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In 1978, I was already over thirty, and an international chess tournament lured me to Nikšić - a beautifully located town in Montenegro. I was especially looking forward to seeing old, illustrious chess colleagues again.
The arrival was well organized. At the airport in Tivat, a delegation was waiting for us, and we climbed into the cars, which were exclusive for socialist times. It was a long Mercedes convoy, which set off in the direction of Nikšić. Uhlmann and I were sitting alone in the back of the last car, with a Serbo-Croatian chauffeur at the wheel.
The road to our destination led us high up into a mountainous and winding landscape. It was still an adventure at that time, because the roads were neither developed nor secured.
Once unlucky — always unlucky? The convoy was already out of sight when a truck on the opposite side made a risky overtaking manoeuvre. Oh dear, oh dear, both Uhlmann and I trembled with fear in the back seats. Then everything happened in a matter of seconds. The chauffeur reacted courageously and, in order to escape the collision, tore the wheel around in a flash. But the road was too narrow, the precipice too close. We did some somersaults and landed deep down in the canyon — on the roof of the car.
Totally fogged I asked Wolfgang in Serbo-Croatian: “Kako si, Wolfgang?”
Obviously nothing had happened to me. All limbs were still in good condition after a short test. Next to me an all-clear response, because Wolfgang had understood what it was all about even without understanding the language. Finally, the chauffeur also gave me a sign of life: “We are lucky guys!” We all agreed that the fall could have easily ended differently. In silence, everyone sent their thanks to heaven or somewhere else. Now we only had to climb out of the car.
The chauffeurs of the last two cars probably noticed at some point that our car was missing. They turned around and welcomed us with a loud and happy hello at the top of the street. Afterwards, our Mercedes, which had survived the free fall just as unscathed as we had, with only a few small scratches, was pulled out of the canyon. What a wonder, it was even still roadworthy. So we drove to the next village, where our chess colleagues from the other cars were eagerly awaiting us in a small bistro. They were also very happy to see us alive again. Time to toast with coffee and slivovitz to the happily survived adventure. Afterwards we felt newborn.
Learning from the World Champions
With famous classical examples from the works of the giants, the author talks in detail about principles of chess and methods of play that we can use during every stage of the game.
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Was it a coincidence, providence or luck that Wolfgang and I almost ended up next to each other in the final standings table at this tournament with a strong international line-up? It was a hard-fought tournament, with players no mercy. I drew my game with Wolfgang — but what did it matter if we were still alive!
For many years Wolfgang and I could still laugh heartily about the free fall, in which Caissa, the chess goddess, protected us. But no protection lasts forever and the ravages of time gnaw at us all.
We had numerous shared experiences and a good time. Dear Wolfgang, I thank you for that!
[Photo: Dutch National Archive]
