Sunday, 31 December 2023

Early Morning Run in… Berlin (Part 1)




23:30 9-Dec 1980


Nearly midnight, it was snowing hard in West Germany. I'm in an army prison cell in Berlin. After finding a warm spot, I'm hunched with my back pressed to the wall. The snow drifts through the bars. 


I've no shoelaces or belt, personal possessions and empty pockets - and there's an army bed and no mattress.


We're (1 DERR) here to play the Grenadier Guards in the Infantry Cup. The Regimental Sergeant Major (RSM) is also the football officer and a strict disciplinarian. I think you could safely say he was old school. His name was 'Sir'. 


'Sir' appeared at the cell door.


14:05 6-Dec 2023


In mid-afternoon, it was snowing steadily in Germany. The taxi driver from the airport was chatty and spoke excellent English. He asks me if I've been in Berlin before. I smile and say yes, 43 years ago as a young soldier. I'd been here to play football for 6 days. He tells me I'll see many changes. I told him I didn't leave the camp all those years ago - a long story. I had wanted to see the Berlin Wall, Checkpoint Charlie, the Reichstag, the Brandenburg Gate, the Olympic Stadium, and where David Bowie lived. I didn't mention being on 6 days of open arrest.


Herr Hans was a good fellow and said he was sorry I didn't have the Berlin experience those 43 years ago. He told me he was under 40; I felt old as I gazed out the window. "You're staying in the Pullman Hotel, ja?" I nod. "There are two things to see on the way. Interested?" 


01:00 10-Dec 1980


Sir has been dragged out of bed because 6 of his team are in the clink. To say he's upset would be an understatement. "I'll be back in the morning; the RSM of the Guards will handle this matter. I'll deal with it personally when we're back in Osnabruck." Silence…


I wanted to say this is frontier justice, with no due process, and we're innocent, by the way. I'd been in the army long enough to keep such thoughts to myself.


I also realise we're up the ol' shit creek without a paddle. 


14:20 6-Dec 2023


Herr Hans and I are sat looking up at a nondescript apartment. "This is where David Bowie lived and wrote 'Heroes.' Did you know the song was about the Berlin Wall and divided Germany?" I told him I did and loved Bowie and this song in particular. 


09:00 10-Dec 1980 


We've sobered up. No breakfast. We're marched in to have a chat with Garrison RSM. He's Scottish, the type who goes to bed angry and wakes up furious. His guard's No2 hat with the little slashed peak made him look even more frightening. 


14:35 6-Dec 2023


Hans says, "You see that building there? This is where President Kennedy stood on that balcony in front of, they say, a crowd of 100,000 and said Ich Bin Berliner." He drops me at my hotel, and we shake hands. It's a great ride into town. 


10:00 14-Dec 1980 


Osnabruck. Officer's Commanding Orders (think magistrate's court). Marched in at warp factor 3… STAND STILL… charges read out, remanded by the OC for CO's Orders (think crown court). Marched out at warp factor 3. 


11:00 18-Dec 1980 


Osnabruck. The Commanding Officer could dismiss this case, find us guilty & pass a sentence, or ask you if you'd prefer a court-martial, which is your right.


The Commanding Officer (GC) was a kindly man, more of a benevolent uncle figure. Marched in at warp factor 4 by the RSM…. STAND STILL. Charges read out. 


GC opened with how sad & disappointed he was. Bright young men, some of the most promising young soldiers in the battalion, stood here before him. We had let ourselves down, the regiment down, the army down and above all, let him down. I remember thinking this was promising; we could get away with it. As they say in France, it's only done when the carrots are cooked. Please let us off…


I remember an ominous sign on his desk. A bowl of oranges. Oranges always appeared in The Godfather when someone was about to get whacked. 


He asked in his soft-spoken manner, did we have anything to say for ourselves? A brave member of the 'Berlin 6' said, "Sir, we…" A loud voice boomed behind us, "SHUT UP." Sir had spoken.


The colonel said, " I've decided not to charge you and blight your promising careers. The case is dismissed (hurrah). The RSM will handle this matter in his indomitable fashion (schiesse, as they in Germany). 


The upshot was the RSM going radio rental; we'd each get 14 extra guard duties, day on, day off. Starting 20-Dec. I had one of the 5 seats booked in a Ford Escort Mk II to Hook of Holland for the Christmas ferry home. The ferry was paid for. Not this year… we were to stand guard, Christmas was cancelled, and we were to think about our behaviour in the early hours as we froze our nuts off. Frontier justice…


To continue the German theme, the RSM had some Nietzsche in him, in that what doesn't kill you makes you stronger. You always learned lessons in the army...


Happy New Year to all and best wishes for 2024.



Zero dark thirty 9-Dec 2023 (Part 2)


To be continued... we'll run and take in the sights: the beautiful snow-covered Tiergarten Park, the Brandenburg Gate, and the stunning Reichstag. The post will also contain the epilogue from December 1980. Let's finish for now with the words of David Bowie...


I, I can remember (I remember)

Standing, by the wall (by the wall)

And the guns, shot above our heads (over our heads)

And we kissed, as though nothing could fall (nothing could fall)

And the shame, was on the other side

Oh we can beat them, for ever and ever

Then we could be Heroes, just for one day

Tuesday, 21 November 2023

'Early Morning Run in... Mozambique'

While I was sleeping, it quickly became the 12-Sept 2023. I stretch on my balcony at the Cordoso Hotel, overlooking the Indian Ocean. I love this hotel. More than 100 years old. It's been a rebel HQ in the war. I imagine a place for buccaneers and spies in WW2. This place is solid, old school, retro charm, iconic, incredible sunsets, the best vantage point in the city, and sundowner central. Thank you, Gonçalo, for your hospitality.











In a few minutes, it'll be 07:00. I gently tap on the blacked-out window of a battered yellow taxi. The window slowly lowers to halfway. A wonderful smiley face and a dark green bobble hat greet me.

"Bom dia", I offer. I'm armed with only 4 phrases in Portuguese. Obrigardo, frango and boa sorte are the other three.

We're on the eastern coast of Africa, in Maputo. This city was known as Lourenço Marques until 1976 when it became independent from Portugal. 

He can drive me downtown, he understands I have no local dib dobs, only Euros. He'll wait for me; he knows where the railway station, Independence Square, and the Iron House are. He pauses, and he tells me 5 Euros each way. I tell him I'll give him 10 each way and a bonus for a safe drive. 

I jump in the front seat of Caro's humble taxi; we shake hands and drive downtown. Caro speaks a little English only because he spent 5 years in neighbouring South Africa some years back. 

Caro tells me how his life changed 11 years ago when he was in a severe car accident. I note his gammy hand. The fall-out from the accident hasn't been resolved. He tells me it's complicated. I asked him not to have an accident today. We've nearly had 2, and we're only halfway to the railway station. Mind you, one was a frango running out from nowhere.

Taking photos in Moz is involved, especially of government buildings and infrastructure. I'll be discreet. I tell Caro I'll meet him at the 'Casa de Ferro' (the Iron House) near Independence Square in about 15 minutes. "Please wait for me, Caro."




This station was built in 1916 and remains operational. Its architecture is renowned. One of Gustave Eiffel's shipmates designed the famous dome. There are a few early-morning commuters. It's freezing, by the way. I should have thought this through. I stand out a little. Looking around, I quickly realise I'm the only one wearing blue shorts.














I leave the station and note Caro has moved on, hopefully to the next RV. I want to jog through this area towards Independence Square. This is the area where the movie Blood Diamond was filmed. Moz was chosen due to its similarities with Sierra Leone and its capital, Freetown.

The movies Ali and The Interpreter were also filmed here.














The Iron House was designed by Gustave Eiffel and built in Belgium in 1892. The Iron House was then shipped to Maputo. Eiffel knew a thing or two about iconic landmarks. It's still early, and I'm the only one here; a kind lady invites me inside to look around. I smile and decline. I take a few snaps and jog around Independence Square, and ta-dah, Caro is leaning on his car and beaming - good man. I am wondering about a giant metal house in a hot tropical city.

We're driving back along the Indian Ocean. Halfway back, I ask him to pull over; I'll jog back. I reckon it's only 2-3 clicks back to the Cordoso. Caro is reluctant to leave me; I tell him it's okay. I see a quick WhatsApp from an ex-Army friend. Sadly, another late mid-life crisis, another separation and marital strife. Des writes he's fighting fit again and has lost 110 lbs; he notes he couldn't be happier without her. 

I paid Caro 20 Euros and a 10 Euro bonus and wish him boa sorte. We shake hands, and I enjoy a steady run back, looking forward to breakfast. 










My first post in nearly 2 years. When this blog started in 2014, I was fond of calling myself a halfway to 100 type of guy. 10 years later, I am approaching 60, albeit from the wrong direction. This means entering 'sniper alley'; as my old and long-retired drill sergeant says, anything can get you at any time - get on with life. There's only so much sand left in the hourglass. In that spirit, a Christmas post coming from Berlin…