Day Acht: The Eighth Day

Sunday, May 14th was a very somber day. After a breakfast at the B&B, we got on the bus and headed for Dachau.

As we rode on the bus, I wasn’t quite sure what my reaction to seeing a concentration camp in person would be. American history classes certainly teach the topic of the Holocaust, but it just isn’t something that is entirely easy to wrap your head fully around.

Once we arrived, it was easy to understand why – there is a difference between learning about something and seeing it in person. Dachau, at first glance, just seems like a giant military base. I was struck by how open and large the entire camp was. The gas chambers and crematorium revealed the sad truth of the land to all of us.

Luckily, we had a fantastic tour guide that was able to articulate what we could not see: the barracks no longer standing, the watchtowers no longer guarded, the people taken before their time. I learned more in a few minutes than I feel I had learned my whole life on the subject.

While no part of the tour was easy, it felt important. I left Dachau incredibly humbled and hopeful that never again would such an atrocity transpire. I was glad to have the opportunity to be a witness to the camp and its history.

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