Monday, May 29, 1967, 0025 Central European Time, Warnemünde, East Germany

Björn had been in the middle of a dream about salmon fishing in the Yemen when he knocked four times.

[Language unknown: Ng wa. Nolenotr pehise nd hi OFKOR!]

It was a sign that he wasn't in the West any more, that was for sure. In the West, he'd have been allowed to continue the doze that he'd fallen into unexpectedly in his sleeper compartment.

His bosses at Maersk had given him an unusual facilitation assignment, which is why he was now lying in a Mitropa railway carriage that had just been shipped on the train ferry from Gedser to this place as part of the daily overnight train from Copenhagen to East Berlin. He was used to ferries; Zealand, where his town of Copenhagen was situated, had no fixed links to the outside world.


He was not used to being woken up on a train in the middle of the night by a border guard. The Wagon Lits company let you sleep while the attendant took care of the formalities. Not sure here it seemed.

He was now going to have to wake up, find his passport and present it to the passport control officer, along with five West German marks for the transit visa fee so he could cross this country for his actual destination, some place called Ostrava in Czechoslovakia. He had the visa for that place and a hotel booking, where he was to arrange the export of some ceramic products to West Germany... and work out who he could bribe to speed things up...
This message was last updated by the GM at 11:17, Tue 23 Oct 2018.

Bjørn sat up in his bunk and wiped his eyes, simultaneously reaching to the nightstand and retrieving his wrist watch. The Swiss timepiece told him that; first, the train was running slightly ahead of schedule, and second, he already missed the amenities of the West.

[Language unknown: "Iou, lesiveoun anas ni her manbleoul!"]

Aware that the GDR authorities weren't known for their patience, he pulled his briefcase from the cabinet and fished out his passport and related travel documentation. Quickly pulling on a shirt and pair of slacks, he opened the sliding door as he finished buckling his belt.

[Language unknown: "Rea set e, andthaeve. Diet ome wiadil re fosaroadck mo o on itpeun."]

Bjørn flashed the not-quite-a-smile his countrymen were known for at the passport official as he handed him the requested papers. Hopefully this won't take too long and I can get back to sleep, he thought to himself, stifling a yawn...
This message was last edited by the player at 15:37, Mon 22 Oct 2018.

Bjorn found himself facing a grey uniformed officer, a green band on his cap containing a cap badge with the familiar hammer, compass and ring of rye emblem of the German Democratic Republic. He was wearing a harness with a case that contained a work surface and various stamps, along with a pouch containing various coinage.

The Kingdom of Denmark had no diplomatic relations with East Germany - no Western nation did - hence he was having to do this i.e. buy his transit visa on entry.

The officer was a middle aged man, although Olsen, from his military service as a conscript in 1949 had some passing familiarity with rank insignia and this seemed off...


The officer looked through his passport and train booking confirmation letter. He'd only got a ticket as far as Berlin Ostbahnhof, so he'd need to collect the remaining ticket for Ostrava in East Berlin.

[Language unknown: Witinture eraeausta ma Erastistrthuersear, areentven? Ovemi Oerthiout? Prosi ers icaar ecacai na Omhe'thomhoom?]

[Knowledge Check roll: 4]

Waiting for the officer to go through his papers, Bjørn looked the man over. While he wasn't intimately familiar with East German uniforms, he realized this man wasn't your normal border official. He suddenly became nervous about the five mark note he'd slipped behind the first page of his travel documentation.

Generally such officials, especially the older ones, were more...pragmatic. The economic realities of the world made purchasing access to places one wasn't technically allowed to be much easier. That being said, one did occasionally run the risk of crossing a true believer. They were almost always the young ones, though. Even then, they would always run directly to their superior, who was inevitably more experienced in the ways the world worked, that would pull them aside out of earshot and explain that the money in their hand would do their family quite a bit of good, or pay for a very nice date with the lovely young lady they had been flirting with earlier that week, things that turning this person in wouldn't do. They'd be reminded of the mountain of paperwork that would need completion, and how, inevitably, the person would be released, because the person wasn't a spy, and they weren't a hero; they were an overenthusiastic border official who had delayed a businessman who had simply "temporarily misplaced their paperwork."

But this man was neither...an unknown...and that worried Bjørn.

[Language unknown: T, Evieom. Ameectthitra'sonbut. K onmina ilel k ardicandetra ovemi e t icaintsom sonichion. Ear saen und somlattiorat acmeha pa info'plse poroasenro. Res ivwa ai il ng...]

Bjørn trailed off, hoping the officer wouldn't press further.
This message was last edited by the player at 15:37, Tue 23 Oct 2018.

The officer found the five mark note and smiled.

[Language unknown: Oul staallrea. Entcomall vorss nc dierbe nteen koree tedonered si cacend.]

He reached for a transit visa card and started to write down Olsen's passport number when the carriage suddenly shook.

The officer muttered something under his breath as his pen went to the right sharply.

[Language unknown: Notratica ave to lapladlopo trmito ureeraiou pa. Whplhi etwas se thotr yinut aniler thing hassitfo daybleoun a any wehoes.] His voice sounded distinctly gritted.

He filled out the form, stamped it, then applied another couple of stamps in a blank page of Olsen's Danish passport.

There was the sound of a dog barking outside.

He returned the documents to Bjørn.

[Language unknown: Oul Traionint riarei eveal er toiopr sanprores. U sssa mo tr nandos and fo aienc?]

Olsen did - he'd been provided with one when boarding the train by the Mitropa attendant.

[Language unknown: Ut nc diis ou.]

The Passport Control officer gave him a quick salute then went down the corridor to rap loudly on someone else's door.

The train was currently only four carriages (a sleeper, a couchette, a seated coach and a postal carriage); the other Danish seating coaches had been left behind at Gedser. Three East German coaches would be added at Rostock, so the possibility of more interrupted sleep was real.

Now to wait for the Customs officer to go through his case.
This message was last edited by the GM at 09:54, Sat 27 Oct 2018.

Bjorn lays back down, hopeful to catch a bit more sleep before daybreak. Travelling through the Eastern Bloc was stressful enough...no need to add fatigue on top of it. As if having second thoughts, he sat up and dug through his briefcase, retrieving his leather tobacco pouch. The pouch and pipe inside of it had belonged to his grandfather, so he'd been told. Neither were ornate, but they were obviously of high quality. He packed the bowl with care and lit it with a match, careful to make sure it was extinguished before disposing of it in the ashtray on the fold out nightstand. He sat back, relaxed by the ritual and aroma. Looking out of his window, he saw the moon peaking out of the cloudy sky. Hopefully everything will go smoothly, and I can be back in Copenhagen by the end of the week.

He realised that the train was starting to moving as he saw the moon; they were being pulled off the ferry and his view out of the window, where the curtains were currently open, showed a faint whisp of steam from the engine that would be pulling them to Berlin.

Then they stopped again. He could a sign saying Warnemünde on a platform opposite him.

His relaxation was swiftly over as there came another rap on the door followed by a high pitched female voice.

[Language unknown: Korck omnail! Mapemi Willesart k esion OUT!]

Opening the door, he was met with a petite blue uniformed officer barely out of school, holding a black and white dog on a lead.


She reached into a bag and pulled out a customs form.

[Language unknown: Tiohistio tinvor-encsom liare canti hiev weli it laissa onero ilacevta seeeri. U loek ers wiset whishe'earredall notvented? Ul werestred k sincmi.]

The list of items prohibited for import into the German Democratic Republic was quite extensive, including literature anathema to socialism, pornography and militaristic children's toys.

The dog barked slightly. She let them go and he swiftly indicated the tobacco pouch on top of the open suitcase.

[Language unknown: Era outi, Thenee Nteut! Wil ol tohou derecthis?]

She walked swiftly over to the pouch and opened it.

[Language unknown: Le virwhesheith wi artingthu intithint?] she asked in rather poor Danish.

Bjørn looks over the young lady as he lets her into the small compartment, not quite sure what to make of the young East German officer. He engages with her in Danish, indulging her courtesy.

[Knowledge Check: 9]

[Language unknown: Miwas, u wa thstma le elomngen acck. Maoer ektoto n o chfiet, witr m?]

[Travel (Customs and Border Crossing) Check: 7]

[Language unknown: Es evive anill sta ort bere'liut la lat ar elsti arie st, ceouul eau as virersortsti. Ent weofrocapr howail.]

She checked over the case, pulling out various items of clothing and tapping parts of it to make sure there were no hidden compartments or anything.

[Language unknown: Ouleareau t oreortoer. Virdayine wi nt aschck. Siosro e ie.]

The officer was trying to look stern and tough, but just instead looked like a teenager having a strop. The uniform looked slightly too large for her. She turned every so often to make sure that the Dane was filling his form in.

She finished the examination, then took Olsen's completed customs form. She tore off part of it, then handed the other back.

[Language unknown: Peiech derrednde enc ughcomstr ento Ureencson Aneiosndmo Unatngwh. Stth aderte.]

Then she and Comrade Karl left the room without shutting the door and rapped on another door two compartments down.

****
Olsen was soon back to sleep, the gentle rhythm of the train being hauled through East Germany barely noticeable to the experienced Schlafwagen user. His dream about the Customs Officer having green hair and working on a spaceship was interrupted by another knock on the door.

He found himself this time faced with the blue jacketed Mitropa sleeping car attendant.

[Language unknown: Thear altrmi. N ceere of ek evho dimo Dinarewil. Fider Pl kor pre p and t omeyinave?]
This message was last edited by the GM at 11:14, Thu 01 Nov 2018.

Sleepily pinching the sand from his eyes, Bjørn took a moment to register the question,

[Language unknown: P! Dimo, N korconore houch siive tho ul, roesof tewil. Ekurol, a ilouro. Poiv hares ev itol e teit il ma Sanvorear? I ngec waiere el our ol nentto inwemo unrice?]

The attendant looked confused slightly, then nodded.

[Language unknown: Os moetac? Whe fiol san mo ioureasheare sta venstamenpre ntth nd estandoul encanylarent. Osek be ev ng roch o me eenatihat Et pe rea atesantio]

He left the room and Olsen noticed out of the window that the train was starting to slow down.

A few minutes later, the attendant returned with a china mug branded with the Mitropa logo, an 'M' over a railway wheel. It contained a batch of very nice smelling coffee. He was also holding a copy of New Germany, the official newspaper of the Socialist Unity Party. The chances of the Dane getting hold of any Western press in the GDR was basically nil.

[Language unknown: Tioiveear on ie el oulhastio laacleur nt resstison. Fick uslentha fono safiut est asulon mondme plrom.]

He placed the paper on the bunk.

[Language unknown: Werwh ma. Of lat p tedthiame. P eeioic lleipa untin.]

The newspaper (Motto: "Proletariat of all nations, unite!") was indeed from the previous day, the 28th of May. The top story was about Walter Ulbricht, leader of the GDR, being formally nominated for the upcoming general election by some socialist collectives in Leipzig. The front page also continued details of the GDR's economic plan to 1970 and a report that the United Arab Republic i.e. Egypt had called for an urgent meeting of the UN Security Council to "discuss Israel's aggressive policies".

Other front page stories included:
[*] Bonn supplies tanks to the Athenian regime [the military dictatorship in Greece]
[*] 6th US fleet threatens Arabs [a report from Soviet newspaper Izvestia]
[*] Otto Winzer for talks with Brandt [Willy Brandt, the deputy Chancellor of West Germany]

He could read more of this if he so desired.

[Language unknown: Penawh plstr, yinbe wi u ll rean tiwhi.]

Bjørn sets the newspaper down as he takes his seat, then opens it to the Otto Winzer article, sipping the hot coffee as he reads.

The train continued to slow down, then stopped. Then someone tried to open the door. As it was bolted shut, there was a shout in the corridor.

[Language unknown: Thi, antithstiess! Ere a!]

At that point, a piece of paper was slipped under the door.