United States Holocaust Memory Museum, Washington, DC
I found this very curiously interesting article entitled,
Beyond Belief: Berliners and the Holocaust which you may read in its entirety
HERE. The article begs to answer questions such as, "what did the residents of Berlin know about the Jewish deportation, when did they know it and were they aware of the possible fate of the Jewish residents of Berlin?"
What seems to boggle my mind about the entire shroud of evil Nazi regime, is the denial in the minds of those who witnessed the mass migrations and heard the rumors of their fate, not only of Jews but of Christians. There are those who today who refuse to believe the Holocaust occurred, one such was a dear friend of mind, whose father was a "German soldier." One day we somehow got on the topic of World War II, and she related the story of her father; she said while he was not a Nazi, he was a soldier, and all that the world had reported to have occurred, never happened. "It just never happened! The Holocaust never happened!" she adamantly told me in her thick German accent.
I could have intelligently argued and recited evidence which discounted her claim, but I saw it was fruitless...I was after all, speaking to the daughter of German foot soldier, at the least.
I CANNOT FORGET
THE ACTION IN THE GHETTO OF ROHATYN, MARCH 1942.
by Alexander Kimel- Holocaust Survivor
Do I want to remember?
The peaceful ghetto, before the raid:
Children shaking like leaves in the wind.
Mothers searching for a piece of bread.
Shadows, on swollen legs, moving with fear.
No, I don't want to remember, but how can I forget?
Do I want to remember, the creation of hell?
The shouts of the Raiders, enjoying the hunt.
Cries of the wounded, begging for life.
Faces of mothers carved with pain.
Hiding Children, dripping with fear.
No, I don't want to remember, but how can I forget?
Do I want to remember, my fearful return?
Families vanished in the midst of the day.
The mass grave steaming with vapor of blood.
Mothers searching for children in vain.
The pain of the ghetto, cuts like a knife.
No, I don't want to remember, but how can I forget?
Do I want to remember, the wailing of the night?
The doors kicked ajar, ripped feathers floating the air.
The night scented with snow-melting blood.
While the compassionate moon, is showing the way.
For the faceless shadows, searching for kin.
No, I don't want to remember, but I cannot forget.
Do I want to remember this world upside down?
Where the departed are blessed with an instant death.
While the living condemned to a short wretched life,
And a long tortuous journey into unnamed place,
Converting Living Souls, into ashes and gas.
No. I Have to Remember and Never Let You Forget.
Source: http://www.kimel.net/poetry.html
Please read the article, and always feel free to post your comments, I look forward to reading them!
Historically Yours.
Lisa
