A German Imperial City With a 1,000 Year History
How I fell in love with Nürnberg
I'm back, I took a break yesterday, writing is hard work! Today I would like to talk about another experience when I was young that was a major influence in shaping my world view and the future of my life, my passion for travel, my passion for new experiences, and my desire to live in other countries and cultures. I talked about going to Europe several times when I was young and how that opened my eyes to the big world we live in, this was the next vital and informative step in my life that got me where I am today. And it led to the discovery of another one of my favorite cities in the world, Nürnberg.
I graduated from high school in 1973. I knew the summer after my graduation would probably my last chance for a carefree, good time summer vacation, so I didn't do anything but go to the beach, hang out with friends, and generally have fun all summer. I didn't know what I wanted to do with my life yet, but I knew that I didn't want to head straight off to college like my brother did, and my sister did earlier. I was tired of school. So I went to the Pennsylvania State Employment Office and applied for a job at GE. At that time the GE plant employed nearly 14,000 people. The state office said there was an opening for a job making copper parts. It wasn't the most desirable job, but is was a job at GE with good pay and benefits. So I took the paper from the employment office and went to the GE employment office. The person there told me the copper parts job had been filled but they had an opening in a new program to train machine operators. I said sure, I'll take it and they told me I would be trained to operate a turret lathe, a traditional manually operated metal turning lathe with some additional parts to enable the efficient turning of the same part repeatedly. The following Monday, I reported to building 13, part of the DC Motor and Generator Division (DCM&G), a big part of the manufacturing at the Erie plant at that time. They produced DC motors from about 200 hp up to 10,000 hp as well as DC motor-generator sets for use in giant strip mining shovels, elevator motors, other industrial motors and even motors for nuclear submarines.
There were about 12 young guys like me and we were to be trained to operate various various machines; lathes, milling machines, drill presses, etc. We spent some time in a class room and a lot of time turning round pieces of metal into metal chips. I had never been in a large factory building before and it was interesting. Machines of all kinds working every where, the smell of cutting oil and hot metal and a smoky haze hanging high above, near the roof. I learned the basics of operating a regular lathe, how to use tools like indicators and micrometers, and how to cut metal to exacting tolerances down to a few 10,000ths of an inch. To a point it was interesting and challenging. After a couple of months I was sent over to building 17 next door, and paired with an experienced turret lathe operator to learn the intricacies of that machine. It was far more complicated than a regular lathe. I grew a little frustrated and I figured out that being a machinist was not the life for me. I saw a lot of older men standing in front of the same machine they had been working on for 20 or 30 years and they had that blank '1,000 yard stare'. They worked hard, they made a good living, they were every skilled and took care of their families but the dull repetition of the work, and coming home every day covered with grit and cutting oil had taken its toll on them. I quickly realized I didn't want to be that guy in 30 or 40 years. So I talked to my instructor and he agreed that my heart wasn't in this kind of work, and I got an open transfer which meant I had one week to find another job at the plant, or I would be out on the street looking for another place to work.
I went back to the plant employment office and they had an opening in building 12, to be an assembler, putting together electric commuter train car sets that were used in the New York City, New Jersey, Connecticut, Philadelphia metro area. I had a brief interview with the foreman at station 4. Luckily for me, an older guy I had known in high school worked at station 4 saw me, and put in a good word to the foreman about me. The next week I started a new job in building 12. I have always loved trains and I was happy to get a job building them. It was cleaner than the machine shop, and because it was a relatively new operation at the plant, most of the workers there were young. I enjoyed the work for the most part. We had a certain amount of tasks to perform at our workstation, putting in insulation and floors in the cars, adding parts of all kinds here and there and everywhere, inside, underneath and on the roof of the cars. It wasn't too boring as we all did many different tasks individually or in teams, before the car would move to the next workstation and a new one would come to ours. The building was massive, there were 4 parallel assembly lines with 9 workstations on each line. Each car was about 70 feet long, and at any given time there were 36 cars in various stages of assembly at any given time, so you can imagine the size of the building. Because we were mostly young men, you can imagine there was a lot of playing around. The car shells were stainless steel and there were a lot of sharp metal edges everywhere. I think I left some of my blood in ever car I worked on! One day I tore a chunk out of my finger and had to go to the infirmary on the grounds of the factory for a repair job. I left a lot of blood in the car that time. I still have the scar.
During the year that i worked at GE, a good friend of mine was talking to an Army recruiter and I went with him a few times. The recruiter was a cool, funny sergeant, an infantryman Vietnam veteran from Brooklyn, NY, and our visits became more frequent. My friend enlisted and off he went. I stopped by the recruiting office a few more times. I thought seriously about enlisting. It was 1974, the Vietnam draft had ended the year before, luckily about 7 months before my 18th birthday. Now with the threat of being sent to Vietnam being over, the recruiter offered "Fun, travel and adventure" which sounded interesting to me. I went to Buffalo, NY to take the exams and physical. I scored very well in the exams, in the top few percent. The recruiter offered me a job in electronics repair as a part of the Army Security Agency (ASA), the folks that gather intelligence on the enemy by various means. It all sounded very interesting and exciting but it required a 4 year commitment. I wasn't ready to make kind of commitment, what if I didn't like the Army? So the recruiter offered me a 2 year enlistment with a guarantee to go to Germany, and the Army would chose my job. I thought that was a fine plan. When I told my parents about it, they were not at all happy. My father had been a soldier in WW II, actually in the forerunner to the ASA, he worked with radios intercepting the German radio frequencies and things like that. My mother lived in Rome, Italy during the war and endured the German occupation of Rome and occasional bombing raids, so I understood their reluctance to see me go in the Army. But I was stubborn and I told them I was going to do it. So in the middle of August in 1974, I raised my right hand, swore an oath to protect and defend the Constitution of the United States, and off I went off to Basic Training at Fort Know, Kentucky. That was an experience I will cover another time in more detail. It was 2 months of exhausting, intense, physical and mental hell. But at the end I learned a lot about my limits, learned something about discipline, the power of teamwork, and how to shoot an M 16 rifle and I was proud of myself for surviving it all when I graduated. On the day of my graduation, I got my orders for my school and I found out the Army decided I should be a baker! I went to Fort Lee, Virginia and spent 2 months in baking school, 5 days a week, 8 hours a day of learning how to bake anything and everything in quantities large and small. It was more relaxed than Basic Training, we had weekends off and I enjoyed it. I graduated number 2 in my class of future Army bakers.
I graduated from baking school right before Christmas so the Army allowed me to take some leave and I needed to report to McGuire Air Force Base in New Jersey for my flight to Germany about a week after the New Year holiday. I would receive my duty station assignment in Germany once I was there. I relaxed at home, regaled my friends with tales about Basic Training, proudly wore my combat boots with blue jeans and prepared for my trip to Germany. On the appointed day, I said my goodbyes to family and friends, maybe wiped a tear or 2 out of my eyes and my father drove me to the airport in Erie for a flight to New Jersey. I got to McGuire Air Force Base, signed in at the terminal and late that night along with a couple of hundred other soldiers I boarded a chartered Overseas National Airlines Boeing 707 for the 8 hour flight to Germany. Since I had flown across the ocean to Europe a couple of times already, I knew what to expect on the flight, most of my fellow passengers had never made such a long fight before. The next morning we arrived a bit sleepy, wrinkled and jet lagged at Rhine Main Air Force Base outside of Frankfurt, Germany. The air base shared the runways with the civilian Frankfurt airport. The air base was one one side and the civilian terminal was on the other side. We were processed through the military customs and immigration formalities and we were loaded on a bus with the 2 duffle bags that we were authorized to bring, with all of our military and civilian clothes in them, among other things. It was already shaping up to be an adventure. The bus took us into the middle of Frankfurt to a large, old red brick building. We drove through a guarded entry arch and into a large cobblestone square formed by the 4 story building's walls. It was a rather foreboding looking place, and later I found out why. What a welcome to beautiful Germany!
They herded us off of the bus, we found are bags in the mountain of identical bags in the courtyard and were ushered into a gym inside of the building. We sat in some bleachers and they gave us a little orientation as to where we were and what would happen there. As we sat there sleepy eyed, hungry and desperately in need of a shower and some rest after our flight, we were told that were the guests of the 21st Replacement Station, and welcome to the Federal Republic of Germany, the formal name of West Germany at the time. We were told that we would receive our duty station assignment here and then we would be bussed to the location. They informed us that we could be there a few hours, up to a few days. This was before computers were used for everything, so there was a lot of paperwork, typing, and phone calls involved in finding us a place to go. They informed us that the Army base we are at was a Gestapo prison during WW II. I couldn't help but think that that was one hell of an introduction to life in Germany for the next 19 months! I would soon learn that virtually all of the US military installations in Germany were former German military bases built for world wars 1 and 2. At this time the Cold War was at it's peak and there were about 300,000 US military people in Germany to keep the Soviets at bay and protect Western Europe from the Red hordes. We were told we were on the front lines of freedom and the enemy wasn't far from us. As they say "Shit was about to get real." Next they proceeded to call some names from a list and some lucky soldiers grabbed their bags and headed out for their bus. Then they proceeded to assign us to large bays with about 60 soldiers in big rooms full of bunks. Lastly they read off names for a duty roster for the new arrivals to perform necessary, menial tasks. I heard my name, and I was assigned to be the baggage room guard from 2 a.m. until 6 a.m. Oh, lucky me! Then they released us to get some chow, get cleaned up and told us we were not to leave the compound, that we were in a bad part of town and danger awaited new arrivals to the country. So I got clean, got some food and then tried to get a little rest until my guard duty at 2 a.m. At the appointed hour, I went to the cellar to the baggage storage area, a hallway lined on either side with rooms with iron barred doors where our duffle bags were kept. At the head of the hall was a folding metal chair for my comfort. The hallway had a brick arched ceiling, the light was dim and near my chair was a fuse box, with old Gothic lettering that said "Prison Fuses." I have to tell you, that for a 19 year old, tired kid, with an active imagination, it wasn't the most pleasant 4 hours I've ever spent. I think the only thing that kept me from falling asleep on the job was the sound of the prisoners anguished cries while the Gestapo did whatever they did to them echoing in my fevered brain. I was quite happy when my relief arrived at 6 a.m. I wished him luck and got out of there quickly. I was at the 21st about 3 more days, I got to pick up litter and other simple tasks, but no more guard duty luckily. They finally called my name at the daily formation in the gym and I found out that I was assigned to the 33rd Field Hospital in Würzburg, Germany, about 75 miles (120 km) east of Frankfurt in the German sate of Bavaria.
I boarded a green Army bus with other soldiers and we made our way east stopping to drop soldiers off at other Army bases on the way to Würzburg. After a few hours the bus dropped me off at the entrance to the hospital in Würzburg, on top of a hill overlooking the city, with a nice view of vineyard covered hills across the Main river. The 33rd Field Hospital, in spite of it's name, wasn't going anywhere. It was composed a large, solid, white building and several smaller buildings. I went inside and found the Orderly Room the nerve center of any Army unit. The Orderly Room is where the soldiers of their unit tracked, administrative matters dealt with, and is the home of the company commander, usually a captain in charge of the soldiers for administrative purposes. To explain briefly, in the Army you have 2 chains of command in a non combat unit. You belong to a company, in the case of the hospital all of the soldiers belong to the medical company, they are responsible for your care and feeding and the endless paperwork and record keeping. Then you have your work chain of command, your immediate supervisor, usually an NCO (noncommissioned officer, a sergeant) and then the higher bosses, at some point usually an officer. They are the folks that you work for. I went into the orderly room, told them I was assigned to the hospital, gave them my records and did everything I needed to join the unit. Then somebody took me to the dining facility where I would be working. I met some folks, greetings all around, welcome aboard etc., and I found out that two of my fellow baking school graduates had already been assigned there so it was nice to see some familiar faces. Then somebody took me to my room in the hospital where I would live. It was a nice airy room with large, tall windows, 4 beds and wall lockers, and some desks and a sink but no shower or toilet, those were don the hall. The soldier showing me around pointed to one of the beds and said it would be mine. I pointed to the bed next to mine where some boots and shoes were lined up under it in good military fashion, and asked who my neighbor was. The soldier said, "Oh, that's private Jones, but he's gone. He jumped out of the window yesterday." I glanced at the large window nearby and thought wow, first I spend 4 days in a former Gestapo prison, now I come to a beautiful little city and a nice hospital, and I find out one of my roommates jumped out of a window. Then I realized we were on the ground floor and the window sill was about 2 feet above the grass outside. Somewhat relieved, I shared my observation with the soldier. He told me that Pvt. Jones was a little strange and that he hadn't been seen since his flight out of the window, and that when he showed up he would be evaluated by the psych people. I couldn't help but think that my first week in Germany was certainly shaping up to be a very interesting experience, and I wondered what else would happen. I didn't have to wait long.
After about 3 days of getting settled in and generally relaxing, I was told because they already had 2 new bakers, I wasn't need in Würzburg. They were calling around Germany to find out who might want a new baker. It turns out that at the time the only place bakers were authorized, was in fixed hospital facilities, which meant I would go to another hospital in Germany. The next day they told me that the 130th General Hospital in Nürnberg said they would take me off of their hands. So once again, I packed my bags, and I was driven to the Würzburg bahnhof (train station) in an ambulance, the only vehicle available, and dropped me off at the main entrance and drove away. I stood there on the sidewalk with new orders for Nürnberg, a voucher for a train ticket, and 2 heavy duffle bags. I hadn't been in country for even 2 weeks, I didn't speak any German, and I had no idea what to do and I was on my own! As Alice in Wonderland said, and whom I started to feel some kinship to, "Curioser and curioser." So Like Alice, I bravely forged on and went into the station.
Würzburg is a fairly small city so the bahnhof wasn't too big. I saw a row of ticket windows, went to one and shoved my voucher under the glass window to the ticket clerk. He said something in German and pointed down the row of windows. After a couple of more tries with the same result, I got to a window where the clerk looked my paper, stamped it, typed on some keys and handed me a small cardboard rectangle with Würzburg printed at the top and an arrow pointing down to Nürnberg on the bottom. The ticket also had a number 2 printed on it and the date. Being a clever guy and having made some train trips in Italy, I recognized that I now had a 2nd class, one way train ticket to Nürnberg. Then I found the timetable on a nearby wall, figured out how to read it and found the departure time and track number for my train, which left in about 45 minutes. I went to the correct track, and at the appointed time a train arrived and I boarded a 2nd class car, found a seat and settled in. Nürnberg was also about 75 miles (120 km) from Würzburg, so I had some idea how long the trip would take. As we passed through the beautiful, green, hilly Bavarian countryside dotted with little villages and farms just like a picture post card, I started to wonder if I would spend my 19 months in Germany shuffling from Army hospital to Army Hospital, 75 miles at a time. I was 19 years old with a healthy sense of adventure and I was ready for anything. When I left Würzburg, they told me that they had told the hospital in Nürnberg to expect me in the early evening at the bahnhof. I was told the folks in Nürnberg would collect me at the bahnhof and take me to my new duty station.
After a few hours on the train, my pleasant journey ended at the Nürnberg bahnhof. I got off of the train with my 2 heavy duffle bags and made my way into the station. Nürnberg is a city of half a million people and is quite a bit larger than Würzburg. The station was bustling with activity with people going all directions, a few American soldiers mixed in with the crowd. I made my way to the main doors of the station and looked eagerly for a soldier to find me. It was a long wait. After a few hours, being a clever guy, I figured either somebody lied to me or that the hospital in Nürnberg forgot about me. I flagged down a passing soldier and asked him if he knew how I could contact the hospital. He told me my best bet was to go to a US military hotel across the street cleverly named the Bavarian American hotel where I could call the hospital on the military phone system. He took me to the doors and pointed it out to me. I dragged my bags across the busy square in front of the bahnhof, dodging cars, buses and street cars and went into the hotel. There was an old man at the desk and I asked him if he had a phone so I could call the hospital. He glared at me and suspiciously asked me in heavily German accented English if I was sure it was to the hospital. I told him indeed,, that was where I wanted to call. He reluctantly shoved a phone over the counter to me. Then I asked him if he had a phone number to the hospital orderly room. Once again he glared at me and muttered something under his breath in German as he dragged out a Nürnberg Military Community phone book and looked up the number, muttering darkly the whole time. He gave me the number and I dialed and a soldier answered. I explained who I was, where I was and said that they received word to expect my arrival and I need a ride to the hospital. The soldier said they were on night duty in the office, that nobody told them about me when they came on duty and that there was nobody available to come and get me. He suggested I stay at the hotel and I could get a ride the next morning. One little problem was that I only had a few dollars in my pocket, I had spent what little money I had brought with me and I hadn't gotten any pay yet because I wasn't in one place long enough to do that. I explained this to the soldier on the other end of the phone and I heard him softly muttering some bad words. I wasn't making too many friends in Nürnberg that night. The soldier said to hang on, and I heard a muffled conversation. He came back on the line and told me to tell the desk clerk to give me a room and they would bring the money in the morning when they picked me up. I said hang on, and I turned to my good friend the angry old desk clerk. I made the request, the clerk really glared at me this time and said no way, he did that in the past and he never got the money and basically said "tough shit." So I put the phone receiver back to my ear and gave the news to the soldier on the other end. He sighed heavily, told me to hold on again, and I heard another muffled conversation. Finally he came back on the line and told me to wait outside the front doors of the bahnhof and somebody would come to get me. I said thank you. I'll be waiting and I hung up the phone. The friendly desk clerk snatched the phone back to safety probably fearing I would steal it. I mumbled my sincere and profuse thanks for the wonderful help to the old, grouchy desk clerk who glared at me one last time and as I left the hotel, I pondered what he had done during WW II. He was the right age to have been a soldier on the wrong side in the war. Maybe that was why he was so crabby, I don't know. I made the dangerous trip across the busy square once more, made it safely to the other side with my heavy bags, and about 45 minutes later a fast approaching Army jeep came to a screeching halt in front of me and a very big, burly sergeant with a bushy mustached hopped out of the jeep amazingly agilely for his size, grabbed my 2 duffle bags as though they were nothing and threw them in the back of the jeep. He motioned me into the passenger seat and off we went, driving very fast. On the way he pointed out the famous Palace of Justice where the famous Nürnberg War Trials were conducted between 1945 and 1942. A few minutes later we made a screeching, high speed turn off the main road and through through the front gate of the 130th General Hospital. I caught a fleeting glimpse of a 5' tall concrete Nazi eagle statue on the wall next to the entry gate. I had arrived at my home for the next 19 months, and the remainder of my 2 year enlistment. When I left in August of 1976, I would be a different person than the one that arrived there in January of 1975. But we'll talk about that in the next blog.
I know the subtitle of today's blog said "How I fell in love with Nürnberg, and we finally just arrived there. You probably feel at this point that it took you almost as long as it took me to get there. Well, if you remember, I said in my first blog that I like to explain things in detail to paint a clear picture of the events, so I figure you had a fair warning, so don't blame me. Maybe now you will know that I mean what i say! I hope you enjoyed the story and tomorrow I will describe my time in Nürnberg and why I love the city so much.
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