A Soldier’s Story: Part III

Everything was getting back to normal over the past week. Saying that, I had been in Soltau for a month and no two days had ever been the same. It was a pattern that would continue for some time.

The Squadron was now fully back to 100% manning with almost everyone that had gone to the UK for New Year returning tonight; after their marathon journeys up the Autobahns. The main problem was that the roads from the port of Calais to Brugge in Belgium were single lanes, and so being stuck behind a huge haulage truck could put hours onto the journey back to Soltau. An 8-hour drive was now the norm covering France, Belgium and the Antwerp Ring Road, Holland, and finally Autobahns 61, 57, 2, 352 and 7 of Germany. One by one they all trooped into the Naafi to grab a beer and tell anyone that would listen about their time back on leave. Everyone did listen – it’s what they did. You listened because it was kind of an unwritten respect that seemed to be embedded into the Soltau way of life.

One by one they all trooped into the Naafi

I had enjoyed just about everything about being in Soltau and my chaperon-in-chief, Baz Gordon, steered me right in every respect. When I opened a bank account in town, I was strongly advised to avoid the Sparkasse Bank because of the branch manager there, who apparently hated soldiers. So it was down to see Herr Mallet in the Deutche Bank, because by all accounts he threw money at the soldiers from the barracks, and was sympathetic to seeing their having a small overdraft a few days before pay day. Herr Mallet was a legendary figure, so I was a bit distressed to find he was being sent to Hamburg to work in Deutche Bank’s HQ! His replacement was Frau Baumann and fortunately she also loved the soldiers; although I think she loved the impact of their monthly salaries being paid into her bank. I liked the Deutche Bank, I liked Frau Baumann – later to be known fondly as Mrs B – and I liked the cashier Fraulein Weiss – later to be known fondly as “that stunner of a cashier behind the till at the bank.”

“I liked the Deutche Bank, I liked Frau Baumann…”

I began to find that social life was not confined to that of Reitschule Kaserne, to give the place its proper title. (Apparently this was where Adolf Hitler trained and kept his horses during the 30’s and 40’s, hence Riding School Barracks –Reitschule Kaserne – and Soltau also had dalliances with the Hitler Youth movement.) Adolf and events of 50 odd years ago excepted, Soltau was a nice town. It may have been small, with a population of around 15,000, but it had a couple of soldier friendly bars, which were frequented mostly on a Friday and Saturday night. The Corner Bar was the first staging post for a night on the town, because it was only 300 yards from the barracks, quite snug and cosy, and they didn’t mind soldiers spending their money on watered down Tuborg. One of the single guys, Chippie Chapman, spent most of his nights there, undoubtedly because his girlfriend Marita, a local German girl, worked behind the bar. So he and his best mate Lofty spent a lot of time in The Corner Bar. Personally, it wasn’t my kind of place, although I tolerated it. Everyone went there I think simply because it was The Corner Bar and they served Asbach brandy at DM1 a shot (about £0:30). But to me there was no great appeal, other than Marita who (a) was very nice, (b) gave me a lovely smile, but (c) was way out of my league, and most importantly (d) was Chippie’s girlfriend. And he didn’t like it if she gave me a smile! He let me know he didn’t approve – my first death threat since I had arrived!

Of even less appeal was The Country Club, which was about half a mile from The Corner Bar. It was always referred to as CC’s. The normal mode of transport to CC’s was, unbelievably, a “borrowed” bicycle: if you took a short walk of 10 or 20 yards in any direction from The Corner Bar, you would come across a local German’s bike. So soldiers helped themselves and 5 minutes later down the main road they were at The Country Club. It was the focal point of a Friday and Saturday night out and was every inch as hideous and awful a place as was its reputation. It was difficult to portray it in any positive way, or describe it without making remarks about how close to the end of the earth you must be. The impression will never leave me, it really was one of the worst places …. But the girls of Soltau loved it and assemble there in their masses.

I need not go into detail about what happened at CC’s, and after it closed for the night. Suffice it to say that many local girls saw us soldiers as “good things” – we were reasonably well paid, we were fit, we were healthy, we had roofs over our heads, we were in stable employment that took us all over the world, and we were social creatures. In those times, all of this was seen as an attractive package; sometimes referred to by the girls as a “golden ticket” to a life and a world away from a sleepy town in Northern Germany.

..The Country Club. It was the focal point of a Friday and Saturday night out..