I was born in 1953. Ever since I was a kid I wanted to be a radio announcer. When I was in the Wehrmacht I applied to the radio station in Berlin. I always say “Wehrmacht.” Known at the time as the NPA: “National People's Army.” Of course, I first needed permission to travel to Berlin. If you were in the military, you couldn't just go to Berlin. Not allowed. We had to stay at our posts and do our duty.

The people at Radio Berlin wrote back that I should apply to the radio station in C. So that's what I did. Finally, I got a letter saying they would take me. I was invited to Berlin, congratulated, and sent to the studio in C. I wasn't exactly overjoyed, but I said to myself: “Just go, then you're in radio and you'll get to Berlin somehow.”

Actually, I didn't really understand the lay of the land yet. A studio like that was the end of the line. So I was forced to stay in this town.

Even back then I couldn't feel good about the work. We lied through our teeth. When there was a party conference, you always had to convince someone or other — a youth team, for example, who had competed for some honorary title — that they actually wanted it. They didn't want it, of course. At the usual preliminary meeting, people would speak quite freely. But in front of the microphone, they wouldn't say a thing. You practically had to stuff the words into their mouths: “The socialist state of workers and farmers is good, right?” etc. And somehow you'd put together your program. But there was almost always a party secretary there. Besides, the people had been “force-fed” beforehand so that they'd say what they were supposed to say. But if someone did ever express an honest opinion, it was certain to be cut out before the program aired.

I began drinking because it got to the point that I couldn't bear it any more.