RECOLLECTIONS OF DACHAU In the following account, I will attempt to reconstruct my visit to Dachau Concentration camp that occurred over 50 years ago. The horrible events I encountered will be etched in my mind forever. At my age, I have the luxury of being able to forget the chronological events of the visit, but I will relate the more significant scenes that stand out in my mind. The war was finally grinding to a halt, the German Army was in full retreat, and my outfit was bivouacked in a small village, south of Münich enjoying a few days of much needed rest. Our medic drove up to the house that we had commandeered and very excitedly told us that our Battalion Doctor had just returned and related an astonishing story of his visit to a nearby huge camp called Dachau. The U. S. Army in their drive northward had liberated a camp that had imprisoned hundreds of unfortunate people who were caught in the web of the German policy to "cleanse" Europe of what they termed the undesirables. By far, the majority of the prisoners were Jewish and the doctor was overwhelmed and horrified at the indescribable conditions that he had encountered. I was aware of rumors relating to the persecution of the Jewish people and since we were both of Jewish faith, we felt a need to visit this prison camp. I joined him in the jeep and we drove northward to where he was told the camp was located. We entered the camp now fully occupied by U.S. Army personnel and we witnessed unimaginable sights of horror. Many of the survivors were huddled together in groups, gaunt and emaciated, wearing prison garb mainly in tatters that hung loosely on their feeble bodies. They seemed traumatized and it was my impression the fact that they had been finally liberated had not fully sunk in. Beside the road leading to the barracks, there was a pile of dead bodies resembling a haystack with arms and legs sticking out at odd angles, A dead German soldier was sprawled partially across the road and we watched as two American soldiers grasped the body and attempted to place the body on top of the stack of dead prisoners. Two survivors staggered forth and one in broken English had a discussion with the Americans. The soldiers then again grasped the dead body and unceremoniously dumped it on the other side of the road. I asked one of the soldiers what had occurred and he stated that they felt the pile of dead bodies would be contaminated by the presence of the dead German. We saw flat cars on a railroad siding containing dead bodies, and at a later date, I found that the Germans, in an attempt to hide the atrocity, planned to move the bodies out of the camp but could not complete the project due to the rapid advance of the American troops. We walked into one of the many barracks; the stench was unbearable. We saw three tiers of wooden slats that evidently served as beds and a survivor was sitting at the edge of a one. I attempted to talk to him in my broken Yiddish and his answer was unintelligible. However he grasped my hand, placed it up to his lips, and his eyes welled with tears. Of course, by this time, the German guards, being aware of the forthcoming advance of the American troops, had departed post haste and many of the guard dogs had been shot, by whom, I do not know. One of the survivors, I assumed he was a late comer because of his healthy appearance, approached us and offered to serve as a guide. He took us into a huge room with cemented walls and shower heads in the ceiling. He spoke in a faltering English, interspersed with Yiddish, and sign language. We were told that the prisoners were taken into this room for showers and delousing. Our next stop was the Crematorium, a rack of domed ovens, side by side, and we were told that this was the method of disposing of the dead bodies of the inmates who had died in camp. At this moment, a survivor walked up, berated him and spat in his face, whereupon our self-styled guide unceremoniously took off. Later, I was told, that in all probability, he was a "Kapo" (I believe that was the term used)--that is, a prisoner selected by the Germans, fed properly, treated decently, and his task was to keep the prisoners in line and report any infraction of the rules to the higher ups. At that point in time, I did not fully realize the magnitude of the horror that was unfolding before my eyes. It was only at a later date when I returned home and found out the true story of the grisly "shower room." In reality it was a gas chamber and the true purpose of the Crematorium was to burn to ashes thousands of innocent people by order of an evil and malevolent monster. We rode back deep in thought, not fully comprehending the intensity of the horror that we had witnessed. I was so grateful to my parents who had emigrated from Poland many years ago, for I and the rest of my family could have been prisoners in that camp One final note of interest: a few days later some of the healthier prisoners were allowed to leave the camp and settle in the village where we were encamped. They were mostly of the Jewish faith so we had instant rapport. I was shown a bar of blue soap by one of the former inmates and inscribed on the side were two letters- "JS." His interpretation- "JUDEN SCHMALTZ" (The soap was made from Jewish fat.) return to top	The Valley of Lost Children There is no wind today...