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Ever since I was a little girl, I've been infected with the travel virus. Part of my desire to experience foreign lands was sparked by my dad' s stint in the merchant marine, shortly after World War II. He had visited postwar Germany and France, and told me many stories about his experiences.

On May 7, 1976, my husband and I landed at Rhein-Main Airport, in Frankfurt, Germany. It was my first time ever in a foreign country, and I was so excited!

My parents and my in-laws, on the other hand, were not enthusiastic about the idea of our moving to Germany because they were concerned for our safety, and we would not return for several years. My husband, Ed, was in the Air Force, in the Security field, and should a conflict had arisen, there was the possibility of him being deployed into combat. All that, for us, was overridden by the prospect of living in Europe, experiencing a new culture, and the opportunity to travel.

The overnight flight from JFK airport in New York was exhausting, but we were thrilled about the prospect of living in a foreign country. Would Germany be what we expected? Would we have difficulty making friends and learning the language? Yes, we felt uncertainty, and a little fear, but that was eclipsed by our sense of adventure.

As we prepared for landing, the view from the window was magnificent. The verdant springtime landscape, the cities of Frankfurt, Wiesbaden, and Mainz, as well as the Rhine River, were clearly visible. It didn't seem real especially after 24 plus sleepless hours, but more like a dream. I was afraid I'd wake up and find myself back home, like Dorothy in the "Wizard of Oz."

Everything was a blur once we landed in Frankfurt. After picking up our luggage (we would be living out of suitcases for a month or so until our furniture arrived), we looked for our sponsor, Mike, who was supposed to meet us at the airport and drive us to Hahn Air Base. We waited at the designated meeting place about a half hour, but he never showed up. We had never felt so frustrated, scared and alone. Fortunately, Ed, resourceful despite his fatigue, found the G.I. welcome center, and spoke to the officer at the desk, who said there was a bus for Hahn that was scheduled to depart at 1300. He then called the base for instructions on what we were to do once we arrived.

The bus ride to Hahn was an experience in itself. The driver played lively German folk songs on his tape player, and as we left the urban bustle of Frankfurt behind, the combination

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