CAN ONE ACTUALLY COME TO UNDERSTAND THE TRULY INCOMPREHENSIBLE?

At the end of February, 2024, I was flying home from Europe and had a seven hour layover in Munich. On the way there, I had a nearly five hour layover in Frankfurt and went into the city to do some exploring, so I knew that I had enough time to at least do some looking around. I didn’t know much about Munich, so I began researching what one could see in the time that I had. There were gorgeous old cathedrals, markets, beer halls and museums. These were all things I would enjoy, but a thought entered my head, wasn’t this where the Nazi’s started, surely there was a concentration camp nearby that I could visit.

I had always wanted to visit a concentration camp, you could even say that it was on my travel bucket list. It feels weird to have something so dark, so horrifying, on a bucket list, but I knew that I needed to see them. There are just some things that need to be seen in person, not because I didn’t believe it was true, but to truly understand, to see it, to feel it.

Auschwitz and Birkenau come to the forefront when most think of the Holocaust. The reason that Auschwitz and Birkenau are the most talked about is because they had the most survivors at the end of the war. Reading that fact alone would give you a false sense of how truly deplorable it was. To add some perspective to this, approximately 1.3 million Jews, Gypsies, Soviet prisoners of war, and several other groups that were deemed inferior to the Nazi’s, were transported to Auschwitz. There were 7000 people left in the camp when the Soviets liberated them, most of whom were extremely ill or close to death and not expected to survive. 60,000 people were forced out weeks earlier as the allies gained ground on what is now known as “the death march.” 15000 of those forced to march succumbed to the elements, starvation or were shot by guards when they could no longer go on. That left approximately 45,000 people out of 1.3 million, a 0.03% survival rate. (Frost 2020)

I’ll admit, I did not know much about Dachau, where it was, nor the history of this camp. I also did not realise its proximity to Munich. To this major city. That something so unthinkable was just a subway ride away from the city centre where people happily sit in cafes enjoying apfelstrudel, or sip on steins of Hefeweizen in the open air beer gardens. That this area was surrounded by the sweet suburb of Dachau, on the grounds of an abandoned munitions factory, was just ten miles northwest of Munich. (Dachau Concentration Camp Memorial)


In my imagination, I pictured these camps out in the middle of nowhere, away from the citizens, away from prying eyes and judgement, but alas, there it was, steps away from town, surrounded by homes where the SS men lived with their families, their children, just outside the fences of barbed wire, patrolled by towers with men ready to shoot anyone who tried to escape. It is realisations such as these that cause me pause. I am fully aware of the propaganda that was being distributed to the people, but how could one have turned a blind eye to these camps? To the emaciated people on the other side of the fence? To the smell and ash that billowed out of the crematorium chimneys?

I do not blame the German people for the atrocities of the war. Fear of repercussion against a fanatical government was a real thing. People who disagreed were beaten in the streets, imprisoned, had their homes and businesses burned to the ground. They were told that the Nazi’s were saving Germany without telling them of the sinister ways they had decided to do so. The Nazi’s owned all the media outlets and propaganda was rampant. Millions of German people are victims of Hilter’s reign, but the truly unfathomable is that thousands of people went along with it. This is what I struggle to comprehend.

I have no illusions that the world is rainbows and unicorns. I know there is pure evil in this world. There are serial killers, murderers, rapists, child abusers, terrorists. I have learned about the genocides in Rwanda and Bosnia. I have been to the killing fields in Cambodia. I have seen the tower containing hundreds of human skulls, and the many pits where people were executed and thrown into like garbage. 

I have seen the ugly side of humanity first hand as a paramedic. I have lifted the lifeless body of an infant onto the floor to attempt resuscitation after succumbing to the physical abuse and starvation she sustained at the hands of her own parents. There are evil people. But the sheer amount of evil people that took part in the “final solution,” how was that possible? How were that many people evil? How did that many people have so much hate in their hearts?

I am the type of person that seeks answers when I don’t know something. I am not afraid to ask questions. I do not shy away from topics that are uncomfortable or disturbing. I watch true crime documentaries because I am fascinated by the process of discovering who and why something was done. I prefer nonfiction to fiction. I want to see all sides to a story, not just the one that fits my previous beliefs.

I can’t remember what grade we learned about the Holocaust in social studies, but I do remember its impact on me. I could not believe something like that could happen. That someone could hate a certain race, religion, people so much that they would try to rid the world of them. That six million people could be exterminated like they were nothing. This is still something that my mind cannot reconcile. No matter how many documentaries, articles, interviews and books written by survivors, images of bodies piled on top of each other, I cannot fathom how this happened. Maybe something so incomprehensible cannot be understood.

What has never once entered my mind is whether or not it DID happen. There is no question. There are pictures, eyewitnesses, survivors, and though all accounts are truly unbelievable due to the brutality of it, it must be believed. To state that it is a hoax or myth or even exaggerated makes you complicit. In Anthony Pitch’s book Our crime was being Jewish, he states “people who say the Holocaust is a hoax cannot answer an elderly survivor who asked me: If the Holocaust never happened, then where is my family?” Thousands remained resolute with the objective to survive simply so that they could tell the World what was happening in these camps. (Pitch 2020)

I have always been highly attuned to the energies and emotions around me. I feel deeply and sometimes that is really hard. When the people close to me are hurting, I feel it in my soul. And though I have no direct connection to anyone that suffered at the hands of the Nazi’s (that I am aware of anyway), the moment I stepped onto the ground at Dachau, a heaviness overcame me. I had to take deep breaths. I felt sick to my stomach. The whole drive there from the airport, I tried grounding myself. I knew it was going to be a difficult place to enter, but nothing could prepare me for that feeling. I had felt something similar as I visited the killing fields in Cambodia, but I was younger then, and not as attuned with myself. The older I get, the more I understand, the more I feel. 

As you enter the gates, the first thing I noticed was the phrase I had read so many times in literature from survivors, ‘Arbeit Macht Frei’ (‘Work will set you free’) affixed in the iron bars. I know this phrase marked the entrance to many, if not all, Nazi run concentration camps, but I often wonder if there was ever a time when they actually meant that work would set them free, since it was the first camp to be established, or if it was always a cruel joke to give them unrealistic hope. Were they this sadistic right from the start?

The ground was covered with these perfectly white pebbles and I could not ignore what a contrast it must have been 80 years ago. The barracks had been mostly destroyed at the end of the war and all that remained was the brick outlines of where they once stood, as well as markers stating what kind of building was there. A replica of the barracks was erected so that you could see the wooden bunks, the latrines, and the coolness of the buildings. Several towers checkered the barbed wire fence of the compound, with ditches dug on the inside of the fence, presumably to slow prisoners trying to escape or to throw themselves at the electrified fence to end their suffering. 

At the far end of the camp, off to the left, there is a break in the fence with a small bridge that crosses a creek. The serene sound of the water is quickly broken by the realisation of what falls just around the corner, the crematorium. I knew it was there, yet it felt like walking into a brick wall when I saw it. My heart began racing and I felt short of breath. I entered the building to a small hallway leading to the “shower room.” Inside, there were pipes from the roof and wall, but I think we all know by now that no water ever flowed through those pipes. I leaned against the wall, not sure if I was going to throw up or pass out. The horror and fear they must have felt. The realisation that you, and everyone around you, were about to die. That mothers and fathers clung to their children, knowing there was nothing they could do to protect them. The feeling was all encompassing. 

The next room was an empty square room, where the bodies would be held after they were removed from the gas chambers, and prior to being placed in the “ovens.” Then I entered the crematorium, I was faced with the open doors of the brick ovens that led to chimneys in the roof. Above the ovens, was a thick wooden beam in the rafters with several large hooks attached. This is where they would hang the prisoners, so that they could snuff out their lives and then easily throw them in the fire after. Looking at the seemingly small opening, it was hard to imagine that they would fit three or four bodies in at a time. 

I wanted to pay my respects, to take it in, but the feeling was so heavy that I needed air. I wandered over to the back of the building to an area with a memorial, surrounded by beautiful green hedges, with tiny beautiful flowers blooming, even in the cool air of February. The marble stone in front of the grounds stated “Grave of Thousands Unknown.” As I stood there, a tear rolled down my cheek. I whispered “I am so sorry this happened to you.” I was overcome with sadness, but also anger that this was something that human beings did to their fellow humans. 

It was at that moment that I knew I had to write something. I had to try to reconcile how this could have happened. How the world let this happen. How there could be so much hate for someone, for a group of people, for millions of people, that they could somehow justify to themselves that it was ok to kill, to torture, to starve, to
completely lack any humanity. 

I have read countless articles, documents, historical facts, trying to understand how the Jews became such a target for hate for the Nazi’s. The obvious reasoning one would think would be religion, but that didn’t even play into the Nazi rationale for anti-semitism. I have also never understood using religion as a reason for war. I don’t pretend to know the ins and outs of every religion, but I have a hard time believing that whatever “God” you believe in says it is ok to take someone's life.  Next was that they blamed the Jews for losing in the first World War when thousands of German Jews actually fought for their country in the war. Lastly, was Hitler and the Nazi’s belief that Germans were of a superior race, and dubbed those with Jewish blood an inferior race that was polluting the German population. 

It is my personal opinion that none of these “arguments” actually say WHY the Jews were singled out. I could come to terms perhaps if it was simply Hitler alone, with narcissistic grandiose delusions of superiority, but to somehow convince an entire nation, not to mention thousands who willingly took part in the brutality, is beyond my realm of understanding. 

The concept of mob mentality, also known as herd or hive mentality, could perhaps explain some of these individuals. When one loses self-awareness, or experiences deindividuation, within the group, they are more likely to lose inhibitions and rational thinking, doing and saying things they normally would never do. There is also the fear of dissension, with contrasting opinions and feelings being silenced, giving the inference that disagreements are not welcome and one must conform to the beliefs of the group or be outcasted, or worse even, become a target themselves. (Brush 2019)

I would ascertain that mob mentality, brainwashing from propaganda and fear of dissent played an integral part of the SS guards working at the concentration camps, but one cannot ignore that many of these camps, especially those established after 1941 and the declaration of the “final solution,” were deemed extermination camps and therefore there was no delusion that they were established for free labour but for genocide. 
Were there guards that were sent against their wishes to work in these camps? Of course. Were there more that chose these jobs, that relished in the torture of inocent people? Also yes. These are the people that I speak about. The ones that threatened, beat, humiliated and degraded other human beings. The ones that treated humans like animals. Actually worse than animals, like vermin that needed to be exterminated. To be able to look another human being in the eyes and feel hatred, or possibly worse, indifference. There were not just one or two that fell into this category, but THOUSANDS. That I cannot understand. 

Recently I started listening to the audiobook for Auschwitz: A Doctor’s Eyewitness Account, in which a foreword was written by Bruno Bettelhem. In this foreword, he raises the question as to why didn’t the Jews revolt, or fight back, when they outnumbered the SS guards? Why did they willingly walk into the gas chambers? Why didn’t they flee their homes, and their countries, when the Nazis started putting restrictions on them? (Nyiszli 2014) I am not sure if it was his intention, but this infuriated me. To suggest that these people were partly to blame for their demise. There was so much misinformation out there, I don’t think anyone, even in their wildest dreams, or should I say nightmares, would believe what they were planning and executing in these camps. 

They had family, home, businesses, their entire worlds in these countries. Most chances of fleeing, or hiding, would have meant leaving their families behind. As a mother, I can say without question, that I would not have left my children even if I had a gun to my head, and would have done everything in my power to protect them. He questions why they walked on their own accord into the gas chambers, but I rebut that they were lied to and were promised showers in most cases. Most had been crammed into cattle trains with little to eat or drink for days on end. Others had already been in the camps so long that they were so weakened that some may have welcomed death rather than enduring more torture. Why didn’t they cause a riot, protest, revolt? Self preservation and protection of their loved ones. They may have outnumbered them, but the SS had machine guns, knowing that you and your loved ones would meet certain death if you fought back, what would you do? He argues that even facing certain death, you could have saved thousands, but how can he say that? He doesn’t know how it would have turned out. Perhaps a revolt would have meant less survivors. I don’t think anyone could say what they would do if they were in the same situation. They did what they had to to survive, even if that meant doing things that killed them a little inside.

One could make the same argument about the SS guards, that you don’t know what you would do unless you were in the same situation. I want to think that there were many that had some humanity left, that still did what they were told to do because that is what they had to do to survive, but without maliciousness. I don’t know what I would have done either, but I would like to think that I do not have it in my soul to be as cruel, as abusive, and as dismissive as so many of them were, no matter what situation faced me. I cannot say that I know in certainty, but as close to certainty as possible and that is what makes me struggle with understanding. As I said earlier, maybe there are some things that are so incomprehensible that the sane human mind will never be able to understand.

What I do know is that we cannot forget. We cannot let this history be replaced because it is uncomfortable to talk about, to know about. We cannot let those that perished in these camps to have died in vain. We must remember to keep those accountable so never to experience anything like this ever again. The number of living survivors that can tell the stories first hand, and getting smaller and smaller as the years go one. We cannot let the memories die with them.

 With that said, I will end this with one last quote from a survivor:

“There will be denials that this ever happened, so you had better know that not only did it happen, but there aren’t any words to describe the real agonies, the real torture, the wasted lives, and the ruined lives of the families that came back. I hope my children will never feel this pain. I tried to protect them. I tried not to talk about it, but now that they are adults, they have to assume the responsibility and pass on the legacy from generation to generation. It isn’t only for our children. It should be everyone’s children, for you must remember them forever. They must not die in vain. And this must never be repeated again. If you let those cowards write these books, because they don’t want to assume the responsibility for what they did to us, then we have lost. They’re marching again in Austria with swastikas. How does that make a survivor feel? We may not be here much longer, but it is you that must prevent it. You can only prevent it if you're not going to be afraid to read the books that we leave behind, to watch the movies that we leave behind. If you are not going to be afraid of a little sadness, then we have accomplished something. When somebody comes over to me and tells me proudly, “I cannot read this book. I cannot go to a movie to see anything to do with the Holocaust because it is too sad,” don’t expect me to give you a pat on the shoulder. If we could live it, you can watch it.”

-Cecilie Klein-Pollack in an
Interview with Sandra Bradley for the
USHMM film Testimony, RG-
50.042*-0018
(Pitch 2020)



References:

Brush, Kate. 2019. “herd mentality.” TechTarget. https://www.techtarget.com/whatis/definition/mob-mentality.
Dachau Concentration Camp Memorial. n.d. KZ Gedenkstätte Dachau: Startseite. https://www.kz-gedenkstaette-dachau.de/.

Frost, Natasha. 2020. “Horrors of Auschwitz.” Horrors of Auschwitz: The Numbers Behind WWII's Deadliest Concentration Camp | HISTORY. https://www.history.com/news/auschwitz-concentration-camp-numbers.

Nyiszli, Miklos. 2014. Auschwitz: A Doctor's Eyewitness Account. Translated by Richard Seaver and Tibère Kremer. N.p.: Brilliance Publishing, Incorporated.
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Pitch, Anthony S. 2020. Our Crime Was Being Jewish: Hundreds of Holocaust Survivors Tell Their Stories. N.p.: Skyhorse.