It’s not often I come to write a blog article and can’t find adequate words. Hence the reason this next one in the Berlin series – our visit to Sachsenhausen concentration camp – has taken so long, and it’s mainly pictures.
On the second day in Berlin we took the S-Bahn train 45 minutes north of the city to Oranienburg, a quaint, peaceful town with a terrible past on its outskirts- the site of Sachsenhausen concentration camp, now preserved as a Holocaust memorial. I’m not going to try write my own account of Sachsenhausen. Although not usually a fan of Wikipedia, I found this article is actually pretty accurate on the camp’s history, horrors and current events, so I would endorse reading it if you want to know more background.
All I will say is that it was a warm summer’s day when we visited, but a peculiar chill came from nowhere, nipping at our bare arms.
Very… moving. Many family members lost to concentration camps in WWII. I’d really like to go to the Holocaust Museum in Washington, DC. I can’t find anyone willing to go with me! I still remember how my normally adventurous and now deceased Uncle Gene, who was pretty much up for anything, served in WWII, first in France and then amongst the troops sent to free American prisoners of war from a concentration camp. Uncle Gene had never refused any request of mine. But when I asked if he’d go with me to the Holocaust Museum, there was this pregnant pause and a flatness to his voice that I’d never heard before, as he said: “No.” And I knew he meant it. And I knew never to bring that subject up again. I’m sorry, Uncle Gene.