During the Cold War I visited Berlin only twice, to run the Berlin Marathon with my platoon. The most memorable thing was how everything on the East side of the Berlin Wall looked gray: It was like looking at a black and white television set, while everything to the West was in technicolor. During one trip, we did have the opportunity to go through Checkpoint Charlie and visit the East.
To cross into East Berlin, as soldiers, we had to wear our dress greens. Before crossing the border, we had to remove all the insignia from our uniforms. We also had to exchange a certain amount of money for East German marks, and could not change them back when we came back west.
On our way back to West Berlin, we all had East German money that we did not spend, and we would not be able to exchange to either American dollars or West German marks. So we stopped at a restaurant and ordered a feast. Once our food arrived we realized our mistake: the East Germans in the restaurant were staring at us. They had likely never eaten a meal like we were about to partake in, and here we were, four American Army privates, eating like kings right in front of them.
As we toured Berlin during our recent trip, we came across an old East German guard tower. It was open, now a tourist spot. Had you told me in 1986 that I would stand in an East German tower in Berlin or anywhere on the inter-German border, I would not have believed you. It was unusually hot in Berlin, near 90 that day, I was already sweating, but the idea of entering that tower made my stomach do flips. My son went in first, then I followed, climbing up the metal ladder, my heart pounding, my legs trembling. I was sure that our tour guide and the owner of the tower could hear my heart pounding.
I was standing in a tower where an East German soldier would have stood, a young man likely not much different than I was when I stood in the tower at OP Alpha. Except the young man in this tower had orders to shoot to kill. The emotions I felt standing in this tower were, with the exception of when we visited Dachau, the strongest emotions I felt on the trip. I felt anger, dismay, and horror. I wondered if anyone was killed trying to escape near this tower. I wondered what those who manned this tower were like: Did they question what they were doing? Did they themselves want to escape to the West? How could anyone have thought that putting up a wall to keep people in was a good idea?
As I climbed down the ladder, my mind was still racing. I still could not wrap my head around the fact that I had just stood in an East German tower. Me, who as a young man served on the other side, someone who stood watch on another part of the border, a tour of duty that shaped a large part of my life, had just entered the den of my former enemy. How the world has changed.
While this scar no longer runs across Berlin, there are reminders of it everywhere in the form of multiple memorials and museums. Checkpoint Charlie, while still there, is now a tourist destination, with small tourist shops selling their wares all around the former checkpoint. There is probably more of the Berlin Wall in tourist shops around Berlin than there is actual remaining wall.
Berlin is now a beautiful, vibrant city, at once old and new. At the end of World War II, much of the city was destroyed and had to be rebuilt. Today, the former East Berlin no longer looks like a black and white television show. Now, the entire city is in technicolor.