An Unwelcoming Welcome

I arrived in Frankfurt, Germany first. Then was taken to Furth, where I was assigned to the motor pool.  I went to the company commander’s office and was introduced to him, and he was told that I was his new motor pool clerk.

He was polite enough. He called for the motor pool sergeant to come up and meet me. The motor pool was where all the army vehicles, trucks and jeeps were kept and maintained. The building was right next door to where we were.

The motor pool sergeant was a tall, lean black man. A very nice looking man. But when he saw me, he was not a happy man.

I was instructed to sit in the hall just outside of the commander’s office while they discussed things. The door was left open so I heard everything. Mostly I heard the sergeant angrily yelling that he had never had a woman in his motor pool, and he wasn’t going to have a woman in his motor pool.

Shortly thereafter the two men came out, the sergeant told me to follow him to the motor pool. Talk about tension so thick you could cut it with a butter knife!

We walked over to the motor pool and there was an office, plain and dirty, with a parts room behind it. I sat at the desk and smiled. What else could I do? I was the new motor pool clerk.

It began on the pages of a journal…

Sherry Briscoe has two passions: writing and working with writers. She has lived in Europe, and both the East and West Coasts of the U.S., has snorkeled with the stingrays and strolled through centuries-old castles. Her experiences have enriched her life and more importantly, her stories. (keep reading)