, shivering a little from the light breeze passing by, the March wind was very cool. Conversations were far and in-between at this gate, it was the main gate, and not like the other one at the other end of this somewhat, large, military compound: there you could talk a lot with passersby.
I liked the cobblestone streets left over from World War One [WWI throughout Reese Kasarine [military complex. My motor functions were improving now, -- my eyes seemed wider becoming sober.
٭
It was turning o ut to be a fine day; the temperature seemed to be just right with a light luke-warm-breeze making an interesting morning of comfort; over to the far northern corner beyond the gate there was an empty lot along the side by the flag pole where a huge rock rested, it had an inscription that read In memory of the Battle of Chickamauga, someone told me it was some great Civil War battle, a bloody one at that. Ill have to check that out some day, I told myself. I found for myselfoften times, starring at that rock, day after day, it was strange seeing it way on the other side of the Atlantic, you know, the battle was way over in America, not here I think in Virginia, 1861.
The only thing I didnt like about this morning shift was I had to raise the flag. Not that it was a lot of work, but if you dropped it, it could be grounds for military madness. And I didnt care to rock the boat. Plus I was starting to like Germany with its many festivals; it seemed like there was on e going on all the time in this vicinity, and straightforward, there was one going on this very minute across the street, up the block from the compound. Or it will be this afternoon. It wasnt real big, but it had a huge beer tent, as they called it here, and that is all I really cared about, or for what it is worth, what most GIs cared about. All these fairs had huge beer tents, every one of them.
You could see kids, mothers, and fathers all wearing their Robin Hood looking hats; some were dressed in old German style pants and dresses, --yes, a good assortment of people were there. I liked it if not for the beer, for the home life it brought back into my memories, my body. It just felt good. It had been active going on two weeks and it would last one more week, I had been there three times, I figured Id go there one more time: perhaps this coming weekendpossibly.
As I took my lunch break in the larger part of the guardhouse which was a part of the barracks ad jacent to the city street, and to the side of the gate way to the facilitywhere a window was, I did my paperwork looking out of both windows watching German made cars drive bynot like back home where you would see a variety of cars like Fords, Dodges, Chevys, etc there was not a great verity here to witness; I also checked out the side window were my partner waved the cars on throughthen back to my paperwork, and checking and marking the documentation on my inspection sheets, and insuring they were in order, insuring I marked the trucks, and other vehicles I had inspected in the morning in the proper places, --very seldom did I ever find any contraband, and for today, there really was nothing out of the ordinary to report. There was a stand up metal ashtray by the side window, I sat down turned the radio off and sharpened my pencil and filled in with check marks in the proper boxes indicating no unusual traffic, and had a cigarette.
I was starting to think about Chris , I felt she was somewhat drawn into my emotional charms and frankness, I think that is all men are needed for nowadays anyways: emotional support. It seems they work, make money just like us men; to be blunt, she was doing better than me.
She seemed to be genuine for the most part. She was a German-Jew, she had told me, and her father was killed just prior to the Nazis deserting and escaping the occupation of their so-called Motherland, of World War Two [WWII. I guess a number of SS menHitlers Elite that is, --came into her fathers study room [library, he was some kind of professor, and her mother grabbed her as she was a child then in 1945, I guess she was only a year old at the time, and the SS Germans took him: --that was the last they had ever heard from, or of him. Chris had told me her mother and she hid behind a sofa chair and he tried to draw them away from them, and I guess he did.
He was never seen of again, as I have just mentioned, and I guess her mother took her to London, England, until after the war when they returned and reclaimed their property. She was a little careful about letting me know she was a Jew, not sure why, I guess being brought up in Minnesota, I never thought much of nationalities as a barrier. She was watching my response now that I think of it. And she got it out quick. I was worried if shed want to go back out with a private, as much as she was worried if Id want to go out with a Jew. I suppose her being more educated than I at first glance made me pull back a little, but that was past.
Remember you got a few more hours left on your station, PFC Evens, said Sergeant First Class Flattery.
Yaw sergeant, just thinking about a gal I met, Chris.
Well you get your head back into the paperwork, and eat, you still got a little time yet before youre off duty. Right?
Right.
Wellah, how was she
Chris.
If thats her name
Yes, yes. Thats her, something special , I think, --not used to dating in a while.
Ah! Have I got to tell you?
No sar-g I said soothingly its great.
The Sergeant walked outside, he most likely was going home, he lived off base with his family; he was a nice sort of guy, a little slow at times, he made E-7 [SFC, which is a good rank, yet some of the other sergeants made fun of him, but he had more class than they. It took him 18 years to make his rank though, I guess normally it should take only about 10 to 12-years; he was about to retire in a year and a half he had told us at the guardhouse. He took everything with a calmness I never knew, something Id like to inherit I told myself many times, I was always anxious it seemed, almost hyperventilating to get to the next step one might say.
Chris had told me on the way home last night she was interested in me, on one hand, but I think she wanted her cake and eat it to, for she was going with another man, a German she said, and had to let me know it was for money reasons, he paid her rent, some rich cat. I wanted to say forget it, and just go on with life, but I pretended it was no big thing. I had nothing to lose, plus I really did not have anything going for me here anyhow. And somewhere along the line, we could deal with that issue if it came up later, if she intended to develop any kind of ongoing relationship with me beyond a sexual-friendship. ☺
It was 4:45 PM, Chris drove up by the gate door, as I walked outside with my uniform on, she leaned over with the window open, Ant men funny, she chuckled at me, or was it herself, she had a nice looking green Mustang, it shinned as the sun bounced off her hood.
Fifteen minutes early, I said.
I know, she replied, I wanted to see you in your uniform, you look gooddelicious!
Come please, I need to talk to you
There was a tear in the side of her eye, not sure what it was for.
Wait a minute.
Joe, I said, my corporal f riend who was on duty next, can you take the shift now, I sense Chris is in a little despair?
Surego.
I quickly dressed into civilian cloths and rushed out to see Chris, got into her car asking, Whats the trouble? She drove off quickly and parked over by where she was a manager of a pizza caf/guesthouse, which were several blocks west of the base.
I called London, I lost $50,000 dollars, last night, the dollar went down and the mark went up. I had my life savings in it. I was up early this morning and been calling to see if it would go back up, but no luck.
Wow sorry, ----$50,000! I really didnt know how to go about comforting her, I never heard of such an amount of money. I felt she was putting me on, but the tears were real enough. I was not sure how to console a woman with such griefmoney grief, it almost looked as if it was a death in the family; she leaned over and just hugged me. I couldnt say a wordI was frozen with stupidity.
She then s aid:
Lets skip it, Ill be alright, getting her breath back.
Fraziers going to fight some guy by the name of Ellis, I commented, to create a new tone in the dialogue.
Chris looked at me strange, I think she got a message I was not able to digest that amount of money she was talking about, but it sounded impressive she knew that. Maybe that was what consoled her if anything. It took me another minute to know what had happened, and several more to believe it.
Whos Frazier? she asked.
Just a boxer, I heard it on the radio today. Hes a pretty tough one though, like Clay.
I guess one might say I seemed a littleif not a lotindifferent to her situation, her nerves seemed to settle down though, and the silence of the moment seemed to suggest the spell of grief was broken.
Maybe all she needed to do was tell someone, not sure why it wasnt that other boyfriend of hers, but I didnt bring it up, no need to, if she was trying to impress with what ever technique, the route and problem to its summit was stopped. If it was true, I looked dumb to it I suppose, and that may have had a good effect also. I often think people who are dumb are cleaver, they got to be, or they are dead. Maybe that is how she thought I was.
I am not very old, but in my little life span Ive noticed one deep rooted thing, and that is a man or a woman can stop most any bad habit, like smoking, or drinking or gambling, you know, those kinds of thingseven picking your ass, if need be can be stopped, but, and this is a bigBUT, try and stop, or tell someone to stop getting married, or having an ongoing relationship, dating, --they will tell you where to go, and go find another person to have the relationship with. I learned at a young age, I was very replaceable with women, and the prettier they are, the quicker they can replace you.
I knew the moment was gone, still not sure what to say though, then taking meticulous care I increased my voice, I managed to get a final [a little humiliation, Im sorry I cant help you, Im not sure what to say, $50,000 dollars is a lot of money. Im sorry for your loss.
She sensed I did not feel qualified to go beyond that. She would have preferred to leave it alone but felt there was emptiness still in sight.
To repeat a sentence she had first made, she added, Its simply been a bad day, nothing I can do about it.
Unexpectedly a tense face appeared on her, and a tear rolled down her cheek again, as if it could almost reach and touch my shoulder.
Im a German-Jew, did you know that? She told me as if I didnt know she had already told me last night.
Yaw, I know that Chris adding, not sure what that means, Im an American-Russian, with a little Irish in me, she tried to hold a laugh back, but it came out anyway--☻
Somehow the dark cloud that was developing disappeared. And a rose color came to her bronze face, with a light laugh still ooz ing out of her.
Where are we going? I asked.
Thought I take you for a drive through town, and on to the cemetery, my grandmother is buried there and I want to visit her.
Sure, lets go, I said, as she started her car back up.
As she drove I started noticing all the Volkswagens running through town, and the lights that hung on wires instead of poles like back home in St. Paul, Minnesota; I also noticed the towering clock in town, and the old police station, the Stadtwerke, with its soaring antique architecture.
Look over to the left, commented Chris, the Rathaus, it was once the biggest City Hall in all of Europe. It was built in 1620 AD.
I nodded my head and my eyebrows went up as if to be impressed: --but I had seen it before, not really knowing what the nine story structure was other than a big building that looked hundreds of years old, and the beautiful water fountain across the street from it. I had sat on its outer rim with a few of my GI buddies.
Augsburg was a military camp I had learned, in the year 15 BC, built by the Emperor Augustus. Funny, it still was today, that is a military city but with American soldiers. When I had first arrived in Augsburg during a briefing at the train station, this was brought out. It was a beautiful city, and old. I had always hoped to come to such an ancient place, with culture, and historical significance; and here I was, a wish come true.
7
The Potato Fields
The Cemetery
We seemed in the process of leaving the city limits, and no sooner had we left, Chris pulled the car over to the side of the street, looking at some potato fields, said:
Well, shall we go visit the people?
She started walking towards a tower.
By the way, I said, who are the people?
I was following behind her as she got out of the car and started walking into the semi-wet, somewhat dusty and lumpy fields of dirt, then she said:
I like it her e, yes, I think, I really think she hesitated, the sky is so blue, its not going to rain: -- these are potato pickers Chick
I looked about and noticed several women picking or planting potatoes, perhaps both, it all looked strange to me, why were we here? I asked myself, but it was as comforting as it was strange. It told me she had a simple and commonplace side to her like me. We stood in the middle of the field for a minute or two, silent. There was something about this woman that I found very sympathetic. Ever since she had told me she was a Jew, and the tragedy of her family, I had taken an interest in her a little more or so it seemed, -- her openness was fresh. Yet I found we had a great bond growing, something common yet I couldnt name it, and not sure why I felt this way, she had been through more than me, yet I suspect it was spring to, you know, timing can play a big part in any event; I said to me, my impulsiveness that is, hay me, far from being excite d about being on a second date I dealt with her bad news. I added, hay me, I am proud. It told me I was growing.
Whats the tower for? I asked.
It was like an observation tower in the middle of the potato fields. Older women were picking and planting the potatoes all around usmore than I had notice before anyway, Chris explained the towers,
they are for the boss to see what is going on in his field, lets climb up one.
See Dennis' web site: http://dennissiluk.tripod.com
Author:: Dennis Siluk
Keywords:: Chapter Story
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