Dachau concentration camp

Something that has always intrigued me about the Holocaust is that it really did not happen that long ago.

Within a lifetime from today, people were capable of such atrocities and others were tortured by those victimizers.

But, our tour guide pointed out that the Holocaust was not the worst genocide in history. And concentration camps exist in some form or another in most countries in the world. Guantanamo Bay is a form of a concentration camp.

Even so, visiting the Dachau Concentration Camp, which is about 20 minutes outside Munich, Germany, was a chilling experience.

Entrance to Dachau.

I've read so many books about the Holocaust, learned bits about it in so many classes and I have visited the Holocaust Memorial Museum in Washington, D.C. But seeing an actual camp in person is the best education there is.

As I'm writing this post, I'm having trouble finding adjectives that accurately and appropriately describe this experience. It wasn't a fun experience, it wasn't an amazing experience. All of the adjectives that I'm used to using to describe my travels don't suffice here. Probably the two most fitting words are "interesting" and "important."

Before we entered the camp, our guide gave us a brief history of the war and German history. What I find extremely interesting is that Germany is a young nation (formed in 1871) with a stained history. It has lost two world wars and carried out an atrocious genocide. For this reason, Germans do not fly German flags, unless it is the day of a German soccer game. German students are required to visit two concentration camps before they graduate from high school. Thus, Germans are very aware of their history. But this isn't to say they are ashamed to be German. They just have a different form of national pride — one that is focused on the future.

Dachau opened in 1933, and it was the first Nazi concentration camp in Germany. When we approached the gates to the camp, we immediately saw the phrase built into the gate: "Arbeit macht frei," or "Work makes you free." At the beginning of the concentration camps (which, by the way, existed years before WWII officially started), this phrase meant that by working, you could be set free. But as the war progressed, this phrase took on a more warped meaning: Work leads to death, and in death, there is freedom.

"Work makes you free."

Once inside, we toured the main quarters, where the offices and kitchens were, a building used for torture, the dormitories, and lastly, the crematorium and the gas chambers. In the building where prisoners were taken initially to exchange their civilian clothing for the white- and blue-striped uniforms, a phrase painted on the wall teased the prisoners: "Rauchen verboten," translating to "Smoking forbidden." But at this point, the prisoners had absolutely no belongings. Everything they cared for had been stripped from them, so there was no way to smoke even if they had wanted to. This same type of psychological torture was used in the dormitories, where each bed had a shelf. However, the prisoners didn't own anything that they could put on the shelf. It was a constant reminder that they had nothing.

"Smoking forbidden." A tease to the prisoners, who had no personal belongings.

Outside, we looked at two monuments. The first was a metal sculpture of bodies entangled in electric wire. This sounds like a morbid sculpture, and it is, but its meaning transcends basic levels of comprehension. When working in the concentration camps, prisoners knew they could die at any time. For example, prisoners were forbidden to step on the grass surrounding the outskirts of the camp, and officers liked to play a game of throwing the prisoners' caps onto the grass. If the prisoners went to get their caps, they were shot for stepping on the grass. If they ignored the orders from the officers to get their caps, they were shot for disobeying. This, along with countless other cruel tactics, put prisoners' lives in the hands of the officers. Thus, one way for the prisoners to make a decision of their own — to have some sort of humanity — was to decide when to die and to do it themselves. So, many threw themselves onto the electric wire. And with that, they felt they died with some slice of dignity and defiance.

A memorial ironically depicting some prisoners' displays of dignity.

The other memorial was considered controversial, and it was one that was designed by survivors. This memorial features a collage of colored triangles, which represented the triangles on prisoners' uniforms that signified what type of prisoner they were (political prisoner, Jew, gypsy, homosexual, criminal, et cetera). However, two colors are excluded from the monument: pink and green. Pink denotes homosexuals and green denotes criminals. After the war, homosexuals were still not accepted in society. And during the war, those criminals who were the most sadist were allowed to join the ranks of the officers so they could conjure up methods of torture.

A memorial created by surviving prisoners.

This was a very somber trip, but something that I think was very worthwhile. I am half-German and have always been curious about the history of my heritage. I am glad to have been able to witness first-hand this dark part of German history, but to also learn from our tour guide that this part of history is not brushed over in German history classes. If you find yourself in Germany or Poland, or any place where you can tour any form of a concentration camp, I suggest doing so. Seeing these pictures and learning about the camps from books is one thing, but being there and feeling so many emotions wash over you is another.

It is the best way for future generations to help ensure that no form of genocide should happen again.

Beds in the third phase of the war, when Dachau held the most prisoners.

All original dormitories were destroyed after the war, but two were rebuilt. These plots show where the others stood.

Inside the gas chamber.

Outside the gas chamber.