I Thought I Knew

“I thought I knew until I learned a little.” 44,000+ labor, concentration, extermination camps. I have visited four them and am only beginning to learn. All were dedicated to the destruction of the intellectual spirit and to the end of peoples’ identity. We say never again, but are faced with questionable policies in the U. S. and throughout the world even today. 

Dressed in a warm coat with many layers underneath, the cold air still dug to the bones of my body. Winter is an pensive season to visit Holocaust sites as it may help one experience a little of what threadbare dressed prisoners experienced.

My first camp was one I had never heard. Walking through the reconstructed gates of Stutthof, I should appreciate the fortune of being able to walk out and share my experience. In my mind, Stutthof was what a concentration was suppose to look like— barracks, guard towers, and barb wire. A dense fog engulfed the property in a chilling silence. Hidden in the back of the camp lies the ultimate evil— the gas chamber and crematorium. Comparatively, this camp wasn't the worst.

Several hours to the south, nine hundred thousand were killed at Treblinka. An open field  of jagged rocks dedicated to the dead and the towns they came from pop up like hundred of shark fins just above the water. The only remnants of the camp were a few unearthed trinkets from victims and perhaps bits of ashes left in mass graves. 

I am privileged. I can leave Treblinka without a scratch. I can reflect and share my journey. Taking a swig of water from my water bought to I quench my thirst after only a 45 minute walk around what remains of the death camp. I really want a coke. My joints ache, so I take two Advil. Why were the paths made of cobblestone? It’s too hard to walk. As I maneuvered around the death grounds, I looked for the easiest path. Did the victims of Treblinka look for the easiest path to their deaths? Was it designed to be laborious to honor those who never left. 

Chelmno was a different experience for those who perished and me. It is the fourth-largest death camp in the number of Jews murdered. They were gases via carbon dioxide death trucks. Once these victims arrived, they were stripped of their belongings and loaded into a lorries. The exhaust fumes were funneled to the compartment where the men, women, and children were crammed. By the time the trucks arrived from the camp to a 4 km journey all were dead and packed tightly into the mass grave sites. 

Now that I know more, I am tasked how to share what I have seen to honor the memories of the dead as well as the call to action— Never again!