DAIWI. Chuck Pfeifer

      I was assigned to the 10th Special Forces Group, based in Bad Tolz, Germany, where the incomparable and beautiful Alps loomed in the background. The intense training in Bad Tolz never stopped - never-ending and thorough: dawn-to-dusk, weapons training, climbing and parachute jumps, sometimes at night. Big tough guys from all over Europe came there to train in 1967 and 1968.

      On one of our night jumps, an inverted “L” lighted the landing zone. The pilot mistook the lights of the city for the drop zone. One of my buddies landed on some unfortunate homeowner’s chimney. He laid there swaying in the wind attempting to untangle himself. Finally, the homeowners, having heard the thud, ran out to see what caused the commotion and helped him to the ground.

      I landed back-to-back with a hay rake — one of those big ones with huge wheels and about 20 feet wide. “Shit!” I exclaimed, lying quiet for a couple of minutes while assessing my condition. I was feeling pretty foolish. I do not know where the rest of the group landed, but everyone was safe, either by sheer luck or expertise. There were some really surprised people on the ground. I have had some near misses, and a good bit of fear in my jumps, but no serious injuries. I thought back on that unfortunate jump in Schweinfurt, Germany, hoping, but not believing, I would never have to do another jump. I managed to conquer most, if not all, of my anxiety about jumping, but I was never able to dispel it completely.

      Through a mutual friend, I became acquainted with Ernst Von Stade, a German Count. He invited me to his home, where we shot birds and skeet. A gracious host and gentlemen, he often invited me as his guest to attend Munich’s opera house. He liked me, he said, because I was a “high bred” American, an alpha male, and Special Forces. He was impressed, and I enjoyed his company. We philosophized about war and he recounted his uncle’s experience while fighting in Russia during WWII. He indicated he bore no animosity about former enemies. “It was simply black and white,” he offered. I knew what he meant. After my return home, Ernst and his wife visited me in New York. They loved our City, and I was proud to introduce it to them.

      My commanding officer at Bad Tolz recognized my potential and probably liked me personally. I suppose it was a little of both. Our unit needed a highly-trained, all-around officer, not just for counter-insurgency situations, but also in water specialties. I was sent to Greece for two months of additional, intense and difficult water training. I swam for long distances and was yanked out of the water by high-speed boats with loop arrangements on their sides. This was not fun, nor easy, but it was necessary. I now wondered if my commanding officer at Bad Tolz liked me as I thought, or actually hated me and found a way to inflict punishment.

      I practiced demolition work on distant islands with Georgios Panagoulis, a highly-trained Greek Army Special Forces soldier, with great leadership abilities. He became a new friend, and often invited me to dinner with him and his generous and gracious mother. After dinner and some polite conversation, Georgios would rise from his chair, kiss his beloved mother on the forehead, and say to me, “Come on, let’s go to Asteria Beach, flirt with the girls and have a few more drinks.” I was always ready for that. I admired Georgios, loved and accepted him as someone who would be a life-long friend. He spent a lot of his childhood during the Axis occupation of Greece in World War II on the Ioian Island of Lefkada. In spite of his skills and training, he was killed in a training accident about a year after I met him. I was curious about his unnecessary death, and think it may have been related to his brother’s activities in opposition to the Regime of the Colonels. His brother was also killed in a suspicious car crash, widely believed and accepted as having been caused, as well, by the ruling Colonels.

      My on-the-job Special Forces training continued throughout Europe. During time off and weekends I traveled to Switzerland to see a girlfriend, always returning to Bad Tolz.