The wall itself was not very big. In fact, it looked rather small as I placed the palm of my hand against it. It was quiet around me, except for the voice of the tour guide and the other visitors who were shuffling around her to get a better listen. The guide informed me that the wall I was looking upon was in fact dubbed the Death Wall, located next to Block No. 10. This particular block houses the remnants of some of the cruelest exploits that have taken place at Auschwitz. The guide told a story of how a mother and her infant daughter were placed against the wall as the mother burrowed the baby tightly against her chest. The Nazi soldiers shot the infant in the head first and then shot the mother as she continued to clutch the child in her arms. I was standing at the very spot where a mother and her child had been murdered, yet, even then, it was a hard thing for me to fathom. It was hard for me to even begin to imagine the fact that the very spot I was in served as the site for the extermination of over 1,100,000 jews alone.
This feeling of detachment or perhaps disbelief followed me as I spent several hours touring the Auschwitz- Birkenau Memorial. As I visited Poland that summer in 2014, I knew that Auschwitz was certainly a place I had to see. Due to my Polish ancestry, I have always had a passion for studying this dark period in human history with humility and intrigue. As a toddler, I resided in the former Warsaw ghetto on Anielewicza Street. It is currently located across from the Holocaust Memorial, where many world leaders continue to visit in order to pay their respects. Upon entering the campgrounds, I was not quite sure as to how the visitation would work. I was with my cousin, who had previously visited the camp, and after paying the tour fee (visiting Auschwitz itself is actually free of charge) we were ushered into a dark room to view a brief video. Clips of emaciated people who resembled live skeletons were juxtaposed with abrasive music that suddenly made the horror of the location come to life.
I stared upwards as I passed under the gate that read Arbeit Macht Frei (“work will set you free”), that has become perhaps one of the most infamous symbols of the camp. From there, I toured the entire camp alongside the Birkenau site that unbeknownst to many is adjacent to Auschwitz a few miles away. I vividly remember seeing various rooms with glass windows that had piles of possessions behind them including luggage, eye glasses, and leg braces that had once belonged to prisoners who were brought to the camp. One room, in particular, contained nothing but piles of grey human hair that were behind glass in the one place at Auschwitz where photography is not permitted. I read the inscriptions on metal canisters that contained the Zyklon - B gas used to exterminate the prisoners inside the gas chambers. In front of the canister display, sat an actual pellet of Zyklon - B that had gone unused.
After seeing the Auschwitz side of the camp, my cousins and I took a designated shuttle bus that transferred us to Birkenau. The Birkenau site is where the train tracks are held that brought the prisoners to Auschwitz, and served as the place where they were examined to determine as to whether they would be sent to death or forced labor. The Birkenau site showcases the memorial aspect of the camp as well as the barracks where the prisoners were forced to sleep in dismal conditions. I made a point to feel the wooden bunks as I made my way into the barracks, reminding myself that the prisoners had virtually no pillows or blankets as they slept crowded together with four or five people per bunk. Vermin, bodily fluids, and disease served as a constant plague for those who were forced to sleep here as well. Trying to imagine these barracks filled with hundreds of people during the near five years of the camps existence seemed unimaginable to me, even as I looked upon the remnants of it.
The preservation of the Auschwitz-Birkenau site is truly remarkable. Much prestige and care gets placed into preserving all of the remnants and constructions that still remain in tact, in the hopes that future generations will continue to visit. Nearly two years later, I still find myself at a genuine loss for words when people ask me as to what it was like to visit such a horrid place. Humility and respect certainly come to mind, but I can never quite find the right words. I know for certain that I walked away foreverchanged by what I had seen that day.
