Friday 4 December 2009

An American Deserter in Berlin

It was early in the morning and I was buying some bread from a Bakery in Kreuzberg, east-central Berlin.

I crossed the road and saw a man in his early 20s with a black eye, and who looked like he was sleeping rough on the streets. He asked if I spoke English, I replied, 'yea, I'm British. Are you alright?'
He explained that he had been sleeping in a near-by park for the past week or so, he didn't know a word of German, had no money, and was hungry.
I immediately knew that he was American from his accent, and after taking him to the bakery to get some food and drink, we sat on a step outside and I asked how he had ended up in Berlin.
He told me that he was a soldier for the US army, until a week ago when he escaped from his base on the outskirts of Berlin. He was set to be deployed to Iraq the following morning. He was so scared that he deserted his post, and came to Berlin to seek help.
He was shaken up, and jittery like a big ball of nerves. I asked what I could do to help him.
He waited on the street whilst I went back to the bakery to use a phone book. I called the nearest hostel and got directions. I highlighted the route to the hostel, gave him my travel card, and looked in his eyes again. He was too scared to go. We walked to the U-Bahn station, but he was having second thoughts so we sat down.
He told me about his family in New Orleans.
He missed his wife and son a lot, and couldn't imagine that he would ever get to see them again. According to him, the alarm would be out and the military would be searching for him. With no papers, he couldn't go anywhere, get a job, rent a flat, and was too scared to stay in a hostel. His fear was that they would need some ID; of which he had none, and that they would know that he was American and alert the authorities.

It was about two years ago that I met this man in Berlin, who's name I have unfortunately forgotten.

I left him on that street trying to persuade him to go to the hostel.

I have no idea if he followed my advice, or if he continued sleeping in the park.
I have no idea where he is now, or if the people looking for him have found him.
I have no idea if he was a deserter for real.
I have no idea if he managed to see his wife and son again.

All I know is that he didn't want to die in a war he didn't believe in.

No comments:

Post a Comment

About Me

My photo
I am using this blog as a space to tell the stories of the people I have met; some photographed, some not. I'm a photojournalist covering a range of topics through my work.