Remembering together: The Canadian Way Barracks at Hohbergsee

After the occupation of the Rhineland in 1936, parts of the Machine Gun Battalion 5 (MG 5) were initially provisionally housed in Lahr. On the initiative of Lord Mayor Karl Winter, the construction of a barracks in the "Elend" area began in 1937 and was completed in 1938. The 11th MG battalion, which was set up specifically for the site, used the facility until 1940. After the battalion left for the eastern front, the barracks were used by the artillery replacement army. On February 19, 1945, a US air raid completely destroyed the barracks, killing 27 people.

After the capture of Lahr by French troops in 1945, the military administration requisitioned the site; the original plan was to completely demolish it. In 1951, however, it was decided to rebuild the site, which was completed in 1953. The new Caserne Commandant Ménard served as staff quarters and accommodation for the 1er Commandement Aérien Tactique (CATAC), which also commanded the French troops at the Lahr airfield. After 1954, the command was integrated into NATO air defense.

After France's withdrawal from the NATO military structures in 1966, the Royal Canadian Air Force moved its headquarters from Metz to Lahr. On September 7, 1967, the Canadians took over the barracks, which was renamed Caserne Lahr on February 1, 1968 and became part of the Canadian Forces Base (CFB) Lahr. The site also included the military airfield to the west of the town.
Between 1967 and 1970, the barracks was the headquarters of 1 Air Division. With the reorganization in 1970, this became 1 Air Group; at the same time, the Lahr barracks became the headquarters of the 4 Canadian Mechanized Brigade Group. Lahr thus developed into the most important location of the Canadian land forces in Europe.
The establishment of the Canadian Forces Europe Headquarters was particularly significant. All Canadian troops in Europe were led from here - regardless of whether they were deployed within the NATO framework, as in Lahr, or on behalf of the UN, for example in Cyprus.
In February 1992, Ottawa decided to largely withdraw from Europe. The decision was an expression of austerity policy and the changed security policy framework after the Cold War. The barracks were vacated in 1993 and officially closed on December 31.

There was no subsequent use by the Bundeswehr. As the owner, the federal government rented out buildings to schools and branch offices of the Ortenau district, among others. An application by Lahr to host the State Garden Show on the former barracks site failed in 1999. As the purchase price was too high for the town, the federal government sold the site to private investors in 2009. Today, the former barracks site serves as a modern residential complex.

You could experience history in Lahr - even directly from the barracks. I worked near the main gate. From there, it's a short walk uphill - maybe fifteen minutes, two kilometers - and you reach a double-ringed, pre-Roman rampart. Many people in Lahr have spent their whole lives there without knowing it existed. I often climbed up there during my lunch breaks, simply to get some exercise.
And on the other side of the river, seen from the same main gate, are even larger Roman walls surrounding massive fortresses south of the major cities between Colmar and Strasbourg.
Looking on from there, you soon reach the site of the great battle of Alesia, where the Celts fought. A little further on is the birthplace of Joan of Arc - and of course Orléans, where her famous battles took place in the 15th century.
Towards Strasbourg, there are countless historical sites: the Rhine, where Emperor Barbarossa drowned during the Second Crusade; the route along which Napoleon passed with his troops; and just near Lahr, the airfield where two Canadians are buried - I believe they were killed in 1917 in a biplane attack on German airships.
To the right are Hohengeroldseck and Lützelhardt, and all the smaller castles from the 12th century. I walked and climbed them all because I wanted to stand where history actually took place.
One day I explained to my commanding officer that I was passionate about history and really wanted to see the Berlin Wall - something I had never been able to do as a boy. He said, "Before I extend your security clearance, I'll send you there for a few days." So I went. I walked until I couldn't walk anymore, slept until I was awake again, ate something - and kept on walking. For three days, along the Berlin Wall.
The extraordinary thing was that I was transferred to Germany again in 1989. The Wall was still standing, East Germany was still on the other side - and suddenly it came down. Many had said: "That will never happen." But it happened!
It was incredible to be there, to see people crossing the border with ladders, to drive across the highway, which was suddenly full of traffic - and then, all of a sudden, the wall was gone.
The following Christmas vacation, I said, "I want to go to Berlin with my wife and family." We got into the car, and the moment we crossed the border, something strange happened. My whole body reacted: I remember it. We were driving over miles of cobblestones - just like I remembered from 1961, 62, 63, before the roads had been turned into a highway.
This drive to Berlin over the old cobblestones was like a journey back in time: a physical reminder of what it was like to drive through Germany with my parents in an old car back then.

I came to Lahr in July 1980. It was my second assignment in Germany, after stints in North Rhine-Westphalia and at the Canadian air force base in Baden-Söllingen. Nothing in my three years changed my positive impression of Lahr - and I found it difficult to leave again in 1983.
The years 1981/82 were very tense, but the situation eased towards the end of 1982. This had little effect on the everyday lives of citizens and soldiers, but at a higher level there was great concern about the threat of new Soviet medium-range missiles.
The peace and anti-nuclear movement in particular saw no benefit in the reciprocal deployment of such weapons. In Lahr itself, however, the peace movement hardly played a role. In view of larger problems such as left-wing terrorism and the debate about nuclear weapons, it was largely ignored by the authorities. Personally, I was friendly with their representatives - we had a beer together, everyone explained their position, but we didn't convince each other.

On March 8, 1981, we set up a small information table in the center of Lahr - that was the beginning. Shortly afterwards, we founded the Peace Working Group and organized peace festivals, vigils and marches. Many actions were deliberately creative, such as women's peace marches with cooking pots. We wanted to make it clear that there were also people in Lahr who rejected nuclear weapons. We deliberately sought contact with Canadian women: Some came to our meetings, some we invited, others sent greetings from Canada, for example to commemorate Hiroshima. Of course, we were small in number and it was often said that we didn't matter. But we were convinced that it was important to take a stand - even here in the shadow of the barracks. Even if we didn't change military policy, we created spaces for encounters and dialog. For me, that was just as important as the protest itself: to show that there were alternatives and that we as women felt responsible for the future of our children.

I was the child of a Canadian Air Force officer who worked in the barracks, and we lived off base in Area 13 (Gutleutstrasse). I remember an event - I think it was during carnival time - when the Canadian military decided to either join the parade or organize their own. Suddenly, Canadian soldiers were marching through the streets of Lahr. For the people of Lahr - and for Germans in general - this of course had a completely different meaning than for us. My brother, my mother and I went down to watch, and it was the first time I had ever seen a protest rally. I had seen many military parades before - always happy, positive events. But this time people were shouting. Some held up signs; I remember one man with a sign that said "Ban the Bomb!" ("Ban the Bomb!"). I didn't understand what that meant. I asked my mother: "What does that mean?" And she said, "Well, some people don't like bombs." That confused me - I knew what nuclear bombs were and I thought it was a horrible idea, but I couldn't understand the politics behind it. I was probably nine or ten years old at the time. People were shouting, people were pushing, and my mother started crying because she was scared. Everything changed for me after that. Later, when I met Ingrid and Claus Vollmer from the peace movement and told them about it, they looked at me like I was crazy - they had no idea that something like that had happened. Claus then told me about the protests they had been involved in. He also told me a story: he had come out of the house one day with a large peace flag in his hand, on his way to a demonstration. At the same time, a Canadian soldier stepped out of the building across the street - not mine, but another one in Area 13. The two looked at each other, waved briefly and then walked on. Later Claus said to me: "You have to understand - we weren't protesting against you or your father. We wanted to stop the arms race and make people think about the system they were living in."