It’s been an emotional and personal experience, as my husband’s grandfather stayed at Sachsenhausen for about five years as a political prisoner.
He bravely and successfully escaped just a few weeks before the Red Army stormed in to liberate the camp. He started a long journey back home, as the war was coming to an end.
The grandfather spoke about his imprisonment only many years later, after drinking a glass of wine too many, without really going into details of what happened to him or what he saw.
His days at the camp remain shrouded in mystery. We are left to make assumptions, deductions, even walk the same paths he walked with many other people. We can observe, from a distance, and we’ll never forget the horrors that took place here.
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