CENTRAL VIEW for Monday, May 13, 2024

No plan survives contact with reality."*

In 1971, arriving back in West Germany after a second tour in VN, plus a year at the U.S. Naval War College, I had a morale problem. Namely, the lack of a wife to share the ups and downs of military life. So, my "Grand Plan" was to invite the young woman whom I hoped would become Wonder Wife for a whirlwind tour of Bavaria.

She was to arrive by Lufthansa after which I would take her to the Garmisch R&R Center where respectable separate rooms were reserved. On top of Germany’s highest mountain and after some German wine, I figured my proposal of marriage might be accepted. What could possibly go wrong?

She was due to arrive at 0800 hours the next morning. Yikes, even though on Official Leave, I was ordered to brief the Secretary of the Army on Adventure Training at 1100 hours the next day. At normal German break-neck driving speed, I should be able to pick her up, drive from Frankfurt to Mainz, park her at the curb, run in to do the one-hour briefing, and then head for Garmisch. What could possibly go wrong?

After parking in the no-parking zone where international arrivals exit the terminal, the German policeman was so impressed by my near-native German that he volunteered to guard my car. And so, with a dozen red roses in hand, I waited and waited and waited for Lufthansa to deliver my prospective Wonder Wife.

The time to either bolt for the briefing or to get my policeman friend to hold her had come when, to my profound relief, she burst into view. I thrust the roses into her hands, stowed her bag, and burned rubber for Mainz.

"Do you always drive like a madman?" she asked. Soon, she would learn that I was just barely keeping up with the German traffic.

Quickly, I explained the situation. Graciously, she agreed to sit in the VW while I ran in to do the briefing which, due to my elevated heart beat, was delivered with great energy and effect. The Secretary was pleased, the brigade commander was pleased, and I was excused to depart.

Heading south, I hoped to get my Grand Plan to impress her back in order. So far, it had not gone well. But now, what could possibly go wrong?

Always prepared, as I would soon learn to my delight, she had an International Driver’s License. She said she slept on the long flight and could drive while I napped. Near Stuttgart, she took the wheel as I said, "Just stay on this eastward Autobahn until you see a sign that says ’Munich.’ Wake me. I will drive to Garmisch." What could possibly go wrong?

Sometime later, she suggested I wake up and produce my ID card. We were at some kind of check point. A Czech point alright. The guards had AK-47s!

I asked, "Didn’t you see the signs for Munich?" "

No, she said. "But there were lots of signs that said München."

It was almost dark, so I said, "No problem. To make up for lost time, I know a back road to Garmisch." Pre-GPS, what could possibly go wrong?

*Attributed to Helmuth von Moltke, the first chief of the German General Staff.

©2024. William Hamilton

Dr. Hamilton can be contacted at:

Email: william@central-view.com