In a small countryside just outside of Linz, Austria, my emotions run uneasy. Chills climb throughout my body. You can’t really prepare yourself for visiting a place like a concentration camp.
Mauthausen became one of the last liberated labour and death camps during the Holocaust in Nazi Germany in 1945. For almost 7 years, the confines of these walls and what happened within them was a nightmare for so many men, women, husbands, wives, brothers, sisters, and children.
Walking through, I can only begin to imagine what life was like living in a Nazi concentration camp.
Warning: some of the content that follows may be disturbing.
At this point of my visit, I started to feel a sense of guilt. I’m not German nor Jewish and I didn’t live through this terrible period, but I still can’t come to grips with how we, humanity, let this happen? Why didn’t the World do more to help, and sooner? How could the guards torture innocent people and live with blood on their hands? Didn’t they feel any remorse? These rooms were places I had only learned about in books and documentaries yet I still had so many questions.
Mauthausen stands today, not as a tourist attraction by any means, but as a way to try to understand what upwards of 350,000 victims lived through at this camp. It is a memorial to pay tribute to the victims and to ensure something like this never happens again.
Rich Travel Deals says
I visited Dachau two years ago, Your writing and pictures brought back those memories, Awesome photos.
Everglades Tour says
Those pictures are really awesome to me. I was looking forward to visit a camp. Thanks
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A Cook Not Mad (Nat) says
We were in Dachau last year, the first concentration camp and model for all others. There were no crematoriums, apparently no one died there, so they say. It’s hard to describe the feeling, heavy sadness comes to mind but it’s more than that. Your descriptions and pictures brought back that feeling. Good writing.
Thanks for sharing your experience.
Cristina says
Nat, thank you for the comment. We’ve all read about it in our textbooks in school but the emotions of being right in the rooms where so many people lost their lives is unimaginable. I just can’t understand, why we couldn’t do more to help these people. Learning about it in history class or museums doesn’t compare to what you learn when you visit a place like this