This morning we were able to visit our first concentration camp: Bergen-Belsen. It was incredible. First we met with the directors of the museum and memorial. They let us in at 9am (one full hour before it opens to the public) and gave us some orientation. Then they split us into 4 groups and each group had a guide that took us through some history of the camp, through the museum, then through the monuments on the grounds of the camp itself.
Marker just inside the original camp
The focus of the museum and memorial is to give a name to each individual imprisoned (as best as they can – they don’t show any photograph unless then can document who that person is and give some background on him/her) and to give a voice to them as well. Each video has a survivor speaking in their own voice, their own language. They do not dub a translator’s voice over the top. They provide subtitles in a couple of languages instead. They are very sensitive to the idea of allowing the survivors to retain their own “voice.”
The camp actually began as a Prisoner of War camp run by the German Army (it’s located in Germany itself). Then later, a Concentration Camp was added. This camp was no extermination camp – the purpose of the camp was not to kill people in large numbers – but it was an exchange camp. The Nazi government needed money by 1943 so they decided to “ransom” Jews to outside organizations and foreign nations. They would be held here before being transferred out of Germany once the “ransom” was paid. However, the system didn’t work very well and only about 2,500 people were exchanged in this fashion.
The large number of deaths (over 70,000 total including 20,000 Soviet POW’s, 30,000 Jews, and various others including Jehovah’s Witnesses, Gypsies, and Homosexuals) were the result of overcrowding, little food, and abysmal living conditions. 18,000 died in the last month the camp was in use alone. Approximately 15,000 died after the British liberated the camp due to their poor physical condition.
Video exists of the British bulldozing the bodies into mass graves to clean the camp perimeter. When they arrived the camp was littered with corpses – completely believable when you consider 18,000 had died in the last month.
After going through the museum and learning about the chronology we went out into the camp itself. Very little remains of the camp because the British bulldozed the buildings and set fire to the wooden structures. The conditions were so bad and the inmates were dying at such a rate that they wanted to decrease the likelihood of anything spreading.
Foundation stones of barracks
The camp itself is strikingly small. At its height it held 38,000 with even more in a hastily built women’s “tent camp” and I can’t imagine how crowded it must have been. We walked through the grounds past the several mass graves that are distinguished by large mounds of earth (now with grasses and bushes growing) and marveled at the numbers of people buried in each one. In the early 1960’s groups came in and lined each mass grave with stone and built a marker in the front which lists approximately how many people are buried there. It hurts your soul to do the math. . . .
Mass grave of over 5,000 victims
We also noticed that there were several individual gravestones scattered around the camp. These do not mark any individual’s grave, but were place here in remembrance of specific people who died in this camp. The most visited marker is that of Anne Frank and her sister Margot. They died in this camp after being transferred here from Auschwitz.
While reflexcting at the mass graves we could hear gunfire in the distance. There is a NATO military base just up the road where the German Army had a base during WWII. They were out on maneuvers and you could hear them as they fired their weapons. It was an eerie feeling to be standing there hearing gunfire in the distance – all too real
a couple of the mass graves in the foreground, the memorial to the murdered in the background
We have a Jewish teacher (born in South Africa, lived in Israel, now lives in the US) in our group and he wore his kippa the entire time at the site. I have never seen him wear it before – not in Israel or in the United States – not even in Yad Vashem. But here, at an authentic site, he wore the kippa out of respect. Very touching.
After meeting up again, our entire group went out to the House of Silence where a member of our group lit a candle and another Jewish teacher read Kaddish (a prayer for the dead). I have a copy in English and I find it interesting that it never mentions death. It only exalts, praises, and glorifies God. It was beautiful.
My final impression of the site is that it is beautiful. You can’t see much impact of man – a few foundation stones and bricks, a few ceramic shards from water pipes, an old pool of water constructed to fight fires – but mostly it is a series of beautiful areas of wild flowers, grasses, and trees. You can hear birds singing in the trees – what a perfect spot for a cabin. . . . . .except for the fact that tens of thousands of people were murdered here a few decades ago.
Why can the site of such barbarism be so beautiful? Why aren’t their permanent scars on the land when something so horrific happens? I think it’s because if that’s the way it was, it would be too easy to remember – and anything worth having is worth working for. God wants us to work at remembering, not have it easy. That way it’s internalized and maybe, just maybe we’ve truly leaned something so we’ll not act as others have acted before us.
Oh yeah – the ironic item of the day: We were shown a large concrete lined pool about the size of your average home swimming pool. This pool was constructed where the camp kitchen was located. It was built there as a source of water if a fire broke out in the kitchen. Evidently the insurance company required this for the building to be insured. Can you imagine insuring your concentration camp kitchen????? Can you imagine your company insuring a concentration camp kitchen?????? Crazy – but that’s redundant compared to what I’ve already seen today. Much to ponder. . . . . .
Now we are on the long bus ride to Berlin. Everyone is quiet now. I think it’s a combination of being tired and reflecting on today’s experiences.
Wow. . . . .
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