Day #3: Bernburg and Weimar

Today we went to the Bernburg Psychiatric Hospital, where thousands of people with disabilities were euthanized. It was kind of a frightening experience because the hospital is located in the most picturesque town, where it seems like nothing of that nature could ever happen. It's so tragic that so many lives were cut short, because they were deemed "unworthy" by others. The thing that stuck out to me the most was the fact that one of the doctors who assisted with ~9000 murders and experimented on the bodies only served a year and a half in prison. It is really scary to think that people really weren't held responsible and they basically got away with these crimes. Today, the hospital is still functional and I couldn't ever imagine sending a family member there. While it is good that people are being serviced, I think that the history of the hospital still overshadows what they are doing now. (Fiona F)


Remnants of Euthanasia

When you walk down the stairs of a psychiatric hospital and step through the doors of a gas chamber, history suddenly becomes real and far too up close and personal. When you see the faces of people who died because of 'euthanasia', that's when you realize how much this matters. Seeing the pictures of people who died at Bernburg is what makes you care about keeping the memory of their deaths alive, and making sure we remember not only the Jews of the Holocaust, but the disabled and other lesser known victims.

What really shocked me was the story of Dr. Bunke, so-called "accomplice" to Bernburg's euthanasia program. He was tried in a lower court for the murders he committed, and received four years in prison - a more than lenient and unjust sentence to begin with - but then in a higher court his sentence was lowered to three years, because the excuse of sick leaves and such meant he didn't kill as many people as he could have, making him responsible for the deaths of 9,000 people. Three years for murdering 9,000 people. Well, not quite murdering - he never turned on the gas, he was never responsible. Of course not. Three years for helping to murder 9,000 people. 

What the hell is that?  (Jane Z)

I don't know. I don't have much to say but that was a very intense experience. It was unsettling and we went in to the actual showers where patients were euthanized. The hospital in front is also still operating. I don't know how I feel about this. That was very heavy and moving. (Elizabeth H-B)


A few hours ago, I stood in a gas chamber in Bernburg where they packed disabled people in, and sometimes watched through a window. The building was kept up, the hospital around was functioning, healing people. Some of the victims really believed it was showers, that they were going to wash and leave and be taken to rooms and treated. Instead, they were taken out, and in the next room some were laid out on tables. The staff took out some of their brains, and sent them to Berlin. 

Death is not pretty. Death is not neat. 

It was the same checkered floor, the same tiles on the walls. All clean, neat. Teenagers died there. Children. Their disabilities ranged from severe to fabricated by authorities. Did it matter in that room, who was sick and who was not? Maybe it didn't. Maybe it did. 

(Anyone could panic, locked in there with carbon monoxide. Anyone could go mad.)

Many of the nurses were trained to help mentally and physically ill people. All of the workers had to watch a gassing before they worked, and they were asked if they could handle it, and all of them, all of them said yes. What did it mean to them? Like it is now, people were actually being treated just a dozen or so meters away. Mental illnesses were being treated in that hospital, and are now. 

Even now, it is hard to breathe in the basement. I held my breath a bit unconsciously, imagining the suffocation, and then I caught myself and tried to breathe deeply, and just couldn't. It felt wrong to fill my lungs in a place where people suffocated violently--and then even breathing normally was not enough oxygen. 

The air in Germany in the green spaces (which are common), especially, the air is pure and fresh, with just a hint of flowers. Spring is here, and the lilacs are in bloom. In Grunewald and Wannsee, there was some of the best fresh air. It was the air equivalent of water fresh out of a mountain spring. There is so much green, which is a large change after this long winter.

In this basement, though, there was not enough oxygen.  (Debbie J) 

We visited the "hospital" that victims of the Holocaust were sent to today. Basically, this was the last location those people took their last breath at. The idea of how such evil had taken place in history is horrific. Our tour guide, Oliver, said something quite reassuring and heartwarming though. He said, "it's important for me to learn about this history" despite the fact of never learning about things like forceful sterilization in school. It just gives me hope that other people realize that these things and these people deserve to be remembered.  (My-Ngan T)

Walking out of the gas chamber in the basement of this hospital, I realized that I have battling feelings about the current existence of the many Nazi affiliated areas and buildings in Europe. For example, my primary association with the Euthanasia center was: "This place is evil." Should evil places like this be allowed to exist? I don't yet have my own answer to that question... Or, from the opposite perspective, is this just a place where evil things happened? Should we not associate evil events with the places that they occurred? After all, In the words of Mr. Topf, these places only "Inherited" their notoriety, it's not directly their fault...

How important is it to preserve these "places where evil things happened?"

...This is what I'm struggling with. (Hannah M)

Visiting the euthanasia center was, as expected, quite heavy. Since I had did my project on the disabled and what had happened in the hospital, I was familiar with some of what we saw. But stepping into the gas chamber, with original tiles.... So should this be a hospital? It's hard because I feel like it should be closed. Someone wondered if it's a place where evil things happened and ind now I'm starting to lean towards this idea..because it's helping people now.. And I think this was the most effective memorial so far. I couldn't even take pictures because it was something I just had to stay and process.  (Rakabe A)

Everything is greener here. 

It seems like all the colors are more vibrant. Even the grass is a deeper color. It almost makes me wish I had invested in a fancier camera! But even then I don't think the scope of it would've come out in a picture anyway. I think one of the things that makes Germany seem so pretty (the countryside at least) is that the fields seem to stretch on forever. Pictures don't do it justice. Sorry! You guys should visit Germany anyway. 

It's almost ironic to think that such horrible things happened in a place so pretty. When we were walking towards the hospital where thousands of disabled people were killed unjustly by what the nazis said was "pneumonia" or some other fabricated disease, I almost wanted it to be dark and gloomy and depressing. But there were flowers everywhere. It was so beautiful, and it's still a functioning hospital (a psychiatric hospital of all things). As much as they've done to preserve the history of what happened here, and i think they've done a pretty good job so far, you can really tell by being in Germany how it's important for life to go on too. It's something is never really thought about in depth before. I have to say, though, although I understand the practical reasons for keeping this building as a hospital, I don't think it should be a psychiatric hospital. That hits too close to home. I would not want to have my mental disabled family member treated in the same complex where he/she would've been euthanized a couple decades before for the same symptoms. It makes sense for it to be a hospital. It's always been a hospital. But I'd feel better if it were just a regular general hospital or something. 

I'm really glad I got to walk through the gas chambers, as chilling an experience as it was. It really put everything we've learned in perspective, which in a weird way made it easier for me to understand things. It made me much more sad to actually stand where people were killed than to simply read facts, which I think is a good thing. I should be sad, and I want to get the most authentic experience possible. I have a feeling lots of this trip is going to make me sad. 

But before the parents think everything about this trip is depressing (hi mom), we've also been having a lot of fun. The Olympic stadium was really cool! I'm sure lots of others have blogged about that. (Sylvie S)

Bussing it
As everyday on this trip, today was extremely busy. After a long, early morning bus ride, we arrived at Bernburg euthanasia center. This is where about 14,000 people who the Nazis considered "disabled" were murdered. After our tour guide (who insisted her English wasn't good even though it was better than I could ever dream to be in a foreign language) explained to us some facts with a power point, we followed the path followed by those killed there, who would all die the day they got there. We stopped in the gas chamber, where we were reminded 14,000 people were murdered where we stood. All of it was still original, from the tiles to the shower head. Safe to say I felt sick to my stomach. I breathed a lot easier after we left that room. It was the first stop on this trip that really hit me with its horrificness. Part of the shock was probably the fact that I would've expected this from a concentration camp, and for the first horror at the camp to not be from one was just so unexpected.

And of course, later in the day we experienced a concentration camp as well. The weather eerily followed what we were doing for the rest of the day. At Buchenwald, it was cloudy and drizzly with patches of sun, then began to downpour. It was chilly and in general unpleasant, but only a reminder of how this was nothing compared to what the in mates of the camp suffered, especially in the dead of winter with their cotton uniforms. 

As we went into downtown Weimer, however, the sun broke through and shone over this adorable quaint town. Just as you imagine classic Germany: that is Weimer. We took a stroll through the town to wait for our dinner reservations, snapping touristy pictures. Our dinner was absolutely delicious, and included not only ice cream but the big reveal of the "#flynning" tshirts we were all wearing with a picture of the one and only Mr. Flynn on them. (I think he loved them). 

Now we're on our way back to the hotel, enjoying a showing of "Shrek" and some beautiful scenery of the Roman countryside. (-Emily C.)

Germany is Beautiful

I lean my head against the window of the bus and try to regain a steady breathing pattern after leaving the hospital where we saw the gas chambers and crematoria for the disabled. I haven't traveled that much, and the majority of my travels have been in the United States. While the West is beautiful, there is just something about driving through the German countryside that takes my breath away. This may be the most beautiful place I've ever been (maybe that will change with Poland and Prague, I don't know). The luscious green fields and miles of bright yellow flowers broken up by quaint towns with golden church spires poking out and clusters of windmills are incredible to take in. It's nice that on a trip this heavy filled with such sad and depressing sites we get to take a break and just stare out the window at the natural beauty that has remained in this place, regardless of the ugly human history.

(Nora C(am...)

Buchenwald

We visited Buchenwald this afternoon just a couple hours after being at the euthanasia center...our heaviest day so far for me. The guide at Buchenwald told us that because we were essentially on a mountain, the weather was usually harsh and changed quickly. This proved to be very true. It poured rain, hailed, and then was sunny all in the couple hours that we were there. The cold and gray felt very fitting. We toured the memorial/museum and walked through the crematorium with big ovens where corpses were burned as well as the basement where over 1000 people were hung. We were ready to leave.

Now we are on the bus heading to dinner. People have cheered up and we are all laughing.

Our bus driver just narrowly avoided hitting a tiny car ( the cars are so small here!!) and we are all clapping. Well done bus driver.

We are tired and hungry and still drying off but somehow we all seem pretty content. I hope everyone at home is doing well. :).   (Nora C(oll)