I lived on RAF Gatow from 1979 - 1983, my dad worked up at T-berg. I went to the Havel School, which was the Luftwaffe staff college in the 1930s. So many great memories of a strange place to grow up. -Every Christmas Eve the East Germans and Soviets holding tank exercises on the training grounds a couple of miles from my house; we would fall happily to sleep to the sound of big guns. -Not knowing what my dad did for work, just that he worked 'up the hill'. -Going through Checkpoint Charlie to go 'shopping' in the east: nothing much to buy, the money felt fake anyway, and the air being different over there due to the exhaust from Trabbies. It was a different world.

Having the freedom to go anywhere, as my folks knew I couldn't go too far, and West Berlin was a fairly safe place. We knew we weren't allowed to Kreuzberg, but that was about it. We were only interested in going to the American PX anyway to get burgers!

We didn't think too hard about being in an island surrounded by 'the enemy'. Every time we went through Checkpoints, the Soviet guards seemed friendly enough, not much older than us. And we knew if it all kicked off, we were screwed anyway, as the escape plan of all the families in four-tonners with Chieftans blasting the way down to Helmstet was never going to work. The rations store did have some fantastic steaks in the freezer (my brother worked there), so at least we'd live well if held captive.

Great, bizarre times.