Papers Please

NOTE: I've been informed that my memory didn't do a thorough job when recalling this episode. A shipmate has notified me that he has a clearer recall of the events of this story. In my defense, I am using an old brain here.

The first narration is my memory of a trip to Austria.

That one is followed by Jay Yurth's (You can find his book - Weight of Memories - on Amazon.com) recount of the same story. I think his rendition is more factual than mine.

We were in Trieste Italy, up at the Northeast portion of the boot, on the Adriatic Sea. So we thought we'd grab a train and check out Austria.
Crossing borders in Europe is a potential adventure because you never really know what kind of grief they'll be giving you from one country to the next. Upon leaving Italy there was no problem at all. The conductor guy just worked his way down the train stopping everyone he saw and asking for "Passporto". When he got to our block, we just showed him our green NATO ID cards and he was satisfied.
"Gracie".
"Prego".
"What was that about?"
"Don't worry about it Frank. We're crossing the border."
"To Austria? We're in Austria now? Don't look like it."
"Yea, and what do you expect Austria to look like".
"Germany man. This don't look like Germany. Still looks like Italy to me".
"Have you ever been to Germany Frank? "
"No".

So anyway. We spent a fun time in Salzberg and rode through some of the Alps and oohed and aahed and drank what we could and ate whatever it was.
And later that day we were back on the train heading back out of Austria into Italy once again. It was extremely important that we get back to the ship because we were pulling out in the morning. If you've been with the USN then you know it's a very serious crime to miss the movement of a ship. It's called "Missing Movement". It's bad. There was no way we were going to let that happen.

Somewhere near the border an Austrian conductor began working his way down our car. Stopping at each little room and demanding, "Reisepass, reisepass".
We all whipped out the green NATO cards.
"Reisepass" he said, sticking his head into our berth. Everyone presented their own special accent or flourish as we once again displayed our NATO ID cards.
"Reisepass", he said, "Papers" as he realized we were Yankees.
"These are our papers", Desisto said. "They got us in here, they'd better get us out".
"No, no, Papers, Und SumGermanGibberishush ThatIdintVunderstund".
He was scowling now. Making motions that suggested to me that he was ready to bump us off the train. "Do something guys", I said. I think we're in trouble here.
"He can't kick us off the train", Pitts said.
"Reisepass", the conductor said.
And we were all starting to worry.

So Martin.
Now Martin was just a kid. A great guy and maybe a cruise or two later he probably matured into a really savvy world traveler but this cruise he was just a new kid that wasn't very smart. But this day he was genius.
We all had no papers except for that danged green NATO ID card. But Martin was actually on leave. He had official looking leave papers in his hand. He took them out and showed the conductor his leave papers.
The conductor said "Zumping in German azbut thez papurs", and Martin said "No, man. They're for all of us", while motioning around with his hand to suggest they included everyone. The other guys caught on quickly. "Yea, yea. All of us man. They're for all of us".
Mr conductor probably realized about then that he'd have a lot more crap on his hands if he kept us than let us go.
So he relented.
We settled back in the train.
Whew.
What a day.

Jay Yurth's memory of the same story:

My recollection is that Steve Martin was not with us. I guess in your mind I was the Martin character for this trip. I do have the pictures. It was Cecil Nixon, Richard Pitts, Frank Cousineau and Me and you.

Here is how I remember it.

After riding around the city of Salzburg in a horse drawn buggy and seeing the old monastary where they made beer and the gargoyles on the buildings in sub zero weather we finally found a tour place that took us in a van, via a pub, where we got one HUGE drink in a HUGE hinged cap covered ceramic stein, we could barely lift when full (1 stein equals 4 beers - we all peed twice in the next hour on the side of the road) that took us to a mountain side that they said was where Julia Roberts (sic - he means Julie Andrews) had spun around on, while singing "The hills are alive with the sound of music" for the same movie. Then back in the van where we passed by the Von Trapp house, we could not enter, we finally went to find breakfast at the train station. Seems all the kids ride the train to school and as we strolled aimlessly around, we were almost trampled by the mad exit of some 500 kids who were dressed accordingly for the very cold weather, for which we were not. Surviving the stampede but having little money left, (the Sound of music tour and beer took most of it) we pooled our money and got one semi cooked egg in a funny cup with the top part of the shell cut off the egg and some bread for all of us. We were very hungry but our dollars did not exchange very well into Shillings or whatever their one printed side weird shaped paper money was there. Finally we got on the train for a trip back to the ship.

When the conductor stupped us and asked for papers and after not accepting the ID cards, during the next few moments that felt like forever, I brandished the 5 corbon copied "CHIT" that I had to run up the chain of command to get 5 funky signatures on at the last moment to take a 3 day pass.

When I showed it to the 4 conductors, two from one country and two from the other, and just before they started brandishing their side arms to throw us off, I started saying "EL Presidentee" and pointed to the last signature on the chit as I shoved the chit towards their faces. When they heard that phrase, they all looked at one another and sort of bowed to us and left apologetically. You all patted me on the back and fell back asleep.

Just for reference, I still have that "get out of jail" request chit in my forever-save lock box. I have told that story many times at parties but you may have forgotten another moment in that adventure.

When we got to a station where we had to change trains, we got to the transfer central area and someone noticed that you were not with us. We looked all over for you and did not see you anywhere. We checked the closest bathrooms, eateries, benches and walls. No Bob.

Very concerned that we lost our LPO, we went up to the info lady and told her your name to have you meet us there. She announced, in some weird accent, Will Mr Hohulssklis report to the information desk, Mr. Roberto Houhowluski please report to the information desk. That's Roberto Howhohowlskis. Hell we didn't even know it was you who she was announcing for. All hope was lost of ever finding you. We were kinda freaking out at this point, having just survived a possible "locked up abroad" thing at the border. We all went back to the train we had disembarked that luckily had not left yet. We tried to board but of course we were met with resistance from a conductor. Pleading our case emphatically in a language hd did not understand, he let one of us on to search. You were not there.

Amid all the commotion, someone started walking up the landing a bit and when they passed a pole...there you were on the other side leaning up against it, fast asleep. We couldn't see you because you were about as thin as the pole at that time. We shook you and you awoke to our tears of joy, not grasping the reason for our emotional outputs. We got on the correct train and headed back to Trieste.

Here are some pictures of the trip. The one with the clouds is from the train in the Alps. We were higher than the clouds, so cool.