The rock beds represent the former barracks that have been destroyed.
We took a train to Dachau to visit the museum of the first concentration camp today, and I will preface this post by saying it’s going to be very hard to describe. The weather was absolutely beautiful, which almost made it even more sickening. The sky was a vibrant blue and the sun was bright and warm. But there was still a chill in the air. We entered through a gate with the wrought iron promise of “arbeit macht frei” which translates to “work makes free.”
Our guide, Arnoud, said a question that he gets from a lot of groups is “Am I allowed to take pictures?” “No,” he answered. “ You have to take pictures. You have to show the world what happened.”
The original barracks had been dismantled and a mock one was rebuilt to exact replica for viewing, but everything else was authentic. Including the Krematorium. We entered through the disinfecting rooms where they surrenders all of their personal possesions and their human dignity. From there we went into the holding room, where they were told they we’re going to be able to shower.
There was a museum with stories of survivors and of those who weren’t so lucky. I found a man from Poland who shared my last name who died in 1940, Thomas Szypulski. I’ll have to ask my grandfather about it.
Jewish Memorial
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