My German friends took me to this village called Roden,
close to the city of Saarlouis .
We would often go to a guesthouse named after the owner, Agnes. At first
appearance it looked like any other guesthouse that we were used to visiting,
except the young women waiting the tables were in their late twenties and early
thirties. They were older than the other young women that worked in
other guesthouses.
Normally, guesthouse seating had tables with four chairs and
nothing else. Agnes’s guesthouse also had that type of seating in the daytime.
The place was rearranged differently at night and especially on weekends. Two
sliding walls were opened up to reveal what looked like living rooms. They had
nice, soft couches and chairs with low tables in front. Candlelit lamps sat on
end tables, and beautiful maroon drapes hung in front of the windows.
We went to Agnes’s place during the day most of the time,
when beer cost less. At night the beer and other drinks would double in price.
Agnes, the owner, looked to be in her middle fifties, was
about five feet six inches tall with dark, short hair, and was a little on the
heavy side but not fat. When she spoke with you, her voice sounded confident
and clear; even though she displayed a motherly type personality toward
everyone, you knew that she was the boss.
Her husband Nickolaus was a small man about the same height
as Agnes, and his hair was beginning to turn a little gray on the sides, which
made him look older than his wife.
Their daughter, young Agnes, was five feet
seven inches tall and in her late twenties. Her skin looked as if it was
naturally tan all the time. She had a beautiful face with shoulder-length black
hair, which complemented her slender figure. You would never guess that she had
two children. Her husband Josef was a handsome man who looked about thirty. He
was six feet tall with brown hair and a muscular build. He was very friendly
and very jealous. When we went to Agnes’s guesthouse, I would speak German
with her, and she would help me by correcting my German. Everyone working in
the guesthouse helped me. They treated me like a family member.
Their home was in the same building as the
guesthouse, with a kitchen on the first floor and their bedrooms on the second
floor. I was invited to their home one Sunday morning to have breakfast with
the whole family. I noticed that the young women who were waitresses also lived
with Agnes. They joined us for breakfast. As we sat and had breakfast, Agnes
asked me if I could bring them some liquor from the base. Nickolaus said that
they would pay me ten times more than it cost me to purchase on base. I happily
agreed to their terms.
I
brought them liquor every time we visited their guesthouse. Liquor was rationed
to servicemen monthly. My allocation was four bottles per month. This turned
out to be quite a little profit-making enterprise for me.
On Friday nights, Saturday nights, and Sunday
afternoons, the guesthouse was always packed. The living room sections would be
opened up to provide additional space for the mostly male customers. The
waitresses would remain in the living room with their customers. The men bought
expensive bottles of champagne, wine, and shots of liquor for the tables in the
rooms. About every hour a male customer would leave the living room with his
waitress and go upstairs. She would give him a tour of the bedrooms, and she ’wasn’t even a real-estate agent.
Agnes and family were the owners of a
guesthouse that turned into a brothel at night and on weekends. At the same
time, the young women waitresses would turn into prostitutes. You could make
arrangements to have sex with them for a price. Prostitution was a legal
business activity in Germany .
On
Saturday and Sunday, it was very difficult to find a parking spot close to
Agnes. Their backyard was used for VIP parking. The yard would be filled with
expensive German vehicles. Several waitresses would be sitting in the living
rooms next to their customers. Young Agnes would also be sitting with the
executives. Her section was filled with the wealthiest executives; they bought
the most expensive drinks.
On Sundays when we visited the guesthouse,
young Agnes would ask me to take Josef (her husband) away for a while to
Luxemburg because he was extremely jealous. He could not watch his wife sitting
on the coach drinking with other men without saying something to the men. So
Agnes paid me in US dollars many times to take him anyplace for several hours.
I almost
never had to buy drinks in Agnes’s place, because usually the young waitresses
and the owners would just bring drinks and leave them on my table. Drinks that
had been purchased by the customer seated in their section
About every six months a new group of young
women would come from other parts of Europe to
work at Agnes’s place. Each one of them had a unique appearance or distinctive
personality. While in Germany ,
I never though very much about Agnes’s guesthouse being a brothel. Now when
I reflect back on the situation, it was an incredible experience I had as a nineteen year old, selling liquor
to the owners of a whorehouse.
Are you wondering if I was ever paid in trade?
I will never tell.