Berlin 1970 - Winter outside my window
In the pale midday light at 52 degrees North latitude, a grainy black
and white exposure from my window sill in Headquarters and Headquarters
Company, Special Troops catches the wooded portion of Andrews Barracks
in Berlin-Lichterfelde. A footpath cuts through the snow in the center
of the picture. The path led from about Service Company to go around
the end of the building I was in. In the background, looking southeast,
is the modern non-commissioned officers' housing. In summertime,
the trees provided a shaded area adjacent to the sports field. At
any time of the year, the trees were a familiar hazard for helicopter crews
who shared use of the sports field.
The ageless shape of Volkswagen Beetles in the snow. These cars typically
were purchased for $100 by GI's, worked on continuously, and then sold
when the owner rotated back to the U.S. for --- $100. In terms of
depreciation, they were one of the best automotive values in the world.
For those who enjoyed working on their cars, such as my friend A. L. (Tony)
DeVore, keeping the little wonders cranking was an enjoyable pastime.
On the other hand, there were more luxurious cars all around us in the
affluent neighborhoods of West Berlin.
Sometimes the VW engines were pushed too far-- Tony and I once found
a pair of German teenagers trying to drive at Autobahn racetrack
speeds on the Avus route through the Grunewald. Approaching 140-150
km/hr, the engine in their "souped up" Beetle strove mightily to keep up
with the bigger machines, but failed in a loud explosion and a shower of
sparks from its tailpipe. Tony shook his head in dismay as we looked
back and watched them coast off onto the shoulder.
With a clean dusting of snow, even the homeliest autos took on a sculptured
look. As the snow "wore out" it became dirtier and dirtier.
Mixed with coal cinders used for traction, sand, road dust, and then melted
and refrozen, the brief moment of beauty demanded a ready camera.
A pedestrian carrying out a mundane activity, carrying a clean shirt
home from the laundry, could become a part of the timeless scene outside
my window.
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1969.
