Andi wants to know what I have against our army. The West has one too, he says. And they have compulsory military service over there too.

These are the usual arguments I am constantly confronted with.

Yes, once upon a time when I looked up with wide eyes at big, strong men with steel helmets and Kalashnikovs who protected us children from evil enemies.

The news is full of perverse wars, bloody conflicts, and nuclear dangers.

At first, I wanted to become a sailor in the merchant navy to see the world.

To do that, I would have had to sign up for “only” three years in the People's Navy to be in a good position to get a job.

Then I wanted to be a paratrooper. But to be honest, it was really just so I could escape across the green border somewhere abroad.

The bottom of the barrel was our Russian barracks on the northern edge of Halle-Neustadt.

As schoolchildren, we traded watches, cigarettes, liquor, and anything else we could find with the soldiers.

What really shocked me at the time was their living conditions and how they were treated.

They lived in pigsties right next to the animals.

No sooner had you made friends with one of them than he would disappear and you never heard from him again.

While the officers strolled through the city with their wives, the ordinary soldiers had to eat s**t.

This contradicted the image that had been conveyed to us young guys when NVA recruiters wanted to sign us up for three years or more.

Anyone who signed up for more than 18 months had all doors open to them, no matter how stupid they were.

The main thing was to toe the party line and join the SED as early as possible.

At 16, I realized unequivocally that we had to swear allegiance to one party and the socialism.

Defend the fatherland against attackers? Agreed.

Use weapons to enforce the interests of a left-wing extremist party against the rest of the world? No way.

Andi actually sees it more relaxed, especially since he quite enjoys being able to crack down when necessary.

As long as we can talk about it, I can live with it. But what if he gets orders to take people like me out of circulation?

At least he's thinking about it.

Two songs come to mind today that reflect Andi's casual willingness to resort to violence:

“Der King vom Prenzlauer Berg” (The King of Prenzlauer Berg) by City and “Die Heizer kommen” (The Heaters are Coming) by Udo. Which one would he like? He decides on City.

“Sie nennen ihn Nobi (They call him Nobi) /Er ist nicht groß (He's not big) /Er ist nicht klein (He's not small) /Ziemlich stark (Pretty strong) /Fast schon ein Mann (Almost a man) /Und so ist es im Klub geschehen (And that's how it happened in the club) /Dort bekam er streit (He got into a fight /Wegen einem Zahn (Because of a tooth) /Und er führte sich auf wie Dschingis-Kahn ...(And he acted like Genghis Khan ...)”

I'll teach him "Die Heizer" tomorrow. On to the Bakelit program. All Quiet in the Eastern Jail.

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