"Du kannst mir mal en den Sac fassen!" says one of the German fellers.
"Huh?" says our right tackle, whose name is Mongo.
The German guy repeated hissef, an Mongo, who is about ten feet tall, just set there lookin puzzled. Finally, one of our guys who understood a little German says to Mongo, "Whatever it was, I don't think it was very nice."
Mongo stood up an face the German. "Whatever you want, pal, we ain't buyin it—so why don't you shove off."
German ain't buyin it neither. "Scheiss," he says.
"What's that?" ast Mongo.
"It is somethin to do with shit," our feller says.
Well, that was it. Mongo grapped up the German feller an thowed him through a winder. All the other Germans come racin over, an a big ole brawl commenced. People be pokin an gougin an bitin an shoutin. Waitress be screamin an chairs be flyin. It was just like the good ole times back at Wanda's strip joint in New Orleans.
A feller was about to crack me over the head with a beer bottle when I felt somebody grap my wrist an pull me back. It was one of the waitresses, done decided to hep me get out of there. She pulled me to a back doorway, an nex thing I knowed, we was outside. In the distance, I heard the sirens of a police car, an figgered that this time, at least, I am gonna get away from here so as not to wind up back in jail. The waitress is a nice-lookin German girl an she leads me down a side street, away from the commotion. Gretchen is her name.
Gretchen don't speak much English, but we kind of communicated by hand an arm signals, me smilin an sayin ja an her tryin to tell me somethin in German. Anyhow, we walked for a long time, right out of the village an up onto some pretty hills outside of town. Little yellow flowers be bloomin an they is snow-covered mountain peaks in the distance, an down below, the valley is all green an dotted with little houses. In the distance, I think I hear somebody yodelin. Gretchen pointed to me an ast my name, an I tell her.
"Ja," she says. "Forrest Gump is nice name."
After a while, we got up to a pretty meadow an set down, takin in the scenery. They is some sheep in the meadow an away across the valley the sun is beginnin to set in the Alps. You can look down an see a river from here that is shinin in the afternoon sun, an it is so peaceful an beautiful it makes you want to stay here forever.
Gretchen an me, we is findin it a little easier to communicate. She gets across that she is from East Germany, which has been captured by the Russians who have built a big ole wall to keep the people from leavin. But Gretchen somehow managed to escape an has been workin as a waitress for about five years, hopin that one day she can get her family out of East Germany an over here, where they do not put you inside a wall. I tried to tell Gretchen some of my story, but I am not sure it is gettin across. That don't matter, though, account of we seems to be gettin to be friends anyhow. At one point, she took hold of my hand again an give it a squeeze, an before it was over with, she done put her head on my shoulder while we just set there, watchin the end of the day.
Over the next few months we played a lot of football. We played some fellers from the navy an some from the air force an a lot more from the army. I used to get Gretchen to come to some of the games when we was playin close to home. She didn't seem to understand much about it, an mostly what she said was "ach!" but it didn't matter. It was just sort of nice to have her around. In a way, I guess it was a good thing we didn't speak the same language, account of she would of probly found out what a stupo I am, an gone her own way.
One day I gone into the village, an me an Gretchen is walkin down the street an I tole her I wanted to buy some kind of present for little Forrest. She is delighted an says she would like to help. We gone into a bunch of shops, an Gretchen is showin me a bunch of stuff like little tin soldiers an wooden toy tractors, but I had to tell her little Forrest was actually not all that little anymore. Finally, I seen what I thought he'd like.
It was a great big ole German ooompa horn, all shiny brass an everthin, just like the kind they played down to the beer hall on Saturday nights.
"But, Forrest," she says, "that's too expensive. You don't have that kind of money on a private's salary in your army. I know this."
"Well," I says, "I guess it don't matter. See, I don't get to spend much time with little Forrest, an the way I got it figgered, if I can give him some nice presents, he won't forget me."
"Ach, Forrest," Gretchen says, "this is not the way. I'll bet if you just wrote him nice long letters two or three times a week, he'd appreciate it more—more than a big old ooompapa horn, anyway."
"Maybe so," I answered. "But, see, letter writin ain't my specialty. I mean, I kinda know what I want to say, but I just can't seem to get it out on paper. I guess you could say I'm better 'in person,' you know what I mean?"
"Ja, Forrest, I think so, but ach this ooompapa horn is eight hundred of your dollars."
"It don't matter," I says. "I been savin up."
So I gone an bought the ooompa horn. In a way, I got a bargin with it, account of the shopkeeper din't charge me for the note I sent with it. Wadn't much of a note anyhow. Just about the same thing as before, cept I tole little Forrest I kinda missed him, an would be home soon. Turned out, that last was just more bullshit from me.
Anyhow, by the end of the season the Sour Krauts is 10 an 3, an we is up for the All Army Championships, down in Berlin. Sergeant Kranz is beside hissef, sayin that we is finally gonna get off the tank-cleanin detail if we can just win this one more game. Me, I am not too sure.
Finally, the big day come. Night before, I have got off for a while to go into the village an see Gretchen. She is waitin tables at the beer hall when I arrive, an after servin a big tray of beer, she takes a break an holds my hand.
"I am so glad you came tonight," she says. "I have been missing you, Forrest."
"Yeah, me, too," I says.
"I am thinking," she says, "that we might go on a picnic tomorrow. I have got the day off."
"Well, I'd like to, but I gotta play football."
"Ach!"
"But I was wonderin, could you come to the game? It is in Berlin."
"Berlin? But it is a long way."
"I know," I says, "but they got a bus, you know, to carry down some of the wives an stuff. I think I can get you on it."
"Ach!" Gretchen says. "This American football, I do not understand. But if you want me to go, Forrest, then I will go."
An so that's what we did.
It was in a big ole field next to the Berlin Wall where we played the All Army Championship game. Our opponents was the Wiesbaden Wizards from the intelligence section of the Third Armored Division, an let me tell you, they was smart.
We was bigger an faster, but them intelligence fellers was craftier. First, they unloaded a Statue of Liberty play on us. Ain't nobody on our side ever seen a Statue of Liberty play, an they scored a touchdown.
Next, they roll out a Tackle Eligible play, an pretty soon the score is fourteen to zip, their way. Everbody, includin Sergeant Kranz, is lookin glum.
In the second half, the Wiesbaden Wizards done thowed a combination stunt-blitz on defense an get us backed up to our own two yard line on fourth down. What is worse, our punter got his knee wrenched, an so is out of the game. In the huddle, somebody say, "Who is gonna kick the ball?"