Twenty years ago to the hour I sat in an army bus of the (West) German Bundeswehr in the town of Dannenberg, stuck in a traffic jam caused by (East) German Trabis exploring their new-found freedom to travel. My unit was posted right on the border to the East, charged with listening in to radio communications of the East German and (more importantly) Soviet forces in the GDR, and we were on the way to our radio tower, but that morning we felt extremely redundant. Sitting in traffic that morning - a most unusual experience in sleepy Dannenberg -, stared at from below in our olive-green whale of a bus by the disbelieving eyes of our long-lost compatriots, remains my most vivid memory of the day after the Berlin Wall (and all of the walls separating the two German states) opened. Five years ago I published my memories of that time.