Little did I know: a visit to Auschwitz
When standing at the entrance of Birkenau and looking to the right, I could see no definite end. When looking to the left, I could see no definite end. When looking straight forward, again, I could see no definite end to the camp.
I first wrote this article following a visit, with the Holocaust Education Trust, to Auschwitz in 2016. The article was first published in a local newspaper, then again in Bournbrook’s sixth print issue. It is republished online today, for Holocaust Memorial Day.
I have always had a deep interest in history - particularly that of the Second World War, one of my grandfathers having served as a rear gunner in a Wellington Bomber. Because of this I felt privileged and excited when I was given the opportunity to go to Auschwitz Birkenau with the Holocaust Educational Trust.
Like most of us, I have a number of books relating to the history of the Holocaust as well as survivors accounts of their experiences, including Primo Levi’s If This is a Man (Auschwitz) and Paul Oppenheimer’s Belsen to Buckingham Palace (Bergen Belson). The latter book I acquired at the pre-visit seminar. Consequently I thought I had a good understanding of this period of history. Little did I know.
We left Krakow Airport by coach and stopped first at Oswiecim - the town adjacent to Auschwitz Birkenau. I knew nothing of this town but learned that before the war there had been a population of 8,000 Jews (58 per cent of the overall population). We stood on the site where the ‘Great Synagogue’ once stood, now just grass and trees. This was burned down by the Nazis in November 1939 and was never rebuilt as there was no longer a Jewish population to attend it.
We then proceeded to Auschwitz I and then to Birkenau (Auschwitz II). Reading books on Auschwitz had helped me understand the procedures that the Nazis employed to ensure the smooth running of the camps and Auschwitz Birkenau in particular. However, when I entered these sites, although my previous knowledge was of great help to me, one thing affected me greatly. This was the sheer size of both sites, the second (Birkenau) extending further than the eye could see. This was a great shock to me as no images I had seen before had prepared me for this, even my own pictures taken during my visit totally failed to convey the scale of these sites.
When standing at the entrance of Birkenau and looking to the right, I could see no definite end. When looking to the left, I could see no definite end. When looking straight forward, again, I could see no definite end to the camp. I learned that this site alone was equivalent to the size of 420 football pitches. This should change the mind of a person struggling to accept the numbers involved. Certainly, this helped me to understand how so many people had died at Auschwitz.
On a more intimate level were a number of rooms I visited at Auschwitz I. In one room there were approximately 40,000 pairs of shoes and in another were piled suitcases. These suitcases all had the names and personal details of the prisoners on them. This was part of the Nazi deception that they were to be resettled and their luggage returned to them. The most affecting of these rooms was one filled with long tresses of female human hair which was to be used in textile manufacture. This was all part of the Nazi process to dehumanise their prisoners and included the distribution of ill-fitting clothing, un-matched shoes and lack of identity: ‘you are not a human being, you are merely a number’.
Although I now know a lot more about the Holocaust than I did before my visit, the part that I find most difficult and may possibly never understand is how such an educated and cultured country as Germany could allow itself to carry out such acts of inhumanity to mankind. Think Bach, Brahms and Beethoven - sticking to the great Bs of music alone! My view is that although it may often cause controversy and personal grief, none of us should be afraid to speak out and make our voices heard when we fundamentally disagree with a course of events.
