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Speaking of History...

In 1991 I traveled to Europe with a friend. I had been once before, 4 years earlier as a student and with my sister. Our home base was in a hotel in London. The second time, our home base was our suitcases.

We stayed with Michelle's Uncle Alex for 5 days because he lived in Switzerland and who wouldn't want to be in Switzerland. We arrived from Austria by train but made a short stop just outside of Munich in a town called Dachau.

If the name sounds familiar, it is because Dachau was a concentration camp in Hitler's rein. Set just a quarter of a mile from the village, it is surrounded by quaint homes, fields and forests; an idyllic backdrop for such horrors.

Most signs were in German and difficult to understand however, there were also photos of some of the medical experiments. No German language was necessary to comprehend.

The barracks are mostly gone and have been replaced with green fields. Only two remain. There is no evidence where the barracks once stood. Although gas chambers were installed, there is no evidence they were used. A crematorium was built for the purpose of burning "evidence" of their crimes. This was used excessively.

The barbed wire fences remain and a warning upon exit states, "Those who do not learn from history are doomed to repeat it."

As I left the concentration camp that day, I felt a little jilted that I couldn't read German but I realized the sound of sobbing was coming from my own throat. Until that moment, I didn't know I was crying.

After I came home and had the film developed, I noticed that on every picture I took of Dauchau there was I spot of red in the corner - the color of blood. The spot did not appear on any other photo.

My friend, Laura L. told me of her experience at Dachau. She went in fall and it started to snow. The outlines of the barracks manifested themselves with the snow not sticking but melting.

Every few years I get the inclination to read more about the Holocaust. The inclination hit me again about a month ago. I have a stack of 6 or 7 books that I intended on reviewing on my blog but the idea was eclipsed by Saturday night's experience.

Let's not go judging my love affair with the DVR but I had DVR'd a movie of a book I planned to read, "The Boy in the Striped Pajamas." With everybody asleep, I planned on skipping through the boring parts and watching it in about 45 minutes.

It was riveting. The cinematography was outstanding, the camera angles adding to the story. The actors/actresses were completely convincing. Elsa's arguments and mental breakdown was completely believable and wherever they got the actors for Schmuel and Bruno - Brilliant.

In good conscience, I can not recommend this movie simply because it does not contain a happy ending. On the other hand, during WWII, there were no happy endings.

My own uncle, now in his early 80s returned home from a tour in Europe at the end of the war and screamed out in his sleep night after night. He was infantry in France and was also part of clean-up when the concentration camps were liberated. He saw more horrors than he would ever tell and so he stayed silent until he returned to France with his son 50 years later where he spoke reverently and haltingly of some of the experiences he had.

If you are so inclined to research Nazi Germany, I do highly recommend this movie. It is seen through the eyes of an 8 year old boy, the son of the commandant over a concentration camp. The violence is implied rather than explicit which, perhaps, makes it more believable and stirring. Chances are good that an 8 year old boy of his social standing would be protected from the realities of what man was doing to fellow man.

I loved the movie. It is poignant, beautifully written and executed (no pun intended), and completely worth watching. Except if your name is Joey and you are my sister. I already know she'd hate it.

Comments

  1. By all accounts, my grandfather came back from the war changed and haunted and didn't speak of it. Ever. My husband's extended family was, of course, wiped out.

    The film sounds beautiful and moving. I can't watch any more movies about the topic or read any more accounts. I have a rather delicate tightrope balancing act of fighting daily to stay in a happy place. I will "never forget" but will leave the watching and reading to you.

    You are good.

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  2. I was there in '92. I read/speak German. I have never forgotten that visit. It still haunts me and your description put me right back on that soil.

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  3. I have always been interested in all things holocaust. Perhaps because of the inspiring stories I hear more than the ones with the "happy endings", however, you put it well "in WWII, there were no happy endings".

    I've wondered about this film. I'll see it, but will be prepared.

    Great post

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  4. I might have to check out the movie. There are other movies I've seen about the Holacaust - Schindler's List, Sophie's Choice, and Life is Beautiful.

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  5. Learning about those times really puts things in perspective. I saw an older man on a train once that had a tattoo on his arm of numbers. I was probably only five or six. He was sitting across from us and my mom was busy with the baby. I asked him about it and he smiled and told me to always remember how blessed I was. My mom told me later what the tattoo meant. Even though I was young I still remember it.

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  6. My mother along with her mother (my Oma) lived in a Displaced Persons camp for a time. They were taken from their home in Ukraine and sent to Austria in freight trains. Pain, hardship and suffering was their life but there were also miracles.
    My Oma almost died but was healed and lived to see me graduate from High School. They were able to come to the United States and start a new life.
    I feel blessed to have such strong women as my examples. I hope I develop their strength and courage.

    Thanks for reminding me of where I came from today. I enjoyed seeing that movie too. It showed it from a different perpective.

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  7. My Granmotheris German and grew upin Iowa, but her parents came over here from Germany right before the hoorrors...they were some of the very few who were able to escape through the kindness of others. My life is indebted to them. Wonderful post.

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  8. I have almost watched this movie many times. We were homeschooled and my mom had us do an indepth study on WWll, along with videos of the concentration camps. The images were burned into my brain.

    When I read about the pictures you took and the spot of red on them it sent shivers down my spine.

    I don't know if I have it in my to watch that movie, normally I don't watch movies that have sad ending...but like you said there were no happy endings in WW11.

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