and Unity in Rural Germany
By JUSTIN T. CARREÑO
It was early March 2025, and a cool, crisp, clear, late winter evening in the rural hills
of southwest Germany. I was on a brick patio with a firepit ablaze, and the
smell of grilled meat and smoke filled the air. The setting, high on the ridge, was
a modern, stately home overlooking the nearby town of Landstuhl and, notably,
as well, the municipality's adjacent neighbor, the Goliath-like, U.S. installation,
Ramstein Air Base (RAB), whose presence breathed life into the small village.
(Landstuhl gained notoriety for its American military hospital where injured
troops were evacuated during the Iraq and Afghanistan wars.)
A friend, a military linguist, invited me to a barbecue with people from work. I asked
who was hosting, and she wasn’t sure – just a colleague of hers was going, and it was
an open invite to others they knew, and people connected to his office. I didn’t think
much of it – I’m always up for a get-together and meeting new people, so I agreed. I
took the train, about 10 minutes from Kaiserslautern to Landstuhl, and she picked
me up from the town bahnhof, and we drove about another 10 minutes to the event.
I knew something was different about this barbecue because as we approached the
home, it wasn’t a typical apartment or standard home of people she’d work with. It
was a large, impressive, modern, landscaped, home with an incredible panoramic
view spanning 180 degrees, looking out over the greater Landstuhl area, Ramstein,
and the Pfalzerwald.
We arrived a bit early, and as we approached the door, we were greeted by a friendly
American man in his late fifties, wearing an apron. With a big smile, he said, “Welcome,
come on in!” We introduced ourselves, and he introduced himself as Blue. We entered
the home, and I noticed it was well-built with ornate fixtures and decorated with fine
furnishings, all to match the grand exterior. It was luxury. Another person was there, a
man in his early sixties, who Blue introduced to us as Cage. I thought the names were
odd, but just smiled and nodded. Blue went back to manning his station at the grill and
preparing more food.
Cage guided us to a loggia with a portrait window spanning the length of the room with
that same stunning view, and in the room was a full spread of charcuterie, fruits, crudités,
and every type of drink – beer, wine, liquor, sodas, bottled water, and the German staple,
Sprudelwasser (sparkling water). He insisted we help ourselves and invited us to hang out
on the wrap-around balcony or the patio below. We went to the patio, where the firepit
burned, and where Blue was grilling.
We still didn’t know who these men were, and my friend’s co-workers weren’t there
yet. Neither Blue, nor Cage introduced who they were, which I understood as a signal
that we should know who they were. I didn’t ask any questions to avoid risking being rude.
Soon after, the other people showed up. They introduced themselves, and most had the
same odd, one-syllable names – Dutch, Breaker, Rico. They were all American military
men in their thirties, they were all fit. And they all knew the hosts. The only woman
there was my friend, the linguist.
At this point, both my friend and I felt out of place, but we were accepted and welcomed
by everyone. Despite the warm reception, I just felt like I was a fringe guest. There were
only nine people altogether at, what I thought was “just a barbecue,” eight of us, men.
No one explained anything and I didn’t want to be rude by asking, so I just accepted
this interesting get-together.
After a short time of hanging out on the patio, Blue said dinner was ready and directed
us to the dining room, where he had, buffet style, prime rib, bratkartoffeln
(roasted potatoes), and mixed vegetables, all served on fine china, silver, and crystal
carafes of wine, and sprudelwasser on the table.
At dinner, Blue had us all introduce ourselves, and our backgrounds. I was excited to
finally get some insight as to who these characters were. Blue was a two-star, active-duty
Air Force General, and Cage, his friend, retired in 2024 from Ramstein, as a one-star Air
Force Brigadier General. I sat across from Cage, who I got to know. He joined the Air
Force at 17 years old, with limited options after high school and not knowing what he
wanted to do with his life. He started as what the Air Force calls “Defenders,” which are
Security Forces (SF), which can be likened to police or law enforcement. He was proud
that he was the only person in history to have gone from Airman Basic (E1), the lowest
rank, to one of the highest ranks, Brigadier General (O7) in the Air Force.
Cage now lives in Louisiana, working as a defense contractor. His company sent him to
Ramstein to “build relationships.” I asked him what he thought was most important in
making that professional leap. He said anytime his team, especially leadership, signaled
there wasn’t a solution to something, that he would make his best effort to find that
solution, and when he did, it made an impact. He admitted there’s also a lot of politics
at play, and being well-liked can be just as important as doing a great job.
Everyone else at the table were military, some reservists, stationed at Ramstein. They
were in operations, mostly pilots, which explained the odd names, which were call
signs. A couple of the people were professional pilots in their “day job.” And there
was discussion of what airlines were best to work for, and which weren’t desirable.
One was working for FedEx, but was trying to get to Delta. Another hated his job at
American.
But Blue referred to this as a “roll-call.” This was not a traditional roll-call where
team members are accounted for, but an off-site, casual meeting, to understand the
team, discuss the mission, encourage the team, and, most importantly, build
community, camaraderie, and trust.
Blue talked about his harrowing stories from “down range” and leadership perspectives.
Blue then Facetimed his wife, who had to leave for the States the day before, and
she wanted us to all know that she baked the cookies that were for dessert, not Blue.
I was honored to be around such impressive and accomplished people. These were
good men. Although tough and trained warfighters, they were smart, open-minded,
adaptable, and humble. When it came my turn to talk, beyond giving my background,
I said, “I’m the only person at this table who hasn’t been in the military. I really
appreciate you accepting me into your circle.”
I wanted to add something referencing the challenges of today’s politics, but remaining
diplomatic and non-partisan, I added, “I can’t say I’ve been in your shoes, but I can
say I understand what you’re walking through, especially with the dynamic forces at
play today. So, thank you all for everything you are doing and giving to the United
States and our allies.”
Blue said I was always a welcome guest at his table, and the others said we were all
one team. And as I looked around that table, I couldn't help but feel a sense of
gratitude—knowing that, though our paths may have been different, we were all
united in our commitment to something greater than ourselves. And a lesson that
we might want to embrace, not only the journey, but the connections, no matter
how different, we make along the way.