80 Years of Memory: A Personal Visit to Auschwitz 80 Years After the Liberation
- ibarancikova17
- Mar 11
- 4 min read
In 1939, the World endured one of human history's most catastrophic and transformative events. Little did they know that the global conflict would last six years, and the places that once caused innocent people so much devastation would be the same ones we visit, to commemorate them, today.
The invasion of Poland marked the beginning of World War II and the Holocaust, in which approximately six million Jews died. They make up the largest group of victims, but the total number of deaths is estimated to be around 11 million. However, the scale of loss doesn’t just come down to the number of lives physically lost, but also the unimaginable trauma on those who were involved.
Two days before my visit to Auschwitz-Birkenau was the 27th of January 2025. The date is a pivotal moment in the Holocaust, as this was the exact date the extermination camp was liberated by the Soviet Red Army, 80 years ago.
Approximately 50 survivors, along with various world leaders and dignitaries, gathered at the gates of Birkenau in Poland on the anniversary to honour those who lost their lives in the tragedy.
Marian Turski, 98, is a Polish historian, journalist, and Holocaust survivor who spoke at the memorial site on the 27th, alongside survivor Janina Iwanska, 94, and others.
“Today we are celebrating the liberation, this is when the camp stopped its operation. When it happened, there were few inmates. You could hear the shots of the approaching front line and yet, they (the Germans) decided to take any inmates they could out of the camp and try to move them elsewhere,” Janina Iwanska recalled in her speech.
Those inmates who had stayed in the camp were the sick, the young and the pregnant. When the camp was then liberated, only 5-10% of inmates were saved. The 100,000 others were forced on ‘death marches’ and taken to other camps.
Tova Friedman stood up at the podium on the anniversary. At 86, she is a Jewish-American therapist, social worker and author born in Poland. She too is a Holocaust survivor who was sent to Auschwitz.
“We are here to proclaim and to pledge that we will never, ever allow history to repeat itself.”
Tova was just six years old when she was liberated from the camp, but her memories are very vivid. She thinks back on her story to when she was five, watching her friends be taken away and driven to their deaths. When she and her family arrived at Auschwitz, she was beaten, tortured, and starved.
“I thought it was normal if you were a Jewish child that you had to die. I wasn’t even sure what Jewish was,” she says.
“We mourn not only the fallen soldiers and the hostages, but also the turbulence and mistrust in our society. We pray for strength, resilience and of course, hope.”
The courageous individuals who spoke out that day shared their stories, but this could be one of the last times they did so, as in ten years, they may no longer be here with us.
I visited Oswiecim, in Poland, where the Auschwitz-Birkenau death camp stands as a museum since 1947. It was only two days after the anniversary of the liberation of the camp, so the main entrance where the train tracks enter the camp remained covered, as that was where the speeches were held.
“Those who do not remember the past are condemned to repeat it.” This was the first quote I saw upon my arrival to the museum, and immediately, I knew the experience would be haunting. I followed my guide, Sarah, around – mostly silent, just trying to listen and absorb all the information, the sights, and the atmosphere that I could.
At least, of what remains of it.
The barracks, the tracks, and the debris, which is left from the crematoria, act as a reminder of the mass cruelty and the suffering that was caused. I felt overwhelmed with this sense of knowing, but not knowing what those people felt all those years ago. A feeling that none of us will ever truly understand.
It's true when they say that no birds fly over Auschwitz. The silence as you walk through rooms filled with shoes and human hair. When you see photos of the victims, when you read their names and their professions. When you realise that they too, once had families and dreams of their own.
A poignant parting message from the tour guide stuck with me from that day.
“We are but a tiny grain of sand in our galaxy, our universe, and whatever else lies beyond. Yet, even to this day, we still manage to dissect that tiny grain of sand and segregate ourselves from one another. When did superiority become so important to humanity?”
