“My Grandfather worked there,” I pointed to the watchtower “Waffen SS.” I prayed she would forgive me. “Three Million Jews walked through this gateway to die” lied the guide
“My Grandfather was here,” I muttered to no one in particular, I remembered when he told me of it, a lovely gentle man with his collection of Cuckoo clocks. At the Auschwitz complex 405,000 prisoners were recorded as slaves between 1940 and 1945.Of these about 340,000 perished through executions, beatings, starvation, and sickness.”
We had the chance to ask questions, “Why did they kill the Jews.?” someone asked but was fobbed off. My Grandfather had told me about it, how he disobeyed orders to shoot inmates as the climbed onto and became stuck in the barbed wire, screaming and shouting as the barbs ripped them open as they slid slowly and agonisingly down, he would shoot to the head, bang, always one shot. He could never own a dog after that, it scarred his gentle soul. I was pleased, I liked my own room, I knew she planned it as punishment and that made it all the sweeter.
