A Place in Time Not Forgotten

I stepped off the bus and instantly felt something was different. The atmosphere was too still, too quiet. It was a feeling I couldn't identify. Even though it wasn't a cold day I reach up and pulled my jacket closer around me. I headed down the sidewalk towards the black, iron gate. Roughly welded into the center of the gate were the words "Arbeit macht frei". "Work makes you free" is the basic translation. 

I step up to the gate and push it open. The iron feels strangely cold against my skin. I step inside and close the gate which clanks behind me. A sound which I would have expected to echo off the surrounding buildings but instead the sound just kind of drops off. 
I turn and face what is ahead of me. It was almost as if the color had been sucked out of this part of the world. The bared, buildings and padlocked watchtowers loom over a desolate emptiness of rock and concrete. Even though I can see several people around me, no one speaks. No cell phones ring. No birds are heard. No breeze is felt. No sunshine reaches this place.

Again I pull my jacket closer around me and start walking towards the nearest building. I pull open the surprisingly heavy, metal, door and enter. My boots echo off the cold, concrete floor as I scan the black and white pictures which hang suspended in the middle of the huge, empty space. It's not nausea I feel, more like the feeling of have a glob of tacky, super-glue rotting in my gut.

I slowly walk forward and stand in front of the first black and white photo and start to read.  

The Dachau Concentration Camp was the first camp opened in Germany for the purpose of holding political prisoners. It was opened in 1933 and eventually would imprison Jews, foreign national and political rebels. When the American troops arrived on April 26, 1945 to liberate the prisoners. There were 67,665 registered prisoners in Dachua and its sub-camps at that time. Dachau Concentration Camp was one of the few camps to be operational throughout the entire war. In the 12 years of operation the number of prisoners incarcerated there exceeds 188,000. Between 1940 and 1945 at least 28,000 prisoners died. This number does not include the number of prisoners who died between the years of 1933 to 1939. It is unlikely the exact number of victims who perished in Dachau will ever be known.

I spent the next two hours walking through what I believe one of the worst periods in our world's history. I read quotes, facts, dates and statistics. I studied the photos of the faces of the prisoners as I read their stories. I recognized the names of the Nazi and SS men who governed here. I learned about the medical experiments, the labor trades, the living conditions and the murder of thousands of people. I felt sick, angry, disgusted and sad as I made my way from one colorless room to the next. I observed the other people around me, crying and shaking their heads as they slowly made their way around the grounds. It was almost as if all of us didn't want to know the horror that had happened all those years ago but out of respect we had to continue.

I had made it through the main building and was now headed for the barracks. 

I stepped inside and the unwelcoming space where so many had lived was awful. I took a deep breath and slowly climbed inside one of the bunks and laid in one of the so called beds where so many had slept. It was small and cramped. It reminded me of a coffin. 

I got up and continued to where the bath was located. It was just an open room containing two rows of toilets. I tried to image the hundreds of people forced to live here against their will. The thought was disturbing.

I made my way down the stony path where the outlines of all the barracks had once stood and was surprised to find myself standing in front of what appeared to be a kind of Christian church. I realized there were several churches from many different religions on the grounds.

Part of creating the memorial of the Dachau Concentration Camp they had built churches in an attempt to create a kind of remembrance atmosphere for those wishing to visit the camp. Usually I find religion, church and God as a comfort but not in this place. The air, the buildings and even the ground where I stood were so saturated with the memory of blood, tears, death and agony, even religion couldn't replace the evil which lingered here. 

 I continued on and found, to my grateful relieve, a beautiful landscaped walkway of memorial sites. The statue of the unknown slave. 

The memorial where ashes were stored. 

The memorial of the pistol range. 

 The flowers and trees were welcoming but they only masked for a moment what I consider the most sicken part of the camp. The gas chambers and crematories.

I entered the doorways where so many had before me under far more extreme circumstances.

When I realized what I was about to enter I hesitated for a second before forcing myself to continue. 

This is the gas chamber. There were no lights in this room so they had to place a lamp in the corner for us visitors to be able to see.

I continued my journey and read this sign before entering the next room.

Then I arrived in the crematory room.

This sign was hanging in on the wall.

Then I found myself in the last room where I read this.

The smell that lingered in this room, again I did not recognized it. Throughout my years as a nurse I have been around a lot of death and dying. I had been in and out and several mortuaries and funeral homes. I knew the smell and feeling of death probably better than most but this was different. The smell I can't describe  and will never forget. It was distant yet hung thick in the air. It didn't smell bad but it was unpleasant and crude.

I made my way back towards the gate passing several people who walked in silence. I had learned about the horrible things which had occurred during WWII in school, college and personal research. No amount of learning or study could have solidified just how horrible this particular war was like visiting the Dachau Concentration Camp Memorial. I won't say I recommend it as a place to put on your bucket-list yet if you find yourself near the Munich, Germany take a few hours and visit this camp. It's a place in time we should never forget but hope to never experience again.