In Szczecin, formerly the German city of Stettin, we were placed with rough-mannered but kindly Brichah guides aboard Russian trucks and driven to the border, which was nominally controlled by Polish guards. The cover story was that we passengers were a load of expelled Germans returning to the Fatherland. We were told to keep quiet in our covered truck bed but were not hidden under straw or anything like that.
The truck rumbled to a stop and we guessed we were at the frontier. The Brichah guides jumped out to transact business with the guards. Very likely money changed hands. A minute later we were through and on our way to the German capital.