There were so many times in our life in Germany that occasioned opportunities to marvel, to imagine, to examine. Probably none so profound, ironically, as the trip we took to nearby Dachau, an infamous concentration camp of WW II, where countless victims of the Nazis suffered unbearable horrors and met unbelievable fates.
There are of course no words to convey the impact of the experience of visiting such a place. And if that is so, and it is, then how can there be words to express the experience of those who actually agonized here in the flesh? Still, it is important to come here, to acknowledge such a place. Such a damn reality. Come. Remember.
To walk in the misleading sunshine that day to the "showers" where women with babes in arms were gassed to death alongside old men and toddlers, then on to the remains of the ovens where many were reduced to ashes. To see the barracks where so many endured a living death until they gave out body and soul, or found it to be their turn to line up for the death march. To see the displays and pictures of these very lost ones in the museum and to read of their privations, tortures, and hopelessness. Somber? Despairing? Haunting? Heart wrenching? No, there are simply no words.
There were few people there that day, and one was free to simply wander around. It was a hushed atmosphere, dare I say a strange, but consecrated holiness in bizarre juxtaposition to the evil that had dwelt here? Usually when there are no words, from the depths of the heart spring sacred tears. But even they failed me. The impact of the abrupt sculpture depicting bodies being thrown helter skelter into a mass grave moved me as no other work of art ever has, ever will. Forever seared into my being. This picture we took of it does it no justice. How appropriate for the last place having nothing at all to do with justice.
I brought home a book from Dachau, They Killed 6 Million Jews, and learned a lot more about this nightmare. Can anyone ever really learn, really understand how the hell this hell happened?
2 comments:
thanks for the horrible memory!
Willow,
Sometimes it's important to acknowledge the horrible so we will move heaven and earth to never repeat it.
Last night watched a DVD. Into the Arms of Strangers, about German children who were sent by their parents to Great Britain, and thus survived the War. Their stories are not all fun and light, but they are real. And 10,000 Jewish and Christian children survived because of that.
The good old USA refused to accept any child refugees, Congress voting against, maintaining that "God would not want families to be separated." Eleanor Roosevelt stood up against the powers that be and saved a boatload of almost 1,000 during this time.
But 1,500,000 children died during the Holocaust. I'll be damnned if we put our heads in the sand and let that happen again on our watch. We HAVE to remember the horrible. So we will stand up to it.
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