I worked at the 'Berg 80-82 and was struck, last time I was in Berlin a couple of years ago, at how it still dominated the skyline. I shall raise a glass to its passing when they finally knock it down.
Unsuprisingly, the phallic bit was American and the British piece was a couple of anonymous cubes on the side of the complex, plus the giant R&S tower.
I have vivid memories of breakfast in the Combined Dining Facility at 0300 on mid shifts and some of the amazing filth the US Army and Air Force were prepared to put in their bodies. Good stories, though, they'd only got rid of the draft a few years before and most of the NCOs were Vietnam vets, while drug and race problems were still, allegedly, rife in their barracks.
Of course, the social side of Berlin.... oh boy.
If anyone remembers Pancho V, now apillar of respectability in his late fifties, once, immortally, drinking standing up at the bar of a Russian restaurant on the Kantstrasse, he carefully put down his drink and weaved off, covering pretty much every square metre of the restaurant and arrived back at the bar. He obviously was judging his progress by dead reckoning and clearly was now satisfied that he had reached his target, the gents, so produced Percy and peed all over the bar. Ignoring his incredulous audience, he grunted, farted, adjusted his dress and weaved off, retracing his steps until he returned to the bar and took up his pint again.
"It was at this point, Sir, that the fight broke out".