This essay won the school's annual Holocaust Memorial Day Essay Competition.
THEO ADAM
‘One day’. A single day. During those twenty-four hours, so much can happen - both in a literal and a mental sense. Although the practice of reflection upon history often fixates on an extensive period of time, allowing only a glimpse at individual dates and events, it is certainly poignant to zoom in to the finer details and consider the emotions experienced within such a brief piece of the bigger picture. A day where shocking, new laws are introduced that strip you of your German citizenship: your rich heritage. A day where you are required to adopt a new middle name to identify yourself solely as a member of a religion. A day like all others in your recent memory, detained in the largest camp complex of the Nazi Germany regime. This was the reality for so many - the many that fall short of being remembered for anything other than a statistic that is stated on ‘one day’ each year.
On the 15th of September 1935, the seventh yearly Nuremberg Rally event was drawing closer to its conclusion. This had been a stretch of so-called “freedom” as it led to compulsory military service being reintroduced, granting Germany, in its words, a sort of “liberation” from the Treaty of Versailles. However, on this day, a major announcement was made. The ‘Nuremberg Laws’ were introduced, consisting of ‘The Reich Citizenship Law’ and ‘The Law for the Protection of German Blood and German Honour’. These treated Jewish people as a separate race, left with no political rights and banned from future marriages between themselves and people “of German or related blood”. This moment is commonly thought of as when the Nazi persecution of the Jews was made official, following on from various, minor legal attacks in the preceding years. This day was undoubtedly one to strike fear into the hearts of masses, elevating the risk factor of simply existing in one's current state to now bearing the weight of genuine jeopardy.
On this very date in 1914, the first trenches were dug on the Western Front (following the First Battle of the Marne towards the start of World War I). Undoubtedly, it was equally as frightening a day for the allied soldiers who were fighting, acknowledging the need for a system of higher protection to supply some extra safety in this very real conflict. Both these events show how impactful an isolated revelation can prove for individuals’ emotions and feelings towards the future ahead, especially seeing as, in both cases, what was to follow was not going to improve for some time.
On the 17th of August 1938, another piece of antisemitic legislation was passed in Germany and Austria. This was labelled the ‘Law on the Alteration of Family and Personal Names,’ and assumed the form of forcing German Jews to take up the additional name ‘Israel’ for men and ‘Sara’ for women. This would permanently separate these people from the rest of the German population, singling them out for their faith. Additionally, they would be obligated to carry identity cards to indicate the cardholder as Jewish. Many primary sources providing proof of this having happened still exist, like that of Erna ‘Sara’ Schlesinger (whose passport, held in the US Holocaust Memorial Museum collection, clearly exhibits the additional name), or Gertrude ‘Sara’ Salinger (whose story is found in the Marianne Salinger Collection). So many were affected by this: an action that made explicit the unwanted status of Jewish people in the country by those in power.
Perhaps most terrifying is the horrific yet monotonous life endured by those who were sent to places like the Auschwitz concentration camp (in Oświęcim, Poland). Here, 'one day' usually took the same structure as the last. Early morning gong, lining up, performing various kinds of labour, noon meal, more labour, lining up, another gong, sleep. This was a never-ending cycle of suffering, with no sign of conditions changing any time soon, all while many were left pondering the unanswered question of what became of those who were chosen to visit the mysterious ‘showers’.
First-hand accounts of what entailed within the site have since been disclosed publicly and make for a disturbing read. One of these comes from Sheindi Miller, who began to keep a diary from March 1944 and arrived at Auschwitz on the 14th June that year as a 14-year-old child. She recalled prisoners being told by a soldier that “we’re burning your parents now” and being made to undress in front of soldiers who “ran around the room laughing” whilst they “stood around naked and deeply ashamed”. These appalling memories come from merely one entry from one person’s diary; one can only dread to think about the countless alternative yet similar stories that thousands of others had to share. Furthermore, it is also appropriate to recognise the great fear that a German would discover and read a journal, leading to immediate punishment of the author. The substantially poor conditions of life, together with this worry, mark each day confined at such a camp and describe unquestionably the horrific challenges prisoners had to combat.
Having dwelt upon these specific points in history, we find that it is evident that taking a moment and contemplating the true nature of events typically glossed over by many is an effective exercise. It exposes horrors that the general population likely has not focused on before in a more transparent manner. Just ‘one day’ in the past is so much more to the human who personally lived through it; disregarding this diminishes the struggles our predecessors underwent to allow us to be here, safe, today. As Holocaust survivor Elie Wiesel wrote in his memoir: “to forget would be not only dangerous but offensive; to forget the dead would be akin to killing them a second time”.