The first time I went overseas was when my dad was stationed in Germany for the last time. It was not a very memorable trip, as I was six months old when we crossed the pond. Dad worked at Nelson Kaserne in Neu-Ulm, and we lived in Ulm.
Things I remember about Ulm:
About a year later, we moved to Bimbach in Hesse (sort of the middle of Germany) for 1 1/2-ish years. Dad worked in Fulda.
Things I remember about Bimbach:
Our top-floor appartment with slanting ceilings. The balcony overlooking a field. The field becoming a construction site (it was very exciting to watch). The park down the street with a slide that (at the time) seemed very tall and scary. Looking at the chickens in a backyard bordering the park. The time we went camping in Holland (We listened to Psalty tapes on the way there. Sleeping in a tent was thrilling at the time. Oh, and there are lots and lots and lots of flowers in the Netherlands.) Probably other things, but those stand out.
I sort of remember the flight back to the States. I was three by then and excited about moving to this new and exotic place called North Carolina.