"For some moments in life there are no words." David Seltzer, Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory
In the movie "The Big Broadcast of 1938", Bob Hope and his partner sang the song, "Thanks for the Memories". A catchy tune about the memories of a couples relationship, I couldn't help think what one would write about the memories at Bitburg and put it into a song.
I was fortunate enough to be able to get back to Bitburg after 25 years, leaving in October 1985. The visit took be back in time somewhat was such a bitter-sweet experience.
As air traffic control tech school wound down in Biloxi, Mississippi at Keesler AFB, I remember when my orders came in. In a small little box on the form was typed in Bitburg AB, West Germany. I can remember that day, staring at that name and wondering where the heck that was. Nineteen years old, I was ready for anything.
A little apprehensive getting through customs in Frankfurt, I finally made it to the 'White Swan'. The bus taking us to the base. The importance of the next three years of my life would not be realized until many years later.
February 13, 2010 I rolled onto the base. Having been in Belgium for business the previous week I was fortunately able to extend my stay and make it to Bitburg.
Having read previous posts over the past few years, and have seen some pictures, I knew what to expect for the most part. The base was turned into a mix of entertainment and industrial business, with event centers, bowling lanes, restaurants, bars, a hotel, and a strip club.
What surprised me immediately though, at 10am on a Saturday morning, was how 'dead' the place was. Even though it was about 25F and snowing lightly, the base was so quiet, void of the life it once had.
Having worked in the control tower, I first headed there. I was able to get into the base of the tower building, and it might have been by accident. Not a single person around.
The burger joint at the bottom of the tower is not a bigger restaurant. How I remember the many chow runs to the bottom of the tower for lunch, or on a mid to get something before they closed. All 154 steps down and back up with a tray full of food and drinks, hoping, praying, you wouldn't drop anything off the tray. The big heavy German lady working behind the grill, perspiring, and jokingly we'd say seasoning our food with her sweat.
Two cars were parked at the base of the tower, but when I made it up to the door of the tower cab, 154 steps later, no answers to my knock on the door. With no planes on the tarmac, no rotating beacon in the IFR conditions, it only made me assumed the tower was closed. Lifeless.
It was a pleasure for once to climb those stairs again. Quite a few offices up until about the 5th or 6th floor. From there it still looks like renovation is going on.
As I got back downstairs I was able to see out across to where the RFC (radar final control) was. Now the hill it laid upon is void of buildings with a driveway headed up the hill looking like a path to nowhere from a strangers perspective.
The German Kantene was still there but not as I remember it and probably not the same building. I remember those pork schnitzel sandwiches and potato salad. After work drinking a few beers there and trying to win some money out of the spiel machine.
The F-15 area, tabvees, were always restricted area. I was able to get up to the area behind the base chapel, which by the way is a strip joint now. I walked up near Hanger #17, and not far from there found the remains of the F-86 that was parked near the front gate. Once proudly displayed, the jet was now in the junk pile.
When I first rolled into the plant, I was somewhat confused. Coming somewhat from the housing area I didn't remember the road as it once one; it wasn't. The gate doesn't come through near the bowling alley anymore, it comes in between the recreation center and the gym.
The tiny post office on base, where I anxiously looked for mail, is now an electrical business guarded by what else; a german shepherd. I had flashbacks to the movie Fletch as I walked by and the dog appeared to do whatever he could to scale that fence and get a piece of me.
Next, the little BX on base near the woman's barracks. The two guys at the barbershop that use to cut here. Once with a big ole belly and the other, who was nicknamed Dachu Willy...he'd give me those thick whitewalls around my ears.
A nineteen year old kid when I started my three years there, I can now look back and appreciate deeply what I didn't before. Friends, the great supervisors I had, a strong Air Force with great leadership in the White House. It was the best of times. Only if I knew then what I know now.
After my trip to the base, I went to Birtlingen. I stayed off-base for a while, in a farmhouse built in the 1600's. I wondered if the owner and landlord, who also drove a taxi in Bitburg was still around. I drove by, saw the taxi, and got up enough nerve after 10 minutes to knock on the door. It took a few minutes at first to remember me, but he did. We visited for a while, and coffee, then he helped me get a reservation downtown.
I didn't realize it was Fasching, and the parade was Sunday. Three years living there I didn't remember going to this parade. Maybe we worked those days. Only thing I remember about Fasching is the Thursday the woman can ask the guys for anything, cut their ties, do as they please.
The parade was a blast. Can't belive I missed it in the past.
I was hoping to visit Stausee, and get around a little more, maybe even head to Trier but there was quite a bit of snow. When I tried to leave if I didn't get the help of a couple of strangers to push my rental car up a snowy slope from the hotel I may have missed my flight.
The sad part of the trip was I experienced Bitburg alone again. Hopefully I'll get back again soon. I've told many of my friends and family it had been a dream come true going back. They response has been pretty universal, 'Really?', they ask. If you've been there, you might be able to relate.
Pictures: You'll find a link on the top right corner to see pictures.
