Thoughts on Leaving the Old World

As you likely know, I am an aviation contractor living in Germany working for a defense contractor on US Army, and other allies, helicopters. It has been an exciting time for me as I learned quite a bit from a variety of people whose experiences run the gamut from the armed services of the US, Great Britain, South Africa, the former-Rhodesia, Germany and others, to manufacturers such as Airbus and Boeing, to people have have contracted nearly all their careers. It has been a really wonderful experience professionally.

And, of course, outside work I have met people who escaped communism by fleeing or by simply walking away as the weight of socialism came crashing down around them. There is the one who fought against Robert Mugabe with the Rhodesian Air Force, and the retired Deutsche Post (German Post Office) worker raised as Hitler Youth. There was Kurt, the former East German who built and serviced cranes worldwide, and who rode to Daytona's Bike Week on a Kawasaki. He was welcomed with open arms when he feigned a lack of English-language proficiency and laid on a thick German accent ("You can't come in here on THAT!" 'Bitte?' "Where're you from?" 'Deutschla.., uh, Germany.') So many stories, so much rich history, and I have found that it IS true that a big difference between Europeans and Americans is that Americans think 300 years is a long time, and that Europeans think 300 miles is a long trip (even if you can take it in your car at 200 mph!)
There are many things I will miss in Europe. The incredible history that is literally around EVERY corner is certainly one. The incredible public transportation system is another. The extensive bike trails and lanes all over the country are very useful, and I have made extensive use of them almost daily, commuting on my bicycle 11 kilometers (about 6.7 miles) to-and-from work each way.

And despite the German reputation for arrogance, I have found them to be very kind and welcoming as soon as they realized I was trying to learn their language and customs. It can be frustrating to try and learn a language and after saying something in the second language, having the person you're speaking to answer in English, "Can I help you?" or "Is there anything else?" Realizing I was trying to learn, their compassionate answer was to make it easier by speaking to me in English. I was so tempted on many occasions to say, "Yes! Please reply in German so I can learn!"

I will miss the English Church of Heidelberg, a wonderful, small, Anglican congregation with a parish deep in Old Heidelberg. Sharing the parish with a local Old Catholic congegration, Easter Service/Mass was incredible as a joint, dual language service in German and English. The English Church has German, Nigerian, British, American members, as well as one from Sierra Leone.

But, there are things I won't miss here. I will NOT miss US Army Garrison Baden-Wuerttemburg and their seemingly callous attitudes toward the people they support. Over a year before shutting down the local bases in Mannheim, the USO and library were closed! Additionally, the post theatre was shut down for renovations, reopened, and then closed less than a month later with signs posted stating the building had been deemed unsafe! (Your US tax dollars at work.)

I will NOT miss German radio. Folks if you think American radio programming is bad, try pulling up some German station on the internet. It's almost completely American Top 40, hip-hop and Euro-pop. The irony is that the concert scene here is unbelievable! Appearing here in Mannheim since I have arrived were Santana, Molly Hatchet, Skorpions, Peter Gabriel and so many others. Don't look for them on the radio, though.

Another thing I won't miss is the litter. Litter is all over the place here. Smoking is part or the cultural identity here and cigarette butts are everywhere, along with bottles, wrappers, boxes, paper, fast-food wrappers and cups. I have seen people standing outdoors beside a municipal waste basket toss their trash on the ground and walk away. Seemingly, there is no sense of personal responsibility concerning keeping their town and country clean.

Graffitti is everywhere, too. It is pervasive, and most of it is surprisingly artistic! I have even encountered a shop in Heidelberg's Old Town that catered to graffitti 'artists'!

While I like the autobahn and the freedom to drive as fast as I feel I can do safely, I'm not at all fond of Germany's other roads. It is amazing how many major roadways inside towns will be four lanes wide with a large median in the middle, lined with trees and flowers, and will end abruptly with no outlet whatsoever. Of course, on my bicycle, I can just take off down the nearest alley, sidewalk or path. And I have.

So, as I prepare to go home to South Carolina, I am excited about what adventure the Lord will send me on to next. I have yet to visit Auschwitz, Luxembourg or the other four mini-nations here in Europe. Sadly, too, I haven't been able to visit old friends in France, England and Ireland. But, I'm hopeful those opportunities will come. Time will tell.

Jody and "Home Defense"

The army trains using a variety of methods. One of the tools that is used and is freely and frequently messed up in movies are "jody calls," the cadences that the army uses to build teamwork and a sense of unity while marching and running.

I'm unsure of where the term "jody call" came from, but it shares the title with the ubiquitous "Jody." "Jody" is the guy who shows up at your home or apartment the day after you leave on deployment or training or duty.

My wife and I are in our thirtieth year of marital partnership and bliss. Even early in our marriage and military career/partnership, we were able to joke about infidelity. Even after the birth of our children, we embraced the military life much like the wonderful .38 Special Top-40 hit "Hold on Loosely" (but don't let go), and continued to joke around. And that's what we have done for 28 years now.

In early 2004 my unit was alerted for deployment to Iraq. Deployment is tough, even on families who are used to it. Factor in the word "combat" or "war," and, well, things get a tad edgier and more nerve-wracking. In the life of my children, I have been on the road in my civilian job or on military duty on more occasions than I, and probably my family, can count. Alabama, Florida, Georgia, Iraq, Kuwait, Louisiana, Mississippi, North and South Carolina, Spain, Tennessee, and Virginia have been darkened by my professional and military shadow in the lifetime of my children.

Through it all, my wife and family have held on loosely and kept that odd military sense of humor. So it was that just weeks before my departure to train for the upcoming deployment my wife and I were joking about "Jody."

"When Jody comes by, honey, just make sure the grass is mowed and and hedges are trimmed." We both smiled.

At that very moment, our 15-year-old daughter walked in hearing our conversation and asked the big, loaded question. "Who's Jody?"

...

...

The Pregnant Pause.

I looked at my wife, and she looked at me. Our daughter stood waiting patiently for an answer. Finally, I spoke.

Slowly.

"Uh, well, you see, uh, Jody is the, uh, (more quickly now) imaginary character who shows up the day after Daddy goes on deployment..." Big smile!

Our daughter's eyes narrowed, her left hip shot out with her left fist planted firmly upon it, and straight out shot shot her right arm, hand extended, index finger up and waving back-and-forth. "NOT in THIS house!" she stated emphatically and forcefully. I just looked at my wife and smiled.

She smiled right back.