My Trip to Europe

When the train stopped in Cheb, the port of entry, I heard the
command, ‘No one gets off’. Being in the gangway at the end
of the car, I stepped to the door for a look and there stood a
soldier, complete with a shooting-iron, so I looked out of the
other side of the car and there, too, was posted a guard and no one
got off until the ‘Kontrol’ (which is their word for
customs) got through with their shake-down. On this train was a
lady and her daughter who seemingly were bringing in clothing from
Germany for resale. I was later accused by a passenger as having
aided her getting by the Kontrol; then another time some Communist
was going to have my camera, Other than that I got along quite
well.

Getting back into Germany 17 days later was really a relief of
nervous tension. While in Czechoslovakia, I saw grain being cut by
hand, also by a reaper, a grain binder and also by crude looking
combines built in Budapest, Hungary. I made several trips from
Prague to Kladno and on the last trip one lane of the divided
highway was closed off and covered with a straw-colored substance.
I asked another passenger what was being done and his reply,
‘They are drying grain.’ Sure enough, another quarter of a
mile further, they were dumping sacks and spreading the grain in a
uniform layer on the cobblestones. The next day it rained lightly
and a crew was sent to cover the grain with canvasses and another
crew to scoop it up, sack and haul it to shelter.

At another place where a field was cut by a binder, there were 5
or 6 Grandmothers picking up heads that were lost by the binder. At
another place I saw a steel thresher about 2 years old threshing
rye from stacks and about half the crew were women. The grain was
sacked and weighed as each sack had to contain a certain weight. A
baler set at the rear of the thresher baled the straw and pushed it
up a slide to the top of the stack. I saw a few steam outfits in
fields, but at a distance. They used portable engines with tall
smoke stacks.

Being without a car, I couldn’t explore the country as
I’d liked to have done. I believe there are more cars in
Schuyler than in Prague and none in the villages over there, so my
travels had to be by train, bus and on foot. Most of the trains are
coal-burning steamers. Before I forget, I saw women working on the
track replacing ties. At another place a crew of women were digging
a ditch about 3 feet deep and doing it with shovels, and another
gang of gals were lining this ditch with stones to prevent
erosion.

I visited in seven homes over there. One had a gas-burning water
heater for the bathroom, another had a coal-fired heater. None of
the kitchens had hot water on tap. None had refrigerators. Two had
outdoor toilets, one of these belonged to a Communist party member
who went to work at 7:30 a.m. and always returned after dark. One
home had a telephone and TV. Unless a man is a Communist, his
children cannot go to college. Wages are poor and living costs
high. I saw very little meat in the homes. Beef is (in our weights
and values) $2.00 per pound, pork is $2.25, sugar $.60 per pound,
butter is $3.00 per pound, 2 oz. of tea $1.50, 25-30 Octane
gasoline is $2.00 per gallon, so I don’t wonder at the small
number of automobiles.

The rate of exchange is 7 crowns to 1 U.S. dollar, however, to
make the robbery less apparent to the American, he is given 14
crowns for each dollar. I had ham and eggs several mornings and the
checks were totaled 20 ¹/₁₀ crowns for each
breakfast. Other meals were also in a high bracket. Bus fare for 18
miles was 9 crowns.

All property and businesses have been confiscated by the
Communist regime. No one is happy because of that situation, even
the aforementioned Communist doesn’t wear his ‘red
star’ except perhaps at the office. The factories of Skoda and
those at Kladno are running day and night and the only thing I saw
new were big trucks, tanks and cannon. I saw some farm machinery at
the Czech State Fair and my guide and interpreter stated that there
was no need of displaying those machines as the ‘state’ was
the only buyer. This statement was, of course, in confidence.

Going back into West Germany was like going from poverty to
riches, even though most of the autos were small, the streets were
full of them. I headed to Cologne; at Remagen the bridge that
crossed the Rhine was taken by surprise in the war and later
destroyed, was apparently cut up for junk and removed. All that
remains are the towers on the east and west banks.

I spent a night in Cologne and proceeded to Ostend, Belgium.
North of Liege and up to Ostend, I saw the old threshermen’s
dream,- thousands and thousands of acres of grain in in the shock;
also many stacks.

After spending a night in Ostend, I boarded a boat for Dover,
England. From Dover, by train to Hereford and by bus to Ross on Wye
where I visited Derek Hackett who has an interesting collection of
tractors, most of them being English makes. The Hackett’s took
me by auto to Bishop Brothers near Ludlow to see a collection of
steamers, portables, tractions, rollers and show engines. Seemingly
the English never had ‘tandem compounds’ as they referred
to their engines as ‘compounds’. What we call
‘cross-compound’. They also have singles in the center
crank type.

Harvest had begun in England, but as on the continent, it was
drowned out by rain. Derek wrote in October that he’d finally
completed harvest.

Leaving England, I went to Prance, where I had the greatest
lingual difficulties of the whole trip. I did enjoy a day at the
Eiffel Tower in Paris, where I met a number of Americans. In Paris,
I saw those sidewalk ‘comfort stations’ for men. At Metz, I
was directed to the Bristol Hotel, the management speaking English.
When I asked the ladyclerk about a room, she asked, ‘Do you
want ze room viz ze douche?’ at the same time holding one hand
over her head with fingers spread wide, meaning by that gesture,
‘a shower’. I had to postpone my amusement to a later
time.

From Metz, I proceeded to Frankfurt, Germany, where I spent most
of a day at the International Trade Fair. Prior to then, I never
saw so many men’s and women’s clothes, rugs, furniture,
tableware, dishes, pens, pencils, pins, school supplies, wines,
liquors, cheeses, well you name it, it must be there somewhere.
That night at 11:30 we were USA-bound via Super Constellation. This
gas drinker required a stop at Shannon, Ireland, of 1 hours for
fuel, also much Irish whiskey came aboard due to its low price.

The next stop was Montreal, for more gas. About the last half of
the trip was rough due to bad weather. That plane rode like a
bucking broncho and it was a relief when it finally reached New
York. The flight from New York to Chicago was smooth as valvet and
Chicago never looked so good, although the sidewalks seemed to want
to repeat the motions of that Constellation. A good night’s
sleep after 22 hours in the air made a wonderful difference.

Then the next evening back to Schuyler via Milwaukee and Union
Pacific.