Haunted cities, haunted minds
I’m just back from a week’s holiday in Berlin, re-charging my batteries before pitching into the rigours of the impending 2011 Scottish Poppy Appeal. Most capital cities have a fair bit of history to them, but few can be quite as haunted as Berlin. What a city! It’s been transformed by reconstruction since the Wall came down in 1989, but the ghosts of past events are everywhere.
But thinking again, is it the city? Or is it me? I first visited Berlin in 1974. I was working in Hamburg before starting University and went with two colleagues, an Indian and an Irishman. En route to West Berlin we teamed up with a South African to form a multi-national group intent on having a good time – and a good time was indeed had by us all. I do however, recall finding it quite chilling, when we made a six-or-so hour trip into East Berlin, to witness even for those few hours the drabness and austerity of that half of the city and the intimidating conduct and demeanour of the East German border guards.
Fourteen years later, I was once more in Berlin, this time as an RAF serviceman. I again went to the eastern part of the city, this time as a representative of one of Berlin’s four occupying powers, for such was our legal status as UK servicemen. We were given a card stressing that we were not on any account to acknowledge the East German police or border guards. If accosted by them we were to say “I do not recognise your authority. Fetch me a Russian officer”. I of course spent the day itching for the opportunity to utter that line with a suitably dramatic flourish, but alas, the opportunity never arose.
As a British serviceman, my status in East Berlin was secure. The sense of menace nonetheless remained every bit as palpable as in 1974. The East Berliners were under the heel of a particularly nasty and oppressive regime. If anyone doubts that, I urge them to read about some of the lives it ruined, in Anna Funder’s Stasiland.
My memories of Berlin have stayed firmly with me. They are among many striking experiences I had during my time in uniform. These were, on the whole, pretty good. I’m not troubled by nightmares, flashbacks, or self-reproach. I was left with no physical or mental scars. The same cannot however, be said of a good number of Service veterans. My very vivid but positive memories, and my good fortune in making a trouble-free transition to civilian life, make me one of the lucky ones. As we approach the Poppy Appeal and the period of Remembrance, it’s important to remember that not everyone was lucky and that memories, consequences and scars can stick around for a very long time indeed. For some, they never fade. That’s why Poppyscotland is here to help and support less fortunate veterans for as long as it takes. It’s a powerful thought to take into the coming weeks.
Ian McGregor
CEO Poppyscotland













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