The Mother Tounge
Published Jan 01, 1900
A few years ago I went to visit my brother who was stationed in Germany. I assumed that enough Germans would speak English so that I could at least get around. But I found that many people spoke only their native tongue - including the ticket inspector on the train. He punched my ticket, then chatted cordially for a bit, making gestures like a windmill. I just nodded from time to time to show him that I was interested. When he had gone, an American woman soldier in the compartment leaned forward and asked if I spoke German. "No," I confessed. "Then that explains," she said, "why you didn't bat an eyelid when he told you that you were on the wrong train."
Originally published November 14, 2002.
