My previous three posts talked about my three years as a gay teacher in a British army school in West Germany in the late 70s/early 80s. This post focuses on my busy and adventurous social/love life during that time.

As luck would have it, within just a few weeks of my arrival in West Germany in the autumn of 1978 to start my teaching job, I received a letter from my Australian friend and ex-London flatmate, Jeffrey Stewart. He informed me that, earlier that year in San Francisco, he’d met a sweet German gay Lutheran vicar-in-training, Lorentz, while they both had been living there. As one did in those days, they had a little fling.

“Since you’re both in the same country and he’s very sweet – and handsome”, Jeffrey wrote to me, “why don’t you look Lorentz up? Here’s his contact information…”

So I did look him up and, serendipitously, Lorentz lived in a village which was less than 5km from the base. We couldn’t have planned that better. He, like me, had just started a new position. His was as a “vicar in training” program undertaking an internship at the Lutheran church in the village, living in the “granny flat” of the home of its vicar.

I immediately invited Lorentz to a dinner in our mess and he bravely agreed to turn up to meet me, a stranger, on a British army base no less!

As, again, one did in those days, our relationship started off with a fling – that very first evening, if truth be told – right after dinner in the Mess with my new colleagues. Having a fling didn’t stop us from heading off the next weekend together to Düsseldorf, a 20 minute drive away, to squeeze our butts onto the packed postage stamp sized dance floors of the Incognito and the Acapulco on Charlottenstraße – the gay area of Düsseldorf. My always-present Spartacus Guide helped me find those.

Just down the street from the bars was the heavily cruised park, Der Hofgarten, where we’d often go to finish off the night, so to speak.

Or we would drive in the other direction to the small town of Roermond just across the border in the Netherlands. We’d have an Indonesian meal and meet the Dutch lads at de Pannehof, a crowded bar with a backroom which I’d never experienced up to that point. A pleasant new treat.

A bit further afield and packed with bigger crowds was Köln (Cologne) with bars with names like Baccarat, Platz Jabbek and the Pimpernel, plus saunas galore.

If we wanted a quick drink or cruise, we could go to our local bar in Mönchengladbach, the Germaniastube, which was dark and usually minus many people. Or the Jadghütte. Nearby, there was a park with quite active cruising where I’d sometimes find myself strolling of a warm summer’s evening or, frankly, in any weather.

A friend with multiple benefits

I can’t emphasize enough that, because of meeting Lorentz, my years in West Germany were hugely enriched. I was the beneficiary of not only his friendship but also his extensive knowledge of so much of his country’s rich architectural, musical, religious and political history. Lorentz and I always had lots to talk about, especially given that we were both in careers where we had to step gingerly with regards to our homosexuality.

From my end, I think I brought a bit of gay/lesbian political thinking into Lorentz’s life, talking with him about my Gay Left experiences and as well as my work in the trade unions. I did a bit of research and found a gay men’s “Männergruppe” at the University of Düsseldorf (now called Heinrich-Heine-Universität Düsseldorf) and we went to several of their meetings and social events. They were my people!

Given that we both had adventurous spirits, we were also happy to explore not only those gay scenes but also to take trips out in all directions with Lorentz as my guide. Here are a few shots of some of them.

A Little Hiccup

A little hiccup, however, occurred very early in our friendship/flingship. Lorentz had told me that he’d recently become boyfriends with a certain Michael in Hamburg. Both of us were shocked when, a week or so after Lorentz and I had met and we were coming home from the clubs, who should we see waiting at Lorentz’s front door but the boyfriend! He had driven all the way from Hamburg one Friday to surprise Lorentz. Well, he certainly got a surprise meeting me with Lorentz.

You’ll be happy to learn that I made a quick and polite exit. I knew my place.

Despite that, the next day the three of us had a peaceful and pleasant dinner together. Not only that, Michael said I’d be very welcome to come to Hamburg with Lorentz anytime and I could stay at his place. Not ones to waste time, Lorentz and I drove to Hamburg the following weekend and the three of us hung out together amicably and delightfully.

We made many trips to Hamburg over the following years. As a longtime Hamburger and man about town, lawyer and fluent in Italian language and culture, Michael added even more to my enjoyment of my time there. What luck I had meeting the two of them.

Lorentz enriched my life not only during my time in Germany but for the rest of my life – we have remained friends to this day – 45 years later. Michael and Lorentz became less close over the years so I lost touch with him but not before David (my now husband) and I had a two week vacation with them both in the Marche region of Italy in 2007. Marvellous.

Learning German

Since I was going to be living in West Germany for three years, I was determined to develop, if not fluency, at least a very good working knowledge of German. Therefore, within a few days of my arrival, I enrolled in a weekly German evening class, at first on the base and, in the following years, in language schools in Mönchengladbach. I stuck to taking lessons throughout my entire stay. I still have the notes to show for it!

Some of my avid readers may remember that I did an intensive summer introductory course in German in Vienna back in 1974 which I talked about here. Of course, that was years earlier, but it did give me a head start.

The first hurdle to learning German was that Lorentz spoke virtually perfect English and, as far as I could tell, was happy to do that, especially when I first arrived and I was struggling. Michael, although also fluent in English, was more determined to improve my German so he mostly spoke to me in that language which was very helpful.

The Dinner Party Test

My ability to learn languages is adequate but certainly not ideal. As many of you know, I have lived here in Montreal and I can get on perfectly fine in serviceable French but I would still fail what I call the dinner party test. That is, being able to hold the floor during a dinner with friends and argue your point voraciously and rapidly in French especially after the wine has flowed. At those events, I’m more of a listener than my usual talker role.

Long story short, I got to that same serviceable level in German including partaking in some of those dinner party conversations. My peak was passing this Goethe Institute “Mittelstufe” test in the last months of my time in West Germany.

Here’s my certificate. “Ausreichend” means Sufficient and is the lowest passing grade; “Befriedigend’ is Satisfactory. You’ll notice that I didn’t get any “Gut” (Good) or “Sehr Gut” (Excellent).

Manfred – another friend with his own benefits

During my entire third year, I did have another regular friend with benefits – Manfred. In contrast to Lorentz, Manfred’s English was close to non-existent. Therefore we mostly spoke in German. And he could help me with my assignments!  On top of that, he was affectionate, kind and fun to be with.

I had first met Manfred in Mönchengladbach’s cruising park late one warm September evening in 1980. My diary tells me that Manfred and I spent that night together and many more over the next year. As we both had busy days, “Picked Manfred up at 9pm for an overnight” was a very frequent entry in my diary.

We did take day trips on weekends to local spots – gay and/or touristy but Manfred wasn’t a big explorer. He didn’t have much time nor money nor, it seemed, interest. As well, he was a student music teacher and, to earn money, he bravely left my bed around 5am most mornings to clean a pub and be finished in time for his classes and practices.

When he performed, I’d go to hear him either sing in his choir or play his saxophone in his band. I found this photo online of his fusion band – Mosaik.

As with Lorentz, we had an open relationship. My diary records that I sometimes would go cruising and ran into him out in the park also cruising! Once I went to meet him at his home to find him having breakfast with some guy by the name of Detlef. You’ll know from my earlier posts that all this was normal for many of us gay men during this period.

As my time in West Germany was coming to an end, I remember feeling sad because I knew that, unlike with Lorentz, my chances of keeping in contact with Manfred would be minimal. I sensed he didn’t want to continue connecting if I didn’t live nearby. On the last day that I saw him at the end of August 1981 before I returned to London, I record that we both wept and held each other tight as it was our last goodbye.

I can’t tell you what happened to Manfred. I hope he had or is still having a long and happy career as a music teacher and/or musician.

Paul

I also want to tell you about Paul, my third (and only other) friend with benefits during this period, although not as omnipresent as Lorentz or Manfred.

In January 1980, I took a trip to Maastricht, a beautiful small city at the southern tip of the Netherlands, about an hour away from where I lived. I visited it often because I thought it was the coolest place ever with its river meandering through the town, its unique Dutch architecture, its “bruin cafes” (pubs with warm traditional interiors of dark wood panelling and furnishings) and streets full of trendy Dutch people, who can out-trendy the best of us. All without the big city hassle of Amsterdam – and with fewer tourists.

On a side note, I’ll mention here that Maastricht was where I encountered my first ever gay café – Coffeeshop Downtown – with its homoerotic art and photos on the walls and packed with gay men. All we’d had in the past was night time bars and clubs and other assorted dark nightlife. This was bright and cheery in the full daylight! Never had I seen anything like that before. There was a Coffeeshop Downtown in Amsterdam too which I always visited whenever I was in that city.

Back to my story. On this particular occasion, I was in Maastricht for a Pink Party organized by COC – a crucially important Dutch gay/lesbian/trans organization started in the 1940s that continues to this day. At the party, I met young Paul who lived nearby and was in town visiting friends. We fell for each other and wrote and phoned often. Because we didn’t live close to each other, though, our get-togethers over the next year and a half were sporadic but certainly memorable.

Like Manfred, he also had a musical bent and was full of ambition. Unlike Manfred, he had more energy and was happy to be driven hither and dale in my yellow Renault to wherever my Michelin and Spartacus Guides directed us.

Also unlike Manfred, he wanted us to keep in touch after I left Germany. So, on a visit back to West Germany a year after I’d moved away, I went to Maastricht to visit Paul and I had a bit of a surprise when he introduced me to his female flatmate Felice who, he shyly told me in an aside, was also his lover. He was coming out to me as bisexual! That was unexpected but, of course, I rolled with it. I’m very open-minded! Especially because he also seemed happy to take up our sexual relationship where we’d left off.

Paul and I remained connected for over ten years. He came to visit me twice in London during the 1980s – once on his own for a wild New Year’s Eve celebration at the Two Brewers gay bar in Clapham with my friends. And another time with Felice who seemed more of a solid partner by then. However, in a later letter which I still have, he told me the relationship had turned rocky. I’m not sure if that was because of interpersonal difficulties or that he wasn’t as bisexual as I thought he might have been.

Our final face to face was on a trip I took to Amsterdam in 1989 where Paul now lived. I don’t remember any sign of Felice during that visit. Wherever he ended up on the Kinsey scale, I hope he’s happy in his love life and with his music.

One more love

I have to confess that I had one more love during my stay in West Germany. And that was driving and touring. I mentioned in another post that one of the reasons I decided to take this job was because I had still lots of desire to explore more of Europe and I knew that would be much easier to do from there than from the other side of the Channel.

To do that, I would need a car. One of the perks of working for the British Forces in West Germany was that you could buy a new car tax-free as long as you took it back with you to the UK when your tour came to an end. I plunged for a Renault 5 only because I’d driven a Renault 4 for many years in London so I was used to it. I won’t tell you how many repairs that car needed over the years so I should have learned my lesson but I stuck to my brand anyway. And it was available in yellow!

One advantage/disadvantage of this deal was that you had to pick up your new car from the factory. So that meant a trip to near Paris for me. I didn’t complain as I had friends there with whom I could stay overnight with benefits.

Oh – did I mention that petrol/gas was tax-free too? At least in West Germany. Our cars had special license/number plates to identify us. You can get a glimpse of that black and white plate in the photo above. That plate, though, proved to become dangerous by the late 80s when the IRA began targeting British army personnel, so they were discontinued.

Bringing the car back with me to the UK meant that I needed one with the steering wheel on the right ready for the British driving on the left. So for all of my three years in Europe driving thousands of miles, I drove with a steering wheel on the “wrong” side. I somehow just got used to it. I was lucky never to have had any problems with that, even though I had problems with the car!

Here’s a list of the excursions I did with my (kind of) trusty Renault 5:

I compiled this list more for my own sake (I love making lists) than yours because I wanted a summary of the many places I was lucky enough to travel to over my time in West Germany in that car of mine. What a privilege.

This list does not include the dozen trips or so I made to Amsterdam, the ten trips I made to Hamburg nor the multiple trips back to the UK to see my friends in London and Colchester. Just saying.

• Major Summer Trips:
  • Summer 1979 with Peter Chadwick
    • Northern Spain and Basque Country:
      • Valence, Barcelona, Sitges, Tarragona, Zaragoza, Burgos, Santander, Bilbao, San Sebastian, Dieppe, London
  • Summer 1980 with Peter Chadwick
    • East Germany, Czechoslovakia, Hungary, Yugoslavia, Austria:
      • Kassel, Weimar, Dresden, Prague, Telč, Bratislava, Budapest, Pécs, Sarajevo, Mostar, Dubrovnik, Split, Zadar, Rab Island, Kötschach, Munich, MG
  • Summer 1981 with Peter MacMillan
    • West/East Germany, Austria, Hungary, Northern Yugoslavia:
      • Berlin, Nuremberg, Melk, Vienna, Budapest, Ljubljana, Rab Island, Innsbruck, Munich, MG 
• Local/Shorter Trips:
  • October 1978 with Fraz
    • Koblenz & Mosel Valley
  • November 1978 with Norah and Tony
    • Liège (also, interestingly, called Luik in Flemish and Lüttich in German)
  • February 1979 with Robert Tucker
    • Eifel region & Lahn Valley
  • Easter 1979
    • Paris, Basel, Milan, Genova, Cannes, St. Tropez, Toulon, London
      • My car was broken into twice on this trip – in Genova and London; the latter theft included my diary which broke my heart
  • May 1979 with Jeffrey Stewart & Nigel Young
    • Romantische Straße, Munich, Heidelberg, Lahn Valley
  • Summer 1979
    • Flensberg, Sylt & Copenhagen
  • October 1979
    • Antwerp, Ghent, Brugge
  • December 1979 with Henry Tunbridge
    • Liege, Paris, London
  • February 1980
    • Antwerp & Brussels
  • March 1981 (by train) with Lorentz
    • Sent/Scuols, Switzerland
  • Easter 1981 (by train)
    • Rome, Taormina, Siracusa, Palermo
  • May 1981 with my mother and stepfather
    • Black Forest and Strasbourg
  • June 1981 with my father and stepmother
    • Nijmegen and WW2 Battlefields

I could tell stories about each one of these trips and I have photos from most of them. But I certainly think that’s enough from me for now. In my next post, I’ll talk about my return to London where I lived for the following nine years.