"...we made our way down ladders and through a maze of passageways to a cabin which we would call home for the next five days."
"The attitude and behavior of the French at this time were consistently hostile to Americans."
"I put the family safely on the train and went back for the luggage, making it clear that a few Gallic curses were not going to intimidate me."
"...the best laid plans of mice and men..."
"...as a professional member of the military, it was unfair for me to be serving in Europe when so many non-professional military people were serving in Vietnam."
NEXT WEEK:
SOG
Ah,
Deutchland, We Barely Knew Ye
by Jean d'Isle
' 
n
the two days we spent in New York awaiting our sailing
date for La Havre, France, we worked through our
checklist of things to see and do:
Statue of Liberty, Empire State
Building, UN Building, Times Square, an off-Broadway
play, and dinner at one of those places where you put in
money and retrieve your food from a little window. Those
clever New Yorkers!
When departure day arrived, we fought the impossible New York traffic to the waterfront where the SS United States lay pier side -- a huge ship and owner of the Atlantic crossing speed record (a distinction it still holds).
With two-year-old daughter and four-year-old son in tow, we made our way down ladders and through a maze of passageways to a cabin which we would call home for the next five days.
It turned out to be an enjoyable, 
uneventful
crossing, in spite of two very energetic and mobile
children and constant monitoring of the ship's PA system
for announcements of "child overboard."
Memories are of near continuous eating episodes, periodic
lifeboat drills, overcast days, and long periods of
uninterrupted reading and dozing while wrapped in
blankets on the "sun deck".
On our 
arrival
in France, we took the train into Paris where we would
spend the night and most of the next day before catching
another train for Germany. The attitude and behavior of
the French at this time were consistently hostile to
Americans. NATO HQ had just been relocated from France to
Belgium (at French request), and French national pride
required that every Frenchman show disdain for anyone who
might be American. In spite of the cold reception, we
made visits to The Louvre, the Eiffel Tower, and the Arc
du Triomphe, and strolled the Champs Elysee. Departure
from Gard Nord train station left us with an indelible
memory of the French when the baggage handlers refused to
load our bags on the train and 
said I
was not allowed to carry them onto the platform myself.
This was resolved when I put the family safely on the
train and went back for the luggage, making it clear that
a few Gallic curses were not going to intimidate me. Au
revoir, mes amis -- baisez mon derriere.
The overnight train ride to Bremen would have been
unremarkable had we not found ourselves sharing sleeping
accommodations with a German family. We weren't prepared
to 
disrobe in the company of
strangers (although they showed no compunction about
stripping down to their skivvies in front of us); so we
dressed the children for bed but slept fully clothed
ourselves. They probably still comment on the strange
custom of Americans to sleep with all their clothes on.
In Bremen we were met by a bus from the command 
and finished our long journey to Bremerhaven
over one of Der Fuhrer's aging autobahns. As a major
seaport, Bremerhaven had been completely devastated by
allied bombers during the war and the city was entirely
rebuilt during the postwar period. It was an interesting
place to be stationed, with good rail and highway access
to other parts of the country and the rest of Europe. We
looked forward to our three-year tour of duty and the
opportunity to explore Europe. But the best laid plans of
mice and men? In less than a year after arriving in
Germany, we boarded an airplane on the Fourth of July
1967 and returned to the United States -- I was on my way
to Vietnam.
Several factors led to this sudden reassignment. The
buildup of U.S. forces in Vietnam was at its peak at this
time 
and casualty lists were getting
longer every day. My brother, who was in the Army,
received orders to Vietnam and was assigned to the First
Infantry Division (Big Red One) in the field. The policy
in effect at that time was that members of the same
family did not have to serve together in a combat zone;
so my arrival in Vietnam allowed him to request and
receive a shortened combat tour. Also, I felt that as a
professional member of the military, it was unfair for me
to be serving in Europe when so many non-professional
military people were serving in Vietnam. I wrote a letter
to the detailers and let them know that if there was a
requirement for a person with my particular
qualifications, I was willing to have my assignment in
Germany curtailed for a tour in Vietnam. Almost by return
mail my command received a letter asking permission to
transfer me. I certainly had second thoughts about it,
and I had a very unhappy wife to deal with, but I
confirmed my willingness to go.
The orders came quickly afterwards, assigning me to
duties as the Officer in Charge of the Special Support
Group Detachment to the MACV Studies and Observations
Group 
(SOG), a harmless enough
sounding organization. I was actually assigned to an
unnamed Washington agency for duty with SOG, but I had
long ago gotten used to written orders that didn't mean
what they said; and it didn't take me long to puzzle out
what my "particular qualifications" were for
this job-experience in covert operations can come back to
haunt you.
__________________________________________________
Jean
d'Isle is a retired naval officer living
in Hawaii.
During his
military career he served in a number of overseas
assignments, including Germany, England, Spain, Viet Nam
and Puerto Rico. Following his retirement, he was an
adjunct faculty member of Hawaii Pacific University and
is currently under contract with the U.S. Navy at the
submarine base in Pearl Harbor.
Jean's column, View From d'Isle, is a regular feature of VegSource On-Line Magazine.