‘I’ll never forget the night the Elephant flew in to Berlin Zoo’
Bill declared. We’d all been silent for a few minutes; a round dozen of forty-or–sos - (or a dozen of round forty-somethings) - a few drinks showing on the judgement-ometer. All the awkward questions over, we knew who was still married to whom and who had finally come out. It was time to hear the old stories again. Tales from a city split by barbed wire and bricks: West Berlin had been all colour, while the East was as monochrome as the earnest films they allowed out into the world. We’d lived through it, the Cold War in the spy capital of the world. Seen the wall come down, watched the graffiti spread like eczema on formerly pristine Berlin walls. It had been an incredible time. And Bill would never forget the delivery of an elephant.
We had listened, more than watched, as the Cold War eventually thawed. Like the slush in the streets, it was messy. We professional eavesdroppers worked on the top of Berlin’s only hill; Teufelsberg, Devil’s Mountain; a grand name for little more than a hillock. Built from the post-war rubble even as the city was being dismembered by the four “allied” powers, the Americans wasted no time in establishing a listening post on the top. By the early Eighties, an engineer with a sense of humour had erected the structure known to the Berliners as “Der Pimmel auf der Himmel”, the Prick in the Sky.
All through the Eighties, we listened and listened, trying to piece together the intelligence puzzle. What were they capable of? Could they get 500 tanks to Hamburg, Bonn and Frankfurt in a day? Could they launch a strategic nuclear missile from an aircraft based just south of Berlin. Nobody was sure. So every report was a “possible indication of a possible incidence of a probable impossibility.” It was so vague. It was all a game. Bluffing on a scarcely credible scale. Or so it proved. The missiles in the silos didn’t work. We had heard the rumours of Soviet incompetence before glasnost’s arrival . Why would their armed forces be more efficient? But no, we did our bit; we kept intelligence budgets high to fight a horde of shadow boxers.
There was some excitement, Bill’s unforgettable elephant.
‘DA, SLON NA BORTY’ ‘Confirmed, Elephant on board’
The stamping of feet, raised voices,
-‘Don’t be ridiculous, you’re not taking this seriously! We are not reporting that!’
And we didn’t. But the rest room was full the next evening to watch the East German TV news, and the arrival of the elephant at Berlin Zoo via the Glienicke Bridge, like an exchanged spy.
