Some of my favorite memories were left behind on a small military base in Germany. It was there I got my first kiss. Met my first really sweet boyfriend and left that puppy love behind. It was while stationed on this base my Father became the true Mr. Mom as he moved all five kids to this base without their mother. She chose to stay behind to do her thing. She was a go-go dancer. She preferred the night life to mother hood. It is my honest belief that some women do not have a mother gene; they simply do not have the maternal gene that connects them to their baby. That is another story for another time. Moving from base to base can be hard on military children and they often start in new schools every two to three years. This system may have changed since my childhood, however back in the day, we moved every or three two years.
By the time my father retired, I had attended six schools by the age of 15 on 6 different bases or towns depending on whether my dad got base housing or if we were waiting on base housing and were given base housing in the middle of a school year or lost base housing due to siblings leaving to marry or deciding to live with mother. The only life long friends I had were my family and even this was off and on. Friends were made and lost. This again is another story for another time. While in Germany, we were five children and a Daddy. Dad took us to the NCO (non commissioned officers club) club for dancing, skeet shooting, eating out, and just about any event that was being held. Dad would sometimes have a bit too much to drink and get in a fight from time to time. Sometimes these fights were at the club, sometimes at a party held at a private home, sometimes at our home. Parties or drinking became an event to be feared. He was not a pleasant drinker; stay out of dad's way when he had too many. He would pick a fight with a saint on Christmas day if full of Spirits. Dad was a binge drinker. Once he started he would not stop until he passed out. However, he never missed a days work due to drinking. Once Dad and all several friends had one to many and cut each others hair. They did not take their hats off for a long time. Dad got the best cut out of that deal. Dad was always working on deals.
Dad bought a sewing machine and started fixing our clothes. My younger sisters and I joined the girl scouts. My younger sister was a Brownie. When she went to her meeting, the leader asked her who fixed her uniform. My daddy had hemmed her uniform with a zigzag stitch. Both of them were so proud of his accomplishment. The zigzag was his favorite stitch and he used it for everything. My sister told this lady her daddy had fixed it. When this same lady then inquired where her mother was, my sister told her that her mother had died. The lady continued to be nosy. She asked her from what her mother had died? My sister told her she died of a divorce. This is what the seven year old mind concocted at the time. Divorce was almost unheard of back then, and being a single father raising five children drew open mouth stares.
We were unsupervised and constantly getting Dad into trouble because we made too much notice in our apartment which was on the second floor. The "stairwell" leader was always getting us for some kind of infraction. There was one particular rule that got us into trouble all the time. In order to go into the basement to do laundry a person had to be over 16. This meant that Dad was the only one that could legally do the laundry for six people. My brother and I would often sneak down to start the laundry, move it to the driers, then run it upstairs trying not to get caught. But more often than not, some dogooder would tell on us and our daddy would get in trouble because his perfectly capable children were trying to help him. I was only eleven and he would have been thirteen. We were daddy's helpers. But being daddy's helpers got daddy into trouble. Being without guidance did lead to some habits that I would have preferred not to have developed. I followed my older siblings lead and started smoking.
I developed one special friendship. All I can remember is she was blond, had one sister, and a mother and father. I was able to spend time with their family. They invited me to go off base with them on holiday one weekend and I went them. This was my first experience with what a typical family might look like and act like I developed a migraine. I was impressed and longed to be in a family like that. When her mother found out I smoked, she was no longer allowed to be my friend. While I understood her mother's intention, I disagree strongly with her reaction. This family had such an impact on me I think they could have influenced me in a more positive direction. This mom should have talked to me directly and explained to me the reasons why smoking was bad rather than simply telling her daughter she could not be my friend if I continued to smoke. I perceived myself to not be good enough for her family, it had nothing to do with the smoking. I would love to meet this family now. I don't smoke and I am surely good enough.
Winter in Germany was a wonderland. We would build igloos and have snowball wars. Some how we never got cold. I cannot imagine how we survived. We each had sleds and would play all day every day we were not in school. Christmas time was amazing. Lights and colors everywhere. Picture windows painted with amazing scenes. The first year we bought a kit to paint our window. It turned out beautiful. The second year be used the same template and bought the paint. It ran down the first time we had to turn on the heat. We bought the wrong kind of paint. Oh, the mess we had to clean up. Our balcony was covered in that slimy paint.
I started to develop an interest in boys while in Germany. My first boyfriends name was Tommy. He was so cute, sweet, and just a straight up good guy. When we left Germany I left this puppy love behind. His daddy was an officer. I wonder where he is now. I bet he joined the military and was an officer himself. So, if while your parents were stationed in Germany and you happened to know an awkward girl that went by the name Cindy Harrison or one of her siblings Connie, Mike, Kay, Sharri, or her Daddy Master Sergeant Hurtis King Harrison. Give us a Shout out. Let's reminisce, or if you were there and just want to share memories of Sembach back in the day that's fine too. There was no better place to be a teen!
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