The German Triangle

by Carl Messinger

  However, the Soviet Union was not thrilled with the idea of a reconstituted Germany. Hitler’s open violation of the peace pact made with Stalin and the way the Soviet people had been treated by the German army made the Soviet government extremely leery of any sort of reunited Germany. It had been a long and hard struggle to defeat the Germans. They had done it, but not without mistakes made by the German war planners and the luck of an ugly winter. They had no desire to even remotely face the prospect again and the loss of so many people.

  Ron and Ingrid talked about the new German government and its implications. Ingrid was a strong believer that all of Germany should be united as before. In her mind, there was no West Germany nor East Germany. There was Germany, and that is how it should be.

  Ron, fully mindful of Ingrid’s belief, was more of a realist. He understood that the Soviet Union would not allow the defeated country to reunite. It was not about to give up land for which its soldiers had died. Ingrid understood that also, but still wanted a single Germany.

  They spent many evenings discussing the situation, listening to the political speeches on the radio from both sides. The war of words between the Soviet and Western sides continued to escalate and in one particular speech, Winston Churchill spoke of the “Iron Curtain” which ran symbolically down the middle of Europe and separated the East from the West. Unknown to both of them, this phrase was to define the separation for decades to come.

  Meanwhile, they continued to learn more about each other and as they did, their affection for each other also grew. Nightly dinner became a ritual and occasional nights together became a luxury they both enjoyed. Ingrid’s father had welcomed the American pilot into their family, especially as he saw the changes in Ingrid and how happy she had become with her life. What had once been a young girl mired in solace and pity now stood a confident woman looking forward to the next day and the joy it would bring. Occasionally they were able to get away for a weekend, depending on Ron’s flight schedule, and they enjoyed that time to the fullest. The creation of the German state continued to make progress. A Central Bank was established to combat the black market caused by the overabundance of currency and the scarcity of goods and to aid in economic recovery in Western Germany. On June 19, 1948, the German Central Bank initiated a currency reform which essentially severed all monetary ties with the East. This reform abolished the old German currency, the Reich mark, and set up a program to immediately replace it with strictly a West Germany currency, the Deutschmark. West Germany would become monetarily independent and become the sole recipient of the benefits of the rebuilding effort starting to take place. This was particularly disturbing to the Soviet Union as the new currency was immediately available in the sections of Berlin controlled by the western countries. East Germany, gutted by the Soviets of its industrial capability, would become a second class country, dependent on the Soviet Union for its economic livelihood. That is the last thing the Soviets wanted. It bitterly denounced the move and threatened reprisals in broadcast after broadcast transmitted over the Iron Curtain.

  As an initial step, the Soviet Union banned all travel to and from the eastern zone of the city of Berlin. This was an attempt to maintain the validity of the old currency still in use in that part of the city. A few days later all shipping on the local rivers was halted and electric power, supplied by power plants in the Soviet zone, was cut off. Access to fresh food, normally gotten from the surrounding countryside was no longer available. West Berlin was being isolated from the rest of the world.

  Ron and Ingrid grew increasingly concerned about the deteriorating situation as Ingrid’s father grew even more alarmed. He had already been through two wars and did not want to see a third. The threat of that loomed ever stronger as the days went by.

  Ingrid was spending the evening with Ron as Frau Schlegel visited her sister in a nearby village. They had had a pleasant dinner at the Rose, taken a walk around the village, and gone to bed. A loud knock on the front door woke Ron, and he shook his head to get rid of any cobwebs fashioned by the several beers he had that evening. Ingrid was sound asleep.

  The loud pounding came again from the front door. Ron quickly got out of bed, threw on some pants and went downstairs to find out what was going on.

  “Sir, you have to report to the Flight Operations Desk right away” said the sergeant. “We have a jeep for you outside.”

  Ron asked what the problem was but the young sergeant could not say. Instead, he urged him to quickly get dressed and get in the waiting vehicle..

  “Dear, listen to me,” Ron said on his return to the bedroom. “I have to get to the base for some emergency. Stay here tonight, it shouldn’t take too long. Sleep late and I’ll see you in the morning when I get back.”

  Ron stooped down and kissed Ingrid on the forehead. She murmured something that he could not understand, rolled over and went back to sleep.

  He smiled and gently closed the door and went downstairs to his waiting transportation

  Chapter Ten

  The Operations room was full of crew members wondering why they had been called out in the middle of the night. Most were upset, but those like Ron, who had been hearing and reading about the declining relationship between the western counties and the Soviet bloc, knew that something serious had happened but exactly what was a mystery. He looked around and found himself an empty chair, sat down, and waited. He looked at the clock on the wall above the briefing podium and the date under it. It was June 26, 1948.

  The door alongside the podium opened and the squadron commander marched to the podium. The crew members stood at attention, waiting to hear him speak.

  “Gentlemen, take a seat or find a place to get comfortable,” the Colonel said sharply. “This is only going to take a minute and then we have to get to work.”

  “As you know, the western countries have been engaged in a war of words with the Soviet Union and their allies. This harmless war has now turned ugly. No, we have not been attacked, at least not directly, by the Soviet Union. Indirectly, however, the West’s resolve toward the strengthening of Germany into an ally is being called to question. Late last night, the Soviet Union imposed a blockade on the citizens of West Berlin. This means no food, no water, even no electricity as the power plants are in the Soviet sector. All the roads are closed as are the waterways. The Soviets know that they can do this because there was no agreement between the Allies and them on the use of roadways or waterways. However, there was an agreement on air access which the Soviets are weary of violating, as it may lead to military action. They do not want that, and quite frankly, neither do we.

  “Our President does not want to show the world that we will not, or cannot, protect the quality of life of the people living in West Berlin. It would show a weakness in the United States and its Allies and embolden the Soviet Union for any future activity. He has decided that we will support the West Berlin people, and we will do it via the air lines that are open to us. Gentlemen, effective immediately, and until further notice, we are all restricted to this air base and will conduct round-the-clock operations to provide for the citizens of West Berlin. Our allies will also be assisting, but I don’t need to tell you that we will be doing the bulk of the flying.”

  “Your crew chiefs are already working to load critical supplies on your planes. The first one should be ready within two hours. I suggest you find a place to rest until then. Meanwhile, the S-1 is securing additional cots and blankets for those of you who reside off base. You may not spend much time in them, but at least it will be someplace to call your own till this is over.”

  “Gentlemen, we don’t know how long this is going to last, but we know that it will last a little longer. This is a crucial time for the West, and we must not fail. I know you will do your best and make us all proud. Operations will now give you what we know about the operation and how we are going to complete it. Please give him your attention.”

  A Major stepped to the podium and pulled down a map of Germany. Thr
ee lanes of approach into West Berlin had been drawn in dark ink. All three lanes started from the Berlin airport, Templehof. One of them ended at Rhein Main. This would be the lane used by his squadron. As the Major droned on, Matthews’ mind returned to Ingrid. Ten minutes later, the scraping of chairs woke him from his thoughts.

  “Come on,” said his co-pilot, “let’s go check the plane.”

  “OK, Mike, let’s go.”

  Despite it being June, the air was a little chilly, and Matthews lifted his fur collar to cover his neck. People were running around like ants at a picnic, scurrying to get some job done or to assist someone else. Tractors pulling large carts filled with food stuffs moved from plane to plane, while soldiers from the infantry battalion stationed on base helped with loading the planes under the watchful eye of the crew chief.

  Matthews’ crew chief, Sergeant McNamara, stood watch as a tractor pulled alongside his plane and three soldiers jumped down and ran to the cart piled high with food stuffs. Moving quickly, the soldiers formed a line to better off-load the cart. Sergeant McNamara took the bags from the last soldier and skillfully placed it on the deck of the plane, careful to make sure that the plane was loaded so as to maintain a balanced load. Not doing it right the first time would cost additional time in moving things around to make sure the plane was safe to fly.

  “Mac, you going to be alright?”

  “Yes sir, but you better get some rest. It’s going to be a long haul. I’ll send someone for you about half an hour before we are ready to go. That’ll give you time to file your flight plan and we can leave right after that. I’ll take care of this end, Sir.”

  Ron nodded and he and Mike started walking toward the flight lounge. Two pilots were just leaving the comfort of over-stuffed chairs and they walked over and got themselves comfortable for the short wait till the biggest airlift in history would start for them.

  “Sir, Sir?” Mac called as he entered the flight lounge. Ron stirred and slowly opened his eyes. They slowly adjusted to the waning light and Ron could see Sergeant McNamara standing in the doorway the same way he had been doing so for the last three months. The Sergeant never could allow himself the luxury of completely entering the lounge which was set aside for the officer pilots. Instead, he would open the door and call for his pilots. Despite the number of pilots using the lounge for their own sleeping quarters, the Sergeant’s thick Irish accent seemed to by-pass those for which it was not intended and zero in on his two pilots, rousting them from whatever dreams they were witnessing and calling them forth to fly another mission.

  It had been three months since the Colonel had made his announcement about the airlift. During that time Ron and his crew had flown every day, sometimes twice a day depending on the quickness of the offloading in Berlin and the reloading in Frankfurt. The flight itself was not long, usually taking only 90 minutes to cover the 300 mile distance between the cities. However, sometimes the planes circled Berlin’s Templehof airport for another hour waiting for a time to land. Add to that the need to offload 5,000 pounds of payload the C-47 was capable to carrying, and you can add another couple of hours. The first day of flights had resulted in 64 sorties being flown to Berlin delivering about 156 tons of much needed material. Since that time, the number of sorties had steadily increased with additional planes being made available both from the United States and Great Britain.

  Ron shook his head and slowly walked over to a table where a pitcher and bucket stood. He reached his hands into the pitcher, feeling the cool water on his fingers, and splashed the liquid on his face, hoping to speed the wakening. He looked over at his co-pilot and saw his partner leaning over, tying his shoes. His mind wandered to Ingrid. He had sent several notes to her, usually one every couple of days, but had not heard anything back from her. Being restricted on base was beginning to annoy him. He missed her and wanted to hold her again. He was worried that something had happened to keep her from communicating with him. He thought back to the Nazi youth and prayed that they had not returned to get revenge. He shuddered at the thought of what they could do to the old man and the helpless girl. He hoped against hope that they were alright.

  That thought traveled with him throughout the day’s mission.

  Chapter Eleven

  The Operations Room was the first place the pilots headed upon their return from Berlin. It contained information on the next mission to be flown, the scheduled departure times for the various aircraft, load information, weather, and generally anything the pilots needed to know. Also on the Situation Board was the aircraft status.

  Ron had just returned from his last run of the day. It was early evening and the lights of the city had started to come on. He enjoyed flying at night with the stars above fighting for notice with the electric stars below. The radio broke the silence and reminded him of his pilot duties. The runway was a little to his right and he bent his aircraft around a mythical corner to line up with runway lights. He had done this many times before and knew the routine backwards and forward. As pilot, he mostly did the take-offs and landings, letting his co-pilot fly the straight and level part of the flight. He could indulge himself a bit of fantasy during that time and normally wondered about Ingrid and why she had not answered his notes.

  The radio screeched into that thought and provided final landing instructions. It was the same as it had been for the last three months and he methodically went about his business, making the final checks with his co-pilot until the wheels lightly settled on the runway and he headed for loading station number 17. Reaching the loading station, Ron feathered the engines and settled the aircraft down for the night, leaving Mac to handle the final preparations for the next loads. He headed to the Operations Room to see what the next day entailed for him. The chilly, damp air surrounded him like a wet blanket.

  Ron stared straight at the next day’s schedule as though he could not believe it. His aircraft was scheduled for maintenance the next day, nothing serious, just the routine inspection and maintenance which kept the aircraft in the air until the next scheduled maintenance. He knew because of that, he would have the next day off, that is, unless something happened that required him to pilot a different aircraft.

  The Operations Officer, the same Major that spoke about the details of the operation when the Colonel first announced it, was talking with a couple of pilots about some recommended changes in the off-loading procedure which would free the airplanes to return for more supplies without having to wait as long as they did now. Ron had to laugh. Some of the ideas were worth discussion, while others seemed like flights of fancy. However, all would be considered, the Major told them and turned back to what he had been doing.

  “Major,” said Ron. “Can I speak with you for a minute?”

  The Major turned around at Ron’s question. “Sure,” he said.

  “Tomorrow my aircraft is set for scheduled maintenance so there is a good chance that I will not be flying that day. It has been three months since we started this operation and a lot of us have not been off this base. Before the operation began, I had become pretty involved with one of the young German girls in the small village where I was staying. You may have read the story of when her father was attacked by some Nazi youths; I was able to stop them from beating him up. We had become pretty close as a family because of that.”

  “I wrote them several notes and letters since we started this operation but have not heard back from them at all. I am concerned that something may have happened to them and would really like the opportunity to check it out. I was wondering if I could borrow a jeep tomorrow and go to the village to make sure they are alright. I would be back before the second flight begins in case a substitute pilot is needed and, of course, I would be available if a substitute was needed first thing in the morning. This may be the only chance I have as long as this operation continues, which looks like it is going to be going on for a long time.”

  The Operations Officer thought for a while. Several other pilots had been given permis
sion to visit friends while their plane was being serviced, under the same limitation as being available in case a substitute pilot was needed. The break had been good for them, gave them a chance to do something different and renew friendships that had been abruptly severed.

  “Check into the Ops office at 0600 tomorrow morning. The first flight is scheduled to leave at 0700. If you are not needed, you can have the rest of the morning off base. But you need to be back on base by noon for the afternoon flights. Is that understood?”

  “Yes sir,” Ron said. “And thank you.”

  The Major nodded and returned to his scheduling as Ron turned and headed to the lounge where his cot was set up. His co-pilot was not there so he headed to the mess hall to get something to eat. There he found Mike and told him about his conversation with Operations. Mike offered to cover for him in case a substitute pilot was needed, but Ron thought that was his responsibility and declined the offer. They ate quietly, each thinking of the possible day of rest they could look forward to and how they would use it.

  Ron was looking forward to seeing Ingrid, but was a little skeptical because he had not heard back from her. That would not have been like her at all, he thought. His mind wandered through scenario after scenario, most of them not pleasant and all of them leaving a wondering in his mind.

  A good meal and several cups of coffee later, Ron headed back to the lounge. While one half had been modified to make sleeping quarters, or at least bunks lined up in three rows, the other half still had card tables and magazines along with a one-station radio. Several card games were going, some continuations of games started the first week of the airlift. The scores were in the thousands, but all were relative so no one was upset. Good natured kidding still abounded among the pilots, especially the veteran ones who had been in the operation since the beginning. New pilots, wishing to be included but knowing the ritual, sat and listened to the stories, making mental notes, until one of the other older pilots decided to include them in the discussion. Of course, their contribution to the mission was less than the veterans and usually their comments were met with laughter and jeers. Sheepishly, they turned away from the discussion and looked for their fellow new-bees.