I have
seen pictures on the Internet. I have read books upon books. But nothing could
have prepared me for what I witnessed today at the Majdanek, the former
concentration and death camp, located just outside Lublin, Poland.
From the exterior, the layout of the camp looked exactly how I had
pictured it: Rows upon rows of barracks, a building with a large chimney hidden
in the distance, and a barbed wire fence surrounding the entire area. Although
I knew what to expect to see in terms of the camp’s exterior, the interior
remained a mystery.
The
first building we went into was the shower room and gas chamber. In all
honesty, I both dreaded and craved to see this building the most. I did not
want to view this building solely out of curiosity. I wanted to view it because
this is the building which either gave the prisoners hope or suffering,
depending on which part of the building they were escorted to. I wanted to see
how one building could have immense amounts of power over the prisoners. At the
same time, I dreaded to stand in the room where the brutal mass murder of
thousands of innocent people began.
Once I entered the building with the group, I understood the power
that this horrific building contains because I was able to physically feel it.
The pain that I felt was as if the aura of what happened still hung heavy in
the air and was weighing down on my chest. Although it has been approximately
seventy years since the gas chamber’s final kill, the pain it delivered then
had the power to consume me today.
We
first walked into the shaving section of this particular building. This is the
section where all of the prisoners were dehumanized further, having all their
body hair shaved off. They lost their identity and their dignity. While
standing on the exact concrete floor in which people were when this event took
place, I was filled with so many emotions my body did not know how to cope. My
legs began to feel weak and my heart began to race.
The next room we visited was where the victims were cleaned and
showered from filth and hidden valuables. In this room our guide read us
survivor testimony from a little Jewish girl. It is as follows:
My mom and I were waiting a long time outside
while the guards tried to organize everything. I was complaining to my mom and
she told me to have patience and how it will be our turn soon enough and when
our turn arrives, they will shower us then we will be escorted to rooms where
we will eat followed by some rest. I asked her if she was sure they would not
kill us and she reassured me with a knowing smile and explained how everyone
else who went in to the showers were able to dress then go get sleep and food
so why would it be different for us. With her reassuring words I was beginning
to look forward to the shower and the rooms. When the time for our shower
finally came and I was standing in the showers along with many other women, I
wanted to run and give my mother a big hug and show her how much I loved her
for being right. But as I looked around, I could not find my mother. I turned
to the lady beside me to ask if she had seen my mother and she said, ‘your
mother is gone. I will be your mother’.
Following
the reading of this story, tears immediately clouded my vision and I was filled
with a sort of pain that I have never felt before. The pounding of my heart
continued to increase and I could no longer keep my emotions inside. I began to
cry. I was not crying because I was simply sad for what took place. Rather, I
was crying because I could not imagine the pain and suffering that this little
girl, as well as countless others, have had to endure for no reason. I could
not imagine losing the one thing that is most important in my life: my family.
-Brianna T.
When it was first announced that the group would be arriving at Majdanek
I was quite confused, as we were still in a big city named, Lublin. On our last
moment on the bus, a re-occurring question passed through my thoughts, “How can
the citizens of Lublin look over this once operating concentration camp, and be
reminded of the haunting past?” This was quite frightening and alarming for me.
It was emotionally difficult just walking through Majdanek for a couple of
hours, but there are many citizens who look over it every time they look out
their windows.
When we
drove into the driveway I was completely traumatized to see barrack, after
barrack lined up in multiple rows. Over the course of the 2015 Germany/Poland
trip, we have visited other former camps, but the vast number of buildings
still intact since WW2, overwhelmed me. It is one thing to see pictures of the
Holocaust, but it’s a whole other experience witnessing remnants of it's
history right in front of you.
When we
started our tour, we were shown a path, which was known as “Black Road”. The
reason for this name was because it was where many perished after spending
endless hours in crowded cattle cars, with minimal food and water. As I quietly
walked down this path I couldn’t imagine the thoughts these prisoners might
have experienced; Fear? Cloudiness? Unease? This path represented the last
steps of many innocent human beings, who were once remembered with a name and a
story, but would be killed, identified with a number and a race.
Every
time we arrived at each concentration camp I thought of those who had stood
here before me; the pain and suffering they had to endure, the loss of family
and friends, the loss of identity. Over the course of this field study my eyes
have opened to the notion that life is truly a gift. I am extremely grateful
for the life I have been blessed with: my amazing family, my great friends, and
the opportunities I have been able to take part in. I am also truly thankful
for the freedom I have living in Canada. Canada is a country where all
ethnicities, sexualities, and religions come together as one great community. I
am thankful to be able to say that I am Canadian.
-Maddy F.
