Remember the Dead; Warn the Living

22.6.13 A day of reflection

So, today was quite the adventure.  Anna and I had every intention of getting up early and heading to Dachau, but then the rain came.  After sleeping very little—our hostel is apparently next to a night club that opens only on Friday nights—we woke up and it was pouring.  Anna and I both were incredibly disgruntled from barely sleeping (München seems to shut down around 5:00am and then open again around 5:30am), and the rain did not help our moods.  Anna suggested we take the later tour time for Dachau, and I agreed.  She quickly fell back asleep and in bed, but could not sleep.

Finally I got up, showered, and went across the street to Starbucks. I had a wonderful conversation with the baristas about what to do in the rain in München—there apparently isn’t anything—and just about the general area.  They were very nice, or as nice as German customer service individuals can be. 

(Side note:  The Germans are not like the Americans.  They do not focus on customer service and are not “overly friendly” like most US waiters are told to be, etc.  It’s more about taking your time and if you want something, you flag them down. It’s interesting).

Anyhow, I went back to the hostel and Anna finally woke up.  We decided that rain or shine we were going to Dachau—and I was ever so grateful Anna was up for it!  A short train ride followed by a shorter bus ride and we were at the gates of the camp that was the model for all future Concentration camps in the German region.  Dachau was the camp where Hitler’s SS were trained and taught how to psychologically and physically torture camp prisoners.  It was the camp where the level-headed, persistent German soldiers were taught that Jews and other camp prisoners were not human, but sub-human and thus, worthy of the treatment they received.

Anna and I paid the 3 euros for a 2 ½ hour guided tour and it was incredible. Our tour guide, Keith (from Ireland), was incredibly knowledgeable and insightful.  Apart from one jab at the Tea Party being radical extremists as a comparison to Nazis, I really enjoyed him.

I have a deep appreciation of WWII and of Germany’s involvement as a whole. When I found out I was going to be able to study abroad this summer, I told Anna we had, simply had to go to a concentration camp.  I wanted to go to Auschwitz, but we were unable to travel to Poland, as we were limited on time.  Dachau was a wonderful 2^nd choice though.

Tangent’s aside, the tour was awe-inspiring.  We walked through the original gate house—with recreated door that never can be locked—and through the gate with the notorious slogan often associated with Auschwitz:  Arbeit Macht Frei (Work sets you free).  The Dachau Commandant had this placed over the camp entrance to mentally torture the prisoners.  It was later placed over the entrance of Auschwitz because the Commandant was trained at Dachau, as so many others were and wanted to use the same torture at other camps.

I cannot express to you the emotion and awe that flowed from Dachau.  (Side Note: Dachau and all other camp sites are memorial sites; the last concentration camp ceased to exist in May of 1945, upon liberation.) The tour was incredibly historical and informative.  Our tour guide did not try to make it dramatic or emotional, but kept it very historical and relevant. I consider myself well educated on WWII, and the events leading up the Holocaust, but I learned so much from our tour guide.  While Dachau was the training camp of the SS, the camp itself was originally for German political prisoners and was never an extermination camp.  Those that died at Dachau were killed by the guards or by illness, not by the gas chambers.  Oddly enough, Dachau’s gas chambers never went into operation. 

I could write a novella about my experience at Dachau, it truly was heartbreaking and amazing to be there.  The final thing we saw on the tour was a statue, made by a Jewish artist that survived the camp.  The inscription below the statue was a perfect summary of what happened during this horrific period: Remember the Dead; Warn the Living.  As the tour guide translated this, a chill ran through my body.  This memorial wasn’t just about all those that had died, it was about the future.  The Germans were never a terrible group of people simply waiting to act out evil deeds; and you never know when a fringe leader may rise again and begin doing something similar.

Dachau left me speechless and with a new understanding of this historic event that happened less than 100 years ago.  While their numbers are dwindling, there are still survivors of these camps.  There soldiers on both the Axis and Allied sides that controlled and liberated these camps and still remember those days.  This is not ancient history, but I think we often forget how recent this event was.   As I walked out of the gates of Dachau, with the latch that can never be locked, symbolizing the true liberation of the people that were once held there, I couldn’t help but be in awe of everything I just experienced.

Dachau is more than a memorial site.  It is history; it is a living story and has become a sign of perseverance for all those who made it out alive, a place of mourning to the families’ who lost loved ones, and a lesson for all of us to learn from.  As the memorial statue reminds us: Remember the Dead; Warn the Living.