One Day in East Berlin, 1984
by Robert Thomas
March 15, 2023
In 1984 I was alone in East Berlin, in a stare down with three busloads of East German soldiers.
My white tennis shoes and Levi’s blue jeans clearly gave me away as an American. I was a young adult, a solo backpacking tourist in East Berlin. While there I decided to explore the Fernsehturm Berlin Tower, the tallest landmark inside East Berlin.
Although I was successful in finding the tower, I approached the tower from its back alley. That alley was narrow and dark as no sunlight could enter it. Nobody was in the alley – except me and the 150 German soldiers I discovered there.
In silence, I slowly walked up the alley toward the back entrance of the tower. I was walking in the same direction as the three bus loads of East German soldiers. The soldiers did not notice me until I entered their peripheral vision on their left hand side. The soldiers seated in the back row of the last bus spotted me first. Then the soldiers seated in the row in front of them saw me. Row after row of soldiers turned towards me, like falling dominoes. Seemingly all the soldiers eventually met my gaze, glaring at me over their left shoulders. We were no more than 10 feet apart. Our jaws tightened. Nobody blinked.
These soldiers clearly seemed to despise me, and at that moment, even outnumbered, I despised them. Fittingly, the year was 1984. George Orwell had somehow set the stage for mortal enemies to come face to face that day, only to realize they were not actually enemies.
Forty years earlier, in World War II, and not too far from that alley, my father was in Germany. As a 19 year old US Army officer, my father fought to the death against the uncles and fathers of these German soldiers. In fact, even on that summer day in 1984, all of East Berlin was still pockmarked by 40 year old bullet holes. It was not lost on my father in WWII, nor on me at that moment, that my family is of German (and Scottish) ancestry. What a thought – a civil war of sorts with brother killing brother. One brother fighting for the freedom of others while the other brother fought for fascism, communism’s first cousin.
In that alley, I do not recall if it was me or one of the 150 German soldiers who first smiled.
But someone smiled.
In a moment, we went from being hostile adversaries to young men with no grievances among us. The man-made political wall that existed to divide us immediately vanished. Silently, we all smiled and enthusiastically waved to each other. The soldiers were too disciplined to speak, and I was too relieved to have spoken.
My spirits lifted by the encounter of fellowship, I made my way in to the tower. The only place open to visitors in the tower was a brightly lit, sparsely furnished basement bar. I befriended the sole patron of the bar, a Soviet officer standing at the linoleum counter. A lonely, and empty, shot glass sat in front of him.
The only Russian words I knew were “da” and “vodka.” So of course, I used some of my worthless 35 East German Marks to buy both of us an afternoon shot of vodka. We parted with a sincere salute and yet another smile. I then bought a couple communist propaganda souvenirs because vodka, inedible grey meat, and worthless trinkets were the only things for sale in East Berlin. If you wanted to paint a picture depicting despair, you would paint East Berlin on that summer day in 1984.
I eventually headed to Check Point Charlie and the Berlin Wall. The Berlin Wall that contained the repressed and prohibited freedom. Yet another artificial, man-made obstacle dividing us. If communism was so wonderful, I wondered to myself, why would it need a massive wall and armed guards to contain its citizens?
To my surprise and trepidation, my adventure in East Berlin was not then ending. I was immediately detained at Check Point Charlie. My clean shaven face did not match the college student beard I wore on my passport photo. At that age, I thought my scholarly looking beard looked quite handsome. But the discrepancy between my bearded face in the photograph and my clean-shaven face generated only alarm among the East German guards.
Those following minutes were perhaps the most lonely minutes I had known in my short life. I could see the freedom of West Berlin through the windows of the enclosed checkpoint, but the soldiers would not let me pass. As an American, the thought of the East German government deciding my fate was frighteningly real to me. The thought of anyone limiting my freedom of speech or movement was then completely unknown to me. You do not know the feeling of vulnerability until armed soldiers restrain your freedom in a foreign land.
After the guards made a few phone calls, the soldiers eventually let me pass back to West Berlin – and freedom. Although my 150 new soldier friends remained behind, they would soon taste freedom when the Berlin Wall fell several years later as their repressive system collapsed upon itself.
This story of my day in East Berlin reminds me of how many Americans feel when they interact with each other now. Today there is a different artificial, icy wall that separates us. On one side of the wall are those who feel as though they cannot exercise their freedoms for fear of being politically incorrect, a communist concept. On the other side of the modern ice wall are those that will not tolerate dissent or even humor that may offend.
Perhaps now is the time for the smile, the acknowledgment that we are all brothers and sisters, and not adversaries. As George Orwell prophesied, perhaps the differences among us are simply contrived for political purposes. Maybe now we can recognize that we have so much in common, including our love of freedom, that the artificial ice wall that separates us will also collapse of its own weight.
Perhaps then we can all enjoy a vodka together and warmly salute each other as reunited brothers and sisters.
-30-
Robert Thomas is a freelance author and amateur improviser.
Comments 18
Nice article. My father was stationed in Berlin in 1953/54 before the wall. He said that you could sneak over to the east via some alleys and that they did so regularly [except around May Day] since the beer was cheaper there. Also, that many of the ‘Russian’ soldiers were actually Poles and that when a Russian officer visited them at Spandau Prison [joint guard detail] he threw a fit when he saw his men talking to the Polish Americans in my father’s squad. They [the Americans] were rotated out the next day.
A beautiful and well written piece. Thank you, for sharing. It’s a lesson anyone can/should learn from.
Nice piece. At times I think of the Pledge of Allegiance I repeated daily in school. “One Nation. Under God, Indivisible” Sadly we have devolved from that. We had a wake up call in 2001 that reunited us for a short while then it was back to tribal/identity politics. Please especially in the mayoral runoff, vote. Think thru WHO will bring back civility and not condone the lawlessness and poor schools that have pushed it to the brink of a Detroit. Not the color of one’s skin but the color of one’s character. How different this country would be if JFK, and MLK had not been lost to an anarchist’ bullet.
I no longer live in Chicago by choice. Pritzger doesn’t care if taxes are raised. He has unimaginable wealth yet pulled the toilets in the Gold Coast townhouse to scam the system. Some example. Yet another version of Urbs in Horto which translates not to “City in a Garden” but “where’s mine”!
“Ubi mea est’ (where’s mine)
👍👍👍
A smile is universal. Music is universal. Kindness is universal. It is time to remember the simple things.
Thank you, Robert Thomas for sharing.
This column reminds me of my visit to Checkpoint Charlie and East Berlin on August 13, 1962, the first anniversary of the Berlin Wall. People with suitcases were waiting on the East side for a miracle that would open the wall and allow them into the West. Of the many memories of that day, what sticks out is the love the East German people showed for Americans. When the Wall opened I thought of those people I saw and met who were finally free.
Good column. Brought back memories of going behind the Iron Curtain in ’72. College kids visiting Budapest. Seeing the barbed wire, machine guns, being followed and so much WWII damage. My Levis and plaid coat made me a neon sign in a sea of dark clothing and zombie-like locals.
Now, civility here is bad, but I don’t think as bad as the ’70s. Then, both sides were yelling and shooting at each other and trying to resolve problems by burning down cities and looting TV sets. Now it’s like we’re all sitting in the bleachers with our opposing teams on the field. We can make noise but each individually have little influence on the outcome. Yell the wrong thing and the shared beer will be on your shirt.
“As George Orwell prophesied, perhaps the differences among us are simply contrived for political purposes.”. Very well put. Today we are inundated with statements from our political leaders that we are “deplorable” “cling to our guns and religion” “anti-woman”, “racist” etc…etc… and the list goes on.
The “wall” is politically contrived so that weak wannabe leaders can appear to be effective and decisive; with a warped sense of respect at whatever the cost to the people of a nation.
Great message. Needs to be relearned by many!
“…George Orwell prophesied, perhaps the differences among us are simply contrived for political purposes.”
Not to split hairs, but that was a conclusion – and it was 100% correct!
I appreciate your optimism, but that smile will be seen by those on the other side of the wall as an indicator if weakness, and they will seize on it like lions on a wildebeest on the African savannah.
They have no interest in reciprocating, and the rest of us are best off pushing back when and where we can.
No, on one side is a newly defined version of Conservatism defined by intolerance and Christian Nationalism, one that generates ‘freedom’ by banning books, ideas, lessons or institutions that don’t align with that narrow world view. On the other side is a version of Liberalism that, admittedly, is fueled by any idea that might offend, even if it doesn’t offend that individual. Then there are the majority of us, standing just left or right of center, who speaks for us?
My husband, daughter and I crossed through Checkpoint Charlie in early 1981 with the fore mentioned 35 East German marks which had to be spent there because they were worthless elsewhere. It was a grim, colorless landscape and finding a place to spend those marks was difficult. A bland meal at a dismal hotel made those marks disappear. What a relief to pass back through the checkpoint after the required investigation of our car including the undercarriage.
After a week in East Germany as an 18 year old, I too was in East Berlin. I remember looking longingly at West Berlin through the Brandenburg gate – so near but so far. Most memorable and the biggest impression I had was meeting Soviet soldiers on leave at a hostel. One had a guitar. We shared bread and sausage and sang Beatles songs. No different than me. Perhaps the greatest thing I ever learned. The last two paragraphs of this article ring extremely true to me.
It’s up to all of us to look for similarities rather than be misled and betrayed by differences served up by unpatriotic and self-serving politicians.
Gin
Not vodka
Thanks for the wonderful story. In 1971, I went through Checkpoint Charlie as a student. I had a meal of a wurst and a thin beer standing at a kiosk next to an East German soldier. No words were exchanged. As I was walking back to the checkpoint, I remembered that it was unlawful to take East German currency out of their country, so I used a little money to buy a souvenir postage stamp. I then dropped my remaining coins on to the grass near the exit, hoping that some kids would find it. When I exited the subway back in West Berlin, the contrast of the well-lit business district with the drabness of East Berlin was something that I will always remember.
I was rollerblading in East Berlin in September 1992. Buildings were still had bullet holes. Capitalism isn’t perfect but all you needed to do was compare and contrast the two sides of the Brandenburg Gate to see which one was better for the common man.
Thanks for writing, Robert.
I was a kid when The Wall went up.
WWII had ended less than 20 years before.
For years it was frightening to read about it and see it on TV.