by Jerry Porter

 

Back in 1962, I was stationed in Birkenfeld, Germany at the 2133 Communication Squadron while in the US Air Force. Like many other Young soldiers I was now on my own for the first time. Being over 21, I could enjoy the nightlife offered by the German people. It became a regular thing to go out after work each night and enjoy a few “nectar of the god’s.”

 

When I newly arrived at the station the Commander invited groups of us to his house and asked us different personal questions about where we were from and one question ask us about our faith. Nothing else was said about it. His name was Major Lewis J. Colburn, a benched B52 pilot.

 

After being there for a few months, our party nights got more frequent. Problems in our jobs began suffering. One day our Commander invited five of us back to his house for supper. He brought up our work and then talked to us about our responsibilities. He mentioned if we had forgotten about our church background and if we had ever gone to the base church services. Somehow the conversation got around to attending a service. He mentioned that perhaps we should try attending. He said he would go with us if we might be interested. We knew he was Jewish so we called his bluff. We met him that weekend, and he did show up. They offered some activities that we could attend. I chose to go and got back to going regularly. I still went out at nights but not as often. Problems at work cleared up and I began attending regularly.

 

I still think that this little intervention returned me to the Christian base my parents had instilled me.