The Wall Crossers

April 1971 - Anja and Olivia Meet

Olivia's perspective

It is April when I meet Anja, both of us working in the former Air Ministry building, now HQ of the Berlin Brigade.

On the day we meet, she wears a green turtleneck under a beige shift, her feet clad in low-cut, light green go go boots. I'm in my Army khaki uniform, of course. She stands just outside the snack bar on the first floor of our building, tears painting lines down her cheeks. I walk over to her.

Anja's hair is a cascade of auburn, like rich dark ginger, flowing gracefully over her shoulders. Her captivating green eyes hold depths richer and deeper than anyone can fathom, adorned by thick, luscious lashes that accentuate their allure. A delicate nose and a perfectly contoured mouth contribute to her captivating features, complemented by the subtle presence of small dimples that emerge when she smiles.

Her lips, plush and inviting, bear a softness that begs for attention, subtly enhanced by a touch of gloss, maybe cinnamon?... a secret she later shares—this gives them a hint of added plumpness. The tip of her top lip upturns naturally just a tiny bit—so kissable! Adorning her cute ears are tiny coral studs, adding a touch of subtle elegance to her overall charm.

Standing at about five feet eight inches, her body is so attractive—likely a size six in dresses—a combination of strength and grace evident in her lithe form. As I spend more time with her, I begin to notice the underlying strength that defines her, hidden beneath that poised exterior. She is curvy but restrained in showing it.

As I draw near to her, become enveloped by her, I catch her intimate scent—a mingling of body warmth, an estrogen-infused sweetness, and the subtle essence of an office girl's delicate hint of sweat. There's also a metallic trace like maybe iron... from blood?... then too, the tears?... but all interwoven with a subtle fragrance of the cinnamon she probably lightly applies throughout the day, creating a uniquely cozy wonderful aroma that becomes part of her essence when we're close.

I step even closer to her and say, "Do not cry, and I will sing a lullaby."

"Abbey Road!", she exclaims, excitedly, tears drying fast. "I love that album!"

"Me too!"

"Oh! Darling," she says in a way that melts my heart.

"Yes darling?" I reply like I have known her all my life.

"Nein, das ist mein lieblingslied! My favorite song, silly American soldier boy."

"Well, you got the silly American soldier part right. I'm Olivia."

"I am Anja. Let's go have dinner and talk about Abbey Road, Livie!"

I look at her and know: I want to spend a lot of time with this vivacious girl!

Later that day

At seventeen hundred hours (5 o'clock) we meet at the snack bar, as arranged, still wearing our work clothes. Anja smiles at me, and I smile at her, and... there is something. I can already see there is something here that is more than casual!

We walk over to the Piper Club, just across the street. Since we are essentially still strangers, this is more appropriate, and it is close by.

Anja's perspective

The weather is so nice for the short walk over to the Piper. We are stealing glances at each other as we walk, and we start giggling each time! I do not know why we are both in such a giddy mood after just minutes together! But I feel a sense of... delightful purpose in this.

Inside the café, we are seated at one of the best tables, since we are so early—a window table so we can survey the sidewalk and street scene. I put my bag on the chair back, as Livie watches with one hand enclosing the other and both under her chin. She is still smiling warmly at me. This is so far out! I cannot explain it.