For two weeks last March, I served as liaison officer with the formerly East German crew of the Soviet-built guided-missile corvette Hiddensee. Smaller than a frigate but larger than a patrol boat, this warship was given to the United States shortly after Germany’s unification as a gift from the German government.
All of the formerly East German officers of the Hiddensee had been Communist party members; each had already received notice that none had a future in the armed forces of unified Germany. In fact, the German government had sent a seasoned officer from the West German Navy with the crew, apparently as a chaperone. Relations were tense, which led to a number of interesting colloquies.
On Believing
Over the years, I have developed the habit of greeting German-speaking colleagues with the traditional southern German greeting “GrüB Gott,” literally translated as “Greet God.” This form is still widespread in Bavaria and Austria but generally is supplanted in other German speaking areas by “GrüB dich,” or “Greet you.” In dealing with East Germans (as well as other former Communists), I have noticed various manifestations of discomfort in response to my “GrüB Gott” greeting. The former kommandant of the Hiddensee had the most unusual reaction yet. The presence of the West German officer further compounded his response. The English translation follows:
Schmitz: “GrüB Gott, Herr Kommandant.”
Kommandant: “I haven’t quite got that far yet.”
Schmitz: “I’m delighted to hear you say yet, Herr Kommandant.”
Kommandant: “Well, actually I don’t think I’ll ever get that far.”
Schmitz: “You never know, Herr Kommandant, the choice may not be entirely yours.”
Kommandant: “I could never believe.”
West German officer [interrupting]: “You’ll believe when you die!”
On the Party Line
The East German Kommandant explained that he thought roughly one fifth of the 40-person crew on board one of his former ships had worked undercover for the STASI. He claimed that it was impossible to tell who the informants were. Uniformed STASI officers occasionally would come on board for unannounced “political training.” The STASI officer typically paid a courtesy call on the Kommandant, then informed him that he (the STASI officer) would be speaking with the crew. As the STASI officer typically spoke with many more individuals than were likely to be undercover informants, the Kommandant could not figure which sailors or officers were informants.
On one occasion, the Kommandant was summoned to a STASI shore office to discuss an explanation he had given to his crew more than a year prior as to why East Herman naval officers carried sidearms on board ship. The Kommandant recalled saying the sidearms generally were for self defense, although his recollection was clouded by time. The inquisitor, on the other hand, had what appeared to be a verbatim transcript of what the Kommandant had said, which apparently was not the “party line.”
As a relatively junior officer at the time, the Kommandant merely pleaded innocence and asked what he should have said. The correct party line was to say nothing at all.
On Protecting Your Career
During one of the underway periods while I was functioning as bridge liaison officer, two of the four propulsion gas turbines mysteriously switched off, thwarting a high-speed run. The East German engineers reportedly searched for hours to find the cause of the engine casualty. In the meantime, the Kommandant recalled the story of a throttleman in a previous vessel under his command who had fallen asleep during a high-speed formation exercise in the Baltic Sea. The throttleman's forehead smashed squarely onto the emergency cut-off button for the main engines and the Kommandant’s vessel fell out of formation as it went dead in the water.
Forced to account to his squadron commodore for the engine casualty, the Kommandant simply fabricated a reason for the engine casualty from a “limitless list of possibilities.” Notwithstanding the fact that his entire crew had been exercising continuously, without sleep, for nearly 48 hours when the throttleman fell asleep, a truthful explanation to his superior, the Kommandant explained, would have meant the end of his career.
At the conclusion of the Hiddensee's engine casualty, the East German engineers ultimately identified and repaired an alleged faulty electronic relay. I still wonder.
On Bringing Home a Western Girl
In describing some of the personal constraints under the old system, the East German Kommandant explained that all contact with Westerners had been forbidden. Even accidental contact in a social setting could ruin a career. He recalled cases in which East German military colleagues were censured severely for attending private social events where West Germans had been present. The Kommandant confessed to having attended a family party in East Germany once, where, unbeknownst to him, some distant relatives from West Germany showed up. He was torn between leaving the party and staying, but claims now to have taken the risk. He had no explanation for this sanction, other than it existed.
On Double Agents
During a lull in activities, the East German Kommandant confided to me that his crew was going through a “crisis of security.” The Kommandant explained that “his crew” (and I took this to mean the Kommandant) sees the CIA behind every bilingual translator and those who speak three languages (English/German/Russian) as double agents. In the Kommandant’s defense, the dozen or so translators on the job at any one time were an eclectic lot. Some were active military; some were reservists; some were civilians. Many could easily be described as espionage caricatures.
My response to the Kommandant was a terse, “That's too bad.” He appeared more frustrated than before.
On American-Russian Similarities
Over drinks one evening, another East German officer, who happened to have studied in the Soviet Union and married a Russian woman, suggested that Americans were very similar to Russians.
“How so?” I asked. He responded that he could not explain in my wife's presence.
The next day, I asked the East German to explain. He said that everything for both Russians and Americans has to be large: large ships, large cars, and large buildings. He really had nothing more profound to say, but that our personal idiosyncrasies likely were affected by the amount of free space we enjoy.
“But why couldn't you say that in front of my wife?” I persisted. He answered that it might have embarrassed me. I sensed that he was still holding something back.
Perhaps this particular East German was frustrated at having been subjugated for so many years to the overwhelming Soviet system, and now feels likewise subjugated to the mammoth U.S. system. This could be a natural reaction for any ambitious, intelligent person who has not yet come to appreciate Western- style freedom. Perhaps, however, this apparently instinctive aversion toward systems where size often takes precedence over efficiency is merely evidence that East Germans are still Germans, after all.