e throw chocolates up to the putty-faced East German frontier troops, as they stand guard – against whom? defending what? – atop a Wall that since yesterday has become useless. They push the chocs away with their boots. One of the West Berliners standing next to me tries again: “Wouldn't you like a West-cigarette?” Sheepish refusal. Then I ask: “Why are you there?” This time, I get an answer: “Interview requests must be registered in advance, on this side as on yours.”
Lines scribbled in my notebook. Surreal moments from the greatest turning point of our time. In German, all nouns take an initial capital letter, so even a bungalow wall is a Mauer with a capital M. In English, there are many walls, but only one Wall. It's the one that “fell” on the night of Thursday 9 November 1989, giving us history's new rhyme: the fall of the Wall.
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