62nd Highway Patrol (MP)
 Germany      1948 - 1958


Stories of the Highway Patrol




by Edward F. Smith




As you well know, there was never a dull moment while patrolling the German autobahn.  There was always something, if not a traffic accident, aid -to- a -traveler, there were the escorts.  Some escorts required transporting an entire family from one location to another in their journey home after having a bad experience [traffic accident, or breakdown].  On occasions, there was also an airplane crash, which brings to mind the following story.


While on routine patrol one afternoon and near the end of my shift, I received a call that there had been an Air Force jet crash in a field near the town of Wiesloch.  Wiesloch was located just off the autobahn between Heidelberg and Karlsruhe.  Upon my arrival on the scene, I met with the German Landis Police who had arrived shortly before me.  It was not long before several other units arrived on the scene.  We were in the process of roping off areas which contained parts of the jet and crash scene.


We had discovered the body of the pilot who apparently had remained in the plane to steer it to the open field rather than allowing the plane to crash into the town of Wiesloch.  For the most part the body was intact except for his head.  The pilot had been decapitated.  We all assumed that the head would be in the helmet when found.  A search was underway and covered a wide area.  Crowed control was also a problem, this was left to the German Police.  While searching, I noticed that there was a small German boy who was also trying to be helpful by searching for parts of the jet.  I suddenly noticed the boys pace quicken, stop suddenly, bend over, and then return up-right position.  In his hands, I could see the helmet that we had been searching for.  The young boy turned in our direction at the same time he rotated the helmet in his hands.  The boy then observed that the head of the dead pilot was still in the helmet.  Looking directly at us, we could see the expression on his face; his eyes appeared to us as big as a silver dollar.  He dropped the helmet and ran across the field as hard as he could run, never to be seen again.


This story previously appeared in Volume # 2, Issue # 4, October 1999 of  "THE WHITE MICE"


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