Honor Page 21

As I look through the Berlin Brigade site at the many wonderful photos and read the stories from other soldiers who served in West Berlin many memories of my days there flood back. But, after 26 years of military service, 14 assignments and 30 plus years those memories are sketchy and a bit fuzzy.

I was a Recovery/Evacuation Specialist when I received orders in 1969, after an all expense paid trip to Southeast Asia, to return to Germany for my second tour. My first tour sent me to 3/37 Armor in Erlangen, which was cut a bit short by the above assignment, so I thought......I will request to return to the same unit when I arrived at 21st Replacement in Frankfurt.

Cut to the chase.....several of us were taken from the morning formation and interviewed for an assignment to Berlin. "Isn't that behind the Iron Curtain and dangerous" several of us asked. No, one of the old timers said, but after a while you will begin to feel like a ball in a box from bouncing around inside "the wall" and after Vietnam you are going to think you have died and gone to heaven.

When I arrived at Andrews Barracks in Berlin I was sent to C/94 Artillery because their motor sergeant had just rotated back to CONUS. A Sp/5 in charge of a motor pool full of M109 Howitzers (the only ones left in the US Army inventory I was told) and assorted support vehicles and equipment.......that should be interesting and challenging to say the least.

Here is where the fuzzy memory part comes in. The motor sergeant learning curve was really moving at a fast clip so I honestly don't recall going to the local training areas everyone speaks of, even after viewing the pictures on the Berlin Brigade site. Some remote part of my brain tells me I sent mechanics but did not go myself. Or.........maybe C/94 didn't participate at that particular time. Heaven forbid we should scratch the wax job or the 30 coats of paint on the parade guns.

Now, I do vividly recall the trips to "the zone" on the duty train for gunnery training, parades on the 4Ring (too many) and the many celebrations the German people allowed us to enjoy with them.

After missing my E-6 promotion by a few points in 1971 I requested reassignment to the USMLM as the assistant motor sergeant. Best move I ever made in my military career. There was never a dull moment at "the Mission". Someone was always coming or going to or from East Germany and beyond. Then there were regular trips to East Berlin on Mission business. The dollar (& D-Mark) went a lot further over there. We ate 7 course meals with drinks for a couple of dollars. The shopping (in the back rooms of stores) was like a treasure hunt.....crystal, blown glass objects d'art, clocks, etc. And, I can't forget to mention the outrageous gatherings with our Russian counterparts at USMLM-Potsdam/Neu Fahrland (Potsdamer House). Those Russian gentlemen could certainly consume copious amounts of Vodka and remain standing.

I enlisted in the U.S. Army in February of 1956 at the age of 19. After 8 weeks of basic training at Fort Ord, California, I transferred to Fort Gordon, Georgia, for Military Police School. Eight weeks later, 8 graduates of my class were transferred to Fort Monroe, Virginia. It was then Headquarters for the Continental Armies Command. Our duties consisted mostly of on post patrols and security. We were also an Honor guard company and regularly paraded in dress blues to greet visiting dignitaries. After four months of these duties I was selected for reassignment to a 'special agency' out of the Pentagon. That jargon was just military talk for what turned out to be one of many U.S. Army Element Support Groups working out of the Pentagon for one or more groups that utilized military personnel in 'hush- hush' operations.

I had turned 20 when I arrived in Frankfurt to work security in the I. G. Farben Building and other security details, which I never learned anything about. I was told that I was being sent to Berlin to ferry private vehicles over the Autobahn (high way) between Berlin and Helmstedt. I was told that I had been chosen because I was new in Germany and therefore, was probably not known to be connected to any of the people whose cars I would be driving. I later learned that up until this time, off-duty MP's had been used for this work and that there had been a few problems. They wanted one person and that way they would have better control. They packed me up and put me on the night train to Berlin.

My journey to Berlin was as mysterious and stranger than anything I had ever experienced. The train cars were European-style compartmented cars with seats that folded down into beds. While we were told to keep the curtains drawn I did manage to peek out from time to time. At 20, I had not the foggiest idea of where Berlin was, or what the situation was other than a briefing that told me it was 100 miles behind the "Iron Curtain" and surrounded by the Russian Army.

We arrived at around 6:00 am and I was greeted by a couple of MP's who met the train, took one look at my orders, and decided that I needed to come back to Andrews Barracks for chow as nothing else would happen until after 8:00 AM. This begun three days of "getting off on the wrong foot". After chow, I reported to the 1st. Sergeant with my orders. The first problem was that my orders were quite irregular. Most military orders are cut in multiple pages listing several movements of people to and from various locations. Mine were a single sheet with a single order "Private Richard D. Carpenter RA 19555002, is hereby assigned to the 287th M. P. Company, Berlin, Germany 'for rations and quarters only'. That is all they said. The "rations and quarters only" proved to be beyond the ability of the 287^th staff to comprehend. Additionally, I had been told that I was to report to "Colonel Gilroy, the Provost Marshal". This began a three-day tug of war between the First Sergeant, the company commander, and myself. I spent most of the time in the day room where I had been ordered to sit and wait while they attempted to get to the bottom of this problem.

On the third day, I was taken to Berlin Headquarters and the office of Colonel Gilroy, the adjutant general (not the Provost Marshal as I had been told.). He was boiling mad. He wanted to know where I had been for three days. Colonel Gilroy stated that he had considered shipping me back to Frankfurt on the next train. After he had heard me out, and about my run in with the NCO's and Officers at the 287^th, Colonel Gilroy explained that I was supposed to arrive quietly and go about my work quietly. I was given a few details of the work that I was to be doing and told that he did not want to hear any further from me, good or bad, that I was here to solve a problem and do it without noise. I was to pick vehicles up from the Provost Marshals Office and drive them to Helmstedt and leave them to be picked up at the barracks there. I would then either drive a car back or catch the train depending upon the flow of vehicles in and out of Berlin. I was to wear civilian clothes and keep a low profile. I was taken to the Provost Marshals office, where I was introduced to a couple of Lieutenants who were assigned to sign 3, 7, and 14day passes and the like as I needed them (some form of leave orders were necessary to get passage on the train). In addition to pads of blank pass forms I was assigned a huge stack of Russian Translations and shown how to fill them out so as to get through the checkpoints. There was a lady there who would write in a calendar the license numbers of coming and going cars. Cars and keys were to be left in an envelope with the Desk Sergeant at the PMO or in a cigar box at the Helmstedt Office. As it was anticipated that I most likely would have to eat some meals on the German economy, the vehicle owners were to leave a minimum fee with the keys. My first trip was with the lieutenant in charge of the Helmstedt detachment. He briefed me on the specifics of getting through all of the checkpoints, then shipped me back on the night train. Sometime during those first few weeks another problem arose at the 287th. They wanted to issue me field gear and a weapon. By now I could see that this was not going to work, because they would also want to inspect it and I really needed to be free to travel. I do not remember if I contacted Colonel Gilroy or by now I had a number to call whenever there was a problem. This number was used over the next 20 months. I called this number when I was due for PFC and then SPC 3, when they were to have an I.G. inspection of the company including my room and when it was time for me to go home. A lady answered the phone and always took care of whatever problem developed.

After a short time I was joined by Specialist 3 Jenkins. He was career army and pretty much took charge. Jenkins knew how to best take advantage of our somewhat irregular position. By now it was rather common knowledge that we were "spooks" and the company settled down to just accepting the "rations and quarters only". We often would pick up two vehicles at the PMO and be at Helmstedt within two hours. Then we might return in one vehicle leaving still another behind for a return trip the next day. We tended to avoid the train, whenever we could. At this time, only Officers, NCO's, and Civilian Government employees could have private vehicles and the 7Charlie plates that went with them. Our reputation as 'spooks' grew as we were often seen coming and going in different cars at unusual hours. Jenkins was married so I often went out on the town with off duty MP's who after a few drinks would try to get something from me. There were a few things that I could not tell them, but for the most part we just drove vehicles for military and civilian personnel who could not drive through the Soviet Zone because of their security clearances. Any questions that I could not answer, just heightened their curiosity. At the beginning I think this assignment was to be for about six months only. Jenkins had been working to get his wife and a new baby shipped over so when my time was up we negotiated through our phone contact that he would be the first to return to Frankfurt. After he had been gone for a short time, I got a letter from Jenkins. He said that there had been some sort of shakeup in Frankfurt and that I should not try to return. He could not give me the details but elected to take his advice.

My circle of friends included MP's from both the 287^th and from the 272^nd. As I recall, the two companies alternated monthly between 'town duty' and training in riot control and combat duties. Town duty operated three shifts of patrol and Checkpoint Bravo as well as the desk at the PMO. I think they also shared some duties at the stockade. The 'deuce' also operated the Helmstedt facility including Checkpoint Alpha.

After Jenkins left, my best friends were PFC Herbert Brinkman, PFC Howard Hanson, Andy Anderson, Charles Crouch, and PFC Cunningham. At Andrews Barracks we frequented the Stork Club, the Service Club, the pool, the snack bar, and the photo lab. In town we visited all of the G.I. bars including KBS, Bei Lulu's, The Golden Horseshoe, Willies, and most of the others. My favorite was the Eierschale (Egg shell) next to Breitenbachplatz where we spent a lot of time playing a dice game with the owner's daughter at a corner of the downstairs bar. Berlin was expensive and the atmosphere a bit different so I began to spend a lot of evenings in Helmstedt. Most of the evenings there were spent drinking and dancing at the Kahute bar.

In Berlin we visited Strandbad Wannsee, the Ku'Damm, the Zoo, Funkturm and other popular sites. After enlisted men were allowed to have cars we even made a few runs down Karl Marx Strasse drawing a tail of Vopo's before darting back into an allied sector. A few times we took the U Bahn (a no go for us.), to the French Officer's Club where a great meal could be had for a couple of dollars including Filet mignon, wine, escargot, and dessert. We passed up many excellent places such as Charlottenburg Palace and the Dahlem Museum. We did go to a Stan Kenton and Ella Fitzgerald concert at the Zoo Palast and a great Berlin Police Show at the Olympic Stadium. After Jenkins went back to Frankfurt, I carried on without too much trouble other than a couple of times that I had a back-up of four or five cars at Helmstedt. I did make a couple of trips to Hamburg to ship vehicles back to the states. One high ranking officer frequently had me meet him at the Hanover airport. There was no speed limit on the Autobahn other than that imposed by the U.S. authorities and my relationship with the MP's at each end pretty much negated that.

Once the commanding General got a new secretary. I am sure that she would have had a high level security clearance, but somehow intended to drive anyway. I was told to meet her at Checkpoint Alpha. I was instructed that I was to drive her car, she was not to get out, I was to take all of the paperwork in to the Russians. The instructions were very clear. When she arrived in Helmstedt, she was driving a two seat sports car loaded with luggage and no room for me. I suggested that he find someone to come get her luggage. This he did. From that time on, I never had any more problems with M.P. officers or NCO's. The Russians were rather aloof. A few of the officers would comment that I had gone out in a Chevrolet with ski equipment and was returning in a Mercedes Convertible. They would say something like 'did you have a nice day skiing?' or something like that. They often traded cigarettes, one of mine for one of theirs. That was about as friendly as they would get. The Russian enlisted men would bum cigarettes, but only at night and on the side of the checkpoint that was away from the shack where the officer was. Most of the time there was a four to ten minute wait, just to show that they were in control.

I began to spend a lot of nights in Helmstedt. I slept in a spare bunk and then made a round trip to Berlin, changing clothes, getting a shower and coming back for the night. As far as I know, there were only two other regular drivers on the route. They drove for ASA personnel only. These two drove mostly on their off duty time and maybe only a few times per month. I drove for everybody and anybody. Sometimes one of the ASA guys would get a ride back with me because I usually had something going that way. I broke down a couple of times. That was a real pain. You had to send a note to the checkpoint and they would dispatch a wrecker. The wrecker was a tank retriever. From sending the note until you got towed in to the garage and then got home it could easily be 6 to 10 hours. Vopo's would stop by and ask for chewing gum before moving on.

In my first Honor Page story I mentioned a RED ALERT, here I'm going to elaborate on that. It's another little example of the dangerous 'Cold War' situation in West-Berlin and also an example how fast it could have changed to a 'hot' war. There were some funny happenings that night and some things not so funny. According to some newspaper clippings I have, it was on the evening of Nov. 15, 1958 and its seems to me that it was just before the sun went down, at least it all started about that time.

I was in Turner Barracks and in my skivies, on my way to take a shower when I stopped by a friends room to talk. While talking, the CQ, a Sgt in our Platoon stuck his head in the room and yelled: "1st PLT on ALERT !"
This was like 6pm hrs or so, we never have alerts at that time of the day, they are always around 4.30-5am in the morning, so we thought he was joking and didn't pay much attention to him. We continued to talk when I heard some noise outside the door and went to see what was going on. Guys were running in and out of rooms!

I told my friend: "It is an alert !!!" So much for my shower! I ran back to my room and put on some clothes but it wasn't much of a uniform, Fatique pants, t-shirt, field jacket, Class A shoes plus my Crash Helmet and ran for my tank. Our driver (me being the gunner) was right behind me. I don't know where the loader was, he was a bit slow. Frank was saying: "Conrad, this is a practice alert isn't it?" I said to him: "When have we ever had a practice alert at this time of day"? When we got to the tank, Frank our driver and I pulled the tarp off and for once didn't bother about folding it. Frank started the engine and to let her warm up. In those days, 1958-1960, our small arms, .30 cal and .50 cal machine guns, .45 cal grease guns and our personal weapons the 45 cal pistols, were all kept in the arms room. I never could understand that 110 miles behind the Iron Curtain they claimed that we only had 15 minutes most to get out of our Company area before the Russkis started shell it and our weapons were locked up in the arms room!!! There were guys from other Platoons helping us get the weapons in our tanks. Got no idea who handed me the heavy .50 cal machine gun but it never ever wanted to go in the brackets that held it in the tank but this night I gave it one shove and in it went the first try, I couldn't believe it. We screwed the barrel in and it was a GO. Then someone handed me the .30 cal Browning and I put in its brackets and it was a GO too. Our crew ran to the arms room and got our grease guns and .45 pistols and got in our tanks. We were sitting in our tanks when over the radio we heard our Platoon Sgt, SFC Gene Sergeant (known to us as Sgt Sgt) say to move the tanks over to the front gate. The CO's tank was at the head of the line, I've heard a click in my ear phones and Frank asked me: "Conrad, this is a practice alert isn't it?" To which I said: "Frank, when have we ever moved our tanks to the front gate on a practice alert??".

So we moved to the front gate on Huettenweg and was sitting there when Sgt Sgt said over the radio: "Open a can of ..50 cal ammo and load the .50, also, open a can of .30 cal ammo and load the 30 coax and open a can of 45 cal ammo (it was vacuum sealed) and load all the grease gun mags and pistol mags that you have or can find." I heard another click in my ear phones and Frank said: "Conrad, this is a practice alert isn't it?", to which I replied: " Frank, when have we ever loaded all these weapons and ammo mags on a practice alert?".

I'm here to tell you that things were a little tense and I was loading every mag I could get my hands on. I just sat there and kept on loading mags, I had pistol and grease gun mags sticking in every pocket I had! If someone would have shot me I would have blown up like a bomb! Then while sitting there, over the radio, Sgt Sgt said for everyone except the driver to come out and gather around so he could tell us what was going on. We gathered just in front of the barracks and I was facing the Huettenweg (road). Now he has told us the reason, he said that the Russkis had stopped a convoy and would not let them come ahead to Berlin or go back to the Western Zone and we were told to go to get them out and we were only waiting for the MP escort.

He asked if everyone had this and that which we all said we did, then he asked if we all had our gas masks. One guy said he didn't and Sgt Sgt said he didn't have time to go get his own so ask one of the guys that was hanging out the window (must have been about 15 guys watching) to throw him one. Just like someone had given them a command, they all left the window and then as if on command they all appeared and threw gas masks at the guy. He had to dodge them all but he picked up one and waved at the guys. While Sgt Sgt was talking to us I had noticed a VW pull up across the street and a guy got out and stood there watching us. Then we could hear the MP's coming, the old BEE BEEP BEE BEEP siren sounded our way, and that's when suddenly the guy jumped back in his VW and drove away. I'm sure that he was some kind of Russki agent keeping tabs on us.

Sgt Sgt told us to get back in our tanks (one tank driver was yelling: "I'm too short to go to war", he only had a week to go before he went back to the states) and after we got back in the tank he told us over the radio to make sure that we had thrown all the empty ammo cases outside, that we didn't want anything jamming the turret when we turned it. He also said that when we went under the overpass that has the sign saying that we were leaving the American Sector (entering the GDR / Russian zone) to load a 90 MM HE round, and from then on, if something got in our way, to either run over it or blow it out of the way!!

Oh boy, what for emotions! My thoughts ran crazy! My head felt like a roller coaster! --RED ALERT--! Was this my end, the end of all my comrades, was this the fu... step to hell, the small step from the so-called Cold War to a Hot War ?? What happens to my family, to my girlfriend, to my... .??? Shit, what for a damn bull shit !

We sat there for just a few minutes waiting on the MPs, speaking not a word when suddenly over our radio came the order: "Take your elephants back to the barn, they just turned the convoy lose"!

Phew !!

I'm sure the strange guy in the VW must have had a radio of some kind and told the Russkis that we were on the way to kick their butts. I've been told that the guys in the convoy heard our tank engines start up and that it was a comforting feeling to them knowing that we were ready to come to get them.

After parking the tanks we all were headed towards the barracks when our CO told us to gather around and he told us that if anyone asked to tell them that this was just another practice alert. Frank and I found that a little funny. Our CO ask if anyone had any questions and one guy asked : "Sir, if this was a practice alert, why were you in your tank instead of your jeep?" The CO replied: "If there going to be any bullets flying around I'm going to be in that tank, not in my jeep!" He then looked around and said that he didn't see the same uniform on any two guys but at least we were ready to go in record time. Needless to say we all were breathing a little easier when they (Russkis) turned the convoy lose, things were sure a little tense for a while! I had a little trouble going to sleep that night, thinking of what might have been. We did not leave the Company area!!! Just another short story of some of the great times we had in the Great City of Berlin.