62nd Highway Patrol (MP)
 Germany      1948 - 1958

Stories of the Highway Patrol

 


MEMORIES Of SECKENHEIM

 

by  Floyd Bauldoff

 

 

 

 

 

I was stationed at Seckenheim located on the autobahn between Heidelberg and Mannheim. While reviewing an old photograph of George Dvorak, I noticed that there was a small shed near the radio tower. It reminded me that it was one of two that I built under the direction of Capt. Wendell Houghton [Detachment commander] to store combustible materials.

 

Capt. Houghton was one of the finest officers that I ever served under. There were times when we had a few misunderstandings but, no real problems. I remember on this one particular occasion that we had a portion of new autobahn that was not yet open to traffic. Captain Houghton instructed me to hide and ticket all army and civilian vehicles using it. I informed the Captain that I did not want to hide, to which he quickly ask if I was disobeying his order? I stated that hiding was not very good police work. He looked at me for a moment and said you are right, now go get-em. The first one that I caught was a full bird colonel and his driver. The Col. was very irate and said that he was going to speak with my CO. When I got off duty, I heard that the Col. Had spoken with Capt. Houghton and complained about getting a ticket. The Capt. Answer according to our Desk Sgt. And our German secretory and translator was "sir you're in the wrong outfit.

 

I grew up in Pennsylvania around people who made their own alcoholic beverages out of whatever was available. Thinking that this was universally acceptable, I began making Fruit Jack in a large crock that I had purchased at a secondhand store. Soon the barracks was filled with the smell of fermenting fruit [pretty strong]! The Capt. Called me into his office and said "Bauldoff, I hear that you are making some kind of fermented booze". I stated that I was. He looked at me and said "I'm leaving now and when I come back, whatever it is will be gone". After he departed, we had a car wash party in the parking lot. Some of the guy's weren't doing so well with their washing after a few drinks of my home-made Fruit Jack. This went on about every two months. Capt Houghton was also from Pennsylvania where he grew up and this I am sure kept me from going to the brig.

 

One of the guy's by the last name of Seigle was an entrepreneur and was always buying cigarettes from those who didn't smoke. I thought that he was a terrible smoker until I found out that he was selling them on the Black

 

Market. He always said that he wanted to have enough money to buy a new Chevrolet when he got out. The only problem was that he would put more money in to his soldier's savings than he was making and got caught. These are only a few of the many cherished memories that I have while serving in the Highway Patrol.

 

 


This story previously appeared in Volume # 12, Issue # 3, July-August-September 2009 edition of "The White Mice"


 

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