Dieter Katz saw Eileen Fischer exiting the East Berlin guard shack and then walking down Friedrichstrasse. Minutes before, she had disembarked from the S-bahn in West Berlin, passed through Checkpoint Charlie, and crossed the border into East Berlin. She looked good, dressed in Western clothes, jeans and a top, a bit of make-up dressing a face that really didn’t need it, but not much – just some eye-shadow and lipstick. He hugged her.
Friedrichstrasse.“Oh Dieter, I’m so glad you’re all right,” she said, holding him tightly. “I’ve been so worried.”
“I’m fine,” he said. “It was horrible, very frightening, but I survived.”
“I’ve been frantic,” she said, kissing him.
He was about to reply when he saw a border guard approach, probably off duty. The man walked down the pavement like a handfu
