Showing posts with label Koblenz. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Koblenz. Show all posts

25 August 2021

German News Clips About My Father

 

[In “Home Alone, Part 2” (posted on Rick On Theater on 15 June 2015), part of a three-part posting of letters my father wrote my mother from Germany in 1962, I included translations of two local newspaper articles about Dad’s arrival in Koblenz when he took up his post as director of the Amerika Haus there.  My mother joined him in October, but he spent September alone getting started with his job and seeing that their house was ready for occupancy.

[I explained my dad’s position in the U.S. Foreign Service in “An American Teen in Germany, Part 1,” posted on ROT on 9 March 2013 (Rick On Theater: An American Teen in Germany, Part 1).  To reiterate briefly, the Amerika Haus (the plural is Amerika Häuser; its official designation was U.S. Information Center, but we habitually called it by its colloquial German name), a facility with a library and auditorium/meeting hall for concerts, readings, lectures, receptions, and performances.

[Dad’s agency was the United States Information Agency (USIA), known abroad as the U.S. Information Service (USIS), the cultural propaganda—officially called “public diplomacy”—arm of the U.S. Foreign Service. 

[The two local papers, the Rhein-Post and the Rhein-Zeitung, ran profiles of my dad, the new Information Center Director (the official job title), and he sent them home to Mom with one of the letters.  I translated the articles and posted them with the transcribed correspondence.

[When I helped my mother move to a new apartment in 2013, I went through a box of odds and ends saved from the decades up till then—going back in many instances to the years before my parents even met, including their childhoods. 

[That’s where the Koblenz letters had been stashed—but also in the cache of memorabilia were three more clippings from German papers with other articles on my father or his job from the years he was posted in Koblenz (1962-65).  I’ve been looking for an opportunity to translate and post them as well.

[The 1962 articles were both about the same thing: the reporting for duty of the only U.S. civilian official in the region.  (There was a small detachment of army signal corps soldiers and two liaison officers, one from the army and one from the air force, attached to the German III Corps, which was based in Koblenz.)  The articles below are each different; my dad was a figure of local news interest! 

[The three articles report on several of the many aspects of Dad’s work as Information Center Director.  We’ll hear about his commenting on American history and politics, hosting a performance by American artists, and presenting a prominent U.S. official giving a talk on U.S. economic policy—all, of course, for local German audiences.

[One article, for instance, came out the weekend after our Independence Day (Jahrestag der Unabhängigkeit; literally, the ‘Anniversary day of independence’).  The Fourth of July was an official event for my father while he was in Koblenz; he hosted a reception at the Amerika House for the Koblenzers whom he was meant to cultivate as the focus of his job. 

[A few words about the translations below: Though I will be as accurate and precise as I can be, I want to make the English renderings as reader-friendly as possible.  Toward that end, I’ll take the liberty of occasionally translating freely.  German can come out stiff and formal if rendered literally.  I’ll also use American standard punctuation rather than follow the German practices in the articles.

[I also don’t want to interrupt the flow of the reports, so when there are things I think need explanation or comment, I’ll save them for an afterword following each translation.]

Rhein-Zeitung [Koblenz] Saturday/Sunday, 6/7 July 1963: “187 Years USA: The Words were also followed by Deeds.”

Reception at the Amerika Haus — Warm Bond with the Community

The day before yesterday, the 187th anniversary of the independence of the United States of America was celebrated.  In Berlin with a military parade and gun salutes at the Airlift Monument, in Koblenz a more civilian, but just as cordial connection with the German people.  Once again, quite a large number of their representatives accepted the invitation to the Amerika Haus.  For the first time, the members of the Amerika Haus Association could also be welcomed.

The Director of the Amerika Haus, E. M. K*****, said in his brief commemorative speech that 187 years ago, the U.S. Declaration of Independence triggered a permanent revolution.  It continues to this day.  But the mere proclamation of a number of principles does not guarantee that they would actually be implemented.  It is necessary and essential that actions and procedures accompany the declaration, otherwise one would have nothing more than a beautiful-sounding document of limited value.  In the archives of the world, there are many documents like that gathering dust.  The principles of personal freedom and independence set out in that Philadelphia document are so universal and all-encompassing that it is unrealistic to assume that they can be achieved in one go or in a single effort.  The history of the United States over the past 187 years has been an ongoing effort to achieve and expand these original goals.  The actions of the United States for the benefit of large parts of its own population and in support of other nations, new and old, around the globe, have demonstrated abundantly its deep commitment to universal principles and concepts.

As the spokesman for the German participants, Regierungspräsident Dr. Schmitt underlined the importance of Independence Day as a revolutionary event in human history.  The astonishing rise of the United States of America to be the premier leading political and economic power in the free world has at all times been subject to the law of the freedom of nations and individuals, as it was epically expressed in the stunning proclamations of the great statesmen of this nation, of a Jefferson and of a Lincoln.

Today, the national holiday of the United States is an event that also directly affects Europe and Germany.  For the free people of the world are joined with the United States, and the assertion of European freedom is not possible without the alliance with the U.S.  On the national holiday of the USA, the German people also made known their gratitude for the crucial help for the German economic and political reconstruction which the New World rendered after the war.

[I can’t shake the feeling that this uncredited journalist was reporting my father’s own words in part of this article.  (The other part was the words of Reigierungspräsident Schmitt.)  Dad probably would have written a speech in German, with the help of the Amerika Haus staff (who, except for him, were all Germans) rather than in English, which the reporter would have had to translate.  (I assume that, as with most official speeches by government representatives, the press were provided written texts of Dad’s remarks.)

[By the time he held this reception, Dad had been in Koblenz for nine months.  He arrived with a knowledge of spoken German and he would have had time to improve since.  In addition to his office staff, he was surrounded by Germans; we didn’t live in an American compound—our neighbors all were German and so were the service men who kept the house running (fireman, gardener, carpenter, and so on)—and his job was to reach out to the community leaders of Koblenz and the surrounding region. 

[I witnessed many of the occasions when he had to converse or speak in German for his work, and we spoke German when we were in town for any number of reasons such as dining and shopping.  I was also present when Dad gave a lecture in German to local students on the American Civil War—so I know he was capable. 

[Dad’s remarks were clearly consonant with his official duties, praising the United States and its founding principles, and presenting it and the purpose of the celebration in the best light.  That, in a nutshell, was the job description for the Information Center Director.  Not, of course, that he didn’t believe his own words.

[I was present for one Fourth of July reception—I’m pretty sure it was his first, which makes it 1963 (which happens to be the date of this article).  Mom and Dad, who were encouraged to entertain in as an “American” way as possible, decided to introduce Germans to American cocktails—mixed drinks weren’t a thing on the Continent in the early ’60s—by serving Orange Blossoms (gin and orange juice) as the tipple of the day.

[Now, accompanying the article is a photo of a man, presumably the Regeirungspräsident (RP), introducing my father, standing to his left.  [Dad is a shockingly young man, being only 44 at the time.]  Schmitt is behind a lectern, turned slightly to his left and my father, who’s wearing a slightly self-conscious grin.

[Schmitt’s holding a glass in his right hand as if he was just completing a toast; one can just make out that the drink in the glass is opaque, suggesting that it’s an Orange Blossom, rather than, say, a glass of good Rhine or Mosel wine, the more common Koblenz reception drink.  (Koblenz is situated on a triangle of land formed by the confluence of Germany’s two premier wine-producing rivers—the Rhine on its east and the Mosel on its north and  west.)

[Now, a note or two from the article: The Berlin Airlift Monument (formally, in German, Denkmal für die Opfer der Luftbrücke, Monument for the Victims of the Airlift, or simply, the Luftbrückendenkmal, the Airlift Monument) is a commemoration of those who served in the 1948-49 Operation Vittles, otherwise known as the Berlin Airlift (24 June 1948-11 May 1949).  The airlift was launched to relieve the blockaded West Berlin when the Soviet Union cut it off from its supply sources in the Federal Republic of Germany (West Germany). 

[(Readers may note that the German word for ‘airlift’ is Luftbrücke.  Literally, that means ‘air bridge.’  That’s a means of delivering material from one place to another by air as if over a bridge in the sky.  An air bridge is the means by which an area in a hostile or threatened territory is kept supplied by flying over enemy held territory.  West Berlin was in hostile territory because it was 110 miles inside the German Democratic Republic (the GDR or East Germany.), a Soviet satellite; it was threatened because of the blockade which halted deliveries of food, fuel, and medicines.)

[Constructed in 1951, the Airlift Memorial was outside the entrance to Tempelhof Airport, which was also a U.S. air base and served as the Berlin end of the air bridge.  (The other end was Rhein-Main Air Base in Frankfurt.)  Tempelhof is now closed, but the monument’s still in the landmarked Platz der Luftbrücke.

[Coincidentally, ten years after this article, I was stationed in West Berlin in the army.  (I was there for two Independence Days—1972 and 1973.)  During my tour in Berlin, the commander of Tempelhof Air Base (1970-74) was Colonel Gail S. Halvorsen (b. 1920), who’d flown in the Berlin Airlift.  He became a hero to the children of Berlin—who became the adults running the city by the 1970s—and was known as the Candy Bomber because he dropped Hershey bars from his plane.  

[(Colonel Halvorsen also once flew me back to Berlin after I’d used an air force flight to go on leave.  I call this incident “my little brush with actual history” and I recount it in “Berlin Memoir, Part 7,” 29 March 2017.)

[The reason Berlin’s Independence Day celebration was so martial was that it was a major army and air force post for U.S. forces during the Cold War.  (Also French and British.  The Soviets had a large military presence in East Berlin, of course, and their headquarters was in Potsdam, 22 miles southwest of Berlin in the GDR.)  There may have been as many as 10,000 U.S. troops in West Berlin when I was there.

[The Amerika Haus Association (Amerika-Haus-Verein) was established to promote intellectual and cultural exchanges between Germany and the United States.  It promoted events at the Amerika Häuser such as lectures and conferences on developments in contemporary American politics, culture and society, and economic policies.  The association also promoted arts programming at the Amerika Häuser such as concerts, readings, art exhibits, and theatrical performances that complemented this mission.

[The Regierungspräsident of Koblenz to whom the article refers was Dr. Walter Schmitt (1914-94).  (Schmitt’s doctorate was in law; he’d previously served as a district court judge.)  He was appointed RP in 1957 and served until 1967.

[A Regierungspräsident, the head of an administrative district, was a uniquely German political office.  The closest we could come to it in the United States would be a county executive, but the parallels are inexact.  A Regierungsbezirk is a district within a state, in this case the Rhineland-Palatinate (Rheinland-Pfalz), the German state of which Mainz is the capital and in which Koblenz is located. 

[There were three Regierungsbezirke in the Palatinate: Koblenz, Rheinhessen-Pfalz, and Trier; they were dissolved in 2000, like most Regierungsbezirke in the reunited Germany.  Currently, only four German states out of 16 in total are divided into Regierungsbezirke.  The RP is an appointive managerial office, under the jurisdiction of the Minister President (Ministerpräsident) of the state (Land), the equivalent of a governor in the U.S.).

[I guess it’s self-evident that the Jefferson and Lincoln whom RP Schmitt named are Thomas Jefferson (1743-1826), the principal author of the Declaration of Independence and third President of the United States (1801-09), and Abraham Lincoln (1809-65), the Great Emancipator, leader of the Union during the Civil War, and 16th President of the United States (1861-65).  They were also two of my father’s historical heroes.

[Finally, I imagine it’s also obvious that “the war” to which the article refers in the last sentence is World War II (1939-45).  The help the article mentions is almost certainly the Marshall Plan (officially, the European Recovery Program), which provided economic aid to countries of Western Europe between 1948 and 1952 to rebuild the region.  Aid went to nations on both sides of the conflict, Allied and Axis.  The Federal Republic of Germany received one of the largest parcels of financial assistance.  Then, too, came the Berlin Airlift.

[Politically, the U.S., with its wartime allies France and Britain, established the FRG as a liberal democracy from their occupation zones in 1949 and guaranteed the freedom of West Berlin.  The Western Allies accepted the FRG into NATO in 1955. 

[Furthermore, when President John F. Kennedy (1917-63; 35th President of the United States: 1961-63) delivered his famous “Ich bin ein Berliner” speech in the divided city on 26 June 1963—an event at which my father was an official guest—he made a powerful statement about the U.S. and the West’s staunch support of Berlin and the FRG—and endeared himself eternally to the German people.]

*  *  *  *

[The article below is not directly about my father, but it’s about his work.  The report is on a speech given by the U.S. Ambassador to the Federal Republic at the Amerika Haus in Koblenz.  Municipal dignitaries attended the address and my father, as director of the Amerika Haus, was the official host of the event. 

[The article is accompanied by an uncaptioned photo of Dad standing to the left of the ambassador, who was, of course, the senior U.S. Foreign Service officer in Germany and my father’s ultimate boss in country.

[The Rhein-Post, a regional newspaper that published local editions in towns around the district—this clipping was from the Koblenz edition—ceased publication in 1964.]

Rhein-Post [Koblenz] Thursday, 7 November 1963: “USA pushes for European Integration.”

Ambassador George McGhee spoke before the Chamber of Commerce and Industry

KOBLENZ – On Tuesday, the President of the Koblenz Chamber of Commerce and Industry, Dr. Barth, greeted His Excellency the Ambassador of the United States, George C. McGhee, who came to Koblenz to give a speech on " Commercial Expansion and Economic Growth in the Atlantic Community," a joint event of the Amerika Haus and the Chamber of Industry and Commerce.

What attention was paid to the address of His Excellency can be seen from the fact that numerous representatives of public life from politics, administration and business, including Regierungspräsident W. Schmitt; Mayor Macke, who is also chairman of the board of trustees of the Amerika Haus; and General Gaedke were present.

Mayor Macke outlined the extremely sensitive position of the America House in his address.  While reading the thoughts and political maxims on the memorials of Presidents Lincoln and Jefferson, he realized that despite culture and history, Europe had not yet had statesmen like Lincoln and Jefferson. 

In Europe, power has always been the instrument of politics, in the United States, on the other hand, humanism is put into effect and practiced.  It is not so important that the Mona Lisa has been brought to the U.S., but rather it is more important to bring humanism to Europe.  This seems to be the mission of the Amerika Haus.

Ambassador McGhee gave a detailed speech on trade and the economy of the past ten years.  It could rightly be said that the EEC was an economic success and initiated a strengthened exchange of goods among the member states.  The U.S. decided in 1957 to endorse the EEC and to support its formation, despite recognizing the possibility of discrimination against goods from non-member states.  Nevertheless, the greater goal of European integration justified this cost.

The slowdown of the European integration process would be deeply regretted.  He [i.e., Ambassador McGhee] hoped to reflect Germany’s position accurately, saying that both countries, the U.S. and Germany, hoped for an opportunity for renewed talks on the question of Great Britain’s admission to the Common Market.

In the EEC, the U.S. is facing a partner of almost equal strength for the first time, and precisely because they are so similar to one another, these two economic bodies have to work together if they do not want to split up.

In the forthcoming negotiations, the United States and the European Economic Community could expand mutual access to their markets on a basis that would be mutually beneficial.  Major tariff reductions by the United States, the EEC and other trading nations can go a long way towards alleviating problems such as those arising from the so-called “customs gap” between the EEC and EFTA.

[Gustav Adolf Barth (1900-77) was President of the Koblenz Chamber of Commerce and Industry (Industrie- und Handelskammer [IHK] Koblenz) from 1960 to 1965.  He was a Doctor of Law.

[George C. McGhee (1912-2005) was United States Ambassador to West Germany from May 1963, just after my father arrived at his post in Koblenz, to May 1968, after Dad returned to the States.  (While Dad was at the Amerika Haus in Koblenz, his immediate superior was the Consul General in Frankfurt; when he was transferred to the embassy in Bonn as the Cultural Affairs Officer, the ambassador became his ultimate boss in Germany.)

[A sidelight: the embassy staff officer who oversaw the consular activities, including the Amerika Häuser, was the Deputy Chief of Mission, the embassy’s second-in-command after the ambassador.  During McGhee’s tenure, the DCM in Bonn (1963-67) was Martin J. Hillenbrand (1915-2005); he was effectively Dad’s day-to-day boss.  

[West Berlin, which wasn’t officially part of the Federal Republic—it was still occupied territory from World War II—had a U.S. Mission, our diplomatic office in the politically sensitive city.  The ambassador to the FRG maintained an office at the Berlin mission and in June 1972, about a year after I arrived in Berlin as an army officer, a new ambassador took up his post in Bonn.  He was Martin Hillenbrand.  On the afternoon of 7 July, when Hillenbrand made his first visit to Berlin, I paid a call to say hello and reintroduce myself to him after a decade.

[It was part of USIA’s mission to present all aspects of American life—its arts, its politics, its history, its core values, and so on—to the German people, starting with their civic leaders from all sectors of the society.  Addresses like this one and performances like the one in the article below, as well as other events, both formal and informal, were the bulk of my father’s work.

[Willi Werner Macke (1914-85) was Mayor of Koblenz from 1960 to 1972. Lieutenant General Ludwig Heinrich Gaedcke (1905-92) was Commanding General of the III Corps (Bundeswehr), headquartered in Koblenz, from 1961 to 1965.  These and the other men named in these three articles were all people that my father met with and occasionally socialized with, among numerous others from various sectors of Koblenz society, as part of his job. 

[At one time or another while we were living in Koblenz, I met Mayor Macke and General Gaedke; the general and his wife were part of the social circuit on which my parents often traveled; his Weinabende (the German equivalent of cocktail parties, literally ‘wine evenings’) were legendary for their strict adherence to German-style rules of etiquette and comportment. 

[I don’t recall ever having met IHK President Barth or RP Schmitt, though I may have.  Over the three years of Dad’s tour in Koblenz, I met many of the Koblenzers with whom Dad made contact as part of his job.  They were the leaders of the various segments of the community—and some were our neighbors, such as the director of Koblenz’s largest department store, the Kaufhof, Hans-Josef Kaesbach (1918-2012), who lived next door to us.

[In Koblenz—the set-up was different when Dad was transferred to the Bonn embassy—we lived in a U.S. government-owned house, but there was no U.S. residence compound.  We lived, as the expression among Foreign Service people is, “on the economy,” and our neighbors and the local business people with whom we did daily business were Koblenzers.

[Dad was mandated to cultivate the local residents and, as part of his responsibility, so was Mom.  The wives of the men such as those who attended the ambassador’s lecture were the province of my mother, who was an integral part of Dad’s work.  Mom was known to us in those days as “Mrs. Fifty Percent” because during his training, Dad was told that spouses were 50% of the USIA officer’s job. 

[On Tuesday, 8 January 1963, 10 months before this article was published, Leonardo da Vinci’s “Mona Lisa” made its first appearance in the United States, exhibited at the National Gallery of Art in Washington, D.C.

[The EEC, or European Economic Community, was the forerunner of the European Union; it was sometimes referred to as the European Common Market, or simply the Common Market.  The EEC was created in 1957 and was absorbed into the E.U. when it was formed in 1993.

[The “customs gap” is defined as the difference between the theoretical import duty that should be collected and the actual import duty collected.  Any gap in customs-duty collection must be made up by higher Gross National Income contributions from member states and ultimately borne by European taxpayers.

[EFTA is the European Free Trade Association, formed in 1960 by nations which weren’t members of the EEC, including the United Kingdom, to be a counterweight to the EEC.  Since 1973, with the admission of the U.K. and Denmark to the Common Market, and the subsequent membership of many of the founding nations of EFTA, only four remain: Iceland, Liechtenstein, Norway, and Switzerland.  With the departure of most of its members, EFTA has lost its importance with respect to the EEC (or, later, the E.U.).

[The “forthcoming negotiations” referred to in the article were probably the Kennedy Round, the session of General Agreement on Tariffs and Trade (GATT) multilateral trade negotiations held between 1964 and 1967 in Geneva, Switzerland.  Named for U.S. President Kennedy, who was assassinated six months before the opening negotiations (I call your attention to the date of the article above, just 15 days before the president’s death), the discussions officially opened on 4 May 1964.]

*  *  *  *

Trierische Landeszeitung [Trier regional newspaper; Trier (Treves)] Monday, 9 March 1964: “German-American Library Director K***** introduced himself.”

Reception in the German-American Library

At a reception he gave, the new director of the German-American Library in Koblenz and Trier, Eugene M. K*****, took the occasion of the chamber music evening of the American Kroll Quartet, hosted by the German-American Library in the Treviris, to introduce himself to a larger circle in Trier.

Personalities from the intellectual life, the cultural and intergovernmental organizations of Trier, the armed forces and the trade unions had come to the German-American Library, along with French friends led by Consul Marcel Schublin.

A lively exchange of ideas quickly ensued, and those present found the opportunity to thank K***** for the work of the library and the events it had held.

K*****, who came to Germany from Washington about a year-and-a-half ago and then took over as director of the German-American Library, assured the TLZ [Trierische Landeszeitung ] that the few visits he has been able to make to Trier so far have made him aware of Trier’s great cultural importance.  The German-American Library would have a special task in Trier, however, especially due to the border location of the city of Trier and in view of Trier’s importance as a school town.  In books and lecture events, it [i.e., the library] strives to impart awareness of the American way of life and to present the view of the U.S. on contemporary problems and desires to have a conversation with the Germans about them.  That is why he [i.e., Director K*****] is pleased with the interest that young people in particular are showing in this work.

[Accompanying the report is a photo of my father among four men dressed in white-tie-and-tails.  All five men are holding wine glasses as if making a toast, and I presume the four in evening dress are the musicians of the Kroll Quartet.  The caption reads: “The director of the German-American Libraries in Koblenz and Trier, Eugene M. K*****, took the guest performance of the New York Kroll Quartet as an opportunity to introduce himself to a larger circle of Trier’s leading figures.”

[Trier, formerly known in English as Treves, is a city on the banks of the Mosel River in the Rhineland-Palatinate, 100 miles southwest of Koblenz.  The German-American Library in Trier (known in German as DAB, for Deutsch-Amerikanische Bücherei) was a satellite facility of the Koblenz Amerika Haus, so my father was its director ex officio.

[A word about the materials in the DAB’s, including the Amerika Haus library in Koblenz: the collection was divided into two general categories of books and other publications.  One category was works of literature, but only American literature.  They may have been in German translation or in English, but library patrons wouldn’t find Cervantes, Dumas, Dante, or Mann on the shelves. 

[The second category of holdings were books and other materials about the United States.  Covering as many aspects of the U.S. as can fit in the facilities, this material would also be available in German or English—but these materials could be authored by writers from anywhere in the world.  For instance, a reader would be likely to find Frenchman Alexis de Tocqueville’s Democracy in America in the DAB as well as John F. Kennedy’s Profiles in Courage..  

[The Treviris was the common nickname for the Katholisches Vereinshaus Treviris (Catholic Association House), a monumental secular building erected in 1895 and demolished in 1974.  (Treviris is a Latin name for Trier from the time it was a Roman provincial capital.)  After Trier’s municipal theater was destroyed in World War II, the Treviris served as an event venue from 1947.

[The Kroll Quartet was an American classical string quartet active between 1944 and 1969.  Its membership in 1964 comprised William Kroll (1901-80) and William Stone, violinists; Harry Zaratzian (b. 1922), violist, and Avron Twerdowsky (1915-78), cellist.  It was part of Dad’s responsibilities, and a major element of the USIA mission, to present American performing and fine artists and the works of American artists, writers, and thinkers. 

[Among other events my father hosted, in addition to this concert by the Kroll Quartet, was a reading (in German) of Edward Albee’s 1960 absurdist one-act play The American Dream and a performance by actress Celeste Holm and her husband and partner Wesley Addy, who were on a State Department-sponsored goodwill tour.

[Dad also arranged for performances by young American artists to show off our artistic accomplishments.  Nearly every German town has at least an orchestra or an opera troupe, and larger towns, like Koblenz, had both, plus a ballet company and a municipal theater.  Because the U.S. doesn’t have the same cultural environment, American artists come to these small companies to work when their careers are just beginning.  So when an American singer, musician, or dancer was part of one of the Koblenz companies, Dad tried to arrange for a recital at the Amerika Haus. 

[Marcel Charles Schublin (1920-94) was a French diplomat who served as French Consul and Chief of the Chancery in Trier from 1957 to 1965.  (In the diplomatic field, the chancery is the building of a foreign mission that houses the diplomatic offices.  The embassy is actually the ambassador’s residence.  No one observes this distinction, however, and it’s commonly understood that the embassy is where the offices are and the ambassador’s quarters are simply called “the residence.” 

[Chef de la Chancellerie, Schublin’s French title, seems to be the equivalent of what we’d call the Chief of Mission, the senior diplomat at the post.  Schublin, who spoke fluent German, was also instrumental in founding the Deutsch-Französischen Gesellschaft/Association Franco-Allemande (German-French Society) in Trier in 1957.  The “French friends” of which the report speaks were probably members of this organization.

[Trier, or Trèves in French, was seized by the Franks from the Romans in 459 and became part of the Kingdom of Eastern Francia, the successor to Charlemagne’s empire, in 870 until it was absorbed into the Holy Roman Empire in the 9th or 10th century. 

[In the 17th and 18th centuries, Trier was coveted by France, which finally succeeded in taking the city in 1794.  France held onto Trier until after the Napoleonic era ended in 1815.  Then, after World War II, Trier, Koblenz, and all of the Rhineland-Palatinate became part of the French Zone of Occupation until 1949.  After that, France continued to maintain a presence in the Palatinate, both militarily and diplomatically.

[Dad arrived in Koblenz to take up his post as Information Center Director (aka: Director of the Amerika Haus) at the end of September 1962, 17 months earlier—just shy of 1½ years.  Incidentally, while he waited for our house to be readied and my mother to join him, Dad stayed at the French Club, which was the former French officers’ club from when Koblenz was part of the French occupation zone; it was renamed the French Club and opened to all, becoming one of our favorite places to eat.  (I had escargots [snails] there for the first time, and salade niçoise.)

[The city of Trier’s “border location” is that it sits only nine miles from the border with Luxembourg, and 30 miles from France and 58 miles from Belgium.  As to why Dad referred to Trier as a “school town” (Schulstadt), his point isn’t clear.  The University of Trier was founded in 1473, but closed in the 18th century; it was reopened, but not until six years after this report was written.  Two other university-level institutes operate in Trier today, but they both post-date Dad’s tenure in Germany.

[As in any city, there are dozens of kindergartens, primary schools, and secondary schools, including Realschulen and Gymnasien, but that doesn’t seem a rationale for characterizing Trier as a “school town.”  (A Gymnasium is a university preparatory school much like a prep school in the U.S., a college in the U.K., or a lycée in France.  A Realschule is a step below that in the German school system, preparing students through 10th grade for entry into vocational school, technical college, or the mid-level civil service.


13 November 2019

The Rhine in Flames


As many regular readers of Rick On Theater know, I lived in Germany with my family for a number of years as a teenager.  (See my post “An American Teen In Germany,” 9 and 12 March 2013.  I was also stationed in West Berlin ten years later when I was in the army.)  From 1962 to 1965, my dad, who was a Foreign Service Officer, was assigned to Koblenz, a small city in Land Rheinland-Pfalz (the state of Rhineland-Palatinate).  It had just reached 100,000 inhabitants the month my dad arrived in town.

(Back in that time, my family and I took to using many German words, names, and expressions among ourselves.  As a student at an international school in Switzerland, my schoolmates, both those who took their classes in French and those who studied in English, and I had our own lingua franca, Franglais—or franglais, as the French kids would have it.  Most people know that that’s a sort of pastiche of French and English and we spoke it among ourselves all the time.

(Well, my folks and I and other Anglophones we knew in Koblenz, including some Canadians, Brits, and other Amis, did the same thing with German, a kind of Denglisch, you might say.  So in our house, a chest was a Schrank, a common soft drink was Limonade (not lemonade, but a lemon-lime soda like 7 Up) and a fruit juice we liked was Johannesbeerensaft, even when we were speaking English.  The same went for things like the name of the state in which we were living, the Rhineland-Palatinate, which we routinely called the Rheinland-Pfalz; the Elector’s palace was the Schloss, Ehrenbreitstein was the Festung, not the fortress, the Mosel River was always the Mosel and not Moselle, and so on.

(For a topic like this one that transports me back to those years, I fall back into that habit, and rather than force myself to struggle against an old habit, I’m going to be indulging myself—and I hope you can go with it.  I’ll translate or explain those German words and terms at least once when I first use them.)

Koblenz is right on the Rhine River, the second-longest river in Central and Western Europe (after the Danube), about 60 miles north of Mainz, the largest city in the Rheinland-Pfalz and the state’s capital, and 53 miles south of Bonn, the former capital of the Bundesrepublik (Federal Republic [of Germany]) when it was known colloquially as West Germany (1949 to 1990).  Europe’s tenth-longest river, of its 760-mile length, the Rhine’s longest stretch (432 miles) flows within Germany (it starts in Switzerland and ends in Holland), rolling past mountains and cliffs (like the legendary Lorelei, about 23½ miles south of Koblenz), towns and cities, fortresses and castles—nearly 50, some restored, some partially restored, and some just ruins; one, Pfalz-bei-Kaub, sits on an island in the stream itself (28 miles south of Koblenz)—and vineyards, vineyards, vineyards. 

Koblenz is located at the point where the Mosel River flows into the Rhine, forming the Deutsches Eck (German corner) like a giant street corner (about a mile upstream from our house).  Thus the city, now at over 114,000 inhabitants and the third largest in the Rheinland-Pfalz (after Mainz and Ludwigshafen), lies between the two most important wine-producing river valleys in Germany.

Our government-supplied house was on the Rheinanlagen (now renamed the Kaiserin-Augusta-Anlagen for the first Empress of Germany, the wife of Kaiser Wilhelm I), a promenade along the river which runs downstream a little over two miles from the Deutsches Eck; no motorized vehicles except service trucks and three-wheelers are permitted on the walkway.  Our large living room windows at Rheinanlagen 12 looked out with an unobstructed view at the river essentially across the “street.”

Even when we had nothing else to do, sitting and watching the activity along the Rhine was endlessly engrossing.  Small boats of all kinds plied the waterway along with ferries crossing to and from the towns on the other bank; barges and tugs moved coal, automobiles, or other freight up and down the river. 

It was startling when we first realized that families lived on those barges, with little huts rising from the decks and evidence of family life, such as cooking smoke rising from the little chimney, a small car parked next to the tiny home, and laundry hanging out to dry alongside, visible as the boats sailed by.  Sometimes children played on the flat deck of the barge and not infrequently, there was a dog barking. 

There were also lots of cruise ships sailing from Mainz or points south—Mannheim or Basel—down to Rotterdam and back.  Koblenz was an overnight stop on the river cruises and the piers were located just downstream from our house so we could often see the tourists embarking or disembarking.  One of the hotels where the cruise passengers stopped, a few hundred yards down from our house, had the wonderfully evocative name of the Kleiner Riesen—the Little Giant. 

Koblenz is an old town, dating back to Roman times when it was called Confluentes, for the confluence of the Rhine and the Mosel.  In 1992, the city celebrated its 2000th anniversary.  Though Mainz is the state capital (and Trier, 62 miles northeast, had been the Roman regional capital), Koblenz is the site of the Schloss (palace) of the Kurfürst (Prince-Elector) of Trier, one of the 23 electors of the Holy Roman Emperor from the 13th century until the HRE was abolished in 1806. 

That Kurfürst is a connection to one of the biggest annual public celebrations in Koblenz and the surrounding area in the Middle Rhine Valley: Der Rhein in Flammen—known in English as The Rhine in Flames—an immense pyrotechnical event.  The first Rhine in Flames fireworks display took place in Koblenz in 1756 in honor of Johann IX Philipp von Waldendorf (1701-68), the Archbishop-Elector of Trier from 1756 to 1768.  According to historical records, Elector Johann Philipp, who was staying at Festung Ehrenbreitstein (the Schloss wasn’t built until 1778), towering on a cliff overlooking the river from its eastern bank, was partial to firework shows, so a pyrotechnical display burst over the castle. 

The backstory for the Rhine in Flames goes back to the final years before the common era when the Roman invaders were conquering what became the northern frontiers of the Roman Empire.  The Roman legions were barricaded behind border fortifications called lá¿‘mitÄ“s, constructed to protect the Romans from the “uncivilized” and “wild” Germans.  (Think of Hadrian’s Wall in Britain; it served the same purpose.) 

To get to the enemy, the indigenous German defenders had to find a way to distract the Romans, so they sent burning ships down the Rhine and confused the Roman troops.  While the Romans were in disarray, the Germans broke through the walls.  

(Sounds a little bit like the Wall in Game of Thrones that guarded the Kingdom of the North [Germania] and the rest of Westeros [Roman Empire] from the wildings and the White Walkers [Germani].  Then the Wall [Roman lá¿‘mes] was breached and the White Walkers poured through the gap.)

The tactic of the German tribal warriors became the model for the modern celebration of the Rhine in Flames.  To honor Elector Johann Philipp after his appointment and to mark his visit to Koblenz, rockets were fired from aboard three boats positioned in the middle of the river opposite the Deutsches Eck.  Pyrotechnics were also set off from a large wooden frame set up on the Ehrenbreitstein embankment as the Elector’s boat lay anchored below the Festung.

On Thursday, 14, and Friday, 15 August 1845, Queen Victoria (1819-1901; reined from 1837) and Prince Albert (1819-61; Prince-Consort from 1840) of England visited Koblenz as part of their official trip through Germany.  (Readers may remember that Prince Albert was German, from the royal family of Saxe-Coberg and Gotha, within what is now the German state of Bavaria some 215 miles east of Koblenz.  Part of the voyage was to pay a private family visit to Albert’s home duchy, which was also Victoria’s mother’s birthplace, at the end of August and early September.  Albert celebrated his 26th birthday in Coberg on 26 August.)

The royal couple, accompanied by the King and Queen of Prussia, Friedrich Wilhelm IV (1795-1861; reined from 1840) and Elisabeth Ludovika of Bavaria (1801-73); the King of Belgium, Léopold I (1790-1865; Léopold was an uncle of both Queen Victoria and Prince Albert); and the Crown Prince of Prussia, Wilhelm Friedrich Ludwig (1797-1888; the king’s brother and regent from 1958 who would become Wilhelm I, the first Emperor of Germany; reined as King of Prussia from 1861 and Kaiser from 1871), were honored with firework displays in Bonn and Cologne before they continued on their Rheinreise (Rhine journey) by steamer to Schloss Stolzenfels near Koblenz, where they were to stay.  (The palace, rebuilt from a ruined 13th-century castle in 1842, belonged to King Friedrich Wilhelm.)

The story has it that Victoria was enjoying the beautiful Rhine scenery so much that she insisted on staying aboard the royal yacht, HMY [Her Majesty’s Yacht] Victoria and Albert, for the day.  In the afternoon, she was welcomed to Koblenz with gun salvos from Festung Ehrenbreitstein.  After disembarking at Stolzenfels, the royal couple were treated to another spectacular pyrotechnical show.

The tradition was continued irregularly until the 1930s; it was halted during World War II, then revived.  Today, the firework show that’s the culmination of the festival still takes place over Ehrenbreitstein.  Every year since 1956, the Rhine Valley has been gloriously lit up by red Bengal flares and fireworks.  (Bengal flares, formerly used as signals but now classified as fireworks, create a bright light, normally for some time.  They’re ground-based and create an intense flame, as opposed to a shower of sparks like a fountain.  The red aerial flame effect, reflected by the river, is what gives spectators the impression that the Rhine itself is aflame.)

The Rhine in Flames festival is held annually in Koblenz on the second Saturday in August.  There are several similar events on other dates in other towns along the river, but Koblenz’s celebration is the biggest.  Today, the Procession to Koblenz (Strecke Spay-Koblenz) starts a little over 10 miles south of Koblenz in the Bopparder Hamm, or loop in the river between the towns of Boppard and Spay.  The convoy of ships sails down river at 9:30 in the evening, beginning with a firework display over the town of Spay.  There are displays all along the route at several small Rhine towns, some at castles along the river, until the boats reach the Deutsches Eck in Koblenz at 11 p.m. when the pièce de résistance occurs, the great pyrotechnical show over Ehrenbreitstein.  (Tickets for this kind of cruise, including a meal on board, are something over €100/$110 per person.)

On the first Saturday in May, the Rhine in Flames celebration, called The Night of Bengal Fire (Die Nacht der Bengalfeuer), is held in Bonn; in July, in the Rüdesheim-Bingen area, is the Night of Fire Magic (Die Nacht Des Feuerzaubers); in early September, at Oberwesel, The Night of a Thousand Fires (Die Nacht der Tausend Feuer) takes place; in mid-September, from Burg Katz (Castle “Cat”; there’s also neighboring Burg Maus!) near Sankt Goarshausen, Burg Rheinfels near Sankt Goar, and from the middle of the Rhine between the twin towns on either side of the river, is the Night of the Lorelei (Die Nacht der Lorelei – named for the storied rock outcropping nearby that’s the subject of many songs, poems, tales, and legends).

In 2019, the 3-day Koblenzer Sommerfest took place from Friday, 9, to Sunday, 11 August and in 2020, it will run from Friday, 7, through Sunday, 9 August.  The fare on Friday and Sunday and the daylight hours of Saturday are typical of summer festivals the world over—concessions, souvenir and craft tents and booths, amusements, food, wine, and beer purveyors, and so on.  The Ehrenbreitstein Seilbahn (cable car) runs continuously between the Deutsches Eck and the fortress ruin atop the cliff across the Rhine.

The celebration is arrayed along the banks of the Rhine and the Mosel and around the Deutsches Eck.  (There’s no entrance fee for the festival, though visitors have to pay for anything they buy at the concessions, of course.  I don’t know if the usual fare for the Seilbahn, €11/ca. $12, is waived, however.)  An eclectic music festival, the FestungsMusikFest, is underway on the grounds of Ehrenbreitstein during the Sommerfest, with more than 300 artists playing various styles of music on nine stages.  The Rhine in Flames event, the festival highlight, takes place on Saturday night.

In 1956, there were 30 ships and about 150,000 visitors at the celebration.  These days, between 60 and 80 ships travel the illuminated 10½-mile route from Spay/Braubach to Koblenz every year.  Since 2012, the Rhine in Flames in Koblenz has been a three-day program.  In 2018, up to 76 ships provided 22,000 passengers or so with wonderful views of the Rhine castles, palaces, and riverside promenades (like the Rheinanlagen, on which our house fronted), all washed in the red glow of Bengal lights.  An additional almost 250,000 visitors came to enjoy the festivities.   
 
Back in the early ’60s, when my family and I lived in Koblenz—I was 16 when I first went there to live and 18 when Dad was transferred to the embassy in Bonn—the Rhine in Flames was still a one-day event.  Believe me, that seemed plenty to me at the time.

Our house at Rheinanlagen 12 was ideally situated for the annual fireworks blow-out.  The towns along the river held wine festivals in conjunction with the celebration and on the day of the big event, and all the houses, shops, and restaurants along both sides of the river put candles in the windows that faced the water. 

Before dusk, the cruise ships sailed down the river past the townscapes, the mountains, and the cliffs.  Some of the boats offered entertainment, dinner, and drinks—mostly wine (German, of course—what else!) and probably Sekt (German sparkling wine).  When they all arrived at dusk, the boats, now all illuminated with festive lights, turned around and headed back to Koblenz in the night. 

As they arrived in Koblenz, the boats arrayed themselves along the river from Festung Ehrenbreitstein downstream past our house and held.  An immense fireworks display erupted over the fortress with the ruins silhouetted against the glow.  The show started with the Bengal flares bathing the Festung in red light; when the flares died off, the fireworks started.  The river itself burst into flame as the flares and fireworks were reflected in the water.  I’m not normally a big fan of pyrotechnics, but this was truly magical—the river, the boats, the lights in the towns, the ruins of Ehrenbrietstein.

The whole panorama was clearly visible from the small terrace of our house where we could sit on the warm summer night with a nice glass of wine—I’d love to say it was a Rhine wine, but it was just as likely to have been a Mosel or even some other German white—as the convoy arrived, all lit up itself, and got into position right in the middle of the stream opposite our house for the pyrotechnics.  I have many memories of that time in my life, as my two-part memoir attests, but the Rhine in Flames is one of the most enduring. 

All the homes and shops across the river were aglow with the lights in their windows and people strolling along the promenades on both banks, like Koblenz’s Rheinanlagen, wore little battery-powered lights in their lapels or hanging from their breast pockets.  And there we were, like the Kaiser in his box at the theater!  Eat your hearts out, New Year’s Eve revelers in Times Square!  This was a celebration!

[Last Saturday, 9 November, was the 30th anniversary of the fall of the Berlin Wall; it was all over the news.  I mentioned above that I served in West Berlin with the army ten years after the time I lived in Koblenz, but I didn’t say that I arrived in Berlin just a few days before the 10th anniversary of the Wall’s construction—13 August 1971.  (I had gotten to Berlin on 29 July.)

[As many ROTters know, I was a Military Intelligence special agent, and  the first real MI operation in which I was involved in Berlin was the demonstration coverage of the two marches marking the day—one by leftists supporting the Wall and one by rightists opposing it.  I wrote about this in a post marking the 20th anniversary of the Wall coming down (called simply “The Berlin Wall,” posted on 29 November 2009).  It was quite an introduction to my coming 2½ years behind the front lines of the Cold War!

[I have blogged on my experience in Berlin, where the Wall was a ubiquitous presence in our lives, several times since I launched ROT.  Some of my other Berlin posts include “Berlin Station,” 19 and 22 July 2009; “Berlin Stories: Three SNAFU’s,” 18 August 2012; and the eight-part “Berlin Memoir,” 16 and 31 December 2017 and 20 January, 9 and 19 February, 11 and 29 March, and 13 April 2018.]

18 June 2015

Home Alone 3


[This is the final section of the series of letters my dad wrote home to Mom before she came to Germany to share their new life there with him.  Dad makes some observations about the Germans that might seem harsh, but I’m here to tell you, they aren’t inaccurate.  Things may have changed in the 50 years since, but the truth hasn’t.]

Wednesday, Oct. 10, 1962
My darling,

No letter from you today, so I don’t have to concern myself with getting the answers to a lot of questions; this at least is somewhat of a compensation.  I can spend my conversation with rambling on about experiences and observations.

The German uses his fork as a shovel, his knife as a broom, his mouth as a vacuum cleaner and his stomach (I am sure) as a sewer.  He approaches food with complete and dead earnestness, and his only real concern about a menu selection is how he wants his potatoes.  Generally he likes them cooked, but I suspect he will eat them raw if necessary.  He consumes them in great quantities [and this was a good 15 years before Dan Aykroyd and Jane Curtin did “The Coneheads” on SNL!], and a meal is often meat and potatoes without any vegetable or other attendant food.  He carries the continental habit of eating with both knife and fork at the same time to ridiculous extremes.  I have seen them use the knife to put food in their mouth, and of course to help pile ridiculous mounds on the fork for inhalation.  He cuts his food only into pieces small enough to be manageable.  This means that tremendous chunks of stuff are taken at one gulp.  Large pieces also provide excellent platforms on which to place potatoes and any other items which are imbibed at the same time.  My momentary observation is that Douglas at his worst looks positively regal at the table compared to many Germans.

The German is fond of animals.  They have many dogs for pets, and never bother to take them to the curb when walking them.  This makes walking something of a challenge.  You find yourself constantly sidestepping the evidence of their presence.  [And my dad was a dog-lover.  My mother, not so much, but Dad loved dogs and we’d had several before we left the States.]

All German waiters and waitresses carry a money purse just slightly smaller than an attache case.  All checks are paid directly to the waiter who makes change immediately, and then presumably settles with the restaurant later.  For this reason he carries with him enough money to make change, and during the day this purse keeps getting fatter and fatter.  [This was, of course, in the days before credit cards were common, especially in Europe.]

I failed to mention to you in earlier letters that I have seen the signs with THAT WORD.  At several places around town a local jeweler has placed clocks which read simply his name Martin, Uhr (clocks) and Schmuck (you know).  [Okay, everyone probably gets what Dad found amusing here.  Schmuck is German for ‘jewelry’ or ‘ornament.’  It has a different meaning in Yiddish, which has bled over into English slang.]

I suppose you read of the passage by Congress of the postal and pay raise bills.  This means that we get about a 10% pay raise as soon as JFK signs it.  It goes into effect the first pay period following signing, and then an automatic additional raise in January 1964.

I must tell you of an absolutely shattering experience I had yesterday morning.  I was scheduled to pay my respects to the head of the local DGB (the association of labor unions, similar to our AFL-CIO [Deutscher Gewerkschaftsbund, or the Confederation of German Trade Unions]).  When I arrived he ushered me into the conference room where he had assembled the heads of seven unions and proceeded to introduce me to each of them and then go into a formal speech of welcome and good wishes.  This was fine, albeit slightly unexpected, and I replied as best I could.  Then came the bottle of cognac and toasts had to be drunk all around.  This at about 11 in the morning.  Believe me love, when I left that place I was not even touching the ground with my feet.  It was as bad if not worse than the Army Navy Club episode.  [I don’t know what this episode was, but I can guess.  So can you, I imagine.  The Army and Navy Club is a social organization in Washington of which my father was a member.  (They called him “Capt. K*****” there, which always amused me!)]  I was shattered for the rest of the day—absolutely no good.  It was a good thing that I had answered your letter earlier; I never would have made any sense after that.  [It was conventional wisdom that alcoholism was the occupational disease of the diplomatic service.]

I wonder of you would try and bring something with you of my clothing.  Only if you have room and need not crowd or go over weight—I can use a sport jacket and a pair of slacks for week ends, and for working around the house, some sneakers and blue jeans.  Everything I have with me is somewhat on the dressy and formal side.

                                                                                    G
*  *  *  *
 [Thursday,] Oct. 11, 1962
My dearest,

No mail today—these must be the weekend days, and you are in Princeton so I won’t hear from you until tomorrow at the earliest and possibly Saturday.

Today there will be a slight break in the routine of calls and administrative duties here in the office.  I had a call yesterday afternoon from Frankfurt which gives me the opportunity of going there today.  Some budgetary matter[s] for the forthcoming year are to be discussed, so I shall make the trip.  In all probability I shall return this evening.

I dropped a note to Rick this morning—he told me about his unfortunate test results.  [I don’t remember what these “unfortunate test results” were—obviously a low grade; in my case, it probably was a C, I imagine.  It happened.]  I hope he isn’t having too good a time this year.  Maybe this is done purposely to bring the boys up short and get them to settle down to serious business.  [I doubt this.  I probably just didn’t study or something.]

I haven’t heard from Doug since last week; I can’t tell you how I envy you your trip this weekend to Pottstown [the Pennsylvania town in which my brother’s school was located].  Relate every moment and incident when you write me about it.  I must know everything.

There isn’t any more news or information to dispense at the moment.  If I got started about missing you I might go on indefinitely and first thing you know I’d start feeling sorry for myself.  Just take it for granted that I do.

                                                                        Lovingly,
                                                                                    G
*  *  *  *
Friday, Oct. 12, 1962
My dearest darling,

May I first wish you the happiest of Columbus Days.

Yesterday, as I wrote you, I had to go to Frankfurt for the afternoon.  How happy I am that I did.  There waiting for me were three letters from you, one from Auntie Mac in Israel, and the envelope from Monroe Karasik.  [“Auntie Mac” is my father’s baby sister, Marion, who lived near Boston; she must have been visiting Israel, although I don’t remember that.  I’m not sure who Monroe Karasik was, but there was a lawyer and lobbyist in Washington, a fellow Chevy Chase resident, by that name.  What he might have sent Dad is a mystery to me.]  I know that you write regularly, and I am aware that the delay and bunching up of mail is all due to the pick up and delivery systems [of that APO mail system I noted in part 2].  The proof is in the receipt of three letters at one time.  This morning I got the package of bills and other items which you sent me.  This got sent to another Amerika Haus by mistake and had to be forwarded to me here.  [The German mail system is so precise and accurate that Germans know exactly when a scheduled piece of mail is supposed to arrive and if it doesn’t get to them on the day expected, they call the post office and complain immediately!]

I’m sorry about the cards.  I did have business cards printed here (sample attached) but before I left D.C. they told me I would not have to have formal engraved cards since I was not at an embassy or consular post.  When I arrived I was told to make a formal call as soon as possible after arrival; cards for both of us will be required.  I figured you must have a plate which can be used rather than have a new one made.

About the clothing: you can leave in storage the cotton poplin suits (tan and blue), the seersucker striped suits, the linen suits and a checked light weight wool and dacron suit.  Send along the gabardines (tan, brown, and blue), dark gray stripe, and two pebble weave cotton and dacron from Brooks Bros. (one gray and one brown).  You may leave all the gay cotton and flannel slacks for summer and all the shorts (take maybe one or two pair of shorts, in case).  Also leave all the very light colored summer jackets.  Also leave the white loafers, hiking shoes, riding boots, a pair of light weight wing tip leather shoes in black and dark brown.

The weekend is coming up and that is the loneliest of times.  No office activity to make the time move along.  No car to go off touring, and no social contacts yet to spend time with.  I have had no dinner or evening invitations as yet—with the exception of tonight.  An English judge who stays at the “Club” while the international tribunal is in session, is having a small party tonight for his daughter who is arriving.  He invited me to take part and I must say I am looking forward to it. 

[The “Club,” of course, is the French Club, where Dad was still living.  The “tribunal” he mentions was an international court of reparations, known as the Arbitral Tribunal, that sat in Koblenz.  It heard suits over property seized by the Nazis during the Third Reich and I believe it had five judges, each from a different country which changed periodically on a rotating basis.  Dad eventually got friendly with the Italian judge.]

Now a few more items about the house furnishings etc.  The living room is light gray, has 2 green sofas, 5 upholstered chairs, 1 coffee table, 1 round end table.  It has a large dark wood breakfront with open shelves and small cabinet sections about as follows: [A pencil outline of the breakfront follows showing details, with dimensions and the notation: “shaded area is open.”]

The dining room is blue.  There are two side boards which line up end to end along one wall (I guess), a long oblong table (it should have leaves to insert, but I haven’t seen them), 8 side chairs and host and hostess chairs all of dark wood with blue plastic backs and bottoms, a china closet about as follows: [Another diagram is included.]

This is about 5 feet in height and approximately 4′ long.

There is also a long chest with two pair of cabinet doors.  One side of one cabinet contains six drawers (for silver and other items, I guess) about like this: [Yet another sketch.]

There was also on the dining room a low table on wheels with a glass top (tea cart) and a square table with drop leaves also on wheels.  The latter has a shallow drawer and cabinet which opens at opposite ends, front to back.  In other words both the back and front have a drawer and a cabinet which opens.

There is a large breakfront standing in the bar alcove which is like this: [A fourth drawing.]

In addition I found 8 straight and two wooden arm chairs similar to the dining room chairs only with rust brown plastic backs and seats.  There appear additional ones like this around the house for odd chairs (bedroom, etc.).  Also a brown upholstered small easy chair.

The den is light tan.  It has a blue high back sofa, leather topped desk, small coffee table, pair of end tables (small cabinet type) and two nesting tables.  Also a blue upholstered easy chair and an odd upholstered chair with wooden arms.

The breakfast room is peach and has only an open shelf cabinet.

The kitchen is light green, has an old wooden table, two above the counter double door cabinets, 3 double door below the counter cabinets and one single door.  I broom cabinet, 1 full length storage cabinet with shelves (canned goods, etc.), 5 shallow under the counter drawers and one bread drawer.

In each of the two small bedrooms on the third floor there is a single bed, a closet cabinet, a night table and a chair.

Maybe this inventory combined with the second floor information that I sent to you the other day will help decide what to take.  All in all the furniture is pretty worn and shabby.  It may be possible to request replacement or at least recovering.  I understand the thing to do is go up to Bonn and fight with the procurement man to give you some of the newer things he may have on hand in exchange for the shabbier things you may have.  In view of all the downstairs cabinets maybe you had better reconsider my suggestion about our breakfront.  At any rate, even if we do go over our allowance, I would rather pay some money to get some of our more desirable things here for the next few years.  It is always a fair gamble that we will stay longer than three years.

Does any of this make any sense to you other than I love you and I miss you terribly.

                                                                                    G
*  *  *  *
Monday, Oct. 15, 1962
My darling,

How was the weekend?  Did you manage to have both Doug and Rick together or didn’t it work out?  [I don’t recall a weekend with my mother and my brother.  (Columbus Day was on Friday, the 12th, in 1962, and that was before the holidays were all moved to Mondays, so no three-day weekends.)  Our schools weren’t that close to one another; it was a 75-mile one-way trip, a 1½-hour drive.]  I just got a delightful note from Doug this morning.  The best and most amusing part of it was the receipt of the clippings which I also sent to him.  He says “I got your letter with the pictures and I hung them on the wall behind my bed but no one can read them.”  [Doug’s talking about the German newspaper articles about Dad’s arrival in Koblenz.]  I found this terribly amusing.

He says he is doing very well and is terribly busy.  The grade average which he wrote me certainly indicates better than even very well.  It sounds like he is doing stupendously.

Now, don’t get yourself all excited about a maid.  I didn’t say I had one, I only indicated I was on the trail of one.  It may not work out since she lives out of town and has a family.  This involves commuting which may not be either possible or satisfactory.  The embassy finally gave me the go ahead on the floors and general cleaning in the house.  And I hope to get started on that this week.  If they can finish it up within the next ten days, I will move in and start getting things ready for your arrival (I personally, am quite ready).  You might jot down some food items that you think I can stock up on.  I will be in Bonn the 18th and 19th and I can use the commissary.  [Commissaries are military grocery stores, operated by the army’s Quartermaster Corps, the supply branch.  (PX’s are like department stores and are run by a Department of the Army civil service agency, in Europe called the European Exchange System, or EES.)  The embassy compound in Bad Godesberg had a small commissary.  In Koblenz, where we had no access to a PX or commissary, my family lived “on the economy,” doing our shopping just like the Koblenzers.]  I thought I would get some American canned goods (fruit juices, fruits, etc., and some cereals).  These things are generally quite expensive on the German market but the fresh foods such as vegetables and meats, butter, bread and milk are just as good [as] and not any more expensive than [at] the commissary.  [That’s not entirely accurate: the milk in Germany then was pasteurized, but not homogenized.]  I’ll also bring in some cleaning soaps and powders.  If I get the place in order and the maid is available I shall hire her and put her right to work getting things set up.

I had a rather pleasant weekend.  I mentioned in my last letter that I had been invited to a small party on Friday night by the English judge stationed here.  He had his daughter come to town to help him move his household from Berlin, where he sits on another court, and from which he has resigned, to Koblenz.  She is a very nice newly married young lady who is living in Bucharest with her husband (an Englishman) supervising some British operations in Roumania.  As a result of the little supper on Friday there was another invitation for Saturday night dinner, which helped make the weekend more pleasant and not so lonely.

This morning I called on the leader of the local SPD (one of the two major political parties in Germany [Sozialdemokratische Partei Deutschlands, or the Social Democratic Party of Germany]) and again the cognac routine.  This time coffee came with it, so it didn’t hit me quite so hard.  I know what they mean when they talk of alcoholism being an occupational disease.  [See?  I told ya.]  I regret that I have only one liver to give for my country.  [Do you suppose Dad made that up himself?]

Tonight we are sponsoring a chamber music concert.  [This was probably a group of American musicians, either ones working locally or on tour for USIA.]  Since this requires more space than is available in our own auditorium, we use one of the local schools.  I don’t have to do anything except be there and act as host—matter of fact I am looking forward to the concert.  The quartet has an excellent reputation and it should be my dish of tea.  [Actually, they serve tea in glasses in Germany.]

I love you, I miss you, I wish the 27th were already here.

                                                                        Adoringly,
                                                                                    G
*  *  *  *
[Tuesday,] Oct. 16, 1962
Darling,

No appointments today, so I have remained relatively sober.  Today another jackpot.  A lovely letter from Doug, one from Mort (your substitute husband?) and two and a half from you.  The half being the little note with the cartoon addressed directly here.  It was postmarked Oct. 13, so it only took three days; its mate has not yet arrived.  [“Mort” would be Morton Rabineau, husband of Vivian, and the other half of the couple who were my “second” parents; see letter of 8 October.  (Sidelight: “Uncle” Mort and my dad had the exact same birthday: day, month, and year; the two couples always celebrated together—except, of course, in the years my family was abroad.)  I don’t know what the cartoon was.]

I’m inclined to agree with you about Nichols [despite the variant spelling, this is certainly the real estate agent Dad wrote about earlier].  I think he is hungry enough to possibly [be] doing a better job for us than anyone else.

I think your thoughts on bringing more of the smaller pieces over is good.  After talking to a few “veterans” I find that you fight with the procurement officer on a fairly constant basis (keep after him, that is) and you manage to get furniture replaced, recovered and repaired so that eventually you get things looking pretty decent.  It’s the small little touches that make the difference.

The next few days will be busy ones for me, and you may find mail slacks off a bit.  I go to Bonn for two days of conferences (all A.H. directors in Germany).  I get back on Saturday and on Monday I go to a small town in the area named Zeltingen where we are sponsoring a three day seminar of teaching students from the two normal schools [teachers’ colleges] in this area (Rheinland-Pfalz).  [Zeltingen, a town of about 2,000 inhabitants, is on the Mosel River about 60 miles southwest of Koblenz.]  We have supplied the lecturers and subjects for these conferences and I must appear and make a welcoming speech.  Back to Koblenz on Tuesday in time for a lecture at our A.H. auditorium that night, and again the introductory remarks from me.  After that I relax and wait for you——.

                                                                        Lovingly,
                                                                                    G

P.S.  An enclosure with self-explanatory notes.  [The enclosure was a letter from Beatrice Perry, who I had guessed was the person to whom Dad referred the “English lady” who was an amateur painter; see the letter dated 5 October.  (Dad added a few wry remarks to Beati’s letter, but I won’t detail them.)  I was correct, and the British couple’s name was Melville.  Beati opened her note to Dad with: “It was wonderful . . . to know that you are really there bringing our culture to those hopeless natives (or vice versa).”  I hope she was joking!  (Whatever else people can say about Germans and their culture, it is the land that gave us Goethe, Schiller, Mann, Klee, Ernst, Beethoven, and the Bauhaus—not to mention Mercedes-Benz, Porsche, and the VW.)  Beati also mentioned Stuart Davidson, another of the partners in Gres Gallery.  He went on to start Clyde’s eateries in Washington—though he sold the company many years ago now.]

[Wednesday,] Oct. 17, 1962
Dearest,

The enclosed form and accompanying letter arrived from school this morning.  Since you visited Doug over the weekend I’m sure you know the whole story about his exhaustion.  That kid will play his heart out for something.  I have filled out the form except for checking the diseases on the front and his immunization dates on the back.  The latter you should take from the immunization record with his passport.  The part to be filled in by a physician does not have to be done.  Please mail it on to school. 

[Enclosed with Dad’s letter was one from my brother’s school doctor dated 13 October 1962.  The day before, Doug “played soccer until he became exhausted” and was admitted to the school infirmary.  I don’t remember this incident at all; it’s possible that I never knew about it—my folks may just not have told me Doug was sick.  (The form Dad mentions was a “preentrance [sic] health report form” that either hadn’t been filed or went missing.  Doug was scheduled for a physical at school soon, which is why my parents didn’t have to complete part of the form.)  In any case, he recovered the next morning and the doctor “dismissed him to school.”]

Since I received three (really two and a half) letters yesterday I am not surprised that there are none today.  My only complaint is that I will go off to Bonn this afternoon and not have any mail until I return on Friday night or Saturday morning.

By now the packers should be at the house completing the packing and shipping job, unless the original schedule you gave me has been changed.  This means that the decisions have been made and we no longer have to worry about them.  I’m sorry about my clothes.  I know there are a lot of them, and I’m sorry that they are my weakness.  [Dad was a clothes horse, his own kind of fashion plate!]  I apologize but there isn’t much else I can do except assure you that for the next three years my purchases will be at a minimum.  My big trouble is that I never get rid of anything—just add.  [That was true.  It helped that Dad’s style never really went out of fashion, so he could keep wearing whatever he owned until it wore out.  And he did!]  You’ll have to accept me with my shortcoming and problems.  [Too late!  They’d been married for almost 17 years by this time.]  I’m sure there must be some Freudian explanation to my clothes mania.

All my love for you is contained in each suit and pair of shoes.  Will that indicate some measure of its extent?

                                                                                    G
*  *  *  *
[This is the last letter that I have; as he wrote, on 18 and 19 October, Dad was at a conference of Amerika Haus directors at the embassy.  I don’t know if Dad didn’t write any more after that (that doesn’t seem likely) or if Mom didn’t keep the letters or if they just got lost.  Mom was due to arrive in Germany on the 26th or 27th (Dad made two different references to her arrival date), six or seven days after Dad got back to Koblenz.  In any case, this was the prelude to a wonderful family adventure and the next stage began when Mom joined Dad and continued when my brother and I came over some months later.

[A sidebar to all the preparations for shipping my folks’ personal belongings.  Sometime between the packing and the shipping, a dockworkers’ strike shut down all the Atlantic ports in the U.S. and nothing sailed.  When my brother and I arrived for our first visit, over Christmas 1962, Dad’s clothes hadn’t arrived and all he had was a trench coat for warmth.  We traveled to Paris in an unprecedented cold snap with Dad shivering and shaking all the way.  We were also forced to drive a rented Peugeot—Avis and Hertz hadn’t reached Europe yet—which was a wreck with windows that wouldn’t roll up and a heater that didn’t work—because the American car my parents had bought (an American Motors Ambassador: raise your hand if you remember American Motors!) was also sitting on a pier somewhere stateside.  Eventually the household goods and clothes arrived and everything settled down to a kind of normal.]

*  *  *  *
[The period from September to October 1962 when Dad was in Koblenz alone and Mom was in D.C. was the only extended time my parents were separated after their marriage.  (My mom and dad met on New Year’s Day 1945, soon after which my dad, who was already in the army, was shipped to Europe.  The couple corresponded regularly for the next year—they married in January 1946—and Dad later collected their letters and bound them.  I hope one day soon to write a post based on selections from that correspondence.)

[My brother and I made our first trip to Europe, as I’ve said, during Christmas vacation in December 1962.  We were surprised with a trip to Paris for the holiday—my 16th birthday, as it happens—which was an adventure of its own.  (I recount some of that trip in “An American Teen.”)  After returning to the States for the rest of the school year, my brother and I joined my folks in Koblenz in the summer of 1963 to live, going to an international school in Switzerland when the academic year started in the fall.  My parents remained in Koblenz until the spring of 1965 when Dad was transferred to the U.S. Embassy in Bonn as the Cultural Affairs Officer; he was at the embassy until 1967, when he returned to Washington and resigned from USIA.]