From the S&S archives:
Celebrating freedom

ANYONE LONGING FOR a moment on the pinnacle of joy could have wanted nothing more during the past week than to be a German in Berlin.

But being there as an American wasn't a shabby second choice.

The festive arrival of more than a million East Germans moved members of the local U.S. military community, many of whom the visitors hugged and kissed as they took their first steps into West Berlin.

When the first waves of East Berliners streamed through Checkpoint Charlie near midnight Nov. 9, Army Staff Sgt. Nathaniel Brown watched in disbelief. He had watched two failed escape attempts during his two and a half years of duty at the checkpoint.

''Thursday night, I saw six East German border guards' hats coming this way — and the guards weren't attached to them. That's how relaxed it was down here," Brown said.

The 39-year-old military policeman from St. Louis worked at the checkpoint throughout the weekend. "It was unbelievable," he said. "It took awhile for the realization to sink in that this was actually happening. There must have been 15,000 people, and they were having a party here."

To many East Germans, the uniformed Allied soldiers at the crossing points were symbols of freedom. "A lot of East Germans wanted their pictures taken with the Allies. There were hundreds of occasions when that happened," said Maj. Bernard Godek, the Berlin Comd access control officer. The 36-year-old Huntington, N.Y., native also worked at Checkpoint Charlie over the weekend.

He remembered an older East German who was waiting to re-enter East Berlin. "He didn't even say 'hello' to me," Godek said. "He just said, 'What do you think?' When I said, 'I think this is beautiful,' he grabbed onto me. He just put his arm around my shoulders and pounded on my back. I saw all the emotional greetings between West and East Berliners, but to have someone come up to me is something I'll never forget."

Pfc. Richard Godfrey and Spec. Dale Gardner will probably never forget their experiences at Freedom Bridge, Godfrey said.

"One man in his early 50s had just come across the bridge," Godfrey said. "He was crying, and he came up and hugged both of us."

The 23-year-old military policeman from Miami also remembered an elderly woman who gestured back across the bridge to indicate she was from Potsdam, East Germany.

"She handed us some flowers and said she knows the Americans helped keep West Berlin free and that is what gave her the chance to come across the bridge," he said.

People also gave away their own money spontaneously.

Sean Meehan, 15, son of an Army officer, handed one-mark and two-mark coins to East German children he saw at Checkpoint Charlie. Medford, Wis., native Karrie Hargot, 20, a student working' temporarily in Berlin, said she saw a man at Checkpoint Charlie giving 20-mark bills to East Germans walking through the open barriers.

Army Staff Sgt. Rafael Alvarez didn't have to leave American turf to sense the joy that pervaded the city. One look at an East German car parked at the Army's Duppel Housing Area was enough. Someone had balanced a bottle of champagne, a red rose, a lace necklace and a welcome note on the windshield wiper on the driver's side.

Many Americans were drawn to the raucous celebrations at the Brandenburg Gate. Although touching the Wall is officially forbidden because it's actually inside the demarcation line, few could resist the chance to stand on the hated symbol of people separated by politics.

Spec. Ron Branga of Nahant, Mass., an infantryman, is getting out of the Army in three weeks.

"I'm just glad to have been here when it happened," said Branga, who joined the celebration.

"People would have a hammer and chisel and knock off a few pieces of the Wall, put a few in their pockets, and then chip of some more and throw them to the crowd."

The 22-year-old got his piece, too. "I chipped it off myself," he said. "It was a good feeling because the Wall was something everyone hated for so long."

He said his fellow soldiers also welcomed the dramatic changes in the city.

"Everyone still takes their jobs seriously but the threat" doesn't seem to be there as much."

Hargot joined the people sitting, standing and dancing on the Wall.

"It was great, but it was packed," she said. "Somebody brought a rickety old ladder that was missing about three rungs. I had to wait about two or three hours before I could get up there. It's something you'll never be able to do again. I'm going to have to go back to school and tell everyone I was here."

The joy unleashed by East Germany's decision to end travel restrictions was not limited to Berlin.

Along the border, it looked like somebody tore a hole in a bag of M&M's and a stream of colored Trabants, Wartburgs and Ladas poured out and poured out and kept on coming.

They putted along autobahns, flashing their lights and bleeping their horns at welcoming Westerners who were delighted at their arrival.

Flocking to visit relatives, they appeared on door steps, often without warning and nothing more than smiley faces and "Hey do you remember me — we were relatives 28 years ago?"

Often the East Germans' tiny cars captured nearly as much attention as their drivers.

A crowd of about 15 local residents watched Nicholas Munter, a mechanic for an automobile club, as he leaned into the engine of a stalled Trabant at a rest stop. The removable grill lay on the street.

"I've repaired about 200 this week," Munter said.

Nearby, a couple of GIs, one with his wife and baby, watched the East Germans arrive.

Embarrassed, the young mother held a box of German toffee that a local resident, who had mistaken her for a visitor from the East, had given her. . "I am sorry," the GI's wife said the West German woman had told her, "We have not much money, but please take this."

(Contributing to this report: Effie Bathen in Rudolphstein, West Germany.)