The Hard One

Yes, one of the most feared destinations of the mid-1900’s, now a tourist attraction.

You question how to feel or what to think on the bus ride to the concentration camp, but when you see the entrance and the iron gates, the feeling of dread takes over your body and a lump builds in your throat, one that doesn’t leave until you leave the camp.

The stones on the ground provide a path throughout the camp to follow, and each mark has a story behind it.

The watchtowers tell of the story of guards with guns at the ready to shoot to kill anyone they pleased at that moment.

The bunks in the living quarters tell the story of the tight sleeping arrangement, and the disease that flooded the chambers because so many people were dying in their sleep from starvation and malnourishment.

The barbed wire fences tell the story of the blood that was shed on them from prisoners who were strong and willed enough to attempt to escape their Hell.

The altars of Christianity, Judaism and more tell the story of hope prisoners had that their God would eventually release them by death or freedom.

The back fields tell the story of the shooting range where prisoners would frantically run for their lives as bored guards would use them as target practice.

The empty wall with a soaked ground below told the story of the death wall where prisoners would line up and guards would shoot them down, one-by-one, for fun.

The extermination building told the story of screams and coughing form prisoners expecting the complete opposite of the fate that had been forced on them.

The creek told the story of a past-red water flow from the prisoners killed and tossed to the water.

The numbered units on the main drag tell the story or exhaustion and overheating that plagued the prisoners building more living quarter units to expand their camp as one of the largest in Germany.

When you leave the camp, the only thought to fill the mind is, “Why should I be allowed to walk out of this gate when so many others were not able?”