A little over 40 years ago an ex GI had a pizza place outside of main compound in Berlin. Served hot peppers on every pizza, period. One bite of pizza and you reached for the beer, (if you could call it that, high proof) called Butzov. This stuff climbed up the back of your head like a big black velvet cat, hooked its claws into your eyebrows and hauled your good sense right out of your head. Oh lordy, it was good. So good you reached for more pizza and then more beer. If you were a nasty drunk or wanted to fight, 4 to 6 Bruinhid waitresses (about 6'+, 160-200 lbs, and honest to gosh braided pig tales) would hit you all at once and throw your sorry self out through the door into the street. It never happened twice as they never let you back in. If you were just plastered but courteous the same girls walked you out to the nearest cop and told them where your barracks were. Cop called a cab for a free ride back to barracks and they had an understood deal with the Army. Get drunk, no problem, find a cop, no problem, cab home,no fare, no problem, report in smashed but sent by the cops, no charges,no problem, next days hangover, big problem.
BUTZOV best beer I ever had.
blindhari
3rd Bn, 6th Inf
Berlin Brigade