Not a Father/Daughter Thing

This is one story in a series of stories that tell about a backpack trip to Europe in the spring of 1976 by myself in an effort to run away from the pain of a broken heart. (To read from the beginning Google "The Ramblings of an Aging Baby Boomer" and go back to March 27th, "I'll Never Find Love Again.")

Saturday, April 17, 1976

Here's what happened after I got on the train in Wurzburg, Germany, yesterday.

There was no food at the Wurzburg train station and, of course, I was starving. When you can't have something, you want it more, or at least I do. At first I had a cabin by myself on the train, and I made myself comfortable with the seat reclined. I knew sleep was out of the question, but I just wanted to be alone. I wanted to think about him. Us. How can I get him to forgive me, take me back?  My cold has now settled in my chest, and I was feeling crummy.

I heard a tapping noise. When I looked up, there was a short, wide man about fifty in a white uniform standing next to a food cart in the aisle; he was tapping on the door window, smiling and pointing to the cart. I have such precious little money left, but I was so hungry. I got up and looked at what he had to offer.  He was unusually happy and speaking in a foreign language--German, I assumed. He put his arm around me and continued to talk excitedly. I was thinking that he was just a real friendly man. I bought a sandwich and a coke which cost $3.00. Ugh! After I handed him the money, he hugged me and kissed me on the cheek. I thought that possibly I reminded him of his daughter, the way he was acting. I accepted his big smile and smiled back. He grabbed both of my shoulders, holding me at arms' length, and then he kissed me quickly on the lips. Then he left.

It all happened so fast that I didn't know what to think or do. I wanted to believe that it was purely innocent, so I sat down, unwrapped my sandwich and started to open my coke when he reappeared. He took the coke from me, opened it and poured it into a glass. Now he was beginning to make me uncomfortable. I started eating my sandwich and looking out the window. He sat down next to me, and then he moved my hair away from my face. Not good. I shook my head and said, "nein" and moved away. He had now crossed the line. This was not a father/daughter thing. I just wanted him to go away. He stood up--I thought he was leaving--but instead he turned around and tried to push me down onto the seat.  He struggled to get on top of me and kiss me on the mouth at the same time. I kept turning my face away from his and flailing around. With both arms, I pushed as hard as I could to get him away from me. It worked. He stopped and sat down on the seat next to me for several long uncomfortable seconds and then he left.

After he left, my body was shaking so hard my teeth were clattering. What in the world was that? I thought. I tried to process what happened, and the only thing I could think was that from the beginning he had been propositioning me--a woman traveling alone; maybe I was a lady of the night--and all along I was smiling and accepting of his proposition. I blamed myself. I didn't mean to but I must have led him on.

The train stopped in Frankfort and a lot of people got on. I'm thinking they were going to Amsterdam to celebrate Easter weekend.

A young black American soldier and a German doctor got on the train and shared my cabin. It was a delightful five hours with these guys. Albert, the doctor, pointed at places of interest as we rode up the Rhine. There must have been eight to ten castles sitting on cliffs over-looking the vineyards, villages and river. It was beautiful.

Bruce, the GI from Frankfort, and I became fast friends. He said he was on a weekend pass and he was excited to be going to Amsterdam for the first time. By the time the train pulled into the station, it was assumed that we would be seeing this city together. We had talked so much that it felt like we'd known each other for more than a short train ride.

Without Willem as my tour guide, I was at a loss for what to do and where to go. Bruce had no clue either, so we just walked. We walked with no maps, no direction of any kind. We were the blind leading the blind. Bruce said he didn't care at all because he was just happy to be here.

There was this one street we walked down that first confused, then shocked me. I've never seen anything like it. It was a normal street like you would find in any big American city (Chicago or New York City) with retail shops with large plate glass windows that displayed the shops' merchandise. Except this merchandise for sale in the windows was ladies. It was unbelievable. Store front after store front after store front for blocks had scantily-clothed women in different room settings trying to get our attention. They were acting sexy and motioning for the people walking by to come in. My mouth wouldn't shut. I was stunned by what we were walking by but Bruce was loving it. Big smiles. He didn't seem surprised at all.

It is Easter weekend in Amsterdam and there were no rooms available at all, or at least that I could afford. I did find one room but it was $50.00 and I don't have $50.00. So Bruce and I got back on the train. Destination for me was the next closest town to Amsterdam (Leiden) that had a room for the night. I felt so bad; I needed a warm place to lay down my ailing body.