In route to Bosnia and
Herzegovina, we landed in Linz in early January 1996. The Austrian government
had then just agreed to allow the US to use Linz and Vienna as refuel points for
rotary winged aircraft. Today those facilities are still in use, but at the time
the relationship was only a few weeks old. The flight was 2xCH47s with their
requisite crew. In addition to myself, there were two Brown and Root contractors
to complete the manifest. When we landed the intent was only to get fuel, check
weather and push off. The post commander, a Brigadier General, and the Fight
Commander of resident helicopter unit greeted us. The reception was as close to
a red carpet greeting as any I have ever experienced. Evidently, there were some
significant political muscle movements necessary to allow Americans-American
Military, to use Austrian soil and traverse it's airspace for military purposes.
The Crowd at Fliegerhorst Vogler
(formally Hörsching Air Base) was eager and excited to meet us.
There was quite a reception set up for us as we entered the hanger, complete with beverages and snacks. We stuck around a bit too long that morning shaking hands, and losing track of the weather that was pouring in around us. We ended up staying at the airbase in Linz for a few days. Our hosts were incredible.
The next day, we were invited to tour Linz and the local area. Our hosts were anxious to show us their latest shopping mall as they felt it would surely compare to the ones we have in America. They were correct; it was a "shopping mall". The significance to me was the shift in traditional culture-malls take the place of mom and pop shops, downtown store fronts, window shopping, etc, which in my view, is part of the charm of Europe. Regardless, they were proud and I was happy to be in their company. Within the mall there was, of course, a beer garden. We decided to have a late lunch here before continuing the tour. Nearly as soon as our table was ready, a waitress appeared carrying a beer, handed it to me and pointed at an elderly man sitting at the bar. All 8-9 US soldiers were in uniform. I was a Captain at the time and the senior member present. Our two B&R contractors were with us. Although it was a bit awkward to be the only one with a beer, I nodded to the gentleman and took a seat with my party.
Before the other members of our group got their drinks, the waitress appeared with yet another beer-for me. I had taken only a couple of sips of the first one. I looked over to the bar and noticed the gentleman had moved to a small table and was sitting alone. I picked up the two beers and walked toward him. As I approached, he motioned for me to sit. I introduced myself and thanked him but he simply waived his hand as if the kindness he had shown to this point had no significance-he wanted to talk.
He was a large man with a frame that suggested he was once quite powerful. He looked deeply concerned, very focused and shook a bit when he lifted his large hands from the table. We exchanged a bit of idle conversation as he was obviously stalling to get his thoughts in order.
Fortunately for me, one of the B&R contractors spoke German fluently, and I got him to join us just in time. The man began by telling me a little about himself and his family when he was very young. Linz was a simple town he said, an important industrial town on the Danube River, but life was good. He spoke of his eight brothers and sisters and I gathered he was on the older end of the sibling ladder. I remember him pointing out that the only thing the children of Linz had to do is play, and that all old people had to do is sit, visit and to get older. Again, life was good. And then came the annexation of Austria by Nazi Germany in 1938.
He described a transformation, as if a dark cloud shrouded the city over night. Linz was now to become a significant contributor to the Nazi war machine, utilizing its industrial/factory base and the Danube’s inner-coastal transport capability. He remembered how quickly the men left the town as they were sent to fortify the Nazi front lines. Women and the elderly were forced to work in the factories. As the war pressed on, he said it was as if the town never slept-the factories ran round the clock. He said as a young boy, he had no idea of the terrible things that were happening in the camps so close to Linz, but he said he could tell life was changing-no longer was life good.
He said that by 1945 children worked in the factories, even the very young.
I don’t recall when he said his family was broken apart, but I do remember him saying he could vividly remember the day his father left, how reluctant he was because like so many people in Linz, he did not agree with what the Nazis were doing. He never saw his father again.
At this point, we are nearly an hour or so into the conversation. As he relayed the story, one could tell the memories were painful for him. From time to time he would pause a bit to wipe his eyes, or gather himself.
Soon after his father’s departure, his mother left to work in the factories, followed by his older siblings and then he too went to work in a factory. As he spoke of details and events, he was visibly moved by the memories he was sharing. He said he was not allowed to go home at night; he was not able to see his family at all. Like the other children he worked with, he was locked in the factory at night. At least he thought it was night. He said so much coal was burned in Linz to power the factories that it was difficult to tell if it was day or night. He said he got word that some of his brothers and sisters had died, and he was powerless to help his family. He no longer paused to wipe his eyes-his whole body shook and the tears just fell.
Not only was malnutrition a problem, but diseases, both controllable and preventable spread unchecked. To complicate matters, due to the continuous consumption of coal, the air quality was very bad. Old people, he said were affected the most, followed by the very young. He said everyone around him coughed up black mucus regularly. He said people just died around him on a daily bases and were carted out of the factory as if they were dead livestock.
At this point in the story, the man would pause for several minutes before continuing. I had not said a word in quite sometime, but at this point felt the need to stop him, thank him for sharing all of this with me, but stop him-as if stopping him would somehow ease his pain. The interpreter told him I was very thankful for being able to share these experiences with him, but that it was obvious these memories were very difficult for him to recall and to share. The old man immediately sat erect and wiped his eyes. He grabbed my hands in his and told me I had misunderstood. He said he lives with the memories daily. He was not crying because he was sad-those tears he said, fell many times long ago. He was crying because he was so happy. He said he was an old man and thought he would die before he had the chance to thank an American soldier.
He held my hands close to his chest and said thank you over and over. He said other allied armies were there, but not there to help. He said they stole what little there was left worth taking. He said they showed no regard for the people of Linz. He said the American soldiers were different. They did not take anything; they were there to liberate us from the Nazis-the Americans, he said, were there to make life better.
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at old Hörsching Air Base |