John Ellis: Politically Incorrect, but Authentic
When the former G.I.s reconvened at McDonald’s after laying wreaths on the graves of their fallen comrades Memorial Day weekend, they seated themselves at outside tables on that sunny morning. Typical patterns had developed since the group had formed in 1993: close friends tended to sit together; some of the guys were laid-back, while others were more vociferous. Certain gentlemen seemed to attract attention from those around them, almost magnetically. It was the force of their personalities and firm convictions. One such gentleman was Tyrone Wylie, whom we shall meet presently. Another was John Ellis, the subject of this interview.
Two days later, I set off for John’s place. I rang John’s doorbell at 11:00 a.m., and we settled on his balcony, the fragrance of potted flowers blending with the aroma of fresh coffee. Our three-hour conversation was free flowing; giving full rein to John’s powerful intellect, strong opinions, and far-ranging experience.
A Jewish Family’s Connection to SS
John served in the aviation section of the 2nd Armored Cavalry in the 1970s. Although he had been at the at the Feucht Army airfield, I asked him what he knew about the 2nd Armored Cavalry airstrip, formerly the Grosse Straße (Great Street) parade route on the Nazi rally grounds. He told a story about his grandfather, Amius Eigenkranz.
Amius Eigenkranz was driver to SS Colonel Reinwald. The two had been friends since childhood, despite the fact that Eigenkranz was Jewish. Colonel Reinwald told his friend Amius not to say anything about being Jewish. “These are difficult times, and you've got to forget about that shit for a while. Remember where you came from, talk about it, but only at home. Maybe one of these days, he said, all this shit will go away, it will be like a bad dream, and we'll wake up.”
Years later, when John Ellis arrived in Germany as a G.I., the former Waffen SS colonel told him about concentration camps in the Nürnberg area, including one in Hersbruck, where 28,000 people died, … He pointed out one in the Langwasser section of Nürnberg, now used by the city waterworks, that has a watchtower and three-meter fence with inward-facing barbed wire.
The Road from Texas to Nürnberg
John grew up on a Texas ranch, son of an Army colonel. He joined the Army in 1971. The 2nd Armored Cavalry in Germany was the end of a circuitous journey for John. He received medical training at Ft. Sam Houston, Texas, where he qualified as a registered nurse in oxygen therapy. Because he was certified in respiratory care by a well-respected American company, he was sent to Vietnam to treat troops returning from the field with respiratory problems. John’s abrasive personality did not mix well with the military mindset of his superiors at the hospital, however, so he was reassigned to Hawaii after only five days. Three days after landing in Hawaii, he received orders for Germany. He arrived in Germany in December—a chilly contrast to the beaches of Oahu.
Fräuleins and Ensuing Complications
Like the other former G.I.s I met, John developed relationships with German women. One day he was invited, because of his relative faculty with the German language, to accompany a group from his Medivac to a local orphanage. They would take the kids bowling.
“One of the girls taking care of the kids there was Evilina, ‘Evi,’” John said, “She struck my fancy right away, because she had long black hair down to her ass—ooh yeah, I loved that. I was playing with the kids, and she said, ‘You're pretty good with kids.’ I asked her out…
“Evi was a good Catholic girl and did not believe in birth control. She asked me, ‘Hast du ein gummi’ (a rubber)? I said, ‘Of course.’ (I had never used one in my life.) Sure as shit, she was later pregnant. She wasn't really disappointed about that, but she said, ‘I want you, before this goes any further, to meet my brother Dieter.’ ‘Why?’ I asked. She said, ’In case you hurt me.’”
Dieter did a lot of weight lifting and works as a Dachdecher (roofer). John asked Dieter about his many tattoos. “That's what you get when you're in jail,” Dieter replied. John asked Dieter why he had been in jail. It turns out that someone had “screwed around” with another of Dieter’s sisters, and Dieter had beaten the man to death. John explained to me that Dieter had served only ten months in jail because he claimed in court that the victim had “slipped and hit his head on the curb.” It was deemed an accidental death.
“The thing you gotta remember in Germany,” John told me, “Germany is a little like medieval times; a human life has very little value in Germany. But possessions, you know; let's say you have a lot of real silver; if you were to break into my place and steal my silver, you're going to get at least two to three years just for taking my silverware.”
So Evi had John’s son, Stephan, but not Stephan Ellis. Evi refused John’s offer of marriage. She did not even go to court for child support. Instead, she took a “one-time payment,” as John described to me.
Evi had moved into John’s apartment in the city, beautifully furnished throughout, including a teak wall unit, leather sofa, and dining room set. He also had a $15,000 music system and a Nikon camera with a complete set of lenses and all the accessories. John returned from field maneuvers on the border one winter day and found Evi gone, along with all of John’s belongings. “No one answered the doorbell, and my key did not work in the lock, so I broke down the door,” John said, “and my greeting to Evi echoed off the walls of the empty apartment.” In place of his furniture, John found a few orange crates and some sheets and a pillow in place of his bedroom set.
He changed from his fatigues to civilian clothes and drove to Dieter’s house in his jacked-up Opal Record, glasspack muffler announcing his approach. He had a big knife in his pocket. Dieter seemed surprised to see John. They went to John’s apartment, so Dieter could see for himself how Evi had cleaned him out. Dieter told John that Evi had moved in with a friend from school.
John and Dieter went to Evi’s new residence, where John confronted her. She said, “John, it was nice living with you; you’re a good guy and everything, but that's the way it is. I don't want your money. I wasn't going to marry you, and I don't want any payments from you. With everything I took from your apartment, we're even now.”
Dieter whispered in John’s ear, “You got a good deal. You don't have to pay. In Germany you'd have to pay her 500-600 Euros a month until he’s 18 or longer.”
As the father of record on his birth certificate, John has maintained a relationship with Stephan over the 34 years since his birth. He had visiting rights whenever he wanted, and the two remained friends as adults until Stephan “switched to the other side of the riverbank,” as John put it. He disowned his gay son.
Evi, meanwhile, had a total of four kids from four different guys. She married number five, but he turned out to be sterile.
Angela, John’s wife of 34 years, Angela, appeared on the sidewalk below the patio where John and I were sitting and called, “Have a nice day!”
I asked her if I could take her picture out on the patio, with all the beautiful flowers. She agreed but left without posing on the patio. John explained that his relationship with Angela was strained.
“My work room has a sofa in there,” said John, “and that's where I sleep. She has the bedroom. The only one who sleeps in her bed is our grandson, Joshi, when he comes to visit. He said it's good that I sleep in my own room because I snore, and it sounds like an earthquake. Ha ha ha. I love the little guy. I could never be mad.
“He knows that I have some health issues. He always looks in at me when he gets up in the morning, but he will not wake me up. Sometimes, I'll wake ups and he says, ‘Oh, you're awake! Are you okay?’ He once stuck his finger in my nose, ‘just to see if you're alive.’”
Joshi’s father is John and Angela’s son, Christopher, 34.
Crime and Law Enforcement
“My grandson,” said John, “I love the little guy. I will do anything for him.” John related an incident in which he took his grandson to the airport, where Joshi loved to watch the airplanes take off and land. Outside the rest room, three ‘refugees,’ armed with with a knife, attempted to rob them and an older German gentleman. “Maybe I'll take the little bastard too,” said the one with the knife. When the would-be robber made a move toward Joshi, John brandished his own knife, a much larger weapon than the one held by his attacker, and escorted the elderly German, along with his own grandson, up the stairs. Outside, they reported the incident to a police officer, omitting the fact of John’s illegal knife. The German verified John’s report. The police officer called for back-up before confronting the criminals.
John expressed strong opinions about the German Polizei. He dismissed the ordinary police as “pussies,” describing an infamous robbery in Dortmund, in which a Russian gang opened fire on police who responded to the scene. The police failed to return fire, took cover behind huge flower planters, and then surrendered, pleading, “Don’t shoot!”
The Sondereinsatzkommando, (SEK), a sort of SWAT team, on the other hand, are much tougher, according to John. “They’d rather punch first and ask questions later,” he said. “Most of the time, they wear black, one-piece coveralls, right? And on the front, it says Polizei in white letters, and on the back, it has SEK. And they usually travel in black BMW or black VW busses or black Mercedes busses with heavily tainted windows.” He told stories of one SEK officer, an acquaintance, who even carried his belligerent attitude into court. The officer’s comments to, and about, the judge, earned him a reprimand and 2,000 DM fine.
Other Americans developed relationships with SEK Polizei, based on a common code of contempt for political correctness. John told of one ex-G.I.s from Erlangen who was stopped by the police for doing a 100-kilometer-per-hour, three-block wheelie on his Gold Wing. He treated the officers with contempt, which would not normally be a good idea, but when he mentioned that he was friends with a certain high-ranking Nürnberg police official, they backed down.
John and his friend Paul used to ride motorcycles and go out drinking, but they did not mix the two. “We would crawl home from the bar on our hands and knees,” John said, “because we had left all our money at the bar.” He said that they when the weather was nice, they would sit on a bench outside the old city wall and ogle the girls. “You can whistle at them. I don't think that's allowed in the States,” he mused.
Professional Life
Following his discharge from the U.S. Army, John put his technical expertise to work on the German economy. During the years 1998-2001, he managed five stores for Louis Motorcycle Accessories. He traveled from Nürnberg to Ingolstadt, Augsburg, Munich, and Regensburg on his motorcycle.
He helped a friend, Horst, who has a motorcycle and scooter shop. Horst appreciated John’s talent with a wrench and worked around John’s medical issues.
John’s computer expertise was highly sought after. He designed custom systems for his customers and kept them running smoothly. Several of the former G.I.s I interviewed during my research testified to John’s knowledge and honest (if occasionally blunt) advice.
Politics
I asked John for his opinion on the current (2017) political scene and steeled myself for it. Suffice it to say that John disagreed with everyone else I had met in Germany regarding President Trump. “At least he's a real president, not like that piece of shit that used to be in.” John’s follow-up remarks regarding President Obama and his wife, Michelle, were, let us say, not fit for polite society. (The full transcript of our interview is in Patriotic Expats: Former G.I.s Discuss their Lives in Germany, available as an e-book on Amazon.)
An Intelligent, Compassionate Man
Despite John’s crude characterization of “liberal” politicians, German police officers, Muslims, etc., he revealed another side to his complex personality.
John is a bright guy. He skipped 7th grade and 9th grade and earned straight A’s “in everything that interested me.” His high school, Harrisburg Academy, was very selective and challenging. He did well in advanced courses such as trigonometry, calculus, biology, chemistry, and zoology, but his favorite courses were history and English. He even wrote books while he was in high school. He learned German by simply “picking it up,” as he did mechanics and computer science.
He visited a friend with terminal intestinal cancer. Aware that the gentleman loved Kentucky Fried Chicken but couldn’t swallow it, he took the KFC home and put it through a blender. His friend in the hospital could then taste it. That simple act of kindness belied the brusque persona John presented to the world.
Speaking of health…
John suffered from diabetes and had had a stroke on Easter Sunday of 2016-a year before our 2017 interview. He passed away June 21, 2017.
In May of 2018, I received the following letter from one of John’s good friends, referred to as “Captain Bob” in his own interview for this book. It captures the essence of John Ellis from a close friend’s perspective—far better than I could in a three-hour interview.
Hello,
Nice to hear you will be coming back to Germany again. Yes, we still meet at Mac’s every Sunday morning to solve the world’s problems. I really agree with whoever said that if the world had more front porches and rocking chairs, we’d have a lot less wars. We normally have about 10 to 20 people meeting there and the manager even has “RESERVE” signs for our tables he puts out every Sunday morning before we get there. We get alone really good with the manager.
I guess by now you have already heard the sad news about John Ellis. He died of a stroke about a year ago (21 June 2017 to be exact). While I would prefer to be left totally out of your book, I (and I think most of the others) would appreciate you remembering John in a good way. He was my best friend and there are some things I don’t know if you knew about him, but you should.
The old group meets every Sunday to talks and bullshits and John was almost always there and very opinionated. He was honest, open, and 100% NOT politically correct, to the point of sounding raciest or phobic, but actually it was just 100% pure honesty. He always said what was on his mind, regardless of who you were, king or pauper, but always he said it to your face and not behind your back. You would never hear someone have to say “Come on John, tell me what you really think” unless they were joking. But when you debated him, he could use very sound logic mixed with current world events to build an overwhelming case, like a lawyer. He was really very intelligent and clever, but he rarely let on, preferring to be seen as just a simple country boy from Texas.
But a truer, more helpful friend you will never find on the face of this earth. When people needed help, John was the first one there. When someone like Eddy Salter, Vern, Larry, Carl, Rudi, or I forgot the many other names, were in the hospital, only two people would be sure to visit, John and Herb. When I was in Klinikum Sud, John came over several times and even one time he snuck me out to go to Mac’s for the Sunday meeting and back to the hospital. I really needed it then because I was really feeling down. When Vern was dying with pancreatic cancer, John would sit and talk with him for hours. One-time Vern said, "I have to quit smoking" and John said why??? You have less than three months to live and if it gives you pleasure, why quit, and he smoked one with Vern. When Larry was in the hospital with a heart problem. John took a tablet computer and reformatted and loaded it with programs and internet access and gave it to him for free (even though John himself was having money troubles), so Larry could get his email while in the hospital. When I was on welfare during my divorce and had nothing, John gave me an old computer he refurbished, for free. No-one knows how many other people he helped out because he never said anything to anyone about what he did, except for when he needed some help with getting something ready for someone else. He was always silently helping others.
He was also at one time the Manager of a Luis motorcycle shop and making a good salary. He was a very smart business and good personnel manager and knew motorcycles. He then became the manager over more shops. Then he had some problems with higher management and had to "move on" (He called some owners out, to their face, for some unscrupulous actions, and also called them a bunch of queers and faggots because they were gay, I told you he was brutally honest).
He also knew the English language very well, and loved reading Shakespeare. If you really wanted to bug him, just say things like "I’m done.” He’d jump in and say “ you’re not done, a steak is done. You are finished. “ I would look at him and smile and say "OK I’M finished, can we go now or is there anything else you are not done with?" (I know, don’t use a preposition to end a sentence with).
He would the look at me and say “you Schmucko.” Most people also didn’t realize John was Jewish. He had a Bar Mitzvah and everything. But later he kept it quiet, only telling a few close people. Like most everything else he kept it hidden under a facade of being an old dumb country boy who didn’t know shit.
In the last couple of years John started having severe medical problems, and I do mean severe. But even with these problems that would stop most normal people, John kept visiting and helping other people. He even still took time to be with his grandson as much as possible. He took him to Mac’s and on walks and during the week every chance possible, even when he was not physically able. Joshi (5) would have to help John at times and would say Opi is just having another attack again, but John would say I’m fine and make a joke and find time for his grandson even though he was in pain or dizzy or feeling really sick. John, even sick, knew his priorities. John and I were also controls for each other. In talking, typing, or together we would notice when the other would start slurring, stuttering, repeating, or freezing and warn each other. We would watch each other controlling when the other is having problems and warn him not to drive or if severe, not to go out. People without his condition cannot understand what it is like and how painfully life destroying it is, but John never let on how bad it was but kept a positive attitude and kept on giving to others and sharing, never asking for help for himself.
John was trained as a Medic but spent his whole life saving and improving those lives around him, he also worked on motorcycles, computers, as a manager, was a loving father, a dedicated grandfather, good friend to a lot of people and was helping many in need but kept it secret and was a good example of what true honesty, dignity, charity, and family is all about. He was a great man and is truly missed by many. I guess that is what really counts in the end, how many lives you positively impact while you are here and how many people will really and truly will miss you when you are gone.
There is so much more to tell about him, but I’m sure you’ve already heard a lot from the others and hopefully from John himself. If I can be of any help to you in any way please don’t hesitate to contact me.
V.R.
