There
are places in Germany where you can snow ski year round. Please
note that I am not a snow skier. The ski lodge society and environment is
intriguing to me. I loved the atmosphere at night. Juliana and I
were regulars at the American ski lodge at Garmisch, Germany.
I
had a five-day weekend every two weeks because of how my work was scheduled. I
know that does not sound like the Army, but there were legitimate reasons for
the long weekends. My schedule ran like this: We worked three days on day
shift. The day shift involved taking a briefing statement of highly
classified information to the officer who would be giving the daily
briefing. The briefing statement contained information about the Combat
readiness of Seventh Army, and the combat readiness of the Warsaw Pact
countries. This was vital information for the commies. The Warsaw pact commanders were more concerned about
our assessment of their readiness than about our actual readiness. Their
spies were as good as our spies. The courier; therefore, has to be
armed. I carried, every time I acted as courier, a 45-automatic and a
weapon of my choosing. I chose to carry a 12-gauge shotgun. I chose
it because I had learned that it is highly effective during an ambush situation.
The command base was approximately 23 miles from the A-blast site where we
received the information. An A-blast site is an area where one can survey
a direct thermonuclear blast, or so they say. I provide that nice piece
of information so that you can gain a sense of what was occurring in Germany at
that time. We had several scattered throughout Germany. After delivering
the briefing statement, I waited for approximately one hour to recover the
slides and destroy them. I then returned to the A-blast facility, where I
turned in my weapons, submitted to a body search of my person and my
jeep. If I was not carrying a piece of confidential information and there
was none in the jeep, I was free for the rest of the day. This whole
process began at 6 a.m. and by 10 a.m. I was home free. By noon, Juliana
would come by the A-blast to pick me up and usually, we went to Heidelberg.
After three days off, I would switch to the night
shift. This, to me, was actually the fun shift. During the early
1970s, state of the art technology was the teletype. We had two banks
of fifty teletypes, operating continuously, in the compartment containing the
communication center. You could easily put an entire football field in
the communication center compartment. Upon first entering, you do not
realize that you are underground. The place is so large you feel as if
you are outside. It looks like a small city with banks of compartments
lining the streets. It is easy to get lost in the site. Down
in the center of the earth, the American Army is checking on what is happening in
the world. During the nights, we are receiving information from all
American bases and various ingenious spying operations. Our sources of
information concerning the Warsaw Armies were from taped underwater cables, satellite
photographs, U2, and Black Birds. For me, the most fascinating photos
came from satellites. At that time, the digital quality of the photograph
was not very good. Instead of digital imaging, we received analog high
definition images. That means the satellite took photos with a film
camera. When the satellite flew over Eastern Europe, Russia, and China,
the camera would start taking pictures. When the satellite was above the
Pacific Ocean, it would eject a gold canister containing the film. The
canister would enter the atmosphere and a parachute would deploy. An
American plane would retrieve the canister while in the air. After
arriving in Denver, Colorado for processing, the pentagon and our military
bases around the world would receive copies of the images. My job was to compile
the statistics on the information received and post the slides. All I had
to do was record the number in the correct places since the slides were already
made. At midnight, we stopped receiving formation for the briefing. The
night shift usually involved the statistician being in the communication center
from 12 p.m. to 2 a.m. Normally, I could go through the debriefing, catch
some sleep and get picked up to go to Heidelberg. There was a lot of stress
involved because the commie wanted
the report and would do anything to get it. After I had completed three
night shifts, I earned a five-day pass. All of the previously mentioned
has nothing to do with the story I wish to tell. It is just preparing you
for a new adventure. If I did not share all this information, you
would wonder how I had so much time off while I was in the service.
During
one particular weekend when I had five days off, Juliana informed me that she
wanted to go to a ski resort on the German-Swiss border. The actual
location was in the Principality of Lichtenstein. We love the ski resort
atmosphere. Juliana drives to Tompkins Barracks in Schwetzingen where I
am staying at the time. You can search for Schwetzingen on Google maps, and you
will find Tompkins Barracks. Across the street from the barracks, you
will see a strangely shaped building. This ‘J’ shaped building is the
entrance to the A-Blast facility. Juliana told me that she had something
to show me. She had a new car! It was a dark green K-Type V12
jaguar. I wanted to drive this car, but since it was new, I figured she
wanted to drive it. She said I could drive the car if I would not let anyone
pass us on the Autobahn. When someone passed us, she would then
drive. If someone passed us while she was driving, I get to drive
again. Sounds like a fun game. If you do not know what a K-Type V12
is, it is an XKE with a V-12 engine. The car itself is so light, with
that big engine there is no way to take off without spinning the tires.
We get on the Autobahn at Schwetzingen. Things are going fine for me at
110 miles per hour and no one is passing me. However, Juliana notices a
Porsche is approaching us as though we are standing still. She said, “If
you do not do something quick, I get to drive, and I bet I catch up with him
before we get to Munich.” I down shift
to fourth gear and accelerate. The acceleration is so fast it almost
hurts; I am surprised I do not get a bloody nose. At 160 miles per hour,
I start pulling away from our friend in the Porsche. That is the fastest
I have ever driven a car. During the early 1970s, that was extremely
fast. Of course, at 160 miles per hour, I pass the exchange I need to go
to Munich. We arrive in Munich as the sun is setting and we spend the
night. We drop south the next day to travel to the Swiss border. The
real fun begins as we move into Switzerland. We are now in the Alps.
The
next morning, I am not the designated driver. Juliana will drive through
the mountains. Fine with me, she knows the way. I have never been
there before. To get to the resort one must enter from Switzerland.
There is only one road to the resort, or so we thought. The month is May,
still cool but pleasant. As we begin to ascend the mountains, the weather
changes. The first 4,000 feet is cloudy with some rain. As we climb
to a 5-7,000-feet level, we are in a snowstorm. At 8,000 feet, we are
above the clouds and the weather is clear and extremely cold. These
distances are feet in elevation, not linear feet. I forgot to mention one
very important thing. There are several tunnels on this road, some of
them rather long. The tunnels were somewhat of a relief because the road
has two lanes and one side is a steep snow-covered slope while the other is a
vertical drop-off. I should mention that driving this road in this car
with Juliana driving is more exciting than the worse possible roller
coaster. We were in the snow for about an hour. When we get above
the clouds, the view was breathtaking. These roads in the Alps are not
for the faint of heart.
The
hotel is a fourteenth-century summer castle. This is where the royal
families of Germany and elsewhere spent the summer months. The view is
out of this world; it is almost like looking out of an airplane window.
Some ten-thousand feet below us is the little Principality of
Lichtenstein. The room is something else also. I have never
seen a room that had ceiling-to- ceiling carpeting. Carpeting covered the
floors and tapestries covered the walls. Juliana explains the wall tapestry to
me by demonstrating. She tells me to touch the carpet on the wall and put
my hand on the other side of the tapestry. The rock wall is ice cold but
the tapestry is rather warm. Even though the castle is 14 centuries old,
it has all modern conveniences, such as hot and cold running water and central
heat. I do not know what it was with royal families, maybe all the family
slept in one bed because every castle we stayed in had a bed as big as a house.
The thing I liked about the bed was the two-foot thick down comforter. It
just occurred to me; how did they wash the comforter? I have never seen a
commercial washer that could hold it. Even though it is down-filled,
it must weigh close to a hundred pounds.
The
morning of our second day is bright and cheery. It is snowing so hard
that there is a complete whiteout. The snow covers everything. No
one is skiing as everyone is lounging around in the lounge. Is that
redundant or what? It is fun to watch the people. At the ski
resort, the society is rather democratic. Well, perhaps not. A
person’s skiing skills dictates the social order. The super-advance skiers or
Olympic hopefuls are together. In this group are super wealthy and some
that own nothing more than their skis, their boots, and their ski suit.
At the resort, they are the best of friends. Juliana and I are with the
non-skiers. We are here for the social events. There has to be a
reason to drive all this way other than watching the snowfall. The
snow is falling at the rate of a foot per hour. Disaster is
looming.
The
third night, it is cold beyond belief. The
only warm place is under the comforter. At two in the morning, the
loudest and most annoying alarm sounds. I hate getting out from
underneath the warmth of the comforter, but the noise is truly deafening.
When the alarm stops, the most obnoxious high-pitched voice blares over the
intercom. The voice requests that all guests collect in the main lobby,
in about twenty different languages. We pull on our snowsuits and go to
the main lobby. We are told, to our relief, that the hotel is safe. Of
course, there is the ominous “but.” There has been an avalanche that has
completed blocked the road. Avalanche detritus now fills the tunnels I
previously mentioned. A snow avalanche is not just snow; it is a turbid current
picking up soil, rocks, trees, and buildings. It may take several days or
even a week to open the road. Ouch, I only have two more days. I
will be considered AWOL if I do not get back. I am in a world of
hurt. The manager informs us that as soon as the snow stops they may be
able to get helicopters in to take us off the mountain. (Of course there
is once again the “but”) they do not expect the snow to stop for several
days. Then came the biggest “BUT” ever, there is an old road leading off
the mountain. The resort will send a snowplow down the road and anyone who
wishes to follow the plow can do so at his or her own risk. Several
people decide to take the risk. We are in that group. We load up the car
and get ready. We are given some very strict rules to follow as we descend
the mountain. The rule that tormented me the most is to watch
the snowplow’s lights, do not watch the car ahead of you. Under no
conditions should you take your eyes off the snowplow. If the car in
front of you or behind you goes off the road, do not try to stop and render
aid. There are places where the drop off is over 1,000 feet straight
down. It you are distracted from the snowplow you could end up going off
the edge. Keep your foot off the brake and do not lock your wheels.
This is just wonderful. We have to sign a waiver so that the hotel is not
responsible. The snowplow goes five miles per hour on a good day.
This would not be a problem except Juliana’s new car is designed to travel at Autobahn
speeds. We are somewhat lucky that we are the first car behind the
snowplow. It takes three hours to descend the mountain.
Everyone makes it in one piece. No one falls off the edge. It is a miracle,
because in many places one could see the road was carved from solid rock on a
sheer cliff. We celebrate when we arrive at the bottom. Everyone
except Juliana, she seems depressed. I try to get her to talk and she
refuses to talk about it. Finally, after we find a hotel for the day and
night in Lichtenstein, she tells me the problem. She asks, “You hate me
now, do you not?” My response is, “What! Why would I hate you?”
“Because of all the trouble I caused you. We could have been killed or you
could have gotten into trouble with the military and they put you in
jail.” I had to laugh, “This was one of the most exciting things I have
ever done, and I would not have missed it for the world.” This smoothed
everything over. We slept until one that afternoon. We took a tour
of Lichtenstein and had a history lesson. This country is still somewhat
living in the fourteenth century. That is its charm and income.
Tourism is the main industry. The country is beautiful. It lies within a
valley between two mountain ranges that are about 10,000 feet above the valley
floor. That night all of the survivors of what we now refer to as the
“Great Descent into Hell” meet for supper and drinks. That night I
discovered the power of the German liquor Jagermeister.
I really do not know how to say what happened that night.
There
are, of course, morals to this story.
1. The climb down sometimes spoils the
view from the top.
2. If the road up is bad, the road down
is not going to be any better.
3. When someone tells you the good news
and ends the sentence with the word 'but,'
you know there is no good news.
4. Four Jagermeisters tops two Viagra any day or night.
5. It is possible, believe me, it is
possible and no one is chafed. You will not get this but It has to do with two hours and number 4.
6. There are times when it is better
not to watch the clock.
7. If you have to list the reasons that
you are friends with someone, maybe you should reconsider.
©2012
Michael L. Wright
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