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SCHWEINFURT, GERMANY

In 1967, I was a First Lieutenant assigned to a mechanized infantry unit, part of the Third Division, in Schweinfurt, in the German State of Bavaria, on the right side of the Main River. At its peak, about 11,000 American troops and family members called it home. Although the Schweinfurt base did not play a major role in the war, it was there on a stand-by basis, if needed. One of the first things I saw was “Ledward Barracks” over the arched entryway. My first thought was that the building looked like a prison.

The countryside was beautiful, but I was not fond of this unexciting and dull assignment. It was boring, and the barracks did turn out to be a sort of prison, and I could not wait to get out. Working in the motor pool as a greasemonkey and performing mundane tasks in and around the barracks were not what I came into the Army to do. I was ready for some blood and guts action. Before my career was over, I would have plenty.

My combat training was never over: Morning to evening, and sometimes at night. When the colors came down, though, I headed to town in my Jaguar XKE, ready for some fun with the beautiful German girls.

After inspection one Saturday morning, Gerry Ogier, a close friend then and now, and I were in the Officers’ Club nursing a drink and watching out the big plate glass window as paratroopers practiced jumps.

I looked at Gerry. “Do you think they would let me do a jump just for the hell of it?”

“Why not? Are you sure you want to though? A couple of drinks can alter a jump,” he warned.

“I know, I know,” I argued. “I’ll be fine.”

I approached the Non-Combat Commander. “How about grabbing a static line?”

“Sure,” he said. “ Load up.”

Floating down was amazing until I realized I could not control the chute enough to keep from landing on the hood of a truck and making a pretty big dent. The chute split right down the middle. I bounced off the truck and hit the ground really hard. Although not badly hurt, the landing knocked the breath out of me, and I was plenty shook up. I laid still for a minute, and Gerry came running.

“I’m okay.” I started to laugh as I got up. “Just got the air knocked out of me.”

“Laugh,” he said, half angry, “go ahead and laugh. You just scared the hell out of me.” Back inside, we grabbed another drink, and I headed for the slot machines. My last yank on the handle of one of the machines yielded a fifty-buck jackpot. “We’re going downtown!” I yelled over at Gerry.

Downtown, we had a few more drinks and finally headed home in Gerry’s brand new Volvo. The trip was not very far, but it was far enough for a German national to run a red light and T-bone the Volvo, bending it nearly in two. We both saw the car coming and knew we were going to be hit, but it was too late to get out of the way. Miraculously, we did not get a scratch. However, the Volvo was not as lucky; it was totaled. A few more inches one way or the other, and we would have been killed. We had given a buddy a ride home, and he was asleep, or maybe passed out, in the back seat. Grinding metal and a gigantic jolt awakened him in a heartbeat. He jerked up, and rubbed his eyes with his fists. “What the holy hell was that?” he exclaimed, as he attempted to crawl out a rear window. It had been another interesting day.

I was in superb physical shape when I finally took the thorough and rigorous four-day test involving long runs, map reading, compass reading, rope, and tactical training with the other men. There were no favorites played here. We were all the same in the eyes of the commanders. I was confident that the test would be no problem, and I was right. I passed with the highest grade in the class, and was awarded the Expert Infantry Badge.

Being long past ready to move on for more exciting duty, I had made a request for transfer before taking the final tests. The Colonel ultimately granted my request, and I moved on to Bad Tolz, Germany.

Even though my time at Schweinfurt was short, I still remember some good times there. I recently learned that the “Call to Colors” sounded for the last time in September 2014, when the base was officially closed and turned over to the German government.