Reality of War

As I sit listening to the many facts about the Nazis, I could only think about the various bullet holes that distinctly marked the building behind me. Thoughts about bombs dropping, guns firing, and dark clouds of smoke raced through my head. My mind filled with vivid scenes from my brother’s favorite movie Saving Private Ryan of soldiers sneaking along the walls, hiding in holes, peaking out broken windows, aimlessly shooting at their enemies. It was all Hollywood right? Maybe not.

It occurred to me that I could be standing in the middle of a battle zone, which made pain, death, and war become very real. It was hard for me to grasp my mind around the idea that although WWII happened decades ago, the ramifications of this war still linger and I can physically touch it on the bricks of a building.

“You cannot just think that these people were stupid.” Toby was talking about the Nazi officials. I listened as I sat on the stones that marked the exact location of the Nazi headquarters. This place gave birth to horrible plans of exterminating millions of people. It is difficult to understand the psychology behind a mob mentality. At that moment, I found myself wondering what I would have done. Would I also be swept up by the Nazi propaganda? Would I diligently plan an efficient way to kill a mass group of people? I would never know. I stand where those men and women of the Nazi party once stood, but I am not surrounded by the same trees, grass, buildings, dirt, fences, or roads as they did. I can only see the detrimental outcomes that they helped create.

I walked further along the path with displays of black and white photographs and writing. This was the Topography of Terror. The title strikes me as fitting to the topic of Nazi Germany, but the atmosphere of this museum was rather unbefitting. The displays were orderly placed in their positions, and I felt peaceful with the warm breeze, shady trees, and quietness surrounding me.

My calm feeling was disrupted by a photograph of a young woman. She had short hair with slight curls at the ends. She had light smooth skin and clear light eyes. I was curious because I never really thought about women’s roles in wars. When I saw this woman, I wonder whether she was a Nazi. Did she participate in the actual battles or the planning? Perhaps she is a victim. Is she German, Russian, or American? So I read her story. She was a French freelance writer living in Germany. She worked for the Nazi party until they discovered that she was illegally collecting pictures of Nazi crimes and helped her husband in search for new contracts in the resistance. I would have never guessed all of these facts from simply looking at her face. However, her picture indeed caught my eye and I was able to learn more about her hardships and role during WWII.