![]() |
Honor Page - 13 Guest Authors Excellent history stories from proud veterans |
![]() |
![]() |
THE BERLIN I KNEW
by Pvt George Stone
Detachment C, 11th Traffic Regulation
Group (TRC)
Berlin, 1945 - 1947
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
When I arrived in Berlin late in the Winter of 1945, it was not the Berlin you see today.
There were certain sections of the city that were totally eradicated from the Allied bombing missions.
Yet where I was billeted in Zehlendorf at 16-17 Potsdamer Strasse, you would never realize that
just a short distance away there was man made devastation. Zehlendorf is a suburb of Berlin
where there was no industry or military installations to wipe out.
If you had a thousand marks in your pocket there was nothing you could spend it on. No markets
or Mama & Papa stores nothing absolutely nothing. The average working man's lunch
which he carried was ein Stueck Schwarzbrot, eine Kartoffel und eine Flasche Ersatzkaffee.
All the German civilians tried to work for the American government because they could get a meal
a day at the job or its civilian mess hall.
Yes there were plenty of women to be had, they prostituted themselves for a couple of cigarettes
because you could barter with them. It was easy to get a live in girlfriend as you could rent a room
in a house for a few cigarettes, a can of spam or almost anything that was edible or they could
barter with. Your Fraulein was true to you as she knew you would always bring her something to eat,
cigarette or like I said something she could barter with. You could leave a pack of smokes on the
table and she wouldn't touch one without your ok.
In early fall, 1946 we were moved out of our mansion and relocated in Telefunken
(later, McNair Barracks). No more maid service, back to chow lines, no carpeting on the cold
floor in the cold mornings and foot lockers, it was like back in ground pounding.
One late afternoon the First Sergeant sent me on a detail and I had to have a driver as we had
no more motor pool and I had lost my jeep. We were heading down Teltower Damm towards
Seehof Strasse, the back way to Telefunken. A Deuce came at us with his bright lights on blinding
the driver. I told him to stop but he said he could see and as we got about half way past the truck,
there were two civilians pulling a wagon a few feet in front of the jeep. He jammed the brakes on
and the jeep swerved to the left into the left rear wheels of the Deuce. The wheel was torn off the
jeep we spun around counter clockwise hitting the two civilians and I was thrown from the jeep.
The Six by never stopped. I was banged up pretty badly and wound up in the
279th Hospital. To keep me close to the Hospital I became a medic. I learned how
to take vitals, push pills, and pump penicillin, I was a natural doctor.
By February, 1947 I was still suffering from the accident and had lost 50 pounds. My CO told me
that if I wanted out I could go home early. So Feb 13th 1947 I said a lot of Good
Byes and headed back to the good old Bronx.
I hope you liked the little trip I just took you on and for some of the younger BUSMVA family
who got to the Big B 30 - 40 years later when there were clubs, restaurants, Currywurst stands
and anything that your big hearts desired, as what's his name used to say:
"That's the way it was"




By the way when I last visited Berlin the building right down by the Zehlendorf Bahnhof which
used to be my outfit's employee's mess hall is now a Subway Sandwich Shop.
You would pass a bombed out area and there were elderly and old women chopping the mortart
off the bricks that were in piles, that gave them extra food rations.
There were G.I. mess halls where at the garbage pails where you scraped off your mess kit or
plate, there were small children 3-4-5 years old with a little can or pail begging for the scrapings
to take home to feed the family.

There was no fire wood no more benches to cut up no more trees to cut and very few if any cats.
I don't remember which Lichterfelder Bahnhof the wood and coal was kept but when we go down
to it with a requisition for one or the other there were women chasing the trucks hoping some wood
or coal would fall off that they could take home. We always threw some off for them.
It was a cold, hungry, destitute, broken city that at one time was one of the Jewels of Europe, all
because of a raving maniac. He not only slaughtered the Jews, he also put to death thousands of
Priests, Masons, Gay and Incurable people. Not all the Germans were Nazis by choice, if you knew
your brother was Anti Nazi and didn't turn him in, when they found out they killed him and you.
There are stories where Nazi officers hid Jewish families, fed them and protected them. There were
also Jews that turned in Jews so they could be rewarded and let live. There were also Jews that
somehow managed to survive the Holocaust and went out in the night looking for food, they were
called U Boats.
I was very friendly with some German families and these are the stories that were told to me and
there are books that back up these story so they must be true.
I keep getting jumped on when I see some one load their plate, be unable to finish what they took
and dump it into the garbage. I tell them about the starving little children. I have seen and to them
that was yesterday. By the way they never set foot into my home again. My motto became and still
is over sixty years later, "Take what you want, but eat what you take."
I have omitted a few incidents about the Ruskies, but I will add this. They were not our friends,
Allies on paper only. They were filthy, uneducated, barbaric, and a few other things that I could
only use four letter words to describe. Most of you remember the old expression, "Show me a
good Russian and I will show you a ---- One", -- Nuff said.




It took a long time to get used to civilian life again. A civilian doctor got me straightened out
somewhat but the damage to my back was something I've lived with ever since.
I didn't get back to Berlin for thirty years and wow what a change that was except for the then
East Berlin. I have been back a half a dozen times and every time I say "Last Time" but I guess I'll
be back again in 2010.
Of course I am still kicking and sipping Kartoffelschnaps.





REINHARD, DON'T EVER THROW THE TOWEL IN WHICH IS AN AMERICAN EXPRESSION FOR QUITTING
BECAUSE YOU KEEP BERLIN ALIVE IN MANY HEARTS, KEEP UP THE GOOD WORK, KEEP THE MEMORIES OF BERLIN ALIVE,
HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOUR WEBSITE AND GOD BLESS,
ALTER GEORGE
"The Spooks from Rudow."
by John Quirk
Sergeant First Class
9539th T.U. Signal Service Team, US Army Signal Corps
later absorbed into the Army Security Agency (ASA)
as the 22nd Army Security Detachment, 7222 Defense Unit
Berlin 1955 - 1956

The Berlin Tunnel was BIG news in May of 1956. I had just arrived back at Fort Monmouth, NJ, assigned as a
"field-trained" instructor for "Countermeasures Search and Analysis" students. The course was still taught
at the Signal School, there at Fort Monmouth. On a morning in May, I turned on the old Dave Garraway Show
and, lo and behold, there was our Rudow site on camera and Garraway was excitedly talking about a
"spy tunnel" discovered by the East Germans (STASI). I was flabbergasted but, of course, with OPSEC firmly
in mind, I could tell no one about my involvement with the tunnel.
When we, a high school buddy with whom I had enlisted, arrived in Frankfurt, no one told us anything except
that we were going to Berlin. We boarded the night train, on which we actually shared an expensive compartment,
and off to the North and East we went. Sometime during the night, the train stopped, and we were rudely
awakened and told to standby and have our orders ready. Foreign soldiers, didn't know if they were Germans
or Russians, but later learned they were, indeed, USSR, boarded the train and, in short order, were in our
compartment demanding to see our "papers" ! I don't need to tell you that we were both scared stiff and
could just stand there in our skivvies and hand over our orders in stunned silence. They stamped their
version of "OK" on the orders and the train was allowed to proceed to Berlin. Wow!
At Andrews, everyone seemed equally confused. No one had ever heard of the unit and, of course, had no
idea where it was located. After several hours of guessing and postulating, one of the sergeants said:
"I'll bet its that spook outfit out in Rudow!" Voila! We were shortly in a military sedan on our way to
Rudow. We pulled into a sleepy little farm community and hung a left onto a tarmac road heading out of town.
In short order, we could see the barbed wire fences, the guard booths, and a rooftop antenna field, coming
up at the end of the road. We pulled up at the gate and were met by an armed PFC in fatigues, who
immediately got on the horn; that call produced a lieutenant colonel in khaki uniform who asked us for our
orders. Meanwhile, the sedan we had arrived in made a U turn and made dust away from us.
We reported to the colonel and he said very matter-of-factly, "Oh yes, we've been expecting you for weeks."
"Welcome to the 9539th T.U. Signal Service Team;" and, we entered the gate and went behind the
rows of wire, to our new home away from home.
We soon learned that it was a small unit, about 45 total personnel. The officer who met us was the C.O.
and, at the time, the only other officers were a very boyish-looking 2d LT and a much older Chief Warrant
Officer. At the time there was no First Sergeant and one unit clerk did all the administrative stuff.
The Colonel sat us down and explained the rules of the game which we had just joined.
The unit was operating a Top Secret "Project," as well as a "cover" ELINT operation.
It was so sensitive, that the unit had its own mess sergeant and cooks, mechanics, and pulled all its own
guard duty in addition to either "Project" work or the "cover" ELINT operation. He told us that, due to
OPSEC, he could not tell us anything about the "Project" but, as time went on, if we thought we had it
figured out, to come tell him and he would let us know, at least, if we were correct. As I said, only about
45 men, but so compartmentalized, that each unit function had its own "enclave", if you will.
I was extremely interested in the "Project," and spent a lot of time studying (in my mind) what it could
conceivably be. As luck would have it though, thanks to compartmentalization, I was assigned to the "cover"
ELINT operation and my high school buddy went into the "Project."
As I implied, we began receiving additional personnel. These new guys, at last, gave me all the information
I needed to really figure out what was going on in the Project. One of the newbies was a heating and air
conditioning specialist, who was, on several occasions, seen with wet sand on his legs from the knees down;
another newbie was a linguist trained in the Russian language! The wet sand strongly indicated that this new
guy was digging somewhere under the surface soil since it was dark loam and not sand. What else could
a Russian linguist do except, of course, interpret Russian. This convinced me that the Project was an
underground tunnel and the linguist's working in the Project, coupled with the shape of the packages we
regularly delivered to Gatow , strongly suggestive of cans of audio tape, further convinced me that we had
tapped into some sort of communication lines, probably telephone and radio communications.
I never did tell the CO what I had surmised, but, from then on, went around doing my job and feeling
rather smug.

When we arrived at the Berlin Bahnhof, it was exactly like we had stepped off the train onto a World War II
movie set. The whistles and cacophony of other sounds was instant deja vous to my childhood days in the
movie theaters. We were both awe-struck and wanted to get into the foreign atmosphere as quickly as possible.
We attempted this by buying German coffees and cigarettes; neither of which tasted good but what the heck,
they were "European." We found our way to a military counter where, at least, we recognized the uniforms.
A sergeant there, looked at our orders, scratched his head, and called a captain over. The captain seemed
perplexed, as well, but he made a decision: "Send them over to Andrews Barracks! Maybe someone over
there has heard of the 9539th Signal Service Team."



In short order, I found myself on the guard roster, and, in my free time (aside from the ELINT and guard duty)
I was road-tested on all assigned vehicles , quarter-tons, sedan, 3/4 ton and "Deuce and a halfs" trucks, and
even fork lift. Once this was accomplished, I found myself either driving or riding shotgun on frequent trips
across Berlin to the Gatow Royal Air Force (RAF) base. The trips were always made in Class A uniforms
with side arms. If riding as shotgun, an M-1 Carbine was added to the .45 Colt pistol. The CO always
happened to be the officer-in-charge, when I was along. Don't know if any other officers, we later acquired
two captains as well as two SFC's, ever made the trip, but each trip I went on featured the CO as boss.
He always had a side arm as well. On each trip we carried several large packages, always the same shape,
rounded on both sides, and wrapped in plain brown wrapping paper. These packages were delivered to the
RAF at Gatow, for immediate delivery to London.
We had a very nice dayroom and a well-stocked refrigerator, loaded with Becks and Tuborg beer.
When we were off duty and not on pass, that is where we congregated. I began noticing strangers in odds
and ends of uniforms, coming and going. They were usually good at paying for the drinks whenever they
were in the dayroom. As it turned out, these were either MI6, or CIA people or equipment contractors of
one sort or another.
After several weeks, we had a unit meeting and were introduced to a Brigadier General.
It was kept very informal, but we were told that the 9539th TU Signal Service Team no longer
existed! We were no longer Signal Corps but had been integrated into the Army Security Agency (ASA) as
the 22nd Army Security Detachment, 7222 Defense Unit. The only thing that actually changed
besides our address, was that the cord worn on overseas caps had to be changed. Where the cord had
been orange and white for the Signal Corps, it was now light blue and white for the ASA. After that, if we
were seen in Class A's, we were often taken for Infantry, which wore a solid light blue cord. The Brigadier
General officially welcomed all of us to the ASA and said we were doing a terrific job -- especially,
this made us in the ELINT operation feel really proud! --- the ELINT "cover" in that the ELINT operation,
while a cover, was still a fully operating ELINT site and, as such, had logged more previously unknown
signals in the quarter just finished, than any other ASA site in Europe! How about that!



The security and sensitivity of the missions of the unit were such that we were forbidden to ride the S-Bahn
or the U-Bahn, could not go into the East Zone under any circumstances, and could not even have overnight
passes to Berlin. Passes ran from about 1800 hours to about 0100 hours. We rode into town in a unit vehicle,
usually a three-quarter ton truck, a sedan, or a Deuce and a half. The drop-off point was near the Kaiser
Wilhelm Church and the pick-up point was near Tempelhof. Time on pass was short, but we always
managed to cram a lot of fun into those short hours. The ratio of women to men in 1955-1956 was, if I
remember correctly, around 7 to 1, so finding enjoyable companionship was an easy thing. Most of us soon
acquired girlfriends who we usually saw when we went to Berlin. I was no exception there, but I have to
admit that I met a lot of lovely young women and truly enjoyed myself. Some of the regular hangouts were
the "Casa Leon" on Karl-Marx-Strasse and the "KBS" (Kleines Ballhaus) in Schoeneberg. If we had money
in our pockets or just wanted a little class for an evening, we went to the Resi Bar, (on Hasenheide) which
featured a full orchestra, two floors of tables and /or booths, and a telephone and message pneumatic tube
along with the lit number at each table or booth. When we went to the Resi, it didn't take long for the
phone to ring and /or the tube to make the swoosh sound of an incoming message.
A vivid memory from Berlin concerns a dumb-kid stunt that I and a friend pulled, which could have
easily set off an international incident.
The unit had, before I joined it, acquired two German Shepherd guard dogs, Aldo and Harris. Aldo was
sort of on the scruffy side with a temperament to match, but Harris was a beautiful tan and black
shepherd with a great disposition. In fact, Harris was so friendly, that his value as a guard dog was
probably moot. Anyway, Harris had gone missing and had been gone for about a week.
One very early morning, as I was finishing up an overnight tour of rear guard shack duty, I heard a
dog bark from the other side of the border. For whatever reason, I was certain that it was Harris, so
I trained my glasses on the fence line and eastward and, as I was watching, a change of guard for the
Vopos drove up and they had a dog with them; it was, I was sure, Harris. I watched as they had
Harris jump out of and then back into the truck and it was then that I decided to get our dog back from
the Vopos.
About this time, my friend Al (who had also been in our AIT class at Fort Monmouth), came by and I called
him over. I explained that our dog, Harris, was in the Vopo's truck, which was still sitting near the
fence line. Al decided to join me in this "mission," and we walked up to the border and I yelled at the
Vopos "Sie haben meinen Hund!"
One of them yelled back, "Nein, habe ich nicht!" BTW, I forgot to mention that I was carrying an M1
carbine with a full magazine, because I had just come off guard duty. So, Al and I, ARMED, crossed the
border and confronted the Vopos. When we go to their truck, I called "Harris, come here, boy!" In a flash,
Harris cleared the tailgate of the truck and ran to Al and me wagging his tail like mad, and licking our
hands. I said, again, "Das ist mein Hund" and, with that, Al, Harris and I turned around
and walked back to our fence line and the Vopos stood there gaping, open-mouthed.
All this had occured under the unbelieving eyes of our CO and First Sergeant (who had only been with us
a short time). Needless to say, we got a real dressing down, but, before the CO was done yelling at us,
the First Shirt couldn't stop himself from laughing and, soon, the CO was also snickering. It was only
then that Al and I truly thought about what we had done and were more than a bit
shaken up. The First Shirt finally said: "OK, we're going to let you two skate this time, - but don't you
EVER do such a GD thing again. You two might have started World War III! Is that clear?" In unison, we
answered: "Yes, First Sergeant!" We, in fact, never suffered any disciplinary action because of our
"rescue." and, in fact, became short-term heroes to the group.
This occurred more than fifty years ago, but, as I said, it is till vividly in my memory.
When my orders to return home arrived, I was happy to be going home, but also sad to be returning to
rather hum-drum stateside duty, after the electricity of Berlin, and I have often thought about those
days. They were so long ago; I'll soon be 71 years of age --- and I was only 19 when I went to Berlin.
Exciting days to remember, no matter how old I get.

Berlin Germany 1945
written by
First Sergeant
Peter D'Adamo
Co. A, 3110 Signal Service Battalion
It now is over sixty years when my 3110th Signal service Battalion arrived in Berlin.
There are many vivid images I still have of the destruction I saw of this once beautiful city, and the
miserable plight of the German civilians. The ordinary civilians who were as much as anyone else,
the big losers of everything we normally take for granted. I really believed the American soldier had
sympathy for them. However, I also believed that some of them had mixed emotions about us being there.
We each had just "One days K-Rations", hardly any water, and most of all no sanitation facilities.
The trop train commander requested the Russian military for their permission to use their communication
equipment to contact the U.S. authorities in Berlin, in order to arrange a vehicle transport into Berlin.
His request was denied. At the time, we could not foresee that our experience with the Russians military,
was a prelude to what later became the "COLD WAR" between East and West Nations.
When we finally arrived in Berlin, Company "A" was assigned living quarters in Zehlendorf.
I lived at 66 Moerchinger Str., and the company "A" Orderly room at 71 Moerchinger Str.
When we went to Brandenburg Gate, the American guard was on the "West" side, and the Russian guard on
the "East" side. When the Russian guard saw us, he raised his weapon and pointed it at us. It was quite
scary!
The thing I remember most about my living quarters, was the drinking water available there.
It was highly contaminated. Before I could drink it, I would fill my canteen, drop two disinfectant
tablets in it, and let stand for twenty-four hours. In addition for shaving purposes, the water had
to be boiled, otherwise it would be exposed to skin infections. If I cut myself to my disappointment,
I got a big ugly scab on my face two times. I required medical attention to get cured.
My unit left France for Berlin by train. It was quite an uneventful trip, until we crossed the
German Border. As we approached Frankfurt, the train came to a complete stop. Two Russian officers,
each carrying side-arms, had the train stopped. They insisted that they had the right to board this U.S.
military troop train. We all held our breath, not knowing how far this incident was going.
The train commander, an American Army Major, was able to finally convince the Russians they were
not going to ride with us. Our next contact with the Russian military was at Helmstedt, the city at
which the Russian Zone began. Out troop train was not permitted to proceed into the Russian Zone for
our destination BERLIN. The delay lasted three days! The troops were not prepared for this event.



At that time I was twenty-four years old, and as the First Sergeant responsible for approximately two
hundred enlisted men. They were communication specialists, dealing with the operation, repair and
maintenance of telephone equipment. Company "B" and "C" were also a part of the 3110th.
The former was responsible for the operation., repair and maintenance of teletype equipment and the
latter for pole-line construction, repair and maintenance of "wire".
The mission of the 3110th was specifically organized to render communication support to
U.S. Army combat units.. It's first active support came during the Normandy landings of U.S. Forces.
At a signal center in Plymouth, England, we kept the Beach Head Forces in constant contact with "SHAEF"
headquarters in London. As a result of this operation, the 3110th was awarded a "Meritorious
Service Unit Plaque" by the Allied Command. We next moved to France via Utah Beach in Normandy, and
performed similar duties. We provided communication services to all European combat units, Allied
Headquarters and the Military Command in Washington. D.C.
Some of the sights of Berlin will live forever in my memory, such as:

When I visited Adolf Hitler's underground bunker, and saw the pit outside the bunker in witch he was
cremated.
When I visited Tempelhof Airfield, I saw the Nazi planes lying there in utter destruction. It reminded
me of all the German air raids I experienced while stationed in Plymouth, England.
Also the football game I watched at Olympic Stadium of Berlin, between the 82nd and the
84th Divisions. I don't remember who won that game.


Through the exceptional efforts by Reinhard and his website, these memories will always be remembered.
Although he was not a party to what happened before he was born, it nevertheless shows that former
so-called "Enemies", could be genuine friends again.


Good bye, Berliners!
Greetings from Philadelphia!
Peter D'Adamo.
![]() |
![]() |