Wilkommen Bei Deutschland!

July, 1988

I had been married for 8 days, and already I was leaving my wife.

I had just finished both my advanced individual training at Goodfellow AFB, in San Angelo, Texas, and also finished another course at the Army's Intelligence Center and School at Fort Huachuca, in southeast Arizona. I was given 14 days' leave (vacation to you civilians), and drove home in my Volkswagen Fox, with no air conditioning, from Arizona to California.

In July.

Bad move.

I went to Sacramento, go married, and then after a brief honeymoon in LA for about4 days, I went to the LA International Airport and got on my flight to Germany. I would be assigned to the 4th Squadron (Air Cavalry) of the 2nd Armored Cavalry Regiment (Toujours Pret!!) (ACR) .My filght would take me to New York, then to Frankfurt, then my final stop to Nuremburg. As I was rather upset that I was leaving my new bride, I was not in a great mood.

When my flight was called, I tearfully (on her part) left my wife, and boarded the plane. Lance, my roommate at Language School and good friend (we had taken our oath together in Oakland 2 years before, and were really good friends - we were even going to be in the same unit together) got on the plane and flew to New York without any problems.

But in New York it starts to get interesting.

Before landing, the flight attendant told us which gates to go to for connecting flights. My roomie and I were told to go to a certain gate for our connecting flight to Frankfurt. We go, wait a couple of hours for the flight, and board. Once seated, I begin to get comfortable when someone says to me, "Excuse me, I think you are in my seat."

"Umm, I do not think so, sir," I reply, and grab my boarding pass.

At this point a flight attendant asks if there is a problem. It turns out that Lance and I were given the wrong flight information, and we had boarded the wrong plane.

Embarrassed and now a little miffed that we had missed our flight, this meant that I could very well be AWOL (Absent WithOut Leave), a punishable offense. This did not improve my mood. So, we got off the plane, and got back on the Jetway to go back into the terminal.

On the Jetway, an employee of the airline (I think it was American, but it is a moot point) rudely asked me what I was doing on the wrong flight. I said to him, "Look, sir, do not yell at me; I was given the wrong information; what are YOU going to do about it?" He calmed down a little and said that I was right, and that we should go to another gate and see what they could do for us. I thanked him, and walked off to the other gate.

At the gate, Lance and I waited in line until it was our turn. When the lady at the gate asked me for my passport, I gave her my Military ID card, as I was traveling on orders (I did not have a passport yet, anyway). She looked at me and said, "In the Military, Sir?" "Umm, yes, Ma'am; Army," I said.

She nodded, and began to work on our flight assignment. As she was working, she said to her co-worker, "We try to take care of our Mililtary customers." I looked at Lance and shrugged my shoulders.

About a minute later, she handed us our tickets and our ID cards back and said, "OK, sir, just go through that door there. It will take you to Business Class; your seats are on the upper deck of the plane (it was a 747). Enjoy your flight."

Shocked, we took our tickets and went through the gate, boarded the plane, and went upstairs. We were greeted by the flight attendants and treated very well. Once seated, the attendant asked us if we would like some champagne. As it had been a very long day, and I was in a pretty foul mood, I accepted.

Many drinks later, the Captain of the plane said that there would be along delay, and that he was sorry. As I was already half in the bag, I could have cared less. The airline had taken care of all of our flights to get us to Nuremburg without us being late, so all was well. Lance was sloshed; he could not have cared less.

After landing in Frankfurt, we hauled ass to our flight to Nuremburg, and got on with a few minuted to spare. I remember sitting next to a British gentleman who was listening to the Beach Boys. I laughed to myself, and he asked me what was funny. I told him that I also loved the Beach Boys, and mentioned that I was from California and that it was ironic that I was sitting next to a European man listening to California Surf music. He too thought that was funny, and we talked for a little longer before I let him go back to his music and I enjoyed looking out the window and getting my first glimpses of Europe.

Landing in Nuremburg, we looked around for anything like a millitary liaison. It was Sunday, early afternoon, and I could not see anything. Lance and I eventually found a sign that was of no help whatsoever. I eventually found a soldier, and showed him my a copy of my orders, and asked him if he knew where the 4/2 ACR was. He did not know anything about the 4th Squadron, but he knew that HQ of the 2nd ACR was at Merrill Barracks. He did not know how I could get there, and that he was sorry.

But, as I am a pretty smart guy, I had a plan.

Before leaving for Germany, I had exchanged some of my money for some German Deutschmarks, "just in case." So, I hailed a cab, and had him take us to Merrill Barracks.

About a half an hour later, he drops Lance and me off at the main gate at Merrill Barracks. I get out of the cab, pay him (and ask for the receipt so I could claim it on my Travel Voucher), and walk up to the gate. I show the gate guard my order as well as my ID card (Lance is with me, doing the same thing), and ask him about 4th Squadron. He says to us, "Sorry, dude, 4th Squadon is out at Feucht (pronounced foickht). You will need to take a cab out there."

I say to him, "Wrong, DUDE, but you are going to get me either the Sergeant of the Guard or the Officer of the Day, right now. We are tired, hungrry, and not in the mood."

Taken aback, he says, "OK, wait right here."

"No problem, take your time, but get them. Preferably the officer of the day."

He goes into the guard shack, and makes a phone call. In the meantime, the other guard comes out and starts talking to us. I am looking around the area, enjoying the scenery, and we begin to talk about small talk. How the unit is (2 ACR does a lot of field time, and tells us about the border camps and life in the Regiment in general).

After a few minutes, a van comes up, and an officer and a sergeant get out. As we are not in uniform, Lance and I do not salute, but we do recognize him as a officer and call him Sir. We show him our orders, and he tells us that he will take us to 4th Squadron. "Welcome to the 2nd Armored Cav, guys."

"Thank you, Sir," I say.

We get in the van, and we drive for what seemed like 20 minutes, from the heart of beautiful Nremburg out to the airfield. It is located in the suburb of Feucht, which is German for "damp".

We go through the gate, and he drops us off at the door for the Charge of Quarters. We go in, show him our orders, and he takes us up to the Officer of the Day for 4th Squadron. There, we sign in and he gets us our room keys and makes sure we have sheets, pillows, and blankets for our bunks. The Officer of the Day then asks us if we have eaten. As soon as he said that, I suddenly became starving. We had not eaten since the fight from New York, several hours earlier. It was now late afternoon of the second day. We said no, and he told us that the chow hall was closed, but if we wanted, he could have the CQ take us somewhere. We accepted, and got in the van, where we had our first taste of Eurpoean cusine.

We went to McDonald's.

I ordered my usual, 3 Cheeseburgers, a 6 piece McNugget, large Fries (Pommes Frites), and a large Coke. As we ate, we talked to the Sergeant about the Squadron. He said that it was a good unit, and that if we were on flight status we would definitely get our fair share of flight time (he was grossly underestimating that one).

After eating, we went back to the unit and went to our rooms. I unpacked some of my gear and got my uniform ready for the next workday.

After shining my boots, I passed out on my bunk... but not before calling my new wife and telling her all about my flight.