May 4, 1995
It was May 9, 1945, two days after Germany surrendered. I was a medic with a platoon of the 328th Infantry Regiment. We had been trucked to a place on the Austria-Czechoslovakia border, where we were supposed to help disarm the German army. That consisted of smashing rifles against a tree and keeping pistols as souvenirs. The German soldiers were allowed to find their way home as best they could.
It was a beautiful day. On this most lovely day in May, all of my hatred was suspended and my fears gone. The war in Europe was over and yesterday I saw the first bright automobile headlights that I'd seen in two years. I smiled at the thought that peace had come at last -that long nightmare was finally over. I stood at a crossroad in an open field and smelled the delicious aroma of spring without the fear that someone might shoot me, when a German command car approached. I had never seen so much gold braid. A very tall German officer leaped from the vehicle and approached me.
"Der cheneral vould like to surrender," he said.
Yesterday, a few Russians, who were camped about five miles to the east, came over with a couple of bottles. A Russian soldier poured some water glasses about three quarters full of vodka, passed them around and with a "prosit" downed one, and we followed suit. One was enough for me, so I made some excuse and staggered out while the Russian poured another round. The lieutenant had to be hospitable, so when I returned, he and the sergeant had passed out and the Russians, glasses in hand, seemed puzzled.
As I walked down the road, a man dressed in coveralls approached. He wore a holstered pistol on his belt. I walked up to him and, in German, demanded his pistol. He replied in fluent German, that he was a Russian soldier and that the reason he was not in a uniform was that he was a mechanic. I took him at his word. Besides, he was armed and I wasn't. He proceeded to discourse on the superiority of Ford over Kaiser jeeps. As we stood there, an attractive girl passed by. He charmed her, with real virtuosity. It was as fine a snow job as I had ever heard. Just as she had agreed to take a stroll with him, she noticed the pistol.
"Why don't you take his pistol?" she asked.
"I can't," I replied.
"Why not?"
"Because he is a Russian soldier."
She turned white. The back of her hand flew to her mouth and she ran away as fast as she could, while we both chuckled.
The Russian left and I reflected that if she was that terrified, how would a German soldier feel about being taken prisoner by the Russians? After what the German army did in Russia, the Germans had good reason to be afraid. They were eagerly surrendering to the Americans; thankful that they hadn't fallen into Russian hands.
As I've said, the war was over and I felt wonderful. I stood at a crossroad in an open field and smelled the delicious aroma of spring without the fear that someone might shoot me, when a German command car approached. I had never seen so much gold braid. A very tall German officer leaped from the vehicle and approached me.
"Der cheneral vould like to surrender," he said.
I smiled, " I'll accept his surrender," I said.
He looked down at me and the single chevron on my sleeve. "Der cheneral must surrender to an officer," he sneered.
"Okay," I said, still smiling, "I'll take him back to camp and he can surrender to the lieutenant." It was still a lovely day and I wasn't going to let this pompous ass spoil it for me.
"You still do not understand!" he said in exasperation, "Der cheneral can only surrender to a cheneral officer!"
"Oh, I understand very well," I replied. I pointed down the road to the East, "About five or ten miles in that direction, you'll find a General."
I watched as the command car disappeared down the road toward the Russian encampment.
It was still a beautiful day.