When:

The Society meet every week in Mrs Scot's room 

Recent talk:

Account of the trip to Auschwitz By Jamie Halpin & Philip Dowson Looking at old pictures of Auschwitz-Birkenau it is easy to imagine the concentration camp being as colourless as its countless counterparts on film. Approaching Auschwitz, seeing it under a clear blue sky, trees flourishing in the grounds, full of the sounds of any tourist attraction was not what we expected. The rest, however, conformed to our image of it- two dozen identical prison blocks, neatly arranged into rows, enclosed in a ring of electrified fence and barbed wire. Looking around the first sub-camp (Auschwitz I) we saw an increasingly disturbing collection of artefacts; shoes, glasses, suitcases and even human hair were displayed, the remnants of things stolen from the victims of the Nazi’s persecution, to be repurposed for use by ordinary people back in Germany- an unsettling prospect. 

As we continued around Auschwitz I, we eventually came to Block 11- the so-called “prison within a prison”- where inmates were confined, tortured and shot on a daily basis. It was also where the first gassings took place, the prisoners serving as the guinea pigs for the gas canisters. Our last stop at Auschwitz I was the original gas chamber and crematorium- the only surviving example of the 5 that existed at Auschwitz, and far smaller than the later designs. Walking into the darkness the only sources of light were a few candles, reverently placed around the cramped, cold chamber. These added to the sombre, mournful tone that would hang over our heads for the rest of the day. From there we made our way to the second sub-camp, the one that is most easily identified with Auschwitz- Birkenau. Unlike its sibling camp across the town, Birkenau had not withstood the test of time, and all that remains- barring a few reconstructions and carefully preserved buildings, including the iconic watchtower- are ruins, still trapped behind the fatal fences weaved across the site. The first thing to draw our attention was the sheer size of the place. 

The remnants of at least a hundred barracks lay across the length and breadth of the enormous site, the scale becoming even more apparent from the top of the watchtower. For hours we walked across the camp; from the children’s blocks, to the toilet blocks, to the rail platforms where thousands at a time were unloaded from cattle cars, separated from their loved ones and possessions and, in most cases, sent straight to certain death at the larger, more “efficient” gas chambers- now nothing more than rubble by the actions of the Nazis themselves. What followed on the tour, however, was far more striking than the size, or the methods, or the conditions present. At the building where the arrivals’ possessions were filtered and organised by Nazi bureaucrats, there are now exhibited hundreds of photographs; family portraits, photos of individuals, or even just pictures of people enjoying happier times covered the walls. It was here that you see that every one of the people in those pictures, living their lives just as we do now, ended up in Birkenau, suffering the worst fate imaginable for no reason other than faith, or colour, or even disability. It was this above all else that stuck with us. 

After visiting the memorial that now stands at the heart of the site we departed. Our final image as we left for home was of Birkenau at twilight, deathly silent and cold, mist obscuring the other end of the camp, and this is the image that most of us would probably conjure at the mention of the name of Auschwitz.