Memoirs of a Worldly Guy
A postcard stamped 'Hamburg' with a picture of a little Mecki girl doll surrounded by blue 'forget-me -not' flowers and a message in German saying 'Vergisse-mein-nicht!':
March 6, 1964
Dear Gretchen;
This little girl is saying 'Forget-me-not!' in German.
I hope you will 'forget-me-not'! till I come home.
Say Hello to Mommy and Dougie and Sharon
Love,
DaddySaturday, March 7, 1964
...We plan to spend today and Sunday here, then I head for Munich by train Monday a.m. & John will stay here.
Much love to all,
Ron
John and I had moved to the Hotel Europa where we found accommodation for less than half the cost of the Atlantic Hotel and closer to the downtown area. We were sitting at a table in a nearby bar early one evening when I spotted a couple of beautiful young girls sitting together at the bar chatting happily together.
'Have you checked the young lovelies sitting at the bar?' I said.
'I'm not blind just yet!' John responded sarcastically.
'How old do you reckon they are?'
'Barely twenty, I should think!' John said.
'Why don't I go over and ask them if they'd like to join us for dinner? I said.
'Why don't you?'
So I got up and walked over to the young ladies and presented my offer. The girls were as fresh and lovely at close range as they'd been from a distance. They spoke so quickly and giggled so much that I had some communications difficulty. I finally had a response and returned to our table.
'What's the word?' John said.
'The word is that they're 'hookers', I said to an astonished John.
'Hookers? I can hardly believe it!' However, he was soon able to overcome his disbelief. 'I like the one on the right,' he said, rising from his seat. Before I could comment he had walked over to the bar, indulged in some of his favoured sign language and walked out the door with a determined look on his face and a young woman on his arm. I had no option but to await his return. I didn't have long to wait; he was back in shortly less than half an hour.
'Gee, that must have been romantic,' I said, smiling sardonically.
'It was just a fuck!' John said defensively. He still had a light sheen of perspiration on his face. I realized at that moment that there was a substantial difference between John's outlook on commercial sex and mine. I decided that the bar was not an appropriate place to discuss the subject.
One evening I managed to arouse John's interest in a visit to the Reeperbahn so we took the Pauli train out to the world-famous seaman's playyground. We ignored most of the hawkers in front of the strip clubs and bistros and finally went in to the Bal Paradox with its unusual rules. John pooped out shortly after we found a table and I bade him goodnight. Moments later I was invited to dance by a comely nurse from a local hospital and spent the rest of the evening with a change of company.
The evening was not unlike a paid tour of the night life. When we left the Paradox we went to a Bierhalle that had a German band sitting on the stage playing loud polkas to the accompaniment of the audience banging their beer steins on the wooden tables. Individuals from the audience were chosen to come to the front of the hall and lead the band along with the cheers and laughter of the audience. I felt marvellously self-righteous as I shook hands with my escort at the door of the Nurse's Residence.
-o-
I left Hamburg heading for Kassel with four hours of sleep and 'da mudda' of all hangovers resulting from my visits to the Reeperbahn and the Bierstube including my romantic evening with the nurse from the Bal Paradox.
Fortunately the dining cars on the German trains are beyond comparison and I began to feel human again after a few belts of Steinhager and some rolls and butter.
A postcard showing a montage of colour photos of Kassel looking as though there had never been a war.
March 9th, 1964
Hi dear;
I'm sure you never heard of this place before. I stopped here for four hours to talk to an old boy about "Dry Magic". The Germans call dry sulphuric acid 'Schwefelsaure in Pulverform'. It sounds more sophisticated, don't you think? He supplies a lot of acid to the breweries in this area for cleaning copper brewery kettles. I left about half an hour ago and we have passed a couple of old castles just like the ones in Gretchen's fairy tales. I hope that she and that other pesky little guy are O.K.! Weather here is clear and sunny and about 40 degrees F.
Love and kisses,
'The Dad'
Half way to Mannheim the conductor came through the train announcing 'Umsteigen'. When the train came to a halt I saw everyone on board gather up their personal articles and leave the train. Eventually I found myself sitting alone in an empty train. I thought it was unusual for everyone on the train to be headed for one destination. When the conductor came through one more time to make his announcement I was still scanning my map trying to locate Umsteigen. I knew it must be somewhere east of Frankfurt according to my reckoning. I got suspicious for the first time when I looked out the window and saw everyone standing on the platform. The conductor had disappeared again so I decided to gather up my things and join the group on the platform.
'Bitte,wo es Umsteigen,?' ('Where is Umsteigen, please?) I asked the first gentleman I saw on the platform. He only smiled slightly as though I were a 'nut case' and made no answer. After getting the same response from three more people I began to think I was in an episode of 'The Twilight Zone'. I was still wandering about with my map in hand accosting innocent travellers when a workman left his crew and walked over to me with a smile on his face.
'Having a little problem?' he asked in almost accent-free English.
'Jeezuz! You are a true life saver!' I said. 'I'm having a hell of a time trying to find out where I am. My map doesn't show Umsteigen anywhere!'
'I'm not surprised,' my good Samaritan said. 'Umsteigen' means 'change trains' in German.' (I found out later that it literally meant 'change over' or 'step down').
'Eureka!' I exclaimed. 'Between you and my guardian angel I'm saved at last! Thanks a million for coming to my rescue!'
'It's the least I could do!' he said with a smile.
I found out during our brief conversation that he had gone to New York following WWII but after five years had decided to return to Germany. In the meantime another train had replaced the first and we all climbed back aboard.
Tuesday, March 10th, 1964
Hi;
I came to Mannheim last nite and hit the sack as soon as I'd checked in and had a good night's sleep. I saw three companies here and they show varying degrees of interest in dry acid.
I am waiting now for the 2:58 p.m. train to Munich which should get me there at 7:30 p.m. I miss you all tremendously but will press on bravely.
Much love,
Ron
The largest of the companies I visited sent a Mercedes-Benz limousine to pick me up. The driver was completely liveried down to black leather leggings and--believe it or not-- bowed slightly at the waist and clicked his heels when he first reported and when he left. It was almost embarrassing!
-o-
I checked into the Hotel Commodore in Munich and felt like I was checking back into a hospital surgery every night. It was furnished with plastic of some kind and all in white or black. Very severe!
I went for a late stroll around the town and found it very quiet until I came across the Hofbrau Haus by accident. Honest! It was about 10 p.m. but it was still brightly lighted. Apparently there are at least three serving levels at this huge internationally famous drinking palace. I gathered that the upper levels were progressively more genteel, used primarily for reserved groups and family dining. The ground floor was reserved for your basic serious country drinking.
The ground floor was only about half occupied and I was moderately surprised by the untidy mess I saw. There were at least a half-dozen 'drinkers' at the long wooden tables who had passed out and were bent forward with their heads in their arms, sleeping peacefully. Solidly-built maidens with enormous breasts well-displayed by their low-cut frocks moved among the tables either bringing refills or gathering up empty steins.
One waitress passed holding three full one-litre steins in each hand. I calculated that each stein weighed at least four pounds when full. They were made of greyish stone pottery complete with handles through which the waitresses had locked their hands. It was obvious that if they weren't strong when they started the job they were soon as strong as oxen! I waved at one of them and called her over.
'Ein bier, bitte!'
'Ja wohl, mein Herr! she replied with a smile. Was that a laugh or a smile?
When my beer arrived I paid for it and was enjoying it until I watched what happened to the empty steins one of the girls had collected. She went over to a stoneware container the size of a horse-watering trough and dipped each one into the murky water, gave it a perfunctory swirl, then set it to drain on a side board. Not my idea of sanitary procedure! Head colds must spread quickly, I thought.
I got ahead of my schedule and found myself leaving Munich on an Air France flight on the afternoon of March 12, 1964.
A postcard I bought in Munich shows one of the serving girls at the Hofbrauhaus in action. I guess her weight to be at least 180 pounds! It's obviously a posed shot! There are six of the traditional litre steins on the table, a plate with two buns and a partially eaten bun, and an ashtray with a partially smoked cigar. She appears to be happy with a wide-mouthed smile on her face as she reaches across the table toward two of the steins. She is wearing a low-cut pinafore with printed forget-me-nots and a double row of red trimming. Below the twin row of pearls around her neck and above the open neck of the dress is a two-inch strip of white lace which reduces her visible cleavage to about an inch and a half. Seated on either side of her are two elderly gentlemen wearing traditional Bavarian hats and jackets, one with a goatee and handlebar moustache, the other with white, wavy flowing hair reaching from below his nostrils to the middle of his chest. If they had really imbibed from the steins shown they should have been asleep with their heads in their arms. At the bottom of the card it reads 'Gruss aus Munchen!' ('Welcome to Munich!')
March 12th, 1964 3:20 p.m.
Hi everybody!
The only things I recognize in this photograph are the steins from the Hofbrauhaus. Any other resemblance, etcetera, is purely coincidental! We have been airborne for about 40 minutes now on the flight to Paris and have just now reached above the clouds. This is a big relief since according to my dead reckoning we should be just about over the Alps. Best we don't run into them!
After mailing last night's letter I went to a movie and saw the Liston-Clay fight, also skating finals at the Olympics. The German pair who won it were fantastic!
Much love,
RonHello again!
This aircraft (Caravelle) is much more pleasant to travel in than the DC-8. Since the jet engines are set aft there is very little noise--just a low hum. We should reach Paris in about 20 mins. now so I must bone up on my French money and recommended tipping (tippling?) procedures.
Au revoir!Daddy
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