Auschwitz II or Auschwitz-Birkenau is ten times larger than the first, though vaguely similar yet magnified in purpose. Dusty and wide, its red buildings unsurprisingly resembled Auschwitz I. Its acres of grassy land, fenced in by lengthy barbed wires masquerade like a recently developed park waiting to be filled with graffiti. When we arrived, other tour groups were already huddled in a specific area - some caught in a trance of I could only imagine, caused by the horrific stories of camp life, while some, shaded away from the sun's prickling light, loitered under the main entrance. We walked past the fading gate popular for its appearance in Schindler's List to be welcomed by two railway tracks. We would later find out its main purpose - one for incoming prisoners, the other, for picking them up. To its right lies the washed-out carmine barns, some of it carefully preserved while others show marks of it going up in flames.
Reluctant to lose any time, our guide led us to the first shelter known as the prisoner's communal toilet. Hitler and his men with their deranged idea of racism really thought little of their prisoners. Empty and hollow, long trenches with cemented toilet openings act as the camp's urinal. It was the poorest living conditions at its finest. Lined up, thousands of prisoners were only given a few minutes to use them during specific breaks, otherwise, they do not get to use them at all. Some prisoners also worked here, scooping out the mushy feces of their relieved fellow inmates. Ironically, this is one of the "best" places to work around the camp - the Nazi's, afraid of catching diseases, left the workers to themselves and stayed away from it.
Reluctant to lose any time, our guide led us to the first shelter known as the prisoner's communal toilet. Hitler and his men with their deranged idea of racism really thought little of their prisoners. Empty and hollow, long trenches with cemented toilet openings act as the camp's urinal. It was the poorest living conditions at its finest. Lined up, thousands of prisoners were only given a few minutes to use them during specific breaks, otherwise, they do not get to use them at all. Some prisoners also worked here, scooping out the mushy feces of their relieved fellow inmates. Ironically, this is one of the "best" places to work around the camp - the Nazi's, afraid of catching diseases, left the workers to themselves and stayed away from it.
The camp dorms looked exactly like the communal toilets outside, while exchanging its shoddy concrete urinals into tightly squished bunk beds. No fancy wallpaper or elegant furniture, just some thin roof, thin walls, and cheaply made bunks of three. Straws were the only bedding used and rats, a nasty companion. Eight or more prisoners slept on each bed, whom were often caught fighting to secure their place on the top bunk. Bathroom or bathroom breaks during bed time were prohibited, which means, the ones on top misses out on the flow of piss and the slow slump of excrement throughout the night.
As we moved out into the field, we walked towards the railway tracks that greeted us where a windowless railcar stood. This, our tour guide said, is one of the original cars used to transport the Jews into Auschwitz, mostly Hungarian Jews. Packed with prisoners, thousands of deaths occur here even before it reached Auschwitz - suffocation and starvation, mostly the cause. Once in the camp, prisoners' fate were no different. Deviously welcomed by an SS commander and his troops, the commander would ask prisoners to line up in two. On the right - young, robust men ready for work. On the left - children, women, old and sick men, deemed useless. Those in the right would live for another day as slaves, and the other, would be asked to "take a shower," a Zyklon B shower. Families, friends and loved ones would see last of each other here.
As we moved out into the field, we walked towards the railway tracks that greeted us where a windowless railcar stood. This, our tour guide said, is one of the original cars used to transport the Jews into Auschwitz, mostly Hungarian Jews. Packed with prisoners, thousands of deaths occur here even before it reached Auschwitz - suffocation and starvation, mostly the cause. Once in the camp, prisoners' fate were no different. Deviously welcomed by an SS commander and his troops, the commander would ask prisoners to line up in two. On the right - young, robust men ready for work. On the left - children, women, old and sick men, deemed useless. Those in the right would live for another day as slaves, and the other, would be asked to "take a shower," a Zyklon B shower. Families, friends and loved ones would see last of each other here.
Germany or the Germans, a far cry from their dark, Nazi history today (we jokingly consider Germany our second European home), have always been efficient. And that efficiency spread throughout the camps, especially Birkenau. The gassing of the prisoners came easy for them, but it was the ridding of the bodies, the burning of the bodies that took longer. Hence, they sought to build more and bigger crematoriums. But the deaths were too numerous to count, numerous than the crematoriums could handle. So the Nazi's burned their bodies on an open fire. And unlike Auschwitz I's crematorium still intact, what was left of Birkenau are ruins. The Nazi's, in hopes of covering up their crime, tried to burn everything down. But the cry of innocent blood were much louder than those of its crackling flames. Escapee's and sympathizers had been secretly taking pictures and passing the horrendous info along to the rest of the world. And by the time the allies came, they already had a general idea of what's going on at these concentration camps before Birkenau finally saw liberation's light.
The sun was at its mid-afternoon peak, the wind dry. The first few groups we've seen earlier had headed back out, replaced by new saddened and stunned faces. Our group slowly dispersed while some stayed with our guide, asking more questions upon questions. I had them too, about those who escaped. How did they do it? How did they not get caught? But those questions were selfish and trivial. I only hope to find some assurance that there must be something good to celebrate on, that amidst its haunted history, Birkenau, took mercy and set others free. But as if Auschwitz knew my heart's content, the tour guide became occupied with other tourists that to wait for her meant missing the bus in half an hour. So Ralph and I decided to explore the rest of Birkenau into the woods. We kept the mood light, joking how the German's are still the same - efficient, but the atmosphere refused to improve, remaining somber. There was a silence that passed between Ralph and I, imagining that the same unpaved road we were trudging on were the same ones, prisoners, workers and Nazi's trudged alike, that the same unpaved road carry strewn human ashes. We passed by guard houses, tall trees, and ponds then hesitated to go even further and peek at the last building standing in the area. The bus might leave without us, was our excuse but deep within, sadness. Saddened by the sound of the eerie air, the cacophony of innocent, hollow cries.
The sun was at its mid-afternoon peak, the wind dry. The first few groups we've seen earlier had headed back out, replaced by new saddened and stunned faces. Our group slowly dispersed while some stayed with our guide, asking more questions upon questions. I had them too, about those who escaped. How did they do it? How did they not get caught? But those questions were selfish and trivial. I only hope to find some assurance that there must be something good to celebrate on, that amidst its haunted history, Birkenau, took mercy and set others free. But as if Auschwitz knew my heart's content, the tour guide became occupied with other tourists that to wait for her meant missing the bus in half an hour. So Ralph and I decided to explore the rest of Birkenau into the woods. We kept the mood light, joking how the German's are still the same - efficient, but the atmosphere refused to improve, remaining somber. There was a silence that passed between Ralph and I, imagining that the same unpaved road we were trudging on were the same ones, prisoners, workers and Nazi's trudged alike, that the same unpaved road carry strewn human ashes. We passed by guard houses, tall trees, and ponds then hesitated to go even further and peek at the last building standing in the area. The bus might leave without us, was our excuse but deep within, sadness. Saddened by the sound of the eerie air, the cacophony of innocent, hollow cries.
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