Shoah (n.): the Hebrew word for catastrophe; used since the 1940s to describe the Holocaust.

 

My wife studies the Holocaust. Documentaries, books, photographs, museums, anything and everything interests and intrigues her.

I grew up reading about WWII, but not much about the Nazi party or their political actions. Instead, I spent much more time on the military history and the war strategies (I was a huge nerd). That wasn’t all I read though, fortunately. As a teenager, I read and enjoyed the diary of Anne Frank, which was probably my first conscious realization of the Holocaust’s existence. Since then, I became more interested in learning about the events of the Shoah.

Why Discuss The Shoah?

Why? Good question. The events that occurred in that time period are deeply disturbing. At the same time, I am also inspired by the stories of courage and integrity that litter the records. The more I learn, the more interested I become.

Certainly when I read Elie Wiesel’s book Night, I learned, or perhaps came to consciously realize, some of the realities of what had occurred. Anne Frank’s diary is an innocent, youthful day-to-day observation of life in a Nazi-occupied country. Night is an exposition of terror. If you have not read Wiesel’s book, you absolutely need to. After you read Night, I recommend the movie Life is Beautiful to give you a whimsical experience with a deep and somber backdrop.

My wife and I recently went to France and had the opportunity to visit three sites that are not on the typical European vacation itinerary. I didn’t really know they existed until my wife clued me in (she knows this kind of thing). But all three are heart wrenching and eye opening.

One place was the former location of the Vélodrome d’Hiver (or Vel d’Hiv, pronounced vell deev), a site of tragedy for French Jews during WWII. The second site was a museum called The Shoah Memorial (Mémorial de la Shoah) in Paris, which houses the Crypt (more on that to come). And the third was a museum in Orléans called the Memorial Museum of the Children of the Vel d’Hiv (Musée Mémorial des Enfants du Vel d’Hiv). All three of these centered around a singular event.

Vélodrome d’Hiver

I can’t recap the entirety of the Shoah here, besides, Wikipedia already does that (see you back here in five days if you click that link). Instead, let me give you just my version of the Vel d’Hiv.

Germany defeated France in 1940. The invasion took about six weeks and Germany agreed to leave half of France unoccupied if the French government cooperated with the Nazis. This collaborative government was located in the town of Vichy.

As part of the collaboration, the Vichy government participated in the collection and deportation of French Jews. Over the course of the war, the French authorities sent about 75,000 of their own people to concentration camps in Poland and Germany. Of these, 2,500 survived.

In July 1942, 13,152 French Jews were arrested by French police. They sent about 8,000 to the Vélodrome d’Hiver in Paris, a bike race arena. The Vel d’Hiv had been used for French fascist rallies in the past, and the Germans appropriated it for the purpose of holding Jewish prisoners during these July roundups.

Of the people sent to the Vel d’Hiv, just over 1,000 were men, about 3,000 were women, and the remaining 4,000 were children. They deported the men first, almost all of which were sent to work camps. Then they removed the women, forcibly separating them from their children when necessary. They sent the women to Drancy, a deportation camp, to be shipped to Poland.

They left the children alone in the Vélodrome for three days, with no food or sanitary facilities, and only a single faucet with water. After three days, the Vel d’Hiv had grown completely silent. The French police collected the children, herded them into cattle cars and sent them to Auschwitz. The Nazis took them to the gas chambers immediately upon arrival.

Memorials

The Vélodrome d’Hiver has since been demolished, but two memorials remain.

The inscription at the former site of the Vel d’Hiv reads (translated by me):

The 16 and 17 July, 1942

13,152 Jews were arrested in Paris and its suburbs, deported and assassinated at Auschwitz. In the Vélodrome d’Hiver, which stood here, 4115 children, 2916 women, 1129 men were kept in inhumane conditions by the police of the  Vichy government under orders from the occupying Nazis. That those who attempted to come to their aid be thanked.

Those who pass, remember!

And then on the statue near the former Vel d’Hiv site, in view of the Eiffel Tower:

The French Republic, in homage to the victims of racist and antisemitic persecution, and of crimes against humanity committed under the authority of the de facto government of the French state, 1940-1944

Never forget

I prefer the original wording in French, but you get a sense of their weight even translated.

Even more moving to me however was the Wall of Names at the Shoah Memorial. As you enter the memorial courtyard, you are faced with row upon row of stone walls with the inscriptions of the names of every known French victim of the Shoah.

There was no need for a quote or caption to emphasize the significance of this place. The names, the sheer number of names, speak for themselves.

After the courtyard, we entered the memorial building. While most of the building is used for records, temporary exhibits, and a bookstore, the real reason for its existence is in the basement. That is where the Crypt is located.

The Crypt

Entering the Crypt was the moment I will never forget.

“Look at me no one has ever had pain like mine. Young men and women killed by enemy swords.”

A line of text in Hebrew decorates the far wall as you enter. The translation I cited is given on a placard at the entrance. The words are excerpts from Lamentations 1:12, and 2:21. However, in some ways I prefer more of verse 12 in Lamentations 1 (KJV):

“Is it nothing to you, all ye that pass by? behold, and see if there be any sorrow like unto my sorrow…”

In a place like this, from the moment you enter in, you know something you never knew before. Not because you have read or seen a new thing, but because you feel something that can never be replicated elsewhere, something which is unforgettable.

Tolstoy wrote in Anna Karenina:

“What I know, I know not by reason, but it has been given to me, revealed to me, and I know it with my heart.”

When I entered the Crypt I felt the presence of those whose names are engraved in stone on the Wall of Names. The Crypt is mostly empty, with only the marble Star of David, the eternal flame, and flowers in the center, but the true memorial is beneath the floor. The Crypt protects the ashes of murdered Jews, recovered from Auschwitz-Birkenau, Sobibor, Treblinka and other death camps. These ashes are buried in soil brought from Israel.

There are places where heaven and earth meet, and for me, this is one of them.

Memory and Promise

The French people had a hard time (nationally) accepting their role in the Shoah. Although it took a long time, what I saw and read when I was in their country tells me that they are committed to remembering what happened.

Some people (I think) wonder what the big deal is. Not that so many people died, I think everyone recognizes the big deal there, but more of why we continue to discuss the Shoah. Can’t we just let it go?

Well, I guess we could. But should we?

Absolutely not. We are so far distanced from those events of the 30s and 40s, that the history of it feels like story, not fact. A word like “genocide” does not really carry the meaning that it should. It feels unreal. Of course there are even those who claim the entire history of the Shoah is a fabrication. Perhaps equally astonishing is that others write or say (I have seen and heard it) that such a thing could never happen again.

I disagree.

Unless we remember and continue to honor those who were murdered, and unless we remain conscious of what happened, we cannot guarantee anything. The fact that it did happen means that it could happen again. It is hard to fathom that people are capable of such actions, and yet they were. And there are those still today who do things on a much smaller scale. That should remind us we are all human, with all the meaning that goes with that statement.

But for me, the promise of retaining the memory of the Shoah is that we have the real chance of preventing anything like that from ever happening again.

Invitation

The inscription on the memorial sculpture at the site of the Vel d’Hiv says n’oublions jamais.

Never forget.

Translating is difficult. The phrase n’oublions jamais in French means more than just the simple directive of “never forget” that the English translation offers. In French, it is also a promise that we will not forget. And it is also a statement assuring everyone that we do not ever forget.

I invite you to understand these words in all three of these contexts. We must remember.