<img height="1" width="1" style="display:none" src="https://www.facebook.com/tr?id=192888919167017&amp;ev=PageView&amp;noscript=1">
Thursday,  April 25 , 2024

Linkedin Pinterest
News / Clark County News

Everybody Has a Story: Being a female soldier took drive

By Debbie Simonds, Ellsworth Springs
Published: August 29, 2018, 6:03am

It was a Labor Day weekend in the mid-1970s and my friend Michelin and I were flying from New York City to West Germany to report to our permanent Army duty station.

While on the plane, a commercial jumbo jet, we started talking to some guys who were already stationed in Germany. We told them that we were going to be truck drivers and we were assigned to the 37th Transportation Group. The guys said that was a good group in central Germany.

After landing at Frankfurt airport we had to go through customs. When the officer asked if I had anything to declare, I told him — being the world traveler that I wasn’t — that I wanted to declare that I was glad to be in Germany!

The officer was speechless and Michelin was laughing. She told me that “declare” meant “Had I brought alcohol, perfume or cigarettes with me from the States?” I said no, I didn’t bring any of those things.

After clearing customs we took a shuttle to Rhein-Main Air Base so we could report. At the in-processing office we were told that our unit would not be picking us up that day. We didn’t know if that was because it was Labor Day weekend, but I didn’t mind. Since this was the Army and the policy was “Hurry up and wait and don’t ask questions,” we didn’t.

We met some guys who were stationed in Schweinfurt. They were out on a three-day pass and asked if we wanted to go dancing with them. Nobody had told us that we were supposed to stay at our hotel until our unit picked us up, so we said yes. Picture disco balls and Mercedes-Benz taxis!

Saturday morning we reported to the in-processing desk again, and were told that our unit wasn’t going to pick us up that day either. So we went with the guys to the Frankfurt zoo. This meant taking a train and buses and walking through the red light district.

Sunday morning, we and the guys were going to the in-processing office when we were stopped by a major. He asked the guys what they were doing there. They replied that they had a three-day pass and were waiting to see if our unit was going to pick us up. If not, then they were going to take us sightseeing in Frankfurt again.

Morning Briefing Newsletter envelope icon
Get a rundown of the latest local and regional news every Mon-Fri morning.

The major told the guys that they couldn’t be there and had to leave. He asked when we had arrived in Germany and we told him Friday night. We said we had been checking in daily. If our unit wasn’t going to pick us up, we’d go out with the guys from Schweinfurt.

The major told us to go back to the hotel and pack. And he told the guy at the in-processing desk to get on the horn and tell our unit they had one hour to pick us up.

We were driven to a base in Frankfurt later that day. On Tuesday we reported to headquarters. They told us they needed clerk-typists. We told the officer that we were truck drivers and if they didn’t let us drive, we were getting out of the Army on a breach of contract. Wednesday morning we reported to headquarters again and were told they needed clerk-typists. We repeated ourselves: we were truck drivers and if they didn’t let us drive truck we were getting out of the Army on a breach of contract.

We were driven to our permanent duty station, Azbill Barracks in Russelsheim, where I did become a truck driver. Michelin decided she would rather be a courier. We had to stay at Lee Barracks, which was about 20 miles away in Mainz , because we were the first two females in our unit and they wouldn’t let us stay with the guys. Lee Barracks was a bigger base than Azbill Barracks, with a medical dispensary and artillery unit. They also had one barracks with female soldiers living on the bottom floor.

I asked if Michelin and I couldn’t stay at Azbill Barracks, where we would be closer to our unit and work. They could convert one of the rooms for us on the main floor.

But an officer said that he wouldn’t have single men and women living in the same building. I told him then he should come to Lee Barracks, where the females were living on the bottom floor and the males were living on the top two floors.

After a while, the powers that be found out that some of the females were sneaking their boyfriends in through the ground-floor windows, so they moved the females to the middle floor. But there weren’t enough females to occupy the whole floor, so they installed a door about halfway down the hall. The females then started letting their boyfriends in through the door, since the lock was on the males’ side. No more standing out in the cold, rainy or snowy nights for these boyfriends!

Everybody Has a Story welcomes nonfiction contributions, 1,000 words maximum, and relevant photographs. Send to: neighbors@columbian.com or P.O. Box 180, Vancouver WA, 98666. Call “Everybody Has an Editor” Scott Hewitt, 360-735-4525, with questions.

Loading...