One day, I learnt that the soldiers were not provided only with C-Rations, as I had originally presumed.
During the school vacations, I was allowed, as an exception and despite the fact that my grandparents didn't
really approve, to go and watch the Americans in the Grunewald at lunchtime as well, when I would otherwise
have been in school.
Just before noon, a heavy truck which they called "Deuce and a half" suddenly drove up. The soldiers
cheered, ran together and called out "chowtime"! It wasn't sleeping bags or ammunition that was being
handed out, as I had observed on numerous occasions. This time it was large, green, rectangular containers.
Two GIs who had been sitting in the truck, dressed in white, lined the containers up in the middle of the
dirt trail.
Soldiers perched down in front of each one, and the rest of the troops formed a long line behind one
another, each with a tray in his hand. I remained standing nearby and watched them with interest. What
I saw next exceeded all my expectations. As soon as the lids were removed from the thermal containers,
the pleasant smell of roast meat wafted over to me. Full of excitement, I watched every move. When I saw
what was inside the containers, I was speechless! One by one, tender pieces of meat - chicken or roast
beef - as well as vegetables, mashed potatoes, and slices of white bread were placed onto the trays.
Everything was separated into little compartments. My eyes almost popped out of their sockets, I'd never
seen anything like this before! I was so in awe that at first I didn't even notice the soldiers beckoning
me over to them. They pushed one of the silver-colored compartment trays into my hand as well, and nudged
me into their queue. I waited patiently, my hands shaking, until I reached the front of the line. Laughing,
they filled up my tray. The last soldier laid a small yellow carton of milk and a green and white pack of
strawberry ice-cream on top of everything. I felt like it was Christmas & Birthday combined! I sat myself
down between them on the ground and hurriedly ate everything up. As I didn't have any cutlery like they did,
I used my fingers. Who cares?? Boy, was I full!
At home only on Sundays did a small piece of meat appear on Oma's menu. During the week we alternated
between roast potatoes, mashed potatoes, pancakes and stew.
The Americans revealed themselves to be extremely fond of children. Countless times they called me over
to their "feeding crib" or spoiled me with small bars of candy and pastries. "Cookies" was the name for
their biscuits with a sweet creamy filling. Although the soldiers probably had a sweet tooth themselves,
they regularly gave up their sweets if kids or teenagers came up to them. Sometimes, the kitchen trucks
also brought out large trays of cake. The cake came in lots of unusual colors. I tried, usually in vain,
to guess the flavor from the color. But they normally tasted quite different from the way they looked.
That didn't bother me in the slightest, because as far as I was concerned, cake was cake and it was
available for free here in the Grunewald. When I told this story once at school, my classmates, who spent
most of their time on the sports field, didn't believe me and just laughed at me. Well, if only they'd been
there themselves! No matter, I wasn't going to let them spoil my fun.
Candy rain