Lemberg, France

One of my first life lessons...

Written for: Honoring Our Veterans ▼

This memoir was written for

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Honoring Our Veterans - Challenge  (ASR) Celebrating Veterans Day every day #423698 by StephBee

. The Monthly Challenge
For each month, the challenge is to submit a story (up to 1,000 words), a poem (up to 40 lines), or any relevant piece of writing (up to 1000 words) about veterans or military life. -- This is a first in a series of vinyette memoirs about my first duty assignment in the miliary for the Honoring Our Veterans Challenge.

Word Count: 995

It was the summer of 1988 and PFC (Private First Class) East and I were assigned a special detail. There was a squad of MP’s training down in Pirmasens for a week and we were told to pick them up. The Company wanted 2 drivers because Pirmasens was a good 5-6 hour drive from Handorf.

Just a little history: East and I were assigned to the 583rd Ordnance Company. It was part of the 570th Artillery Group (GS) and the 59th Ordnance Brigade. Our unit was in the British Zone of Occupation in West Germany. The nearest big city was Muenster. It was 2 hours south of Bremerhaven, 2 hours north of Giessen and 3 hours north of Frankfurt – and Frankfurt was in the middle of the country. Pirmasens, where Brigade headquarters was close to 5-6 hours drive south of us and really close to the French border. If you go to the Wikipedia page for the 59th Ordnance Brigade you’ll learn it was active in Europe from 1955-1992. The 583rd Ordnance Company has the following notation: “One of the 10 main nuclear storage sites in Germany.” My job was to guard the nuke. East’s job was to provide maintenance on the nuke. I didn’t envy him one bit, but I was a Specialist and he was PFC so we’re low soldiers on the totem pole and got tasked with the assignment.

Needless to say, East and I weren’t thrilled. (And don’t ask me to remember his first name. Sadly, time has worn that way). We got together and talked. Ttrue inspiration came to us. Pirmasens was less than 40 kilometers from the French border. We should leave early, go see France for a couple of hours, and then pick up our squad. For a Specialist and PFC, it was a brilliant idea. Execution? Well…

The day came. East and I were up early, put on our BDU’s, gas’d up our VW van, filled out our dispatch and we were on the way. Needless to say, it was a looong drive. We topped off in Frankfurt and kept going. Drove right by the barracks in Pirmasens and took an old country rode that had seen better days. The weather was comfortable – not too hot and not too cold. We had a boom box playing music and followed the signs to France. We were stoked! France here we come. We had no idea what to expect and we still had 2 hours until we had to pick up the squad. East drove right up to the border…

And the border guard stopped us. Said, “Where are you going?”

“France,” East said.

The border guard wanted to see our dispatch, so we showed it to him. “Your dispatch must say France.”

“Give it to me.” I took the dispatch and wrote France on it.

The guard gestured for us to go, and we were on our way.

East looked at me. “The company’s not going to be happy when they see France on it,” he said.

“I’ll think of something.” I said. Because honestly, were we supposed to be in France? No. But this was a once in a lifetime opportunity for us and we were going to take it.

East drove that van to the first town he saw – Lemberg. We parked in the town square ready to walk around and see what France was all about. We parked and walked about. It was a quite day and not too many people were milling about. The building facades were old fashioned with open air balconies. East and I snapped a couple pics on our disc cameras. I still have the pics.

Quietly, windows opened. People peeked out to look at the while girl and the black boy dressed in US Army BDUs walking around their town square, taking pictures and checking out their town.



“Let’s get lunch and then head out,” said East.

“Okay.” I had my French for travelers book and 3 years of high school French. I thought I could get us through lunch.

We walked into a local restaurant and were seated. It was quiet at first. I managed to order lunch. I remember we had cucumbers, sandwiches, and a drink. But as we ate, something special happened.

The restaurant staff came up to talk to us. Where were we from? What were we doing here? We explained we were just to here to visit, we were stationed in Germany, and we wanted to see France. The owner said lunch was on him. We wanted to pay. He insisted on it in broken English. More people entered the restaurant and wanted to meet us. They were as curious about us and we were about them.

My French was as good as the owner’s broken English, but we managed to have a conversation. The townspeople thanked East and I for liberating France from the Germans and giving them their country back.

East and I were astounded. Humbled even. We shook hands and smiled, and took photos with several people. The heartfelt honesty and gratitude from the citizens of this town who took time to meet us and share their thanks was stunning to us.

World War II had ended in 1945. 43 years later, here I was in a small French town, just across the German border and the townspeople were thanking us, as Americans, for liberating France.

The moment was one, while remembered through fuzzy memories now, has resonated with me throughout my life and was probably my first lesson in humility.

After lunch, East and I headed back to Pirmasens. We were two and half hours late. East and I agreed we couldn’t tell anyone about what had happened. It was going to be a special memory for both of us. When the Sergeant asked us why we why were late, “Traffic jam in Frankfurt,” was the first thing that came to mind, and France became Frankfurt on the dispatch.