Beginning my seaman’s career onboard the German merchant ship, the M/S Steinberg, it was with great curiosity that I arrived on the shores of Germany, a chance to learn more about World War II, from the German side. True, I did learn about the German side, given that their version of events differed greatly from descriptions learned from Canadian classroom textbooks. From the start, a new question surfaced in my mind; which side was telling the truth? Not waiting to hear more conflicting stories, I began to abandon society’s learning methods and started to use my research ability. An ability that most of us have, but fail to use when it is convenient to follow society’s mind set.

At the young age of sixteen, I began to seriously question written history originating from the academic world, adapting an attitude to accept it as a base for further research. Obviously, this attitude emerged with reasoning; my stay in Germany provided an environment for change in attitude. Following a few months of sailing the rough waters of the North Atlantic, the ship that introduced me to a professional life at sea, changed flags, purchased by a French company. The image below displays the M/S Steinberg resting at anchor.

Realizing my interest to pursue an officer’s career, the ship’s Captain allowed me to stay at his German residence while I looked for another ship to sign on as crew. His offer carried an interest to see me succeed as a professional seaman, educated in Germany. Keeping me on course towards an officer’s career, the Captain proposed I first learn the German language well, and after attaining enough sea time, enroll in the nautical school near his residence. Plans for a sea career drawn, it was time to learn about Germans and their culture. Influenced by World War II historical tales, my surroundings provided a wealth of knowledge about German World War II activities.

The Captain’s residence, the village of  Steinkirshen, located on the Southern edge of the River Elbe, near the Port of Hamburg, was my temporary home and home to numerous German war veterans. With my limited knowledge of the German language, acquired within a few months of sailing, I managed to maintain an inquiring conversation, generating a tremendous amount of information about German war activities, seldom described in history books. As my mind realized that written history mainly satisfied those that wrote it, my desire to seek more information increased, encouraging me to visit the City of Berlin, a center of great historical importance. The city of Berlin during the seventies is shown below.

During the early seventies, the segregated City of West Berlin occupied a land area within East Germany, thus traveling to East or West Berlin required entering Communist land or air space. Learning about the numerous train delays crossing East Germany, in route to Berlin, I decided to fly. From my initial savings, I purchased an airline ticket to Berlin and with the aid of the Captain and his neighbor’s daughter, that worked in Berlin, I flew from Hamburg to Berlin where I settled in a youth hostel.

While in Berlin, it did not take long to meet people that shared an interest for historical truth. Twenty six years passed since World War II ended. The Cold War maintained tensions between East and West, yet for the average person visiting Berlin it was a time to research events that influenced the shaping of their present world.

In the early seventies, specifically 1971,  the youth hostels of Europe were full of activity, Berlin was no exception, the evenings seldom encouraged a good night sleep, too many people to meet, arriving from the seven corners of the world, seven seas, thus seven corners, it makes sense to a sailor. During one of the evenings, I met Wieland, a young German medical student from Berlin, young in relation to his academic level, yet older than I by a few years. The hostel’s bar, located near the lobby was full and our purpose was no other than to survey the female population. A survey worth pursuing, allowing for great company and satisfaction of an inner self that promotes procreation of the species. With the bar maintaining a rhythm of its own, I soon found myself riding on his 1936 convertible Daimler Benz through the streets of Berlin, a classic car that produced a sense for the past.

Beginning with a visit to the red light district, it soon became obvious that old Berlin continued from the days of the war, adapting well to change. Without a doubt, freedom of expression was their primary goal. With new buildings being built, new attitudes emerging, Berliners maintained a sense for change based on their war experience. Living on the center of a divided world, Berliners were fully aware of the difference between capitalism and communism. This difference, made me realize that forces between two societies are a direct reflection of different viewpoints, emerging from opposing leaderships.                                        

Following a few days of visits to war relevant sights, thanks to my newfound friend, he encouraged me to cross the Berlin wall and visit the communist side. To a foreigner, asking permission to visit East Germany was not a problem. In general, a foreigner willing to hand over his passport to East German authorities received permission to enter the country. This process was complicated for West German citizens, seldom receiving permission to travel to the East.

I traveled to East Berlin alone, crossing Check Point Charlie where armed guards patrolled both sides of the wall. It was surprising to see East Berlin a peaceful city with hardly any people walking the streets. A Westerner in East Berlin stood out from the rest, encouraging East Berliners to seek conversation about the West. Their isolation, a direct result of governance that wanted complete segregation for its people, produced a sense of desperation resembling prisoners inside a well-guarded fortress, an attitude that took time to fully understand, given my sudden exposure to a guarded city. During my tour, I became accustomed to answering questions about life in the West. Their sense of curiosity permitted them a better knowledge of the world than from people I encountered in the West. Their confinement created such curiosity, where every bit of information received from a foreigner, counted. The image below shows the exact point of entrance, located to the left of the photo, where I surrounded my passport in exchange for a visitor’s permit.