I have had a beautiful beer stein since World War II. My brother, Rodney, sent it back from Germany. He was part of a Navy goodwill tour that started at England then went on to Germany. He sent back two beer steins and a Black Forest coo coo clock from there.

When he returned home, Rod took back the coo coo clock and one beer stein. That left me with one beer stein. I have placed that beautiful beer stein in a prominent place in my home as I moved around the country. It is time to give it a permanent home while I am still here to do so.

But first, let me tell you my memories of Rod's experiences in Europe. I don't know anything of his time in England except he visited a number of pubs and the girls were friendly. All I know of his German experiences is wrapped up in the beer steins and the coo coo clock. I am not sure if he went to Holland before or after his time in Germany. Whatever, there is an interesting story about one of his encounters there. He was in Holland for more than a weekend. He made the acquaintance of a Dutch girl who foresaw more to the relationship than Rod had intended. She was persistent, to say the least.

Rod left Holland. I am not sure of his itinerary after that, but when his ship pulled into the Naples, Italy, harbor, Rod was in for a big surprise. Who did he see standing on the dock waving at him, welcoming his ship to Italy? None other than the Dutch girl. As he looked down at the crowded wharf, Rod heard a familiar voice.

“Himer! Himer!” she yelled. She couldn't pronounce Stimer. Himer was as close as she could come to it. No matter. Rod got the message. She had made the overland trip to Italy. He never did say how he discouraged her. How many women can one man put up with? He had another girl friend in Newport News, Virginia, waiting for him to come home. Rod wasn't ready for a commitment but they didn't know that. He would sail on to Greece and Lebanon before docking in Cuba at Guantanamo Bay. His tour of duty was almost over.

It was while Rodney was in Cuba that our father died suddenly. I had no idea how to get the news to him. The funeral director told me to contact the Red Cross. They could send the message to my brother. I did that. They sent a telegram to Cuba. A response was asked for, but none came. I waited several days. We couldn't schedule the funeral until we knew whether or not Rod could come home. I asked the Red Cross to send another telegram, but they refused. One was all they would do, they curtly told me.

In desperation, I visited the local Navy recruiter and told him of my problem. He called the Red Cross. They promptly sent another telegram. That was what Rod's commanding officer was waiting for. The first telegram had made no sense. It had been garbled with a message for another sailor. It had said his only living relative was a married sister residing in Greenland. Rod was flown home. The funeral was performed the following Sunday. Rod's enlistment was up shortly after that and he came home to stay. I should add without the girl from Holland or the one from Newport News.

I am giving the beer stein to my grandson, Larry, Anne's son. The story will live on as he displays it for his friends to see and tells the story.