Terezin--the small fortress, named in the honor of Maria Theresa. It was a transit camp, not an extermination camp. While thousands died in this camp, over 150,000 were held at Terezin and/or shipped to other camps from this particular hot spot. I could continue to dazzle you with factual information, but where is the fun in that? Terezin is the name of both the camp and the city in which it lies. However, it is the camp that even puts it on the map. Without it, the city would soon dry up. It took us a little over four hours to reach the destination, but it was worth it in order to witness just one of the thousands of camps located throughout Europe. The bus parked in the lot, and it appeared like any other place. A gravel lot with shops and food stands lining the sides. However, cross the road, and you would enter into a whole other world. The cemetery was located to the right, down some stairs. All of the tomb stones were lined up, nice and straight. I bet it made mowing much easier that way. As I strolled along, I noticed that it wasn't, purely, a Jewish cemetery. For one, some of the names were, clearly, not Jewish, and second, there was a large cross overlooking the first half of the cemetery. The second half was presided over by a huge star of David. Of course, I had to look for my name, my first name, and I found it. In Czech, my name is not Anthony, but Antonin. I found a couple Antonins, and quite a few Frantiseks. The name means nothing to me, but it was just a name I kept seeing over and over again. As I continued examining the graves, all I could think of was "blood soaked soil." How many Jews and other condemned walked where I was walking? How many were killed where I stood? How many passed along the same path, knowing their life was about to come to an abrupt end? It was, almost, like the depressed nature of the area inhabited my body. I could feel the weight, the dread, the sadness, the hopelessness, the fear, and the hatred. At the same time, I noticed the greenery bordering the sidewalk. How could something so beautiful grow where such a terrible crime had been committed? Was it nature's way of trying to erase the past? Was it nature's way of compensating for the loss of the past? After the cemetery, we walked to the entrance of the camp. As I walked through the entrance, I envisioned multitudes of people doing the same. It was a long passage and, at the end, there was sign that read, "Arbeit Macht Frei," or Work means Freedom. There were three rooms in the building along this corridor. The first was for admissions. The prisoners would be assigned a number as their identity for the next few months or years. The second room was where many of the officers worked and hung out. The third room was where the prisoners were given their garbs, thin and flimsy as they were. After we were given the opportunity to scope the rooms, receiving a glimpse at what the Nazis had seen and where they worked, we passed under the sign and stepped into the meat of the camp. There was a large courtyard surrounded by buildings on every side. Block A was the sign that identified the first building, and there was also a building where the mail was received, sent, and distributed. Behind us was the office of the Commandant of the camp, called Hofverwaltung. At that point, my mind flashed back to the many episodes of "Hogan's Heroes" that I used to watch with my father. As I looked at that building, I thought of Commandant Klink and his monacle. I could just see an oaf like Sergent Schultz rounding the corner with his prisoners in tow. I had to remind myself that life in this camp was much, much worse than the camp of Stalag 13 for Hogan. We were shown a standard cell. There was one sink and one toilet in the room. It was not much bigger than the size of my kitchen back home, and the wall was lined with bunk beds. Basically, that small room had to accommodate 40 people, in the beginning, and, as the war progressed, it was made to accommodate 100 people in that small room. Outside of that room and to the right was a much small room. There was nothing in it--no bed, no sink, and no toilet. It was an isolation room, and there would have been a pale for a toilet. There was one window that would, usually, be closed, and there was a small hole in the wall for air and a bit of light. This room was used for the Jews, and there would be about 60 people crammed into such a space. Thankfully, we were taken away from there; I couldn't stand to be exposed to that any longer. Feeling the horrific, vulgar afflictions that haunted my body and soul was more than I could bear. However, my relief was short lived as we arrived at another set of cells. This time, these cells were used for interrogations and isolation. The cell was small, again, and could be made completely dark with the window shut and no hole in the wall. The point was to break the prisoners, driving them mad, so that information could be extracted more efficiently. It was a "prison within a prison." What made this complex so noteworthy was that, in cell #1, the infamous Gavrillo Princip was held for a few years. You may recall that Gavrillo Princip was the man who assassinated Franz Ferdinand and escalated the start of the first World War. I learned, earlier, that the assassination wasn't, technically, the trigger that started the war, but it was a contributing factor and a story for another time. Anyway, that room was the only one illuminated, and it was disappointing that that monster only lasted a few years. He deserved to be locked away for eternity for what he did. We left that building and walked through the courtyard to the next important building, the showers. This was where the delousing took place. Lice was a prominent problem in the camps, especially considering lice transmitted typhus as well. The Nazis were fearful because of this, so the prisoners were disinfected in this building. However, the clothing was only disinfected once every week, and later every two weeks. There were only 24 showers, and there could be up to 200 people in there at a time. Basically, one word can sum up this entire camp--overpopulation! We moved on to a propaganda room, the barber shop. This room was filled with sinks and mirrors along the walls. What was interesting about this room was that it was never used, or, if it was, it was used only once. The Nazis established this room in an attempt to make the Red Cross, who were conducting an assessment of the camp, believe that Terezin was a "country club" for the prisoners. They wanted the Red Cross to believe that this was the best camp around, and that is was a model. Unfortunately, the Red Cross bought the lie, and, as soon as they departed, the barber shop was closed. Other acts were taken to dupe the Red Cross, such as establish sports activities, create fake money for the prisoners to use, and allow them special privileges that they, ordinarily, couldn't access. We crossed a bridge that ran over the moat, and we were told a story. There was  a small opening, and, as it turned out, three prisoners made an escape at that exact spot. It was good timing, more than anything. It was a rainy day, and they scaled the wall, jumped through the opening, landed in the water, and they fled. Due to the rain, the dogs could not pick up a scent, and they got away and hid for the remainder of the war. Other escape attempts were not so lucky/successful. Back we went, back under the sign, and, once again, I was caught up in the feeling that I was walking in the exact same footsteps as thousands of others had done before my time. Was I living their legacy? Was I honoring them by remembering their struggles? I could only hope that their sacrifices were not in vain. As we went along a different path, we came across the building that contained 15 flats. These flats were occupied by the Nazi officers and their families. It made me sick to think that they were living a life of luxury when, a few yard away, an unfortunate soul was suffering/suffocating/dying. We were shown more standard and isolation cells, and that was the conclusion of our trip. We, then, proceeded to the cinema to watch a short film. Yes, that is right, there was a cinema and a casino for the officers of the camp. Sickening, I know. Anyway, the film was, actually, quite interesting. It showed footage of prisoners playing soccer, no doubt during the Red Cross inspection. It, also, gave statistics of the transport numbers, how many people were shipped and how many survived. The numbers were not encouraging. It was rather short, and, upon its conclusion, we left for another attraction site. Our next stop was the Ghetto museum, and it contained items from the Ghetto, such as knives, radios, prayer books, paintings, drawings, and written accounts. As with so many other places, there was room with names lining the walls. It was impressive and depressing at the same time. The drawings/paintings done by the people of the Ghetto/camp were breathtaking. They were not only good, but they were powerful in how they spoke without written words. The messages they conveyed and the sadness of the style were all too accurate. Arm bands were pretty popular as well, for the everyone in the Ghetto had to wear arm bands to identify who they were. Jews got their own, as did Gypsies, Soviet POWs, and others. Sheet music was on display as well, and it was encouraging to know that they hadn't given up hope. They clung on to their lives, and they didn't let the "bad guys" win. There was, even, an old radio receiver on display, and, again, I thought of "Hogan's Heroes" and how they had an underground system and their radio. From the Ghetto museum, we moved to a military museum, and, honestly, there wasn't much to it. Basically, the only noteworthy thing was the room that was made to look as it would have when the Jews were crammed in occupying it. Otherwise, there was just a bunch of rooms filled with more drawings, and music, etc. It was interesting, but after an entire day of seeing the same thing, one gets tired. As we returned to our bus, I asked our tour-guide what the inhabitants of Terezin did for a living. Obviously, there wasn't much in the line of business, and the camp was the only thing keeping the city alive. Most of them commute to Prague for work, and most of the inhabitants are of the older generation, making a home and settling. The younger people must have seen the writing on the wall and got out when they could. Honestly, I don't blame them. It took us another 4 hours to get back home, and I can't even express how exhausted I am. We spent more time on the road than we did exploring the camp. The camp was a good experience, but I believe Auschwitz will be even more stunning. As always, I captured some good pictures that I wish to share. I hope you will enjoy, and I apologize for the length of this post. It is just that a lot happened today, and I wanted to get it all down. Anyway, enjoy the rest of your day. "May The Odds Be Ever In Your Favor!"
                                                                                          -Anthony-

Gavrillo Princip's cell

Works of art found in Ghetto museum

The Bunks found in a standard Cell. Forced to hold up to 60-100 people.

Courtyard.