To return home to Memmingen, which was in West Germany, I needed a travel visa. Although I’d flown into Berlin, I was going to be a passenger in Reinhard’s car to go back home and for that I needed a visa since we would be crossing into East Germany. (The only way from West Berlin to West Germany was through Soviet occupied East Germany.) I had to go to the Soviet embassy to get my visa—-I just recall I stood in line in a dark room to talk to someone through a window. The people ahead of me were verbally harassed horribly. The guards were also demanding information about their family’s residence and then belittled and taunted them after hearing the answers. I didn’t understand it all but the gist was why had they chosen to live in the West when East Germany under Communism was clearly better. I dreaded my turn and feared they could decline my request for a visa if they wanted. I was relieved that the process went without much discussion.
One of the things my mother feared was that I wouldn’t know how to handle the verbal harassment of the guards. She was afraid I would snap back with an answer since she knew how much I hated being bullied. But standing in that line, made me too frightened to rebel or talk back but they didn’t bully me at all, at that time.
The border crossing from West Berlin to East Germany might have been as most border crossings are—-guards just looking at passports. I don’t recall if the border guards said anything about the corridor we were getting on but Reinhard did inform me. There were three ways to enter and leave Berlin: airplane, one train line and two highways.——just 4 corridors. The highway we were getting on was the only highway going south west that we could use to leave or enter. The basic rule was “just keep driving”—-don’t stop for the bathroom, don’t stop to stretch your legs, don’t stop to have a picnic, just keep on driving until you get to the border. Oh, and don’t pick up hitchhikers. All along the highway was a very high fence which divided the corridor from East German.
I recall it being a pleasant drive. On at least one occasion we saw cars parked on the shoulder with people out of the car at a high fence. They were talking to individuals on the other side of the fence. Reinhard explained that Western Germans were probably visiting with family on the other side of the fence which was East Germany. Since it was the holiday season, they must have thought it was worth the risk of being arrested, fined and jailed since that was illegal. (from Wikipedia article, it might have been legal but still risky: In 1963, negotiations between East and West resulted in a limited possibility for visits during the Christmas season that year (Passierscheinregelung). Similar, very limited arrangements were made in 1964, 1965 and 1966.[94])
As we approached the border back into West Germany, we were met by heavily armed guards who demanded we get out of the car: not the usual friendly crossing. Reinhard was escorted to one guard hut and I to another. I don’t recall being afraid yet—-we were travelling legally with passports and visas but I did have some anxiety when we were searched and questioned separately. I wasn’t afraid until we went outside again and Reinhard’s car had been throroughly searched with suitcases and seats taken out.. The guards were searching for contraband and fugitives! I thought initiially they thought we were spies but smuggling was really what they were after: human smuggling. They were thoroughly searching to be sure we didn’t have an East German in our car with us as we were entering West Germany. They didn’t want any East Germans leaving the country.
This was the other thing my mother feared—-that I would try to smuggle someone across the border. She knew how I’d followed the plight of the Berliners over the years with a fixation that could cause me to do something irrational like smuggle a person across the border, or stand on a street corner and urge revolt. What she didn’t know was the Soviet and East German soldiers scared me so badly, I couldn’t have stood up for myself or anyone else. Although I was fearless in the United States with our free speech, this was a Communist country with dictators—-I didn’t have those rights there.
At the time, I thought we were separated and searched because of our differing nationalities, but Reinhard tells me everyone was searched at the border. I just read someone’s memories on Reddit in which a man in 1961 was with a handball team on a bus going to Berlin for a Tournament. There were lines of buses because each one had to be unpacked, searched and each of the players had to be interrogated. It became more frightening when a teammate who had been drinking tried to hit one of the guards. He was surrounded by guards with machine guns and marched away. He was fined 250 marks payable in cash right then or 2 years in prison. Everyone emptied their wallets to get the teammate back.
In 1989, the East German government collapsed and the tearing down of the Berlin Wall was certainly a moment of celebration. I was teaching at Parkway North, stood in the high school library with tears running down my face: I’d never thought I would see the Wall come down in my lifetime. No more walls, no more razor wire, no more refugees swimming to freedom, and no more interrogation and harassment by border guards. .. . .
Why does this play on my mind so much—-walls, razor wire, refugees swimming to freedom, interrogation and harassment by border guards? The news today feels like deja vu to me.
For a lot more information on The Berlin Wall, click here
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