Not so friendly of a welcome

In September 1980, I was in Munich, Germany for Octoberfest. My friends and I were having a few beers to wind down from field training exercises. We had been on maneuvers for ninety days and were glad to be back to the civilian world. We were given five days off to enjoy Octoberfest. My friends and I we decided to go to Munich for a little rest and relaxation. We had been there a day or two and we found a place to enjoy some food and a beer. After being there for about forty-five minutes, we decided to go elsewhere. Fifteen minutes after we left, the area where we had been sitting was attacked by a terrorist. We were the most sought after individuals by Polizei, because they thought somehow we were involved. When we were found we were questioned and an hour later we were released to our first sergeant. Our first sergeant took us back to our hotel and told us to check in with him and the commanding officer when we returned.

Back at the motel we were debating going back to the barracks instead of finishing our stay in Munich. After much debate, we decided we weren't going to be chased off by terrorist. We went to bed and woke up the next day, then went by the bombing site. It was eerie to see and the blood still hadn't been cleaned up. The body had been removed but the blood remained. We stood in somber silence and said nothing to each other. We said a prayer and moved on like the rest of the on lookers.

The day we arrived back at the barracks we had the grueling task of answering our first-sergeants questions and our commanders questions. They also told us we would be talking to Criminal Investigation Division as well. After being questioned by every one and they realized our stories matched up and didn't change, the investigation was closed. Our commander told us he was glad that none of the five of us were injured.

Our fellow soldiers were happy to see us and were thankful we weren't hurt. My room mates were glad that I returned safely. We had a light party when I returned, of Coca-Cola, peanuts and pizzas to celebrate. We went to bed early at least I did because I was charge of quarter runner the next day. That meant I had twenty-four hour duty from seven am until seven am the next day. This was the part I hated most.

My boyfriend was not the least bit happy about the fact that his boyfriend was nearly blown up by a suicide bomber. My grandmother wasn't the least bit happy either. She told me that she didn't send over to Germany to get killed by a suicide bomber.

This near brush with a suicide bomber or being in close proximity to him is part of my post traumatic stress disorder. My post traumatic stress disorder didn't kick in until years later, but this is one of the chain of events that had made my post traumatic stress disorder worsen.

This was a learning experience for me. I realized how hated the United States was by being in Germany. When they tried to blow up General Schwarzkopf as he passed over a bridge going to work I knew. I had never been the target of a terrorist before, but this was the first time. I took those terrorist posters a little more seriously than I had before.

While I don't know what our troops today felt like having an improvised explosive device go off in front of them, but I do understand the terror. I do have that in common with todays soldiers.

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