When I became of legal age, I was in the middle of my training as an industrial mechanic, which I successfully completed. I worked for a year at the company where I had trained, but this time was marked by bullying. However, the money I earned allowed me to take my first major trip — initially meant to be my only one before I returned, worked, built a house, found a girlfriend, and started a family. But life doesn’t always follow our plans. “Nothing is as constant as change.”
My journey took me across the USA for about a year. I flew from Frankfurt to Atlanta and then to Fayetteville, where I bought a Ford Escort and made a few modifications. I then drove from Lumberton, NC, heading south to Florida and onward to the West Coast. I lived in that car for several months: the trunk was my kitchen and closet, the driver’s seat was my bed, and the backseat was my storage, where I kept my bedroom during the day. I even had a clothesline over the rear deck to dry my clothes. It wasn’t ideal, but I miss those times.
In my black Ford Escort, with tinted windows and a red stripe, I drove from coast to coast. I visited places like New Orleans, Houston, and Phoenix, hiked in the Grand Canyon, and drove through Death Valley to San Francisco. I then followed Highway 101 north until I ended up in a small town called West Linn, Oregon, just south of Portland. This area became my home, and I went on many hikes in the Gorge.
When my time in the USA came to an end, I took my Escort and drove back to the East Coast. My return flight was from Fayetteville, but I was on the other side of the continent. The drive back took me through Utah, Colorado, New Mexico, Oklahoma, and Louisiana, then through Atlanta to Lumberton. There, I sold my car and flew back to Frankfurt.
Upon returning to Germany, I found myself in serious trouble with the state. I was arrested, and without access to a lawyer, I was tortured and beaten. During interrogations, I was repeatedly asked the same questions: why I had returned to Germany, what my purpose here was, and who I was working for. Despite my constant insistence that I knew nothing, no one believed me.
This ordeal lasted for some time. I was locked naked in a freezing cold room, tiled entirely in white. The situation changed when a table and two chairs were brought into the room. A man entered, and he was different. He spoke to me calmly and kindly — there were no more beatings, no electric shocks, and no more threatening psychopaths. Just him and me, having a normal conversation.
After a while, he stood up and left the room. Shortly after, I heard someone outside say to close the door. The man simply responded that I was innocent and truly knew nothing about what was going on. Suddenly, my clothes were thrown into the room, and I was told to get dressed and come out.
When I did, they forced me to sign a document. I wasn’t allowed to read it. I was only told that it said I had been treated well. They warned me that if I claimed otherwise, I would disappear without a trace. Shortly after, I was released. But instead of going home, I was taken to the Bundeswehr, where I served for a period.
At first, my time in the Bundeswehr was tough, and I was accused of many things. But later, everything was cleared up, and I experienced a world that both disappointed and fascinated me. I spent some time in Calw and left the Bundeswehr a few years later as a SFC.
During my time in the Bundeswehr, I founded an IT company that did quite well. But nothing lasts forever, and people change. I became seriously ill and fell into a coma. After recovering, I had to relearn everything — from walking to reading and writing.
At the Hohenurach Clinic, I was declared incapacitated, and my life fell apart. Later, I was made a slave and endured a world I never thought possible in Germany. I was accused, interrogated by the police, and a man from a Federal Office (BfV) told me to keep quiet — Germany had enough scandals and didn’t need another one.
But that’s another story.