We owned a green Renault in Butzbach. My father bought it from the ambulance driver on the night shift of the Medical Aid Station across the street from our apartment.
I have a pretty vivid memory of this car breaking down, running out of gas or something and we were walking away from the car. I associate the biggest feeling of loss with that memory, however my father assures me we did not abandon that vehicle.
I also remember slamming my father's finger in the door of this car. I'm happy as a clam, not watching, and sling the door with all of my might --turn around to my father shouting expletives and holding his hand, mad as could be. I was 8. Sorry, dad.
The Renault was traded in for our next car, the Opel.