MAUTHAUSEN

             My First Concentration Camp Visit 

Mauthausen is a WW II concentration camp; perhaps not as well known as some others, but still 159,000 people died there. Russia lost 32,000, Poland 30,000, and several other countries fewer numbers including 34 Americans.

This was my first of eventually four concentration camps that I’ve visited.

            Prisoners of War were transferred from Dachau, a German concentration camp, to build this camp. The site was chosen because of a nearby quarry. 186 steps led to and from the quarry. Every day 2000  people worked in the quarry. It’s hard to imagine how hard it must have been to carry heavy rocks from the quarry up all those steps all day long.

            A docent  told us, “Mauthausen was the first and largest concentration camp built in Austria. The name means Mother Camp.”

            This particular camp held both male and female prisoners as well as children. It also held social, political, criminal, and Jewish POWs. Each prisoner wore a colored triangle on his uniform. Red designated political prisoner, green social, black criminal, and all Jews had to wear a yellow Star of David below the triangle. Everyone also had a number tattooed on his arm.

            The Secret Service (SS) was in charge of this camp. The barracks had no heat to protect the prisoners from the cold winters.

            A guide continued, “All executions were carried out under the supervision of an SS doctor. Some were hanged, some injected, and many were gassed. The prisoners were told they were going to take a shower, and when the approximately 10 X 10 foot shower room was full of people the gas, instead of water,  was turned on in the overhead pipes.”

            It was a sobering experience to stand in that gas chamber. It gave me goose bumps and brought tears to many of our eyes.

            Next to the gas chamber was a room where gold fillings were extracted from teeth and skin was removed to be used in making lampshades. That very thought makes me shutter even today.

All the countries that lost people in this camp have erected a memorial in their honor. The memorials are all different, each powerful.

            There is a museum  inside one of the barracks where many pen and ink sketches  tell of the horrors which took place here. It took all of my willpower to look at them.

            Many visitors were present that day, many of them young people. Everyone was very quiet and subdued. The stillness was dramatic. It is good that the young, who were not living at that time, learn and not allow history to repeat itself.

The view of the countryside from the camp revealed the area to be a hilly, quiet, serene farming area.       The next day as we biked through the village, the beautiful countryside was overshadowed by the images of the previous day. Those images are etched in my memory forever.