Deutsche Demokratische Republik, East Germany, sometime between 1963 and 1969
At the end of WWII, Russian, U.S. and British forces captured Germany and divided it up between themselves. The British and American forces had access to the Russian held East, but the relationship with Russia was strained. Dan Boylan was a signalman in the Royal Signals and recalls a journey he made on a British military train, leaving from Munchengladbach in the West to Brunswick in the East,
On boarding, we were given our instructions: no contact with anyone outside the train, no photography, no open windows, hats could be removed but otherwise formal military dress codes observed. An armed guard patrolled the train and made sure doors and windows were secured. Deep snow lay all around and it was bitterly cold. As we crossed the east/west border, the countryside lay in darkness.
We stopped at Marianborn, the customers/passport post. It was manned by Russian soldiers. The officer in charge left the train with the warrant officer with our ID cards, a bottle of whisky and a carton of cigarettes, no doubt to smooth our passage. In the dining car, a German steward in a crisp white jacket with red epaulettes, beckoned us forward and showed us to a table at the centre of the dining car. The carriage interior was superb, each table adorned in spotless table linen, gleaming cutlery and glassware, the table lampshades bearing the British Army of the Rhein logo.
A Russian soldier in fur hat and long greatcoat and carrying a Kalashnikov patrolled the frozen platform a few feet away. The steward arrived with the drinks trolley and offered an aperitif. Then came piping hot, beef soup and a basket of hot bread rolls, quite delicious. The main course quickly followed: fillet of white fish in a beurre blanc sauce, creamed potatoes and selection of fresh vegetables. A glass of beer or a glass of wine cost fifteen pfennigs, 5p in today’s currency.
A train pulled to a halt alongside us. It was a pre-war East German Railways train, crowded, shabby and clearly unheated. The frozen passengers stared at us and our sumptuous fare with something bordering on acute hunger and jealousy...as did the platform guard! The steward appeared with a bottle of chilled white wine and carefully poured a sample. He whispered to us, “swirl, sniff, sip, taste, smile and nod. Gut, gut, sehr gut. Look like you are enjoying it, Ivan is watching you!”
We realised then that we were stooges, lowly soldiers being treated like royalty in a propaganda stunt. We played our part well, ignoring the audience. We lingered, longingly over the dessert trolley: apfel strudl, lemon tort, or schwatzwald gateau, nodding when the silver coffee pot was offered.
As we left Marienborn, the steward returned. “Fertig ehre essen, bitte!” (Finish your meals.)
The show, for today, was over!
At the end of WWII, Russian, U.S. and British forces captured Germany and divided it up between themselves. The British and American forces had access to the Russian held East, but the relationship with Russia was strained. Dan Boylan was a signalman in the Royal Signals and recalls a journey he made on a British military train, leaving from Munchengladbach in the West to Brunswick in the East,
On boarding, we were given our instructions: no contact with anyone outside the train, no photography, no open windows, hats could be removed but otherwise formal military dress codes observed. An armed guard patrolled the train and made sure doors and windows were secured. Deep snow lay all around and it was bitterly cold. As we crossed the east/west border, the countryside lay in darkness.
We stopped at Marianborn, the customers/passport post. It was manned by Russian soldiers. The officer in charge left the train with the warrant officer with our ID cards, a bottle of whisky and a carton of cigarettes, no doubt to smooth our passage. In the dining car, a German steward in a crisp white jacket with red epaulettes, beckoned us forward and showed us to a table at the centre of the dining car. The carriage interior was superb, each table adorned in spotless table linen, gleaming cutlery and glassware, the table lampshades bearing the British Army of the Rhein logo.
A Russian soldier in fur hat and long greatcoat and carrying a Kalashnikov patrolled the frozen platform a few feet away. The steward arrived with the drinks trolley and offered an aperitif. Then came piping hot, beef soup and a basket of hot bread rolls, quite delicious. The main course quickly followed: fillet of white fish in a beurre blanc sauce, creamed potatoes and selection of fresh vegetables. A glass of beer or a glass of wine cost fifteen pfennigs, 5p in today’s currency.
A train pulled to a halt alongside us. It was a pre-war East German Railways train, crowded, shabby and clearly unheated. The frozen passengers stared at us and our sumptuous fare with something bordering on acute hunger and jealousy...as did the platform guard! The steward appeared with a bottle of chilled white wine and carefully poured a sample. He whispered to us, “swirl, sniff, sip, taste, smile and nod. Gut, gut, sehr gut. Look like you are enjoying it, Ivan is watching you!”
We realised then that we were stooges, lowly soldiers being treated like royalty in a propaganda stunt. We played our part well, ignoring the audience. We lingered, longingly over the dessert trolley: apfel strudl, lemon tort, or schwatzwald gateau, nodding when the silver coffee pot was offered.
As we left Marienborn, the steward returned. “Fertig ehre essen, bitte!” (Finish your meals.)
The show, for today, was over!