Posted: Thu Nov 05, 2009 8:07 pm Post subject: MUNSTER
I spent a couple of weeks or so at Munster before we transferred to Munchen Gladbach as Birgelen was then known in 1955.
Apart from buying a brass miniature of the Cathedral on the one shopping expedition for my Mum's mantelpiece and a mini stein I saw damn all of it.
I had my weekly education top-up with Melvin Bragg this morning and they talked about Munster, the Anababtists and Luther.
Once again I realised that, being the callow youth that I was the history of Germany passed me by. I am embarrassed to admit that I never got past the Dom doors in Konigslutter and although I took a photo or two of the old houses that was the limit of my historical knowledge. What a shame but I bet I am not unique!
I know the feeling, Paul. I still regret the lost opportunities for picking up ‘culture’ on the cheap when we were so near to it. I think the main problem was that we were so keen to get back to UK when we had a decent bit of leave.
From Langeleben I did manage to have nice weekends in Goslar and Hannover and actually went to the opera in Braunschweig (Turandot). This last was a bit of a disaster – one of the party was unwell, we had to leave before the end and Dave Packer had a collision with a car, at low speed thankfully, outside the opera house. Can’t remember much about the opera but was mightily impressed by the huge flock of migrating geese which overtook the microbus on the way there. The biggest flock I’ve ever seen.
Strangely, I discovered this site by accident. I’d seen the rebuilding of Dresden cathedral on television and wondered what they had achieved with Munster cathedral – they’d hardly started repairing the damage when I was there. The google search threw up 1 Wireless etc.
Regrets? Mine is that I didn’t take the opportunity to learn some German, though I did make efforts to keep up my Russian. Langeleben was not altogether hospitable to study. I often stopped at the Dom for a few minutes on my walks to Slutter. I recall one visit when I disturbed two ladies dusting the furniture. Having no German I was unable to assure them that I only wanted a few minutes peace and quiet. I was carrying with me the Penguin Commentary on the Acts of the Apostles (as one does). I pointed to the cover, said “Apostelgeschichte”, and received a smiling welcome in return. The Dom, the forest, and a little cafe in Slutter whose name I forget (served great cream buns) were three good places for a quiet read.
Slightly digressing from the main subject heading but keeping to the culture and language theme. In 1958 we squaddies, if inclined, had the opportunity of learning basic German on camp with "free gratis" lessons from a Mrs Brotherton, a civvy camp worker who was a German national married to a British soldier. Mrs Brotherton tought us all the Frauline chatting up language we needed to know and I am grateful to her to this day.
It later transpired (allegedly) that Mrs Brotherton either defected or went back to the Eastern zone in the early 1960's. I would love to know more about her story, can anyone help? _________________ Langeleben Dec 1957- March 1959.
Hi Guys, What’s this Ernie, digressing from the main topic that will never do. Going back to Paul’s point of missed opportunities, I think it may be more age related (as we all know, much is). My time at Langeleben was spent in the noble pursuits of drinking, rugby and letching young ladies, and various combinations of the same. Had that been my only time in Germany, as it was for all you old timers, then that would have been my memories too, however, I went back many many times in fact I was over there at least once a year for more than 20 years. In that time I got to learn a bit of the language, meet lots of locals, and see much of the country, north and south, as far east as we were allowed, and of course the west. It’s a well know fact, that we regret what we didn’t do, seldom what we did. All the best. Dave. _________________ Dave Thomas 2 Sqn 13 SR, '63-'66
What a cross-section of responses.
There we have Gordon, the Penguin Commentary on the Acts of the Apostles 'Shimmering' (As P.G. Wodehouse once put it) through the streets of Konigslutter - no doubt with his recorder in his pocket, silk cravat round his kneck, mine were rayon - like something out of Brideshead Revisited: Pull the other one Gordon; you must have been half way to being bi-lingual with that sort of vocabulary.
"Apostelgeschichte" I ask you!
Then we have Ernie learning just enough to pull the birds. Many a night I spent in trying to tranlate incoherent messages that some thick GD man wanted to pass on to a Fraulein and then watch him take her off for a knee-trembler after a lyrical "Kommen sie mit". No bloody justice!
Young Ron Berg getting a dose - of Turandot I hasten to add - at the Braunswieg Opera. I did that Ron, too, along with Stu Brisley. I think that I saw Rigoletto though. I say "saw". In fact I was stuck behind a damned great pillar and the only way I saw anything was by doing a second rate imitation of a pendulum. But then I have a vague memory of "che gelida manina" so perhaps I was at La Boheme. I'll never know as Stu Brisley ignores my letter(s) and, when I have met him, disclaimed all memories of Langeleben.
That Mrs Brotherton, Ernie. Was she the one who had a bit of a 'thing' with Panda Arnold and wasn't she the reason for him doing a runner? Someone is bound to know the answer.
I still have not resolved the problem of books at Langeleben. I cannot believe that I went 15 months with nothing to read. There must have been access to books. And before anyone (and I mean you, young Thomas) makes a snide remark about my age, there were books about in my time and, anyway, I could be a smart-arse and refer to 'Incumabula' I suppose. At least Gordon would understand what I was waffling on about.
In the sunnier and much more civilised times at Langeleben there were quite a number of books, I don’t remember there ever being a library as such, it was just an informal arrangement of “two's up” on whoever was reading a book you fancied. It was then that Harold Robbins really came to the fore. I seem to recall that Shane Grey, and Sven Hassel were also quite popular, but I expect that you I Corps types were more into Homer, Plato or Mein Kampf. Playboy, Mayfair and Esquire had yet to hit the newsstands. All the best. Dave _________________ Dave Thomas 2 Sqn 13 SR, '63-'66
Who needed Playboy and Mayfair when we had such racy material as 'Blighty', Health & Efficiency' and of course the one topless young lady gracing the pages of 'Lilliput'?
If one was really fortunate you might find a much thumbed page from Blighty in the bogs; no longer required!
Posted: Fri Nov 06, 2009 4:54 pm Post subject: Munster
Further to the discussion, Mrs B as she was known, did in fact marry Alan (Panda) Arnold. They did defect and rumour had it that she was a "plant" all along. Another I Corps bod bit the dust!!
I said 'someone is bound to know the answer' and Gerry did not let us down. I believe Panda was thrown back by the Russians/East Germans as being too small a fish. Panda was around in my day 1955 and I was sure that he was then in the R. Sigs. I had absolutely nothing to do with him which if he had been Int Corps would have been surprising.
Digging around for information on Patchett B. I came across a book "Crossing the River"by Victor Grossman (Stephen Wechsler) who swam to freedom across the Danube. From what he says, the average Squaddie was not too welcome and very much an embarrasment. Contrary to some stories he said that there was no internment camp in Bautzen, they were free to move around though only within Bautzen County. The were handed out the odd 20 marks which, on the whole was rapidly converted into beer.
See Panda's got a mention again. I Corps S/Sgt in 54/55. I did a post on him on the Brian Patchett thread some time ago but it disappeared off the forum after a couple of days. Thought I had upset someone.
How did he get into 'culture'?
Come on guys, give us break, if we’re going to be deviant, can we please stick to one deviation at a time. There was I following Paul’s book theme, with Zane Grey, (not Shane, sorry) and Playboy, then suddenly we’re thrust right back into espionage mode with “Panda” Arnold and Brian Patchett. All this on top of a bottle of Piat d’or, it’s just too much for a bear of very little brain. All the best. Dave. _________________ Dave Thomas 2 Sqn 13 SR, '63-'66
Paul, I don't do false modesty. And my civvies were as far from your imagining as it is possible to be. I was in my Angry Young Man period at that time, and my most prized article of clothing was a russet polo-necked sweater. Very useful, incidentally, for keeping warm in the winter of early 1958. G
Somebody will tell me that this has nothing to do with Munster, but I’ll go with it all the same. Another memory of the Dom sticks in my mind. One day I was walking to Konigslutter just as a funeral cortege was entering the gate to the churchyard. It was a sad little gathering: just the minister, the sexton and an assistant pushing the coffin on a trolley, and fewer than half a dozen mourners. I stood respectfully until they had passed, recalling how a year previously at my sister ‘s funeral complete strangers had stood in respect for her as her cortege passed. I guess that with the exception of special occasions it would be quite rare now to see such expressions of sympathy. Perhaps the wayside shrine, virtually unknown in this country twenty years ago, has taken their place.
I would have thought that by now you would have appreciated, Gordon, that the original subject invariably disappears very rapidly.
When a young lad I lived close to a cemetry, a crematorium and a Jewish Cemetry*. Everyone stopped for the corteges - woe betide you if you didn't stop and show respect; you would soon get an earful and, in those trilby wearing days men would invariably doff (what a lovely word) their hats. Also, a black armband was worn as a sign of mourning. Has this disappeared as well? I went to a funeral about a month ago and very few of the mourners wore black ties and not a single lady wore a hat which, since I love them, I found very disappointing.
One of my nightmares used to be that no one, apart from the few relatives living close by, would turn up to my funeral. I'll try to remember to let you know what actually happens!
* There was a playing field next door to the Jewish Cemetry and, if you hit a six into it, you had to go and fetch the ball and you were 'out'. We used to tiptoe round the graves hoping the ball had not landed on the actual grave. Being a lousy cricketer there were very few times that I had to do it. The only times I was ever allowed to play was when they needed a ball and I had one. In those war days they were made from something called 'composition.
Talking about cricket we once played the Americans at cricket and then at baseball. Despite not knowing the rules they won at both.
There you are Gordon a perfect illustration of how not to deviate from the subject!
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