Germany ’48 – ’53 A Child’s Tale Part 1

I first went to Germany in early 1948, aged 5. My father, then serving with a County Regiment, had been posted to Dortmund in 47. My mother and I travelled via Harwich to the Hook of Holland and then onward by train. The things that remain in my memory about the journey are that I, along with many more, was sick on the ship, the smell of vomit was everywhere, the journey seemed to take for ever and I was labelled like a piece of luggage. I also remember boarder guards checking passports and papers. All really strange and frightening for mother and child.

I remember very little about Dortmund. I don’t think that we were there for very long. The house we were allocated was huge by comparison to what I had been used to in the UK. The garden was so large we had a gardener. I don’t remember going to school there (perhaps I was too young) .   The house was not in a built up area and therefore a little isolated.

My father, who I had only met the year before, seemed to be away a lot. My mother I remember, was very nervous in the house when he was away. She used to sleep with a pistol on the bedside table. Should she hear a noise at night, the two of us would investigate. Me in front, she behind with the pistol. I was really sad at the time, she never got to shoot anyone. Many years later, my father told me that the gun had never been loaded. Lucky I guess, with me in front, she probably would have shot me!

None of the houses in the area where we lived seemed to have suffered any bomb damage. Nearby the house though, was a field full of destroyed/damaged German military vehicles including, tanks and half-tracks. It was a little boys dream come true, I spent a lot of time playing there. Many of these vehicles still had bit and pieces of military equipment in them. I amassed a really good collection of belts, helmets and bayonets.

We did not stay long in Dortmund, as the Battalion moved to Berlin. The OR’s families completed the move by coach, the Officers families by air. In retrospect, there was a lot of “us and them” in those days! My father had gone ahead and escorted what was to become the last convoy with families into Berlin before it was closed off by the Russian Blockade. My mother and I flew in, in one of the first family flights. I remember the plane was a Dakota. It was fitted out as a troop transport plane. Bench seats down the sides and windows that you were able to open. The luggage was placed in the aisle.

What I remember most of all was that because of the blockade there was no fresh food. The milk
was powdered as were the potatoes, all the rest of the food was tinned. It was during this period, due to the poor diet that I suffered boils on my legs. At one stage, I had fourteen. I hated the daily trips to the MI room to have them lanced and drained. The MO was probably far more used to having compliant soldiers to patch up, as apposed to some screaming child. Like almost all soldiers at that time he would have seen war service. It really must have been a shock to the system, to now be treating wives and their snotty nosed kids!

If there is any interest, I will post Part 2.