My Dream to Be Free

by Juergen Stollin

  For more than twenty years, I had not been driving shotgun anyway, but I had endured it for a whole week. This was an achievement, in my opinion. He should have never let me go alone. Renate was not impressed that I did not bring any money home but that I had to cadge money from her mother.

  On Monday I got back the eight hundred Euros for the diesel but I was not paid anything. This time I was angry and gave vent to my anger. I told my boss that I would go to the Labor Court.

  He laughed and said that they were just waiting for me and nothing else to do.

  He would write a report to the Employment Agency, which would be enough. Then I was fired. I also got a letter, which I took with to my employment agent and showed it to him.

  The end of the story was that I did not get any money from the ARGE or whoever was responsible for it. The reason given for refusing to pay me the unemployment allowance was that it was stated in my file that I had had negligently destroyed company property and had not shown enough professional experience.

  I was told that all that was done intentionally, in order not to keep the job. I was blamed that I did not want to have a permanent employment at all. It was really so in the report!

  I would have liked to go back to India or to the desert. But it did not help, I had to make money.

  So I forgot the whole Employment Office, the agency or the job center or whatever they called themselves. To me, they were arrogant, incompetent people. I did not want to have anything to do with them and I was looking for a job in the free market.

  There were enough jobs, but only as truck drivers, no one was looking for a cook-house wallah. I was too qualified and therefore too expensive, they told me. It was clear to me that they were looking for cheap workers, who were able to cut plastic bags with the precooked ‘shit’ with scissors.

  There were not enough four- or five-star hotels and apart from that, I was too old. Another year and I would retire.

  I found a company that hired me as a truck driver. I was too old a cook but not for working as a driver for hazardous goods!

  You have to understand that.

  I was also registered correctly. This time, I was on the passenger seat for a test-week. My new boss was clever and sent us at once to Italy and France.

  So the ‘carriage ride’ with two drivers was worth it. We came back after ten days to the yard and I got my wage and a private car.

  It was a Mercedes "Actros - Megaspace", which was two years old and with a full 480 horsepower under the hood. It was huge fun to be on the road in this vehicle. Since I spoke a clean English, I got the route Germany-Italy-Switzerland-France-England. Back across France-Switzerland-Italy and then to Germany.

  Sometimes I was traveling for three weeks until I could stay at home for a few days. But I enjoyed it. Renate was not so enthusiastic that I stayed away so long at times.

  But the allowances and the salary were good. It was the first time since we were back in Germany that there was something left from the Euros. If I held on for one year, we would have a little nest-egg in the bank.

  I liked to go to England because I was able to apply my language skills. Quickly I found a Pakistani pub, which offered the best curry.

  The food was beneath contempt on the ferry.

  In the morning there was a fried egg on a slice of toast, Baked Beans, a sausage made of sawdust and a grilled tomato, with tea or instant coffee.

  If you happened to have lunch or dinner on board, there were grass-green peas as a puree, mushy rice and a piece of fish.

  But the car drivers were probably the best, if one saw from the view of the truck driver. Most motorways were three-lane. So you drove on the far left and if you put on the right indicator for overtaking, the cars the right turn signal to overtake, the cars being driven on the second track blinked with the flashlight, so that you had the indication that you could pull out.

  In Germany, it would be impossible for a car driver to indicate to a truck with a headlamp that he should, was allowed to could overtake!

  The car drivers in Germany use at the most the headlight flasher behind a truck only so that the truck remained on its side and did not get the idea of overtaking. That's why I gave the English car drivers the title of being the most considerate and nicest drivers in Europe. Although I used to have problems with the English people, I think that this period was over.

  It was on 1st of May, a Friday, before the subsequent Monday that the traffic was moving slowly once again. I was glad could leave the so densely populated area around Frankfurt behind me and was on the highway heading towards Dortmund. I still had four hours to drive to Krefeld. I was running short of driving time because I was already at the limit of my permitted driving time. I also kept postponing from fueling from one service station to the other, because I was not allowed to waste time and had to make kilometers. The fuel gauge had now been flashing very often. The next gas station was my tank stop and my break.

  Hopefully it would be one, where also my fuel card was valid. Unfortunately, I did not take the time to search for the petrol station responsible for my card in my book. If anyone knows the route, knows that it goes very steep uphill from Dillenburg to the Kalteiche.

  My goal was the Burbach-Haiger exit to the motorway service station. But my little pig dog on the left side already grinned! My mistake was that I had not noticed him!

  In the steepest part, about three kilometers before the exit, my engine did not have any fuel any more. I just made it to the emergency lane, then it stood still. And there was a long weekend ahead! I had a fuel card and also some money, but no diesel in the tank. After a telephone call to my company, I got a reply through the answering machine that there was no one in the company, and that they would be available only Tuesday again. I called my boss on his private telephone number but his mother answered and said that the whole family had gone for a car race to Hungary for the weekend.

  She could not help me. Next I called the Mercedes-breakdown service and was informed by them that the assignment for a rescue could take place only through authorized service agent. They needed the data of the vehicle, which was in the document, so that was not a problem.

  But I did not know the authorized service agent because the vehicles were always repaired on the own premises and in the hall of the company. They could send a towing vehicle but it had to be paid private on the spot. I did not have that much money.

  Since I was a private member of the ADAC, I tried my luck at the emergency call center of the Club. I asked for twenty liters of diesel, but after the nice lady asked me about the vehicle number and the make, as per routine, I was told that there was no delivery service - not for commercial vehicles, if they had not been registered with them separately.

  In the meantime it was dark and I did not secure the truck any more with warning lights and flares.

  I also settled in for a night without light and radio. My colleagues only looked down at me sympathetically when they rolled past me with a roaring motor. All just wanted to go home. There was a ban on vehicles from 10 o'clock in the night. I believe that this Saturday was even a special holiday.

  Suddenly a passenger car stopped and a young man came to my cabin and asked me if he could help me. I explained my situation to him and this young man offered to get twenty liters of diesel from the gas station. I gave him my last twenty Euros and he came back after half an hour with two cans of almost ten liters of diesel.

  We filled the diesel into the tank and pumped the sucked-in air out of the system. But nothing happened. We suspected that due to the steep slope, too little diesel had got in. So Holger, which was the name of my helper, went off again and brought two more canisters with his money and we poured this into the tank. But we did not succeed after the same procedure, pumping and activating the starter motor. The battery also gave up its ghost. Now my weekend on the emergency lane was sealed. Even if I wanted to drive home by Monday, I could not. Not only that I did not have enough money - I did not have any money a
ny more. But my new friend did not give up. He had already brought me a cup of coffee and two sandwiches from his second gas station tour, after knowing that I did not have a cent any more.

  And now he said good-bye to me that he would return in the morning and bring me breakfast and a thermos flask with hot coffee, which he did. Meanwhile, I had a visit from the highway police.

  They assured me that they would order a towing company to take me away from there, if I did not manage to disappear from the highway on my own, within two hours. After all, it was a holiday and it would cost a lot of money.

  My new friend was just wondering how I looked so relaxed. I had not shown any nervousness or even panic. I told him a little bit of the desert and the breakdown of driving with the crude oil.

  Holger had himself worked in the long-haul transport industry and understood me. But at that time he drove a garbage truck and was home every day. Meanwhile it was noon and the officials visited me again.

  After all, the German highway was not a Persian desert. I understood the officials because they had so much patience with me since they had noticed that my problem was the empty tank. That alone would have been enough for a heavy "parking ticket". But they felt sorry for me. Where others celebrated the May Day, I sat here on the highway, which was sufficient punishment, they said. But the truck had to go! Holger had an idea and a monster of a towing truck arrived. The driver connected his air hoses and pulled me three hundred meters to a small parking place, stood next to me and bridged the battery - and my vehicle was running again. Normally, the cardan shaft has to be removed during towing, but for these three hundred meters we saved ourselves the work.

  It was so simple, the whole thing had not lasted even half an hour. But the effort had been huge, so was the bill. The whole fun had cost just three hundred Euros. Holger knew the entrepreneur and negotiated with him that I would bring the money after the holiday and bring him the money. I left the vehicle registration document with him as a pledge.

  The highway police had observed everything and now escorted me for three kilometers to the motorway service area, where we parked my truck. Since I had the fuel card, but no money any more, I tried to get cash in the gas station with the card, which I did not succeed in. Holger came and offered to drive me to Krefeld. I agreed and since Holger's car ran on diesel, we filled it and I paid with the card.

  Renate was not surprised at my report, because we were often stranded in the desert in Sinai in our jeep without gasoline.

  Holger did not want to have a single cent for his help, he said he had enjoyed doing it. On Monday evening I drove using my own private money in my car to Burbach and redeemed the truck.

  I was at the yard of my boss on Tuesday morning and experienced first of all a thunderstorm. I was left to shouldering the costs of the towing costs, he did not pay a cent, which I somehow understood. It had been my stupidity, not his fault, so I had to pay. But something good and wonderful happened later due to all this. Since I had my private car in Burbach, I drove the following Sunday by train to get my car. On this occasion I visited Holger and speaking with Renate, we invited him to a BBQ to Krefeld. It took place at the place of Diana, Renate's friend, whom she had got to know since her hospital stay. Diana had a large garden.

  Holger came with flowers for Renate, since he did not know that the barbecue was at the place of Renate's girlfriend. But we persuaded him that he should give flowers to Diana, which he then did. She was happy but there was even more joy when we all, including Diana of course, realized that Holger had fallen in love with her.

  It did not even take two months and I was Holger's best man! The wedding of the couple was a successful festivity. To this day they are still a couple. And the two are still our best friends and visit us during their holidays here in Tenerife.

  Somebody should come and tell me that a car breakdown causes only trouble.

  My time as a trucker was over, after half a year. The owner became broke here as well. I had to write off two full monthly salaries. Supposedly nothing was left to pay the salaries. Did I have the plague?

  Why did everyone, for whom I worked, go bankrupt?

  The employer was such a nice boss and he was clever too.

  Why had he not thought of his employees? That was the first thing you paid when you realized that things were going down the drain. Perhaps the tax office was faster? I knew quite well about this.

  When fate pushed me the bad card, I had first paid my employees. Everyone else did business with me. Everyone knew that there were risks in such a business. And a business man could endure it, if he did not get any money. The State could also wait or even forgo this.

  But a mother with children could do without the man's salary. Life was hard and not fair sometimes. But life was too hard for me too often. Was that fair? No!

  I reported back to the employment agent, who already knew me well. This time, the gentleman was stink-friendly and said that I should not worry because he was sure that I would not find any job any more, until I retired. In the meantime, I would get my payments regularly in my account. This was good news for me, because I had some plans.

  I would also get more Hartz IV money as pension. I wanted to get my money back, which I did not get the last time. I quickly found a place as a driver in the open market; this time I was lucky enough to get my ADR, the hazardous goods license, since a freight forwarder was looking for a substitute drivers for a tanker.

  Exactly the right thing for me.

  A light loading and unloading activity. I got the job. It was very good to work as a temporary worker, since days of rest included in it. But I was wrong because there was enough driving to do. We had agreed that I would be a freelancer -

  I got my salary as cash on hand. I was paid per day or in the weekend.

  I earned almost twice as much than if I had been registered. I did not know how my employer managed this. There were the tachograph discs of course? Anyhow, I was so to say, a double-income earner. I didn't care either. I continued to work here till half a year after my pensioning came into effect. Renate was now retired in the meantime. Even though she had fifteen years remaining. She became an early retiree because of her illness. And so we had the idea of emigrating more and more.

  I was ready to settle in an island and was leaving again

  Our destination was a beautiful island in Greece; Mykonos was on the agenda.

  Years ago, when we were still living in Sharm el-Sheikh, we had a three-week vacation with my friends in Mykonos. We liked this island so much that we already had the idea to emigrate there as retirees. We both knew that our total pension in Germany would not be enough.

  I did not want to be dependent on any office anymore. But even while at this project, we had to reschedule things a bit.

  A surprise call from Claude and Lisa from Tenerife changed our plans. They told us that they had been on the island for a year. They had sold the diving club and also the boat in Sharm and had instead bought a house here in Tenerife. We were told that we were warmly invited for a holiday in Tenerife. Renate was immediately thrilled!

  Then we got the idea of why not choose Tenerife as a destination for immigration instead of Mykonos?

  Because of our little dogs, we did not want to fly together at the same time, because only one dog was allowed to fly in a class. It was not very difficult to convince myself that I would be the person who would first flew to Tenerife. And this is precisely what happened.

  I told my employer that I would not be available for two weeks. I flew to the island, where I had a wonderful holiday with our two friends.

  I came back with a lot of photos and made advertising for Tenerife to Renate. It clicked and it was clear that we wanted to give it a go in Tenerife. Our decision was made! I kept my job at the forwarding company up to the departure to the Canary Islands.

  The next thing was to sell our own furniture and send the things we were attached to, to Tenerife. But how? For a container, it was too little or too e
xpensive. So we made the calculations and came to the conclusion that we wanted to send everything by mail. Little by little, we sent 28 boxes of 20 kg each to Tenerife. It was pure stress to get the cartons from the post office in Tenerife. Later, when I was there and had to get the last deliveries myself from the post office, I realized why. It was not delivered. You had to pick up the boxes at the post office.

  Renate and I could hardly sleep because of excitement and curiosity. The smallest of our dogs had separated from us. We had to put Krümel, which was her name, to sleep. Renate was with her at the veterinarian, who told her that the dog could not be saved any more.

  Even to this day, she feels sad when she thinks about how she had been there present, when the doctor gave the little dog the injection. Now we had only La Püce, who had been with us from the time we had been in Sinai. I sold our car, a Corsa, to a work colleague.

  It was just a few days before our departure, when my older daughter called me and accused me that I wanted to run away again and evade my responsibilities once again.

  She told me that it was my fault that we were such a broken family, that her sister had this disease and that her mother was no longer in Germany.

  She said I was to be blamed for everything and was only running away from my duties. She also told me that I had never been a father and had also not been a good husband to her mother.

  I asked her if she was drunk. But she said she was sober and knew exactly what she was saying. I told her to change the conversation or her tone of speaking to me or I would hang up. Then she said that I could not stand the truth. I ended the conversation by hanging up.

  Ever since that day, I have not heard from her again.

  Actually, I smoked a little less, since I drove a tank truck. There was also a strict smoking ban in many places.

  But now that I was under such stress regarding the emigration that I smoked again, up to three packs a day. Renate scolded me for that.